Текст книги "Falling Away"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

And I watched him tilt his head back and gulp down mouthfuls of water.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “Why are you here? I thought you worked out at the gym.”

He brought the bottle down and stood there, and I started to wonder if he was going to answer the question or not.

“I assist the coach with lacrosse practice.”

Hmm. Well, that was cool. I hadn’t pegged him for the volunteering type, but I wasn’t sure why. He’d been in lacrosse in high school, and although he was cocky, he was also giving.

I’d noticed things like that in high school. He was generous. Generous with his time. Generous with his friends.

But shit. I let out a quiet sigh of frustration.

Jax was going to be around school a lot this summer. Damn it.

Walk. IPod. Escape. Remembering the quiet time I was looking forward to, I turned to leave, but then I remembered something.

I turned around and said, “I got a text from Liam, by the way.”

“He texted you?” he asked, his eyes laughing. “Doesn’t listen to directions very well, does he?”

“You told him not to contact me?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I can handle him on my own, Jax. And he wasn’t texting me before. Now he is, thanks to you, so just butt out.”

A flush of anger spread down my body like a coat of paint.

“I didn’t do it for you,” he said matter-of-factly as he wiped down his body with the white towel. “Liam’s had that coming for a long time now. He needed to be humbled.”

Oh, what the …

“You’ve got some ego!” I yelled. “I mean, yeah, all of a sudden you have money. Where you get it from is too scary to even think about,” I spouted off when I really should have just shut up. “And you seem to have the town’s police in the palm of your hand. You’re clearly running the Loop now. Congratulations, Jax.” I smiled a big-ass, fake grin. “You’re the most powerful man in Shelburne Falls, Illinois!”

I planted my hands on my hips, pretty damn pleased at how good I’d gotten at putting men in their place.

But then my smile dropped and my eyes rounded. Jax’s eyes—full of challenge and amusement—narrowed on me, and he tossed his towel down, heading right for me.

Shit. I knew I should’ve listened to my mother. I talked too much.

He nodded, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “There she is.”

I inched back to the wall as he advanced into my space. “What are you talking about?”

“The snarky girl I met at Madoc’s house years ago.”

Yeah, the one that was slightly drunk and hella confident? My head bobbed off the wall, signaling I was at a damn dead end, and a trickle of sweat skidded down my neck. I saw Jax’s eyes flash to it, and all of a sudden I was too dumb to even remember my own name.

God, he was big. My chest vibrated with the heat of him only an inch away. He hovered over me, engulfing and consuming the space around me, making me feel as if I stood in the shadow of a tree.

Staring straight ahead, I made a conscious effort to keep my face straight. But it was almost impossible, and it was pointless. Out of all the reasons I could come up with for hating Jax—he always challenged and pushed me, and he always did whatever the hell he wanted—I could never claim that he wasn’t smart. He knew I was affected. He knew my body liked him close.

“I love it when you get mouthy,” he whispered down on me. “It makes me want to shut you up.”

Son of a bitch. I clenched my thighs together, feeling about ready to scream at the moisture I felt there.

I needed to get out of here. “I have to go.” I pushed off the wall but hit his chest, closing me in again.

“How do you like your community service?” he said low, trapping me by planting his hands on the wall on each side of my head.

Huh?

His smell was raw heat. Summer. Sticky cotton candy on a Ferris wheel and cool water on hot skin.

“What?” He’d asked me a question. What the fuck did he just ask?

He leaned on his hands, dipping his head close to mine. “Community service, K.C. How do you like it?”

I could hear the laughter in his voice. Little shit.

“I don’t,” I mumbled. “Teaching a bunch of kids who slacked off during the school year, because they didn’t get the attitude adjustment they needed, isn’t my idea of a good time.”

His arms lowered a bit, and I could hear him inhaling through his nose, as if he was smelling me.

“Your idea of a good time got you here in the first place.” His voice was calm but firm. “And those kids don’t need an attitude adjustment. You do.”

I smirked. “Well, I’m getting one, thanks to the great state of Arizona.” Then I pinned him with hard eyes. “You don’t know me, Jax.” And I pushed him away and turned for the door.

But he hooked my arm, pulling me back.

“You’re right,” he said quickly. “I don’t know you. So why don’t you enlighten me? What does K.C. stand for? What did you do at college that got you arrested?”

When I just stood there, not answering his stupid questions, he backed me into the wall again. “Let’s try something easier, shall we? Your favorite color. What is it?”

“Are you serious?”

“Are you stalling?”

I scowled. “Pink. It’s pink.”

“Is it?” he pressed. “How about music? Who’s your favorite band? What about books? Your favorite genre? When was the last time you ate chocolate or stayed in your pajamas past eleven in the morning?”

I didn’t know if the walls were closing in or if it was just Jax crowding me. “What are you getting at, you little shit?” I accused.

And he got in my face, smiling at the challenge of my condescending name-calling. “How about a shower, K.C.?” The sound of his deep, husky voice swirled in my stomach and shot downward.

I gulped, licking my sandpaper lips. “Huh?”

He stared at my mouth, looking hungry. “The little shit—who’s not so little anymore—needs a shower,” he whispered, still staring at my mouth. “Take a shower with me. Right now.”

I flattened my hands against the wall, the cool white-painted concrete blocks relieving the heat in my chest. Where the hell was he going with this? He didn’t want a shower with me.

I arched an eyebrow, trying to appear calmer than I was. “You called me gutless and helpless, Jax. Now you want to shower with me?”

“Show me, then.” There was a sincere look in his eyes, serious, as if he was searching my face for something. “Show me you’re not gutless. Take a chance.” He narrowed his eyes, imploring me, and I think I swallowed my heart, because my whole damn body was throbbing.

“I’m being serious,” he said quietly. “The team’s gone. We’d be alone. Walk into the locker room with me. Get in the shower with me. Show me how bold you are.”

I tried to say no, but the word was stuck in my throat. I wanted to say it, but I wouldn’t have meant it.

He reached down and took my pinky, rolling it between his fingers.

Looking down, he continued in the softest whisper. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.” And then he raised his gaze, killing me with the hint of sadness in his blue eyes. “You only have to walk, K.C. That’s it. I’ll get you out of your clothes. All you have to do is follow me. I know you want to.”

I dropped my eyes, and my face felt as if it would splinter in pain into a thousand cracks like paint on a China doll. Tears burned my eyes.

I did want to. I wanted someone to hold me and touch me, wanting to be with me.

He leaned in, the breath from his mouth fanning my lips. “Take a chance,” he whispered.

I fisted my hands, then stretched my fingers and fisted them again. The urge was there. To reach out and touch him. Wrap my arm around his neck. Take his hand and let him lead me.

But I didn’t even have the will to make my legs move. He’d laugh at me. He’d use me. He’d see nothing worth keeping around. Soon he’d hate me.

Blinking away the tears, I looked up, not caring that he saw my watery eyes. And I shook my head.

He studied me, searching my expression, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, or disgusted.

He dropped his arms and stood up straight, the warm bubble his body created around me gone cold. “You’re afraid of yourself,” he said flatly. “Not me.”

And then he backed up, looking down at me and down on me. “And that’s why you’re gutless, K.C.”

Gutless. I bared my teeth, so fucking sick of him saying that.

“I have to shower.” All the softness from his voice was now gone. “You need to leave.”

And he turned around and strode for the men’s locker room.

I shook my head. I’m not gutless. I don’t want to be gutless.

I sniffled and cleared my throat, standing tall. “Maybe I just don’t want you,” I blurted out, and steeled my body when he spun around, looking surprised. “Maybe I just don’t want you, Jax.”

And I breathed out a small laugh as I spun around and headed for the door.

But before I even reached the handle, an arm circled my waist, yanking me back into his warm body, and I gasped just as my hair was swiped to the side and a hot mouth was on my neck.

Everything fell apart.

My knees buckled, my eyes closed, and my neck fell to the side, inviting him in.

Oh, my God.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t stop him. His scorching mouth spread over my neck, breathing hot air on my skin that was already on fire, and he barely moved, as if he’d lost control just like me. As if he had just craved the contact. His teeth grazed my skin, rough but not hard, and he slid his lips and teeth over the sensitive area under my ear, and I wasn’t sure if he was kissing me or getting ready to eat me.

My chest shook, and I held on to his arm across my waist, but I didn’t need to. He held me so tight I couldn’t take in the deep breaths I hungered for.

But I could feel him, and that was all I cared about. His cock pressed into my back, and I writhed into him as his lips started moving on my skin. He scattered short kisses across my neck, at the base, and under my ear. His tongue flicked my earlobe right before his other hand reached around and turned my chin to him.

And then his mouth was on mine. I moaned, probably sounding as though I was in pain, but I couldn’t help it. The tornado between my legs was powerful and sweet, and it made me feel like an animal. Wild and … just simply wild.

Jax’s tongue found mine, and I groaned into his mouth, inhaling his scent while his powerful body held me. The heat, the wetness, the taste, everything was hard and fast as his lips worked mine.

As he kept an arm around my waist, his other hand left my face and went straight under my skirt into my underwear.

“Oh,” I whimpered a muffled groan into his mouth that still held me hostage. What was he doing? I needed to stop this!

But my eyes fluttered as his smooth fingers dipped into my center, swirling the wetness already there around my clit.

And then his mouth left mine, and he yanked me up off my feet and growled in my ear.

“You’re so wet for me, K.C.” His voice was hard and threatening. “Gutless, helpless, and a fucking liar, too.”

And then he dropped me, and I fell on my ass to the mats, shaking with confusion.

All I heard behind me was a door open and close, and I knew I was alone.

Bringing a shaky hand to my mouth, I sucked in air as if it were going out of style. Holy shit.

CHAPTER 5

K.C.

The air in the high school sat like a layer of wet clothes on my skin, dense and moist. It almost took effort to move through it on my way to the front office.

But I liked it.

Adding to the dimly lit hallways and the sound of rain threatening harder and harder against the roof, the atmosphere drowned out the evidence that anyone else lived in the world but me. And I needed that feeling right now.

More than just Jax’s kiss had hit a nerve the other day, and I kept swirling his words around in my head. How was it that he knew me so well? He anticipated every argument that came out of my mouth and calculated my reactions, knowing the outcome beforehand, and I couldn’t keep up. Now, a week later, he was still on my mind as much as food and breathing.

I really wanted to hit him, and I wasn’t sure why.

Christ. I tucked my hair behind my ear as I continued down the hall.

It had started storming an hour ago. Since they kept most of the lights off in the school during the summer days—except for the ones in the classroom—to conserve electricity, the only reminder that it was late morning was the reflections of rain bouncing off the windows and their shadows dancing on the walls. We’d just finished both sessions, but you wouldn’t know it. Already the school was nearly empty. Cheerleading and lacrosse never showed up, because of the weather, and at least a third of the tutoring students were absent as well.

Tutoring. I let out a sigh, moving down the steps.

Our progress had been slow during the past few days, the kids having mentally checked out because of summer break, I was sure. Although I had a few students I enjoyed—Ana was actually cooperative and apt with her skills—the lot of them were a struggle, and I knew I was doing something wrong. They wouldn’t volunteer, they wouldn’t answer questions, and they weren’t happy. I sucked.

But when I looked around at the other tutors and their groups, I saw the same pattern. Disinterest and flat-out boredom. Of course, who would want to spend their summer break cooped up in a hot classroom when their friends were at Swansea Lake swimming, drinking, and making out? And why should I worry if they succeeded in school? If they didn’t care, then neither should I.

But that was a shit response, and I knew it. I did care.

“Those kids don’t need an attitude adjustment. You do.”

Damn Jax.

Jax, whom I had barely seen since the kiss last Monday.

Jax, who had me stealing looks out the window as he ran, laughed, and sweated on the field.

Jax, who literally dumped me on my ass after kissing me breathless in the weight room.

Jax, who used to watch me in high school, and now I was the one watching him.

I dug in my heels, pulled open the main office door, and stepped through, looking around for a sign of anyone. The room was spooky, void of any light, life, or noise aside from the echoes of rain coming from every direction. The reflection of the storm created bubbles of light on all the countertops, and the sound of waterfalls surrounded me, hitting all four walls.

The storm was picking up, and I wondered how I was getting home, as I usually walked. I had to remember to call Shane.

“This isn’t up for discussion.” I twisted my head at the bark coming from the nurse’s office.

Who …?

But the voice continued. “As I said …”

Forgetting the reams of paper I was supposed to be collecting from under the counter, I inched toward the open door of the nurse’s office a couple of doors down the hallway.

My short, layered black skirt wafted silently over my thighs, and I rubbed the chill from my arms, bare in their turquoise tank top.

“Yeah, Jared. I know who our father is.”

I stopped, my stomach doing a somersault. It was Jax. And he was talking to his brother.

“I took a hell of a lot more beatings than you did,” he growled. “So stop trying to protect me.”

Beatings?

Stepping up to the open door, I tilted my head to peek inside, and instantly felt the butterflies take flight in my stomach.

Jax was a bloody mess. Literally.

He was dressed in long black mesh shorts with black running shoes. His hair was still pulled back tight to his scalp, but it stuck to his wet back, and I wasn’t sure if it was sweat from working out in the weight room or rain from being outside. He held his cell phone between his ear and his shoulder as he stalked around the room, apparently looking for something. Clearly having a hard time, because he was holding a hand up to a scrape on his stomach even though the one on his elbow was dripping crimson blood on the tiled floor.

I could hear Jared’s voice on the other end, but it was too faint to make out what he was saying.

Jax was swinging open cabinet doors and slamming them shut again, and while he appeared to be battered up, I got the feeling his irritation wasn’t about the scrapes.

“If he gets out early, then he gets out!” he shouted, and I winced as he kicked a cabinet shut. “You get your fucking restraining order, and leave me out of it,” he commanded. “If he comes near me, I’m putting a knife in his throat.”

And I heard Jared’s voice loud and clear this time. “Don’t give me something else to worry about!”

Jax didn’t respond. He yanked the phone away from his ear, pushed a button, and threw it on one of the cots.

“Son of a bitch,” he grunted, bowing his head into the arm that he had propped against the cabinet.

His chest rose and fell quickly, his breathing labored, but I knew it wasn’t from his injuries. I stood there, chewing the inside of my lip, knowing that I should just back away and get out of there. He’d been a total ass to me ever since I got back into town.

But instead of getting away from him, my instinct was to … what? Make sure that he was okay?

Truth was, I actually liked seeing him like this. Completely out of control—and I was in awe.

He was hunched forward slightly, and as the seconds passed, I heard his breathing turn slow and steady.

I’d never seen Jax really worked up. Jared sported his temper like a flare in the sky. He shot off bold and bright, blazing through the crowd so everyone within an easy distance knew when he was angry. Jax always—always—moved with stealth and precision, as if all his decisions were premeditated and calculated. I often found myself wondering if Jax ever slept, or instead stayed up, planning his days to anticipate every conversation he might have or every turn he might have to take.

But really, what would it take for him to lose control? Kind of like the way he just did? And why was I hungry to see his temper again?

His father, I thought. That was definitely a twist of the screw that drove him close to the edge.

Just like me.

I licked my lips and spoke up. “Lie down.”

He dropped his hand and swung around to pin me with angry eyes, as if he knew it was me right away.

Those azure jewels held me frozen for about two seconds, and I noticed the way the flawless caramel skin of his face tightened and his jaw hardened, bringing out smooth hollows in his cheeks and the severe slant of his black eyebrows.

Someday, I told myself. Someday we might look at each other when one of us wasn’t scowling.

I used to be the one shooting daggers at him. Now he was looking at me as if I were a four-year-old who needed to be tolerated.

“Lie down,” I urged, staying calm. “I’ll find the saline wash and bandages.”

I caught sight of his eyes narrowing, regarding me suspiciously, before I veered around him to the cabinets along the wall.

But then I felt a hand wrap around my upper arm, and I stopped to look up.

His whole face was a mask—nothing was getting out. I followed a trail of water that cascaded down his temple to his cheekbone, and I swear a tinge of salt hit the air. I licked my lips.

His Adam’s apple moved up and then down before he spoke. “I can do this myself.” His voice came out raspy.

I arched an eyebrow, and my eyes dropped to his fingers wrapped around my arm. “I never said you couldn’t,” I said, and peeled one of his fingers off my arm, bringing the rest with it.

Turning back around, I busied myself finding the wound wash and the bandages, and tried to keep myself from being aware of every move he made. My ears picked up his squeaky footsteps as he left my side and then the creak of the cot as he settled his weight.

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth, reaching up to grab the saline wash, and accidentally knocked a bottle of peroxide out of the cabinet. Thankfully the bottle was plastic, but I still fumbled as I dived down to snatch it off the floor.

Jax and I were alone, and it wasn’t a fluke. I was a mess around him. Every time.

He was half-naked and lying on a bed. The school was dark, nearly deserted, and—damn it—I squeezed my eyes shut, releasing a long, smooth breath as I shoved all the items into my arms and powered over to the cots.

Jax was not lying down.

I stared at him, lying half on and half off the cot, and it was only when I heard something drop to the floor that I realized my muscles were failing me and I’d dropped something. Tightening my arms closed again, I blinked and averted my eyes before dumping the supplies on the bed next to him.

His black sneakers were planted to the floor, while the top half of his long body lay on the cot. Not so unusual. Maybe he felt vulnerable laying his whole body down.

No, the weird part was that he’d propped himself up on his elbows, and that was what got my arms pumping with liquid nerves.

He was going to watch.

I took a deep breath and leaned down to open up some bandages. “Lie back,” I mumbled, feeling his eyes follow me.

“No.”

What?

I shot my eyes over to him and immediately froze. Jax’s eyes stared right through me, unblinking. They slid down my tank top, and as his gaze traveled back up to my face, I saw the corner of his mouth curl, looking relaxed and amused. And that was it.

Jaxon Trent was the goddamn devil.

I shook my head. “I’m trying to be nice. You could, too.”

“Nice?” He laughed to himself. “I don’t want your nice.”

I clenched my teeth. What the hell was his problem?

Grabbing the bottle of peroxide I’d dropped on the floor, I unscrewed the cap and poured a short stream onto the gash on his stomach.

He hissed and grabbed some gauze, covering the wound. “What the hell?”

“Oops,” I chirped, and screwed the cap back on.

I dumped the bottle on the cot, kicked his feet apart, and knelt between his legs. And I watched him watch me as I placed my hands on his thighs and slowly lowered my head to his wound. Peeling his hand away, I blew a cool, light breath over his bubbling cuts, soothing the sting I’d created.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his body jerk and then go completely still as if he weren’t even breathing. I puckered my lips and blew soft breath after soft breath across his narrow abdomen, moving my head side to side along the short range of shallow cuts.

A hint of his scented body wash wafted around me, along with the rain and sweat, and I closed my eyes, losing myself to the fuzz in my brain.

“K.C.,” he breathed out, and I looked up to see his head drop back as he closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell hard, and I couldn’t look away. His torso went on for miles, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

He loved this, and for fuck’s sake, I was half tempted to kiss him better.

Leaning back on my heels, I looked up at him, my lips twitching with a smile. “You like my nice,” I said, teasing.

I smirked and stood up on my knees, grabbing the saline solution and gauze as he brought his head back up to watch me.

“So, how did this happen?” I asked, holding the gauze on his skin, under the cuts, to catch the saline.

His abs flexed, probably from the cold fluid, since saline didn’t sting, as I poured it over the cuts, cleaning them.

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Some of the science kids have greenhouses on the roof,” he grunted, and I almost laughed out loud. “Masters asked me to go up and make sure the roofs were closed, but I slipped coming back down the stairs. Scraped myself on some bolts.”

Ouch.

I used the rest of the gauze to wipe up the solution, and then ripped open a package with a wet wipe and made sure the blood was cleared up.

“You should be using gloves,” he pointed out. “You know? Blood and all.”

“I thought any girl was safe with you,” I shot back, tearing open bandages. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

Jax was silent for a minute, narrowing his eyes further and watching me as I placed three rectangular bandages on his stomach.

“I said any girlfriend of mine,” he finally clarified. “But you shouldn’t be so careless. Use gloves next time.”

I ignored him, feeling weird on the occasions he acted like this. Jax had a habit of scolding me, sometimes acting as though he was protecting me, and then following it all up with being an asshole. I finally figured out condescension was his way of gaining superiority. Making others feel stupid.

I sat back, looking him in the eye and changing the subject. “Is anything else hurt?”

He hesitated only a moment. And then folded his arm back, lifting his right elbow to reveal the scratches I’d noticed earlier.

Repeating the same procedure, I stood up and leaned over him, catching the saline wash as it cascaded over his wound and into the gauze.

He hissed, and I blinked.

“Blow on it,” he ordered.

“It doesn’t sting,” I scoffed, knowing damn well that saline didn’t hurt.

“K.C., Jesus,” he barked, wincing.

I rolled my eyes but gave in. Holding the underside of his arm—his hard triceps—I leaned down and released a slow, cool breeze over the scratches. Jax’s scent wafted over me again, and I desperately wanted to close my mouth so I could breathe him in through my nose.

But I didn’t. I could tell his eyes were on me.

“Why are you watching me?” I asked, wiping up the rest of the solution and blood.

I didn’t look at him, but I heard him swallow.

“This is just the first time you’ve ever made me feel good, is all,” he replied in probably the most candid way I’d ever heard him speak.

I pinched my eyebrows together.

The first time I’d ever made him feel good. I didn’t know what to say to that. Hell, I had nothing to say to that.

Keeping quiet, I finished applying his bandages as fast as I could and didn’t meet his eyes again. He’d tried to be nice to me in high school. He’d tried to be a friend. Maybe friends with benefits but still a friend. Now here I was, forcing my attention on him, and he probably had no patience for me anymore.

“Can I ask you a question?” I ventured.

“What?”

“That night you drove Liam home …” I swallowed, smoothing my fingers over the bandage I’d fixed to his arm. “You said you had tattoos. Too many.” I repeated his words, my eyes fixated on his forearm. “What did you mean?” I pressed, because clearly Jax didn’t sport any tattoos. His statement hadn’t made any sense.

Even though I hadn’t looked at him, I noticed his head turn away as he inhaled a slow, deep breath. Kind of as though he was getting ready to dive deep underwater and knew he wouldn’t be up for air for a while.

“Sorry,” I said quietly, straightening up and crumpling the bandage wrappers in my fist. “I just … I don’t know …” I trailed off. “I just want to understand.”

I finally met his eyes, and he studied me silently. I didn’t know if he was trying to figure out what to tell me or if he wanted to tell me anything at all. Funny thing was, I’d thought about what Jax said that night a lot over the years, and while I was curious, it wasn’t until I’d overheard his conversation with Jared today that I knew it had something to do with his childhood.

And I realized that I didn’t know Jaxon Trent at all.

He rubbed his forearm and narrowed his eyes briefly before relaxing. “If you could get a tattoo, what would it be?”

I blinked, shocked by his question. “Um.” I laughed softly, thinking. “I thought about a set of angel wings, I guess. With one of the wings broken,” I admitted.

“It has something to do with your past?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“And it’s something you want to remember?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

“That’s why I don’t have any tattoos,” he concluded. “People get tattoos for all kinds of reasons, but they’re always badges of what has made them who they are. I don’t care to remember what and who made me this way. The people that gave me life. The people that brought me up …” He shook his head, defiant. “The places I’ve seen or anything I’ve done. It’s all in my head, anyway. I don’t want it on my body, too. I don’t care about anything that much.”

His sneer wasn’t for me, but I knew I’d hit a sensitive area. And I kind of understood where he was coming from. The scars were on the inside—still doing their damage—and he didn’t want reminders when he looked in the mirror.

Our friends had been lucky. Tate’s mother—although deceased—had loved her. Her dad? Always there for her. Hell, even Jared’s mom had turned out pretty awesome. And Shane’s parents were overbearing, but they were compassionate.

And I finally saw what connected Jaxon Trent and me. How very different our lives would’ve been without our neglectful parents. Or with different parents.

“No mothers, no fathers,” I whispered to myself.

“Huh?”

I blinked, shaking my head. “Nothing.”

I barely noticed it, but when my lungs started to burn, I realized I wasn’t breathing.

I took a deep breath and picked up the supplies, standing up. “Your brother is important to you, right?” I asked. “Jared, Madoc, Tate … Maybe someday you’ll see how lucky you really are or find something or someone you do care enough about.”

Maybe me, too, I thought as I walked to the cabinets, putting the materials away.

Nice and tidy, the way I had found them.

Light flashed through the room, and moments later I heard the thunder roll outside.

Shit. I still hadn’t called Shane.

I heard the cot creak behind me and knew Jax had stood up. “It’s raining,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride home. Come on.”

I turned to find him standing in the doorway, filling up the frame and slipping his gray T-shirt over his head, a tear and bloodstains visible on the material.

Jesus. I damn near gulped at the way his ab muscles flexed and the V underneath disappeared into his shorts. The shirt draped loosely over his stomach, but the dips and curves of his biceps took up every spare bit of space in his short sleeves. Tall, with just the right amount of muscle, he was perfect. And I’d bet every woman thought the same damn thing when she looked at him.

Sex.

I turned back to the cabinets, trying to slow my breathing and not think of Jax and me alone in a car.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” I shook my head. Yeah, hell to the no.

“That’s okay,” I mumbled with my back to him. “I’ll call Shane.”

“If you even think of putting your cousin on the road in this weather,” he threatened in a smooth, deep voice, “I may have to see what I can do to get you on your knees again today.”

My face fell, and my tongue went dry. Little shit.

“Don’t piss me off, K.C. I’ll be in front of the building in five minutes.”

And then he was gone.

Jax’s car used to be Jared’s. I’d seen it plenty over the years, and although it was older than Liam’s Camaro, it was definitely a hell of a lot tougher. Or maybe it just felt more solid. I don’t know. I remember being in Liam’s car, waiting at a stoplight and feeling as if the car’s engine was going to die or something. Just the way it puttered felt as though it was about to give out at any moment.