Page 9 of Blaze & Ajax

His eyes narrowed, and he smiled crookedly. “I think youdocare. You care a lot,Kitten.Ithink all that you do is an act.”

For the first time since meeting Ajax, there was a fluttering in my stomach, but I wasn’t sure if it was from him, hitting my nerves again, or something else. Only Cueball saw fucking through me. Since when did Ajax notice shit?

I stared deep into his eyes, pulling his hair tighter, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. His lashes were so thick, his skin so pale and creamy smooth, and he had the plumpest lips I’d ever seen. When he wasn’t scowling at me, his face was almost boyish.

No! There was nothing good about Jaxon Kean.

I didn’t care about anyone. I didn’t need anyone.

“Let me give you a piece of life story advice,Precious. Everyone turns their backs on you. Everyone,” I said.

Ajax leaned his head closer to me, so close that I could feel his breath on my face. “No, Blaze. Just you. No one likes you,” he whispered.

We still hadn’t let go of each other, and my body was completely aware of him. Too aware.

Instead of giving in to self-preservation, I pushed his fucking buttons. He could shove his words up his fucking ass. My lips suddenly landed on his, intending to shock him into silence.

His eyes went wide, but instead of reacting angrily, he pulled me tighter. My head tilted as I deepened the kiss for some ungodly reason I couldn’t figure out, probably because I was drunk.

He was supposed to shove me off. Spit at my feet. Punch me in the face. Instead, his eyes fluttered closed, parted his lips, and shoved his tongue into my mouth.

My fucking betraying dick quickly got on board as Ajax groaned in my mouth, and he lifted me up. My legs wrapped around his hips, and he gasped a breath, but he quickly recovered, his hands gripping the back of my shirt, fingers digging into my muscles.

My fingers tangled even tighter in his hair when one of his hands tugged on my own hair. We clanged teeth, nipped lips, and fought with our tongues, tasting blood from one of us. We breathed hot air into each other’s mouths as if trying to sustain our lives.

When Ajax yanked my head back to nibble on my neck, and his other hand rested on my ass before his lips were back on me. As he caught a breath, he whispered my name. My drunken mind told me to stop. This was all wrong. He was supposed to hurt me and hate me more, not fucking kiss me back. And I wasn’t supposed to be fucking into it.

I suddenly gripped his throat tighter and shoved him off. Being drunk, I was surprised I landed on my feet instead of my ass when he dropped me.

“I knew you wanted me,” I said, desperate to get away from him, but still needing to poke the bear and maintain the upper hand.

He growled and shoved me away. “I don’t fucking want you. You… caught me off guard.”

I smirked and straightened my shirt, trying to ignore the swelling in my jeans. “Sure you don’t. That kiss says otherwise, asshole.”

When I tried to walk by him and leave, Ajax grabbed the back of my head by my hair and yanked me. My hand instantly went to his wrist, trying to pry him off as he turned me around and shoved me down onto my knees, which buckled under the strong pressure and on well-trained instinct from another life.

My heart skipped several beats as memories flashed through my hazy mind, making my dick even harder.

No!

But rationality fled me. I panted, unable to find words as I looked up at him, suddenly begging him with my mind to own me.

If he hadn’t been angry before, he was then. “You kissedme,” he hissed.

I wanted to be pleased with myself, but I swallowed back the regret and the sudden need for him because I couldn’t want him. Ididn’twant him. My brain kept telling me I was a liar, and that had been one of the best kisses I’d ever had because it’d been given to me so freely, even through Ajax’s hatred of me, or despite it.

Even worse, I didn’t fight him as I stared up at his pissed-off face.

“I want to fucking hurt you. I want…” Ajax hissed and suddenly shoved me onto my ass as he let go of my hair. “Get the fuck out.”

I scrambled to my feet, a confused fucking mess as I rushed back into the bar.

Not wanting to face Ajax again tonight, I left the place—and Cueball—behind and quickly texted Storm.

Me: Please tell me you have something soon.

Storm: Come by in two days.

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