Page 165 of Sinning for Santa

“And it was me that put you in that position in the first place,” I snap, too fucking pissed at myself as I start walking up the path again, noticing the locals and visitors flowing out from the chapel, now that it’s safe.

Fuck. The press will have a field day with this.

“Are you done?” Jaxcen snaps from behind me, and I still at the sass in her tone, slowly turning to face her. “Don’t arch your eyebrow at me.”

Fuck.

I fight the urge to grin, my gaze raking over the way her arms are crossed over her chest with one hip popped, as she stares at me, deadpanned.

“Am I done with what?” I ask, my voice low and menacing, because whatever is happening here has awakened something inside me, and I get the feeling that was her fucking intention.

“Are you done having a pity party?”

My brows shoot high before they dip, my nostrils flaring at her words.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me. I’m the one who nearly died, Devon. I should be the one whining about it, but do you see me doing that? No.” She twirls her hand in the air between us, gesturing to me. “Yet here you are…”

A low rumble emanates from my chest, which kicks up the corners of her lips in a teasing smirk, like she’s fucking happy to be pissing me off right now.

“You might want to check yourself, love,” I snap, about ready to wrap my hands around her throat and give it a good fucking squeeze.

“You might want to checkyourself, love.” She repeats my words back to me, her tone almost a mock, but more challenging than anything.

My fucking cock is hard, and given the way her eyes briefly drop to my crotch, she fucking knows it.

Still, she stands before me, no fear, just a challenge written across her expression, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Maybe I should fuck you right here. In the street. Maybe then you’ll fucking remember who you’re talking to.”

She rolls her eyes. “Maybe you should. And maybe I’ll like it. And maybe then, you’ll remember that you’re the one who brought this version of Jaxcen out in me.”

I snicker at that. “It’s always been there, Jaxcen. You just needed a nudge.”

“Which version do you like better? The demure version of me, still so innocent and inexperienced that you met in the church on a stormy night? Or this one?” She gestures down the length of her torso, my gaze following over the red dress she donned at my request. “Do you like this version of JaxcenSummers that pushes your buttons? Calls you out on your bullshit? That celebrates her sins to the devil?”

In three strides I’m on her, my hand fists her hair as I force her head back and claim her lips. Her tongue lashes at mine instantly, like she’s desperate to taste me, and then she sucks it deep into her mouth like it’s my fucking cock as she grinds her mound against my leg.

Fuck, I want her right here, right fucking now.

“Uh, excuse me.” A throat clearing behind me makes us both stiffen, and reluctantly, I release Jaxcen’s hair and turn to see Ronnie. “The ah… explosive has been removed and is currently being relocated to Timber Valley where Griffin will arrange for its dismantlement.”

I nod, knowing these orders would have come from my direct team. Finn, Miles, Dom and Lenny. That’s why I have them. They are good at what they do, and at times like this, don’t need me to spell everything out to them. They know our top priority is the town’s safety, something I’ve failed at here tonight.

I used my town as bait, knowing the text we sent from Melissa’s phone would lure Vincent here.

I used Melissa as bait, something she was happy to do to help get rid of another psychopath. And all because I wanted this over sooner rather than later, because my need to send Jaxcen back to her life is consuming me.

I can’t keep her, but the longer she’s here, the harder it is for me to accept that.

“Thanks, Ronnie. I’m going to retire to my suite. Call an 8am meeting to debrief and get a media strategy in place.”

Ronnie nods. “Will do.” He leans to the side to see around me to where Jaxcen is still standing. “Good night, Miss Summers. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Thank you, Ronnie,” she says sweetly, but there’s no shyness in her tone.

Four fucking days she’s been here. Four fucking days that feels like four fucking weeks.

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