27. Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Deep down, I know she didn’t mean it the way I’m taking it, but I know what she’s saying is true. She would have run and told me the second she started seeing someone—yet I hid it. From everyone close to me.
When everyone’s finally gone and the house is quiet, it’s just me and Jax, alone in the kitchen. I’m leaning against the counter, watching him pour the last of the wine into a glass before setting the now-empty bottle in the sink.
“Is that the end of it?” I ask, eyeing the bottle with a raised brow.
He walks over slowly, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him.
“Pretty sure,” he says, handing me the glass. “People weren’t exactly shy with their pours tonight,” he says with a soft laugh.
“Well, yeah, welcome to America. We don’t do small pours here.” I laugh, too, holding up the glass to further prove my point. “This isn’t even close to enough alcohol.”
He steps closer, and I can feel the air shift between us while the hair on my arms stand. Then his hand comes up, and the backs of his fingers barely skim along my jaw. It’s such a light touch, but it makes my breath hitch anyway.
“I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about America,” he says quietly, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes my stomach do a full-on somersault.
Suddenly, it’s way too warm in here, and my mouth is dry. I run my tongue along my bottom lip, catching the faint taste of wine still lingering there.
“Yeah… I guess so.” I breathe.
He gently takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the counter beside me. Then his hands land on either side of my hips, caging me in. He leans in, close enough that we’re practically nose to nose.
“There might be a few other things I’ll need to learn too,” he says, his gaze locked on mine.
The look in his eyes alone sends heat pulsing through me. And that ache in my stomach? Yeah, it’s not going anywhere.
My eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up to his.
He reaches over slowly, sliding his hand along the countertop until he picks up the wine glass by the stem. He takes a small sip, his eyes still locked on mine, then sets it down again, just as slowly.
“Are we sharing now?” I ask with a soft laugh, trying to play it cool even though my heart’s doing double time.
His eyebrows lift, then he tilts his head slightly. “We could share… if you want,” he whispers, and the words send a jolt straight down my spine.
He doesn’t look away while he picks up the glass again, brings it to his lips, and takes a slow sip. He holds the wine in his mouth, then he leans in, close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off him.
He’s just inches from me, one brow raised like he’s asking a silent question.
My stomach drops like I’ve just hit the first big drop on a roller coaster.
All the things I told myself I’d never do—the lines I swore I wouldn’t cross—and here I am. Ready to throw them all out the window. For him? I’d do just about anything.
I nod slowly, my breath catching while his mouth curves into a slow smirk. Then he crooks a finger, motioning me closer.
His hand comes up to cradle my chin, fingers resting lightly along my jaw. His eyes hold mine while he gently pinches my cheeks, steadying me.
The touch is soft yet firm, and he patiently waits for permission. Permission to do what I can’t believe I’m about to let him do.
I give him a small nod, and he immediately leans closer until his handsome face is just above mine. Close enough that I can smell the wine on his breath in the small space between us. It feels like forever, like time has slowed to a crawl, before I finally, part my lips.
Then he opens his mouth, and the wine spills onto my tongue in a slow stream. I watch his eyes twist with desire while his gaze stays on me, watching me swallow it down.
My chest heaves, and my hands instinctively fly for the collar of his flannel, pulling him into me as our lips crash together. The taste of spearmint and fruit drowns my taste buds.
Every time we’ve been together, it’s been sweet, slow, like we’re afraid of breaking each other.
But right now?
Right now, I want him to break me.
My hands quickly travel down his body, going straight for his belt buckle.
I rip it off him and toss it to the floor with a clatter.
He thankfully takes the hint and lifts my ass slightly off the counter, just enough to swipe my panties down my legs in one swift motion until they’re dangling off my ankle.
Pulling me closer, he keeps his hands wedged between the counter and my ass, like a cushion, before he thrusts inside me without warning.
The force nearly knocks the wind out of my lungs as I let out a scream, unable to contain the rush of pleasure.
I open my legs wider, making sure he has plenty of room to reach as deep as he can, and I’m treated to a hungry groan.He buries his face in my neck, sucking the skin in between his teeth, causing me to cry out.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos in my ear. The gruffness in his voice almost sends me over the edge, and I can feel myself clamp tightly around him.
He picks up the pace, pushing deeper inside me, and I start feeling him shudder like he’s holding back, waiting for me.
I slip my hand between my legs, circling my index finger against my clit while my hips buck against him.
My stomach clenches tighter at the sound of his breathy moan in my ear, and that’s all it takes. Then, without warning, my orgasm shatters through me.
“Oh god!” I scream.
“That’s it, love,” he praises in my ear, slamming harder into me.
Then his movements slow, and his shoulders shudder.
He leans in, resting his forehead gently against mine, and lets out a low chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, still breathing hard.
He laughs again, this time a little louder. “Just thinking about how we went from meeting in a wine aisle to basically fucking with wine.”
“It’s funny how life works,” I agree, still too weak to say much more.
He helps me down from the counter, his arms wrapping around my waist. “I’ll run you a shower,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.
“You don’t have to do that,” I reply softly.
“Yes, I do. Let me take care of you,” he says, leaving no room for me to argue.
I smile, then lean in and press my lips against his.
I love his gentleness. The way he always wants to take care of me, how he always shows it without hesitation—in everything he does, not just in words. He never waits to be asked. Never holds back.
It hurts to think someone could mistreat a heart like his. But maybe that’s why I want to protect it so much now. Maybe that’s why I’m letting my own heart fall into his hands without a second thought.
We’ve both been through hell with the people we trusted. But this? This feels different.
This feels like we got it right this time. Like we belong to each other in a way no one else could ever understand.
Even knowing all of this? It still scares the hell out of me. Just not enough to make me want to run.
Not anymore.