Page 17 of Jax
“Neither have I,” I whispered.
“Because you saved your sweet pussy for me.” He winked. “And I can’t wait to take it again.”
He finally eased back and tucked himself away. Then he tugged me upright and pressed his palm to the small of my back like I’d collapse without it. My legs were unsteady as he settled my skirt back in place, my pulse still a wild drum in my chest.
“We’re leaving,” he ordered, voice low and unyielding.
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Minutes later, the two of us stepped out of the office and walked out of the building like nothing had happened. Then I wrapped my body around him on the back of his motorcycle—one more brand-new experience. One that left me desperate for him again by the time we reached his room at the Redline Kings MC clubhouse…where he took me for another sexy ride in his bed.
7
LARK
Iwoke up disoriented, not knowing where I was. The sheets beneath me were dark and the mattress far bigger than the lumpy one in my apartment.
Then memory flooded back—Jaxton’s mouth on mine, the rough claim of his hands, and the way he’d taken me like we were meant to be together. My body ached in places that still throbbed with memory. Heat rushed to my cheeks even though no one could see me.
I should’ve panicked. Bolted upright and planned my exit strategy. That was my reflex now—never let my guard down. Instead, I lay still and listened to the rhythm of my own breathing, surprised by how calm it sounded.
I felt safe here.
The thought slipped into my head before I could stop it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this, long before my life spiraled out of control and I found myself far from home.
In each place the marshals hid me, I always looked over my shoulder. Never slept through a single night since they put me in WITSEC. Until I drifted away with his arms around me.
But now that the passion had passed, I had to wonder why I felt so comfortable with Jaxton when I didn’t know much about him. Only that he’d seen too much of me already, kissed like he meant to brand me, and had a dangerous air that nobody could miss.
I didn’t know what made him laugh, or if he ever did. How he liked his coffee, black or sweet, what he dreamed about, or his first thought when he woke in the morning.
But I wanted to.
The realization made my chest tighten. Wanting anyone was reckless in my situation. Especially someone like Jaxton Bishop.
I shifted under the covers, drawing my knees up slightly and tucking the sheet higher across my chest, as though the extra layer could shield me from how deeply he’d already gotten under my skin.
The door creaked open, and I startled upright, clutching the sheet tighter to my chest. Relief hit when I saw Jaxton. Hatless now, blond hair mussed, gray eyes unreadable as ever.
He didn’t say a word as he crossed the room, a tray balanced in his hands. The smell of coffee hit me first, followed by the faint buttery scent of toast. He set it on the bedside table, his lips curving as his gaze raked over me.
“Good morning,” I murmured, my voice still rough with sleep.
He leaned down without hesitation, claiming my mouth like it was routine. There was nothing tentative about his kiss—just his mouth on mine, like he owned it. And after last night, maybe he did.
When he pulled back, I blinked up at him. “I didn’t exactly peg you as the breakfast-in-bed type.”
He shrugged. “Needed to eat. Figured you did too.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “That’s…practical.”
He sat down next to me and twisted around to grab the tray and set it across my lap. I tried not to stare at the smooth way he moved and the muscles in his biceps bunching.
Glancing down, I took in the coffee, toast, and a pile of scrambled eggs on mismatched plates, laughing again. “You must’ve read my mind.”
“Woke up hungry?” he asked, resting his back against the headboard and stretching his long legs out on the mattress.
I took a sip from the mug, then mumbled, “Wondering how you take your coffee.”
