This Is Love (Evermore University #2)

6. Jaxon

6

JAXON

From somewhere off to my right, a strangled noise reaches me through the pounding of the blood, heavy in my skull. It crashes with such violent force, it’s a wonder I hear anything else. My brow furrowing, I exhale hard and pry my eyes open again, swiveling toward the sound.

Logan leans against the wall about eight feet from me, his hands covering his face as his chest jerks with undeniable angst. My teeth grind together as I study him in full-on breakdown mode. Three quick strides and I’m in front of him, hooking his elbow, and yanking him down the hall with me.

“The fuck, Jaxon,” he bites out, trying to pull his arm away, but before he can, I’ve thrown open the door of a supply room and shove him inside. Not bothering with the light switch on the wall, I let his eyes glitter angrily in the dark as his chest heaves. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

“Tell me how you losing it out in the hall is going to fucking help her. You’ve gone all soft. That’s not what she fucking needs right now,” I growl. Never mind that I almost lost it not two minutes ago. Never mind that I feel the same fucking way.

“Shut the fuck up. You couldn’t possibly care about her the way I do.” He charges forward as if he’s going to blow past me, but I catch him by the shirt, pivot, and slam him into the wall beside the door. He gasps, mouth dropping open.

I lean in close, my lips a hair’s breadth from his. “I really think you don’t know jack shit about me.”

“Are you always this fucking angry about every goddamn thing?” His blue eyes flash in the darkness, piercing mine.

“It’s always better to be angry, dickweed. Doesn’t do any good to spiral.”

He heaves out a breath, aiming a flinty gaze at me. “I think all this is you spiraling. You’ve been fucking spiraling since the day we met.”

My fingers clench his shirt, and I pull him forward before thumping him back into the wall again. His lip curls, but he doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t let a drop of complaint surface. He simply eyes me in this knowing way he has—like he can see right inside to all the parts of me that are at war.

Ferocious indignation roars through me, and I narrow my eyes. “Like I said, you don’t know me. You don’t know fucking anything.” I slam my lips down on his, taking everything I can from him. Swallowing his breath, stealing his anguish, ripping his dignity from him—and using all of it to fuel my fire. I release my hold on his shirt, pressing my chest to his, and pound my tightly clenched fists once on the concrete wall on either side of his head. The effect jars my bones, which is kinda what I’d intended. Anything to shake me free of this hold he’s gaining over me.

It doesn’t fucking work. My lips torment and my teeth gnash as I grind against his body from mouth to thigh. The degree of his surprise is only matched by the ardent kisses erupting between us as I shove my tongue between his lips, licking wildly as I search for something I’m unsure I’ll ever truly find. Maybe what I’m seeking is proof that this thing between us means absolutely fucking nothing. But the truth that I’ll admit to myself is this: inside these moments of insanity are the only places I’ve found salvation in a very long time. It’s fucking terrifying.

He groans into my mouth, his arms wrapping around my torso. Fingers dip under the hem of my shirt, searching for skin, and when he finds it, he drags them down my back, clawing at my flesh.

His actions ignite something else within me—the need to take and possess and fucking forget. I don’t want to think about this shit between us and everything that’s happening down the hall. I can’t focus on a damn thing except what’s transpiring right here in this sterile-smelling room. A room with no lock. A room that anyone could enter at any time.

My blood roars like a demon screaming inside my veins. What we’re doing is madness. Take, take, take. I drink from him in deep, greedy pulls, my tongue waging war as it feverishly strokes against his. The rhythmic yet chaotic thumping of his heart against my chest has me frantic with want.

Anything. Anything that will make me forget.

“Fuck, Jaxon.” Logan’s hands slip to my sides before shoving between us to unbutton my jeans and rip my zipper open. One quick yank and my pants are down around the tops of my thighs and his hand is on my cock. I’m painfully hard, and the grip he has on me is a high I didn’t know I needed. Gasping, I let the hot blood in my head swirl. I’m mindless, enthralled by the way he’s expertly handling my dick as if it were his own.

“I don’t get why I let you do this to me,” Logan mutters. “But I need this. Need something to take me out of my fucking head.”

“Shut up,” I mumble against his mouth before diving in for another deep kiss. I don’t need him trying to make sense of what I’m doing, because I don’t even fucking understand it. My fingers drift into his tousled hair, and I get great satisfaction from the grunt I pull from him when I tug on it, holding his mouth to mine.

A moment later, though, it’s me letting a choked sound spill from my lips. He’s stroking me as best he can manage with his hand and my dick caught between our demanding bodies. His other hand, though, has found purchase on my ass cheek, and he’s using it to hold me to him. We crash together over and over, grinding and groping and struggling. Every action of mine elicits one in him, whether it’s a savage nip of my teeth to his neck or a vicious jerk of my cock.

His thumb swipes my slit, smearing pre-cum over the head of my dick. I might be burning alive at his touch, at the rough feel of his hand on me, but fuck it. Fuck the part of me that screams I should put a stop to this. I’d be a fucking liar if I said I wanted him to stop. The stubble on his cheek scrapes over mine before he finds my mouth. Savagely clamping down on my bottom lip, he opens his eyes, and we stare at each other. The fire flashes, treacherously close to consuming us; the battle between us furious and seething. Desperation leaches from me, though I’ll never tell him how much I fucking need every bit of this.

As I’m thrusting, his hand has been hot on my skin, gripping my ass. A second later, though, he lets go, bringing his fingers to my mouth. “Suck,” he demands, nudging his fingertips at the entrance to my mouth. Eyes flashing, I consider taking them into my mouth and fucking biting them. But the minute I taste his skin, I close my lips around them and swirl my tongue. He lets out a garbled, unholy sound before exhaling hard. “That’s it. Make sure they’re wet.”

I give them one last swipe of my tongue, barely holding back a moan as he slips them from my mouth. With our eyes locked, he edges those spit-soaked fingertips to the top of my crease. Chest heaving, the pounding of my heart intensifies, blood roaring like a raging river through my veins. The noise it makes in my head is deafening. He licks over my lip at the same time his hand moves south. Startled, my dick throbs hard in his grip, and then I full-on shudder as I nearly come on the spot.

Fuuuck. My breath jerks unsteadily from me as bold digits ease lower. I swear, my head is set to detonate. Every beat of my heart knocks against my chest, and our staring contest goes on until I can’t handle it anymore and give in, crushing my mouth to his while shutting my eyes so he can’t be sure of what I’m thinking.

He touches deft, sure fingers to my asshole, and I bite out a curse into his mouth. And then, as they move, doing things to me I didn’t have a clue were possible, a moan falls from my lips, unfiltered and raw.

What started out as a distraction has become something that threatens to change every single fucking thing I knew about myself. I’m on the verge of destruction at the hands of the one person I’d never want to give that pleasure. We tear at each other’s mouths while I grind my cock into his pre-cum coated palm. Every movement I make is torture as his fingers circle the puckered rim of my ass. Toying with me. I exhale in undignified starts and gasps, the way it feels too different, too good for me to fucking care.

He’s got my entire body vibrating with need, and it makes me feel alive yet numb all at once. I don’t want to think about the dark, reckless emotion emerging. I rake my hands from his shoulders down his pecs and over the sides of his torso, grasping his shirt and pulling it up to reveal his abs. The heat of his skin under my fingertips adds another layer of fierce desire that I hardly know what to do with, but it has me panting for more.

Logan’s making me sweat. Nerve-endings I never paid attention to before have my full attention now, and I claw at him as fingers circle the remarkably sensitive skin. My face burns with the intensity of sensations rioting within me. I bury my face against the side of his neck, baring my teeth and biting down on his skin, sucking it into my mouth.

Chaos reigns, sparks of pleasure shooting through me, and whether it’s the salty taste of his skin, his firm hand on my dick, or— Oh, fuck. “Fuuuck,” I heave out as the tip of his finger breaches the tight ring of muscle, and I give a strangled shout as euphoria rips down my spine and cum begins to spurt from me like a fucking fire hose, spraying his well-muscled stomach.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his lips twitching mildly. “I don’t know what your fucking deal is, Jaxon, but?—”

A sharp retort dances on the tip of my tongue. I draw in a breath. “You?—”

“Yeah. I’ve just gotta grab a few things from the supply closet. Be right there.” All the breath rushes from my lungs at the female voice coming from immediately outside the door. I ease back, staring at Logan, shell-shocked.

We’re about to get caught with my pants literally down. I hurriedly push away from him. His hands stop his shirt from falling into the mess I created on his abs. He clutches it at nipple level as his eyes widen. There’s more conversation from outside, but I can tell they’re coming closer. Our gazes remain locked as I shove my dick back into my boxer briefs and yank up my pants. His eyes flick to shelves at the side of the closet and my eyes follow, seeing the paper towels that have caught his attention. I go over and pluck a roll off the shelf, then lob it at Logan. To his credit, he catches the missile I throw with one hand, then swiftly tears a few sheets off before swiping them over his stomach in jerking motions. He chucks the roll back at me and drops the cum-soaked ball of paper towels into the trash can by the door just as the door flies open and the light flicks on.

Startled, a woman in pink scrubs stops in her tracks. Her eyes volley between the two of us, lips parted in her surprise.

“Sorry,” I mumble, gesturing to Logan. “My friend’s a little upset, and he doesn’t like people to see him cry. I made him come in here so he could get it out of his system.” Shooting her a charming, sheepish look, I grip the back of my neck, tugging. While she focuses on me, Logan shoots me the mother of all eye rolls to go with the perturbed set of his jaw.

“Oh!” she exclaims, her voice soft. “That’s okay.” Her gaze swings to Logan, who—to my utter surprise and delight—runs a hand over his cheek and shrugs, going along with the ruse.

He clears his throat. “We’ll get out of your way. Sorry again.” Pressing his lips together, he makes a move to exit, and she nods, smiling kindly at him.

“There’s a small waiting area down at the end of this hall that could be useful to you. Most people don’t even realize it’s there. It might be more comfortable than hanging out in the hallway or heading back out to the ER waiting room.”

All the way to the door now, he backs out while saying, “Thanks. I appreciate that.” He spins on his heel and disappears from view.

“I’d better catch up with him,” I huff, blowing out a breath. Jesus . I can’t imagine what she’d have thought if she walked in here thirty seconds earlier.

“Sure, of course.”

A moment later, I’m out in the hallway and catch sight of Logan as he opens a door at the end of the hall and slips inside. I hurry after him, following him into the room. Shutting the door, I turn, then rest my back against it while I allow my gaze to wander over this guy who is ready to destroy me. His back is to me as he stands at the mini sink on the counter. He washes his hands, then gestures to the coffee maker. “Need coffee still? We left ours in the room with Rya.”

I snort at him, slowly shaking my head.

“Is that a no? Cool.” He proceeds to put a to-go cup under the Keurig contraption and makes a cup for himself, adding sugar and a couple creamers. Finally turning around, he stares blandly at me.

“I just have one question for you. Did you enjoy getting to put your greedy little gay-as-fuck fingers on me?” I smirk inwardly. Time to pull a complete one-eighty on him again. Fucking with Logan’s head is one of my favorite things—one of the only things that brings my dark heart pleasure these days. I’ve hated him for so long… being able to pay him back for the shit I’ve endured thanks to the way he stood by the wreckage of my family and accepted for himself what was once mine? It’s a balm to my black soul.

“Yeah, man. Whatever you think.” His eyes flash with something I can’t quite read. For a second, I think he’s done, and I’m about to poke the bear again when he narrows his gaze on me. “Oh, and, Jaxon? I’m not ‘gay as fuck.’ I’m bi. Ask Rya sometime if you think I’m lying. She’s well aware as of a week ago.” One brow arches as he watches me with fiery blue eyes.

A memory of the hurt expression on his face back in the hotel room flashes through my mind, irritation had coated his features as he listened to me and Rya as we got sexy over video chat. It hits me like a ton of bricks that maybe there was something more going on with him that night than I thought.

I blink as he shoots me a tight smile, then picks up his coffee and slams out of the room. First, I thought she was his girlfriend. Then I assumed she was his convenient beard. And now… Mother fucker .