Chapter 22 Definitely Not Taking It #2
“Just what?” My fingers draw lazy circles around her clit, pressure light enough to tease, nowhere near enough to give her what she wants.
Her hips chase the touch anyway.
“Jax.”
“Use your words,” I murmur, leaning over her again, breath warm against her ear. “You wanted out of your head, remember? Say it. Tell me what you want.”
She sucks in a shaky breath, nails digging into the sheets.
“I want you to fuck me,” she grits out. “I want you to make it stop.”
Everything in me goes sharp at once.
“Good girl,” I say, voice low. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She swallows hard enough for me to notice. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Absolutely. Now let me enjoy you.”
I kiss her again as my hand moves with more purpose, fingers working her in firm, careful strokes. I pay attention to every twitch, every gasp, every time her body tightens and her thighs try to clamp around my hand.
Every time she gets close, breath hitching, hips pushing into my palm, I ease off just enough to keep her from tipping over. Not denial for punishment. Not this time. Just enough to keep her here with me.
“Jax,” she warns when I do it a second time. “Stop messing around.”
“I’m not.” I pause against her mouth. “I’m making sure you don’t check out before we even start.”
“I’m not checking out,” she snaps. “I’m trying to—”
“Forget,” I finish for her. “Yeah. I know. That’s the problem.”
My fingers press a little harder, a little more focused. Her breath stutters as she clings to my shoulders, biting my skin with her nails.
“You can forget everything except me. Everything else can burn.”
Her voice breaks. “You think I don’t want that?”
Something ugly and sweet twists in my chest.
“Then let me make it official. Come on my hand first. Then I’ll give you what you really came for.”
She curses, dropping her head back again.
It doesn’t take much more after that. Her body goes tight, her thighs tremble, and she lets go, clamping around my fingers as she comes with a sound that’s half-moan, half-swear.
I don’t stop until she rides it out, until the worst edge of it has passed and she’s sagging into the mattress, chest heaving.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
“Language.” I tease, even as my own pulse hammers in my ears. “Thought you liked denial.”
“You fucking know I don't.”
“Do I?” I smirk, unable to stop it. She reaches up and smacks my shoulder, weakly.
“Shut up.”
“No.”
She glares at me, but there’s no heat in it. Just something raw and fragile I don’t deserve to see.
“You done trying to drive?” I ask quietly.
She hesitates, then nods, once, like it costs her something to admit.
“Good. Because I’ve been wanting to wreck you all week.”
Her breath catches as I roll off the bed long enough to grab a condom from the bedside drawer, tearing it open with unnatural speed. When I turn back, she’s watching me with a dazed focus that makes me feel ten feet tall and made of glass at the same time.
I slide it on over my hard-as-fuck cock, fingers a little clumsy as every nerve in my body screams at me to just get back to her. When I crawl over her again, she reaches for me, hand splaying over my chest.
“Jax.” She calls my name, voice small.
“Yeah?” I brace a hand beside her head, the other guiding myself to her, lining my cock up to her pussy with more care than I’ll ever admit to.
“Don’t be gentle.”
Every muscle in me tightens.
Fuck, yeah!
Okay, yes. I love her.
“You sure?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
She holds my gaze, eyes steady. “If I wanted gentle, I would’ve gone to Theo.”
I huff out a broken laugh. “Fair.”
I dip my head and kiss her once, soft, a warning and a promise, then push in.
I thrust into her, taking her slowly but firmly, giving her the stretch and pressure she asked for.
Her back arches as a strangled sound tears from her throat. Her hands fly to my shoulders, then down my back, grabbing for leverage. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to go slow at first so she can adjust, so I don’t lose it like a stupid teenager.
“Fuck, Raine. You feel…”
There aren’t words good enough for this.
For her.
She clenches around me and my brain blanks.
“You okay?” I manage, needing to check.
She nods, breathless. “Yeah. Move, Jax. Please.”
Yeah, okay.
I’m only human.
I start a rhythm, deep and rough, exactly the way she asked for.
The bed creaks under us, headboard thumping the wall with a steady beat I’m going to hear in my sleep for days.
She meets every thrust, her hips chasing mine, greedy and gorgeous and not holding back.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails scoring my skin, and it feels so fucking right I could scream.
“Look at you,” I breathe. “Showing up at my place, crawling into my bed, taking what you want.”
“Shut up,” she bites back between gasps.
I go on, unable to help myself. “You came here and put your mouth on me before I could say hi. You know how insane that makes me?”
Her legs tighten around my hips, pulling me deeper. “If you stop moving to monologue, I’m going to suffocate you with your own pillow.”
“There she is,” I grin, even as I pick up the pace, every muscle burning. “There’s my girl.”
She makes a helpless sound at that—tiny, involuntary, like it slipped out before she could strangle it.
My vision goes a little fuzzy at the edges as I drive deep into her.
“Yeah,” I murmur, dropping my forehead to hers. “That’s right. Mine right now. You can fight about the labels later if you want, but here?” I thrust harder, punctuating the word. “Now? Mine.”
Her answer is a broken curse and a roll of her hips that nearly wipes my mind clean.
I feel her getting close again, the way her breathing turns ragged, the way her nails drag down my back, the way her body tightens around me like she’s trying to drag me over the edge with her.
“Don’t run from it.” I thrust more intentionally, feeling her clench around me. “You want out of your head? Then stay with me. Feel every second.”
She mutters something inarticulate that might be my name, might be a prayer, might be a threat.
Who knows, and who really cares?
I slide a hand down between us, finding her clit again, fingers working in time with my thrusts. She jolts, eyes flying wide, a gasp tearing out of her.
“Jax—”
“Give it to me,” I growl. “Come on. I want to feel you lose it on me.”
She breaks, her body clenching and shaking, burying her cry in my shoulder as the pleasure crashes through her. The way she tightens around me, the way she trembles, the way she says my name like it’s the only word she remembers—it’s all too much.
I follow, helpless, spilling into the condom as my rhythm stutters and I grind deep, riding it out until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but hold on.
For a long moment, the only sound is our breathing—harsh, uneven, echoing in the room. Eventually my muscles remember how to work and I ease out of her carefully, cleaning up our mess, then flopping onto my back beside her, arm thrown over my eyes.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
She doesn’t answer, so I turn my head to look at her. She’s already half-asleep, chest still rising fast, hair a tangle on the pillow, hoodie pushed up around her ribs, one hand fisted in the sheet like she held on through a storm and hasn’t realized it was over.
Something in my chest twists hard enough to hurt.
I roll onto my side and tug the blanket up over her hips, then slide an arm under her neck, easing her onto my bicep. She makes a small sound and burrows into my chest, nose pressing against my skin.
My hand finds her hair on instinct, fingers combing through it slowly, gently, working through knots and grease and whatever else is in there.
“Don’t get used to this,” I murmur, knowing if I say nothing, the feelings will drown me. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
She sighs, a tiny exhale, and relaxes a fraction more. I kiss the top of her head before I can stop myself.
“Yeah, yeah,” I tell the ceiling. “I know. I’m fucked.”
I lie there longer, staring at the dark, listening to her breathing even out, cataloging every little twitch and shift like a lunatic.
She hasn’t slept right all week. I can tell by the way her body clings to rest like it’s going to be stolen from her at any second.
Not today, Sunshine.
Not from me.
Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I go under with her.
My alarm goes off at eight.
For a second, I forget why my arm’s numb, or why there’s hair in my mouth, or why my apartment smells like her shampoo instead of my usual combination. Then she shifts against me, nuzzling closer like I’m a pillow she refuses to give up.
Careful as I can, I slide my arm out from under her head and roll away, immediately missing her weight. She doesn’t wake. Doesn’t even twitch.
I stand there for a second, watching her breathe, and fight the urge to cancel my shift and climb back into bed just to keep her here.
Instead, I grab my phone off the nightstand, pad to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and turn myself into something resembling a bartender—jeans, black tee, boots.
I scribble a quick note and stick it to the coffeemaker, knowing she’ll go hunting for caffeine the second she wakes up, then hover over my phone for a minute, dragging my thumb over the screen.
The group chat with the three of us is already a mess of texts from earlier.
Theo:
Anyone heard from Raine?
Elias:
She closed the shop early.
Theo:
She hasn’t answered me since noon.
Elias:
I’m on shift. Can’t swing by yet.
My chest tightens, feeling a bit guilty for not thinking of them earlier. They've been panicking while we've been sleeping.
Jax:
Don’t freak out. Sunshine is sleeping in my bed. She’s fine. Do NOT blow up her phone when she wakes up. She needs the rest
Jax:
If either of you wake her up I will personally hide your shoes before every shift for the rest of your natural lives
Theo replies first.
Theo:
What do you mean “fine?”
Jax: