Текст книги "Falling Away"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

But, sitting in Jax’s black Mustang GT, I felt as if I were sitting in a turbo jet as solid as a bullet the way it glided effortlessly through the torrential downpour. Inside, the spotless black interior was dark and narrow, like being in a cave. Outside, the wind blew sheets of rain across the windshield. I had to squint to see, because the windshield wipers could barely keep up with the downpour.

But the car provided a haven from the rain pounding on the rooftop outside, and the spray under the tires was a distant echo.

Even though I was safe and warm, I couldn’t shake the nerves making the hair on my arms stand up. I clenched my skirt in my fists and looked at nothing out the window.

He was too close. And—I rubbed my fists down my warm thighs—he wasn’t close enough.

“Here.” Jax spoke up, startling me. He reached behind in the backseat and tossed me a towel. “It’s clean.”

Of course it was. Jax might get his hands dirty from time to time, but his clothes and his car—at least from what I’d seen on the outside—were always impeccably clean. Hell, even his house looked pristine when I’d been in there.

“Thanks,” I said as I caught it at my chest.

Something to do. Anything …

I reached down and brushed off the droplets of rain that had drenched my legs, and then slipped out of my flip-flops to pat my feet dry.

I hadn’t gotten completely soaked, and Jax had driven the car as close to the school as he could, but I still caught an onslaught of fat drops. My clothes were blotched with nickel-size circles, and some of my hair was sticking to my neck and shoulders.

Brushing up my thighs, I straightened my back against the seat and wiped the water off my bare arms.

But I was still shit out of luck.

He was watching me, and I could damn well feel it.

Turning around, I placed the towel in the backseat again and stilled when the grumbling of my stomach—evidence that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—burst forth in the otherwise quiet car.

Shit. I twisted back around and fastened my seat belt, hoping he hadn’t heard it.

No such luck.

“Are you hungry?” Jax looked over at me. “I have some snacks if you want.”

“No, I’m fine,” I mumbled, not making eye contact.

But then my belly whirred again, and I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my stomach, melting into the seat.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he chuckled, and I opened my eyes to see him reaching behind the seat again and digging a container out of his duffel bag. “Eat,” he ordered, dumping a plastic Tupperware container in my lap.

I pursed my lips. Why did he have to sound so condescending all the time?

“I’m fine,” I said flatly, turning my glare out the window. “I’ll be home soon anyway.”

“So I can give you a ride home, but you won’t eat my food?”

My eyes widened, and I looked over at him. “You made me let you give me a ride home,” I pointed out, and then added quietly, “Which I appreciate. Of course.”

I shook my head, unable to keep the small smile from my lips.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll eat.”

And it took me no damn time to peel the lid off the container and smile at the watermelon chunks inside. Picking one out with my thumb and index finger, I joked. “Fruit?” I asked. “I’d never pictured you chopping watermelon, Jax.”

“But you pictured me,” he deadpanned, his cocky lips twisting up as he pulled the shifter down, powering ahead as if he knew everything.

I rolled my eyes, not even entertaining the idea of walking into that one any further. Sliding a piece of watermelon between my teeth, I bit the red cube in half, loving the grainy texture against my tongue. Sweet juice filled my mouth, and my stomach growled again, in appreciation.

Sucking the nectar to the back of my tongue, I swallowed and placed a hand over my mouth. “This is really good.” I nearly laughed, because I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. “Thanks.”

But glancing over at Jax, I lost my smile immediately. His straight face was focused out on the road, and he looked almost angry. The car had slowed, and an air of awkwardness had settled in his narrowed eyes.

“Am I eating your lunch?” I asked, all of a sudden feeling angry that he had bullied me into eating. “I told you I was fine—”

He cut me off. “Eat. Please.”

And I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, looking unsettled.

Unsure about his change in mood, I couldn’t figure out what to do. So I finally just continued munching, feeling the void in my stomach filling as Jax drove us through waterlogged streets.

Crossfade’s “The Deep End” filled the space around us, and I was lost, barely trying to hide how I watched him.

He did the whole guy thing as he drove—body pressed into the seat back, arm steel-rod straight on the steering wheel at twelve o’clock, and chin down. But whenever he shifted up or down, my gaze flashed to his hand, reveling in the cords of his forearm and how they flexed when he changed speeds. And I loved how the car gained momentum and the engine roared and vibrated, making my thighs shake.

I wanted to be able to drive like that.

I’d never asked Liam to teach me, even though he probably would have. Aside from all the damn cheating, my boyfriend—er, ex-boyfriend—was actually a nice guy and easy to get along with.

But I never thought I could learn. Which was stupid. I held my own in school. It wasn’t as though I was incapable of learning something new.

I kept eating, glancing down every time he shifted to watch him. Trying to memorize how he timed pressing in the clutch with shifting the gears and chewing as I studied his legs and arms all working to keep the car going.

My mother had taken me to the symphony in Chicago when I was little, and I remember watching the conductor while everyone else watched the musicians. The power of leading, of knowing when to push and pull, fascinated me. I was envious of having control like that. Of guiding so many instruments in a unified effort to create something so beautiful. It was like a magnificent puzzle, and you just had to find the right way—or maybe just your way—to fit them all together.

I chewed softly, watching Jax, my eyes moving up and down, following his movements, and I knew damn well that given the choice of the conductor or Jaxon Trent, I’d watch Jaxon Trent.

His long fingers clutching the shift, the muscular calves flexing every time they punched the clutch, the blue eyes that I swore turned black and intense as they stared out the window.

I could watch him work his car forever.

“You need to stop watching me like that.” I heard his voice, and I jerked my attention up to his face.

Shit!

He was still staring out the windshield, lips slightly open and looking cautious.

“What?” I asked, trying to act as though I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I wasn’t just drooling over his driving. But it was useless. My cheeks had warmed, and I’m sure it showed.

“You’re going to get us in a fucking accident,” he scolded.

I scowled. “Me? What did I do?”

He shook his head, letting out a small laugh. “Do me a favor, would you?” His voice was soft and smooth, threatening in how quickly he turned sensual.

He shot his eyes to me, and I closed my mouth, gulping the bit of watermelon I’d been chewing. Why the hell was he looking at me like that?

He jerked his chin at me. “The watermelon juice spilling over your lip?” he indicated. “Lick it up or I will.”

I dropped the piece in my hand and stared at him, stunned and hoping he was kidding. The dare in his eyes, the menace in his soft voice, the danger traveling from his side of the car over to mine—it was no joke. I blinked and turned my gaze back out the front windshield.

Fuck my life.

Darting out my tongue, I snatched up any remnants of juice from my lips and sealed the container back up.

My phone began chirping from my bag, and I reached down to retrieve it, thankful for the distraction. But looking at the screen, I winced.

My mother again. She’d called twice and had now sent another text.

Tate’s house. Ten minutes.

I shook my head and stuffed the phone back into my bag, swallowing the bad taste in my mouth. What the hell did she want?

First she didn’t even bother to make sure I made it home okay, and only a few days later she was calling and texting. Maybe she just couldn’t stand the fact that I hadn’t called her, but all I knew for sure was that I didn’t want to see her. Not today and maybe not for a while.

“Who was that?” Jax questioned.

I sighed, still looking out the window. Why lie? “My mom. She’s waiting at Tate’s house.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, feeling the sadness descend on me. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t talk to him. I couldn’t. Who knew what would happen if I tried opening my mouth right now? And how easily the thought of her face, her voice, her presence had sucked dry the blissful little bubble I’d just been in?

“How am I supposed to know?” I griped. “You ask too many questions.”

I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to hear her voice. I didn’t want her hands on me.

I pursed my lips together, avoiding Jax’s eyes that I could feel on the back of my head.

We rounded the corner onto Fall Away Lane, the weight of the rain barely affecting the speed at which Jax traveled.

I closed my eyes. Please keep going. Please. I clutched the door handle, the hollow ache in my stomach growing as he traveled closer and closer.

Three seconds.

Two.

And then one.

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop! My eyes went wide, and I spun my head around to see his self-satisfied eyebrow arched.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” I blurted out, planting my right hand on the dash to support myself as he picked up speed again.

“You want to go home?” he challenged.

No. “Uh … um,” I stuttered.

“Good.” He smiled at me and shifted into a higher gear—I could only tell because the speed picked up again. “I can relate,” he sympathized. “I wouldn’t want to see my parents, either.”

“Okayyy,” I drawled. “So, where do you think you’re taking me?”

He didn’t answer. He turned up the music and forged ahead through the dense storm and deserted streets.

CHAPTER 6

K.C.

The Loop was the town’s unofficial racing ring. Frequented throughout high school by every guy with a car to race or money to bet, it was nothing more than a dirt track circling a very large pond on the Benson Farm property.

Or it used to be.

“Jax, I think you should just take me home,” I said, trying to hide the bite from my voice as we turned onto the long driveway leading only one place.

I hated the Loop.

I hated cars. I hated not knowing about cars. I hated that my ex-boyfriend had met another girl here in high school. I hated that everyone was comfortable here except me.

And I hated that I was so insecure and ignorant that I was no more than wallpaper during events here.

“I’ve got you alone,” Jax teased. “And you’re not looking at me like I just pissed on your Prada for once,” he continued. “Let’s have some fun.”

I scowled. “Um, unless your plan is to get me naked—which won’t happen—I can’t imagine why you thought this would be fun for either one of us. I mean, what am I supposed to do here?”

“Drive.”

My heart pitter-pattered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

What? But … how? I couldn’t drive a stick! I tapped my feet, ready to dive out of the car, and I barely noticed that the crackle of gravel had disappeared under the tires.

I sucked in air, trying to fucking decide which battle to fight first. “Is the track paved now?” I blurted out.

The track now sported a concrete foundation, and it had been doubled in width. A few small sets of bleachers sat off to the side, and where viewers had once parked on the grass to the sides, now there was a set space.

“Jax?” I mumbled, taking in what I could through the blur of the rain. Were those stoplights at the finish line? And I looked off to the left. Was that a stand for the … announcer? Seriously?

“What’s happened here?”

“Look at me,” Jax ordered, ignoring my damn question.

I turned and met his eyes, forgetting my own damn question.

He pulled to a stop and set the parking brake. “How many guys have you had sex with other than Liam?”

My eyebrows did a nosedive. “Are you for real? Just get me out of here.”

What the hell was he doing?

His voice stayed light, with the hint of a laugh, as he held up his hands in defense. “I’m not trying to piss you off, Precious,” he teased, leaning his head back against the headrest and peering over at me. “I’m trying to make a point, okay? Driving a stick is like sex,” he stated.

“Every person you’re with is different. They’re like a code that needs to be broken.” He turned and ran his hands up both sides of the steering wheel, slow and smooth. “What parts like to be touched.” His sensual voice started stirring its way through my body. “Licked. Sucked. Bitten.”

Holy hell.

“Hell, some people don’t even need to be touched,” he pointed out. “Looking, teasing, playing mind games—everyone has that spot that jacks them into sixth gear, K.C.” And I stared, watching his every move as he turned and looked at me, speaking softly. “And this car is no different.”

“First, you have to find the clutch,” he instructed, and I yelped when he slammed his foot down, pushing in the lever. Jesus.

Releasing the parking brake, he placed one hand on the wheel and the other on the stick in sweet, luscious perversion.

“Then you have the gas.” He smirked, and his eyes stayed on me as he revved the engine but didn’t go anywhere. “Working the two together, you find the sweet spot. The point where she lets you take control.”

She?

“Push it.” He tapped the leg pressing into the clutch, and I licked my lips frantically, because my mouth was so dry. “And then accelerate her slowly”—he tapped the gas leg, and I heard him rev the engine again—“as you release her clutch … slowly.”

His legs moved, one coming up and the other moving down.

“Give-and-take,” he continued, eyes still holding me. “If I push her too fast, she crumbles.” He released the clutch, and I bobbed with the car as it died.

He pressed in the clutch and the brake and turned the key to the ignition again. “If I don’t push her fast enough, she’ll never move.” And he held in the clutch, unmoving, as he revved the engine with no success. “Push and pull. Accelerate and release.” I watched his legs work, releasing the clutch and accelerating the gas.

With my legs throbbing under me, I stared wide-eyed as Jax released the clutch and pressed the gas, vaulting down the track.

Grabbing hold of the dash, I peered outside at the vacant lane and let a small smile creep across my lips. It was definitely more fun being in the car than off to the side as a spectator. But I wanted to drive. I’d always been in awe of Jared and Tate, and I’d always wanted to learn, too.

“Eyes on me,” Jax barked.

I twisted my head over to him and sat back.

“Manual transmissions are like sex to get them going, but they’re also like sex to keep them going. Sometimes you have to change gears, speeding up or”—he turned his head to look at me—“slowing down when you need to.”

He jammed in the clutch and yanked the shifter down, released the clutch, and gassed it again. As we powered ahead, he did the same thing again, only he shifted up and to the right this time.

“Every time you change gears, you simply need to press the right buttons and find the magic spot again. When you want to speed up, shift up. When you want to slow down, shift down.” And he tapped the head of the shifter, indicating the diagram to where the levels were.

He circled the whole track, slowing down and shifting down when he rounded the corners and then speeding, shifting, and then speeding more when he accelerated. His legs, long and powerful, were in complete sync with whatever his arms were doing, and even though the car swerved in the rain and even spun out a little on the slick turns, Jax was like a conductor, pressing, releasing, shifting, and pushing.

Pressing, releasing, shifting, and pushing. Over and over again with my body jerking every time he yanked it up a notch.

My ass and thighs vibrated under me in time with the engine, and I warmed everywhere.

My gaze fell to his face, and a light sheen of sweat on the hollows of his cheeks made his olive skin even more beautiful.

I heard him laugh. “Stop looking at me like that, K.C.,” he warned. Shit. I blinked, clearing my throat. “My turn,” I changed the subject.

Turning to look out the front windshield, I rubbed my thighs together to dull the burn between my legs.

“Well, that was easy.” I could hear the laughter in his voice as he pulled to a stop at the finish/start line. “I’m actually honored that you let me teach you instead of Liam.”

“Don’t be,” I shot back, my guard going up. “I never asked Liam. I don’t want to go home, and you’re here, so …”

His eyes narrowed. “For that, I’m half tempted to make you sit in my lap while you drive,” he threatened.

I rolled my eyes and jerked my chin. “It’s raining. You hop out, and I’ll slide over.”

He twisted up his lips in irritation. “Yes, Princess.”

I ignored the barb as he opened the door, a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder filling the car. Biting my bottom lip to stifle the nervous tremble, I swung my legs over the console and grabbed the steering wheel, hauling myself into his seat, still warm from his body.

My fingers wrapped around his thick wheel, and the body heat he’d left behind on the seat spread through my belly and down my thighs. Rain pummeled the roof and hood, and I could barely see anything but his dark shadow rounding the car to the passenger side.

He opened the door and storm sounds flooded inside again.

“Thanks,” he bit out, crashing into the seat and shaking water off his arms. His long black shorts shone with rain, and his gray T-shirt was now a little darker.

And suctioned to his skin, making every dip and ridge of his abs and chest completely visible.

“You okay, Princess?” I asked, trying to look innocent.

He slicked back his hair and put on his seat belt. “Seat belt,” he prompted, ignoring me.

Pulling my belt on, I reached down and adjusted the seat and then reached for the ignition.

“Wait.” Jax put his hand on mine to stop me. He was so warm. “Do you have the clutch pressed in?”

I shook my head.

“Hold down the clutch with your left foot and the brake with your right,” he said. “When you’re ready, turn the ignition, but keep your feet in place.”

Doing as I was told, I kicked off my flip-flops and started the car. When the engine roared to life, I let out a smile even as a nervous heat weakened my arms and legs.

“Now.” He took my hand and placed it on the stick. “This is first gear.” And he held my hand in his as he shifted me out of neutral. “This is second.” We slammed straight down into second as he fisted me, and my arm was getting weaker.

I didn’t know why. I closed my eyes, feeling him move us.

“Third.” Up and to the right.

“Fourth.” Straight down.

“Fifth.” His deep voice carried me up to the right again. “And sixth.” He slammed me straight down, and my stomach fluttered as I lost breath.

“And this is reverse,” he said just above a whisper. “And just a tip. It’s better to drive with your eyes open, K.C.”

I blinked them open. Yeah, so I didn’t even know how to drive a stick yet, but I definitely wanted one as my next car.

I swallowed, scowling at him. “Can I go now?”

He smiled and leaned over to switch the music. Pop Evil’s “Trenches.” “A little inspiration for you, Tough Girl.”

“Yeah, okay,” I replied sarcastically. Releasing the clutch, I pressed the gas and sat stunned as the car sputtered to its death.

My face flooded with embarrassment, and I could hear Jax’s snort and see his chest shaking with silent laughter out of the corner of my eye.

“Mmm … so that’s your experience with men?” he joked. “I arrived just in time.” He took my hand, placing it on the stick.

“Turn on the car,” he prompted.

I did and sat with my foot on the clutch and my other on the brake.

“Put her in first,” he ordered, keeping his palm against my knuckles.

Using all my might until the muscles in my arm burned, I pulled the stick to the left and pushed it up into first.

“Okay,” he started. “Now, when I say go, I want you to—slowly—release pressure from the clutch as you apply pressure—slowly—to the gas. Give-and-take. Push and pull. You’re going to feel the spot where they meet, when one is ready to be released and the other is ready to take over.”

His azure eyes turned stormy, and his soft lips melted together as he studied me. “Are you ready?”

For what?

Oh, yeah. “Yes,” I choked out, nodding.

“Go ahead. Don’t release the clutch completely until you feel it.” And he sat back but kept his hand on mine.

Slowly, I relinquished pressure from the clutch and felt him watching me as I applied pressure to the gas.

“Slowly,” he reminded me.

As I pressed the gas, I felt the car start to move, and I looked to Jax, wide-eyed.

He grinned. “Do you feel it?” he asked. “She’s ready. Release the clutch.”

I took my foot off, and jiggled the steering wheel nervously as the car vaulted forward. My smile spread, and I laughed.

“What do I do now?” I shouted, excitement taking over.

“What do you think you do?”

“Shift?” I sucked in air and clutched the steering wheel.

He squeezed my hand. “When I say go, press in the clutch again, and we’ll shift,” he instructed me. “Go!”

“Jax!” I screamed at his lack of notice, and frantically pressed in the clutch. Jax grasped my hand and yanked us down into second.

“Again, release the clutch slowly as you apply the gas.”

I could feel his fingers slide between mine, and my heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

As I released and applied, I found the spot where they met in the middle and charged ahead, releasing the clutch again.

“I did it!” I burst out, smiling. “I did it!”

“Of course you did,” Jax said. “You ready for me to let go?”

“No!” I gasped, laughing. “Don’t you dare!”

I felt his hand tighten on mine, and his palm was so smooth and soft, his fingers fitting perfectly between mine.

The car reached thirty miles an hour and seemed to reach its peak. Pressing in the clutch, I looked down to the diagram on the stick—covered by Jax’s and my hands—and remembered that the next gear was up and to the right. Jax’s hand was light on mine as I shifted up and punched the stick into third, releasing the clutch as the gas took over.

I loved this. Even though I was stuttering my way down the track, and I could see Jax jerking with my rough transitions, I was filled with elation.

Driving a new car, the rest of the world blocked out by the rain out the window, and the delicious danger of Jaxon Trent sitting next to me. The boy my mother would never have approved of. The boy who was bad for me.

The boy who would do bad things to me if I let him.

Well, my mother had nothing to worry about after all. Jax might have wanted in my pants in high school, but this one saw the ten shades of wimp I was and was probably bored out of his mind right now.

“So, why did you get arrested?” Jax asked.

I took my hand out from underneath his and held the wheel as I rounded the first corner.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quietly.

“Is it embarrassing?” he prodded.

“No.” I winced. “Just … yeah, a little.” I looked over at him. “I mean getting arrested is embarrassing, despite the reason, right?”

He arched an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, never mind. In your world, wearing handcuffs is cool,” I mocked.

But then my face fell, realizing what I’d just insinuated.

“I didn’t mean that,” I blurted, looking over at his grinning face.

His hot eyes smiled at me. “You in handcuffs would be cool, K.C.”

Oh, shit.

I heard him laugh, but my eyes were blindly focused outside.

“Didn’t mean to distract you,” he sort of apologized. “Keep driving.”

Clearing my throat, I forged ahead, getting all the way to fifth gear in between turns and coming down successfully when I rounded corners. I went around the track twice and eventually relaxed enough to sit back and smooth into the transitions from gear to gear.

And I loved it. Enticing the car to move when I wanted it to move. Propelling it forward, dragging it back down … It was almost obscene how much I liked it.

The small smile I allowed myself might have been barely visible, but I felt it all over my body. As I rounded the final turn. As I shifted down. And as I slowed to a stop at the finish line.

I definitely want one of these, I thought as I sat there.

Jax let out a pleased sigh. “Now you know how to drive a stick.”

I bowed my head, hiding my smile from him. “Yeah,” I said quietly.

“You driving us to school tomorrow?”

I laughed and put the car in neutral, setting the parking brake.

Running my fingers up the steering wheel, I nibbled on my bottom lip before speaking.

“I caught Liam at a bar with another woman,” I started, not sure why. “I walked up to them—as they were making out—and grabbed a knife off the nearby bar and stabbed the table where they sat.” I twisted my embarrassed smile to the side, feeling the blush heat my skin. “And then I proceeded to wave the knife in front of both of them and threaten his loss of genitals,” I finished, closing my eyes, wincing at my idiocy. “Yeah.” I nodded, knowing what he must’ve been thinking. “I did that.”

“Badass.” He sounded proud. “Good for you.”

I opened my eyes and shrugged, still feeling stupid. “It was a butter knife,” I mumbled.

And Jax lost it. He let out a huge snort and laughed, the wheezing sound coming from the pit of his stomach as he slapped his thigh once in appreciation.

“Funny thing is,” I continued through his laughter, “I haven’t cried.” I looked over at him and narrowed my eyes. “I mean not about him. We were together for five years, and I don’t feel like anything is missing. Isn’t that weird?” I asked as Jax’s face calmed, and he listened.

I had to admit it, even as terrible as it sounded. And Liam probably wasn’t missing me, either. I wasn’t the easiest girlfriend, and although I regretted him, I couldn’t help feeling that he probably regretted me, too.

“You’re going to be okay,” Jax offered.

I shook my head, my voice turning sad. “I don’t want be okay,” I countered. “I want to be off the rails, Jax. I want to fight and scream and rage and lose myself. I want to be hungry.” I dropped my voice to a whisper as I looked out the windshield. “I want to be a mess. For once.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, I swung the car door open and stepped out into the rain. Slamming it shut, I turned around and placed my palms on the roof, bowing my head and closing my eyes. I breathed in and out, just wishing the rain would wash me away with the heat on my skin.

The fragrant smell of moss from the nearby pond coursed through my nostrils, and the pitter-patter of drops on the water drowned out the noise in my head. I smiled gratefully as thin lines of water spilled over my lips, and the cool rain plastered my clothes to my hot skin.

“So, why don’t you do it?”

I popped my head up and spun around, seeing that Jax had come up behind me. “Do what?”

“Lose yourself.” His deep voice and challenging eyes were hard on me. “Find what makes you hungry. Go off the rails. Fight, scream, rage … Why don’t you just do it?”

I looked away. “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” I raised my voice, speaking over the downpour. “You don’t answer to anyone, Jax.”

He looked at me as if I was pathetic. “Oh, you’re so full of shit,” he chided. “You’re fucking scared. And you’re not going to realize it until you’re saddled in the suburbs with two-point-five kids and married to some dick who’d rather let his secretary blow him than come home to you.”

Tears welled and I swallowed them back, choking out my words. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you’re fucking gutless!” he taunted, his lips an inch from my face as he bore down on me.

I snapped my head up. “Stop saying that!” I raged.

“What?” He held a hand behind his ear, mocking me. “What was that? I can’t hear you, Gutless. No one hears you.”

My fingers fisted. “Fuck you!” I thundered, darting into his space.

“Get naked, and I will.”

“Ugh!” I slammed him in the chest, baring my teeth. “You’re a damn child. Grow up!”

And I gasped as he rushed me and snatched up my bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.

Holy shit. Fuck. Did he just bite me?

But I didn’t have time to process any of it. He grabbed my ass, still holding my lip between his teeth, and hauled me up, slamming me back against the car door.

“This kid grew up,” he threatened in a deep voice, grinding his hard-on between my legs. “And you’re gonna fuckin’ find out.”

Oh. My. God.

He covered my mouth with his and moved slowly, like the tides of an ocean, in and out, in and out, drawing my bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it out like a threat. I think my stomach growled, and all of a sudden I wanted to eat him.

“Jax.” I clutched his T-shirt in my fists, tensing as the tornado in my chest swooped down into my belly and then down between my thighs.

And just at that moment, he squeezed the back of my neck and pushed his tongue into my mouth.

I whimpered at the warm slickness of his tongue and moaned into his mouth.

“Oh, God,” I gasped, dropping my head back and breathing hard as his mouth continued down my neck. I couldn’t take his lips. It felt too good. Either that or I was too worked up. I clenched my thighs and groaned, the pulse between my legs pounding wildly.

“Jax, I’m … I … ,” I stammered. “Shit.” I couldn’t help it. I grabbed his hard waist and rolled my hips into his, showing him how much I desired him as he licked and kissed my neck.

“Jesus.” His breath tickled my ear. “You’re ready to come already, aren’t you?”

“But I still hate you,” I insisted. “And in a minute, you’re going to get your fucking hands off me.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my body to his, I sank my lips into his, which continued to move over mine as if they belonged to him.

And then I kissed his bottom lip, licked his top lip, kissed the corners of his mouth, and clutched the back of his damn neck as I stood on my tiptoes to meet him.

There was no escaping. Jax didn’t give me time to think or to stop. Pulling up my skirt, he grabbed the backs of my thighs and hauled me off the ground. I didn’t need instructions. I circled his waist, instantly feeling the thick ridge of his hard-on teasing me.