20. Jax
JAX
“Say my name, Myles,” I repeat.
He wets his bottom lip with his tongue and shakes his head again.
I step closer so I’m almost out of the shadows. “Say my name.”
His throat works as he swallows hard, then those pink lips part again. “Jax.”
A strange feeling washes over me at the mix of hope and hesitation in his whispered word, and awareness prickles under my skin at hearing him say my name for the first time. Dark possession tightens my chest as he blinks at me with wide, innocent eyes.
I slowly step out of the shadows and push my hood back.
His eyes widen, and two spots of color appear on his cheekbones as our gazes lock.
“You…you can’t be,” he whispers, still staring at me like he’s expecting me to disappear at any second.
“I can’t be…?” I press when his throat bobs with another hard swallow.
“You.”
“I can’t be me?” I raise one eyebrow at him in what I hope is a teasing look.
He’s so frazzled right now I half expect him to run screaming from his room.
“No,” he says, some of his shock melting away. “You’re Jax Hawthorne,” he adds incredulously. “You’re not just Silvercrest royalty. You’re also a Rebel and literally the hottest human I’ve ever seen.”
I smile at how sincere he looks. “Wow, I sound pretty awesome.”
He folds his lips into a tight line and shoots me an unimpressed look. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean that when it comes to the hierarchy of life here, you’re in the one percent, and I’m in the bottom ninety-five.”
“You don’t think you’re up in the one percent?”
His laugh is loud and unrestrained, and he finally relaxes as he pushes his damp hair off his forehead.
“Not in any universe. You’re a ten. I’m a solid three who can sometimes pass for a four,” he says in a rush.
“You have a million friends, you and your cousins are campus royalty, and you’re a Rebel .
” He shakes his head. “I’m a first gen who has two online friends, none in my real life, and I believe in socialism and wealth redistribution and landback movements.
We might live in the same world, but we’re worlds apart. ”
“Do you really believe that?”
He shoots me a confused look. “I mean, yeah. It’s all fact.”
“None of it is fact.” I step closer to him.
His breath catches, then he opens his mouth like he’s going to argue with me.
I press my lips against his and cut him off.
He gasps against the kiss but doesn’t pull away as I slot our mouths together. It takes a few seconds for him to respond, but when he does, his kiss is soft and hesitant, and that makes the moment so much sweeter as I kiss him with as much tenderness as I can.
A soft moan falls from his lips, and an answering one falls from mine when he places shaking hands on my waist and squeezes me through the layers of my clothes.
Keeping my kisses light and exploratory, I cup his face and gently stroke my thumbs over his cheeks. His skin is soft, and the rasp of his stubble against my fingers is as hot as I thought it would be.
Then, he takes the initiative and deepens our kisses with a soft stroke of his tongue against mine.
One of his hands slips under the back of my sweater and slides along my t-shirt.
I pull myself up to my full height and force him to tilt his head back so I can take control of the kiss.
His whimper is loud and desperate, and I fight the urge to pin him to the nearest wall so I can devour his mouth and make him mine the way my body is screaming at me to.
Until Myles, I never understood the appeal of kissing, and it was nothing more than a facet of foreplay that people expected me to do. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t enjoy it and didn’t really see the point of it.
But now that I have Myles against me, and under me, I don’t want to stop kissing him. I want to devour him, own him, and brand him from the inside so he knows exactly who he belongs to.
But not yet. That’s not what this is about.
Reining in my arousal, I slow our kisses until they’re nothing more than soft nips and teasing pecks. When I finally pull away, Myles’s eyes stay closed for a few beats before fluttering open.
I smile as he blinks up at me with dazed and glassy eyes. The usual soft green is as bright as an emerald, and his lips are already pink and kiss-swollen. He looks utterly wrecked, and it’s all because of me.
“Wow,” he says in a breathy voice that makes my already hard dick pulse and throb. “That was…wow.”
“Yeah.” I press a soft kiss against his jaw, then another on his neck just under it. “It was.”
He draws in a shuddering breath, then lets out a low moan when I give the tender skin over his pulse point a teasing bite.
“I don’t understand,” he says dazedly when I pull back.
“What don’t you understand?”
“You gave me all the clues to figure out who you are. The cabin, the question about the flaw in my code. Those weren’t an accident.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not an accident.”
“But why?”
“Why would I give you clues about who I am?”
He nods.
“Because I wanted you to figure it out.”
The corners of his lips lift in a smile. “Yeah?”
I nod and gently run my thumb along his bottom lip.
“All that stuff you said before about hierarchy and how we’re worlds apart. Do you really believe that?” I rest my thumb against his cheek, but don’t let go of my hold on him.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” I put my lips next to his ear. “None of it is true.”
He blinks up at me when I pull back.
“But—”
I silence him with a kiss.
“I’m not going to lie to you and pretend I don’t have privilege at this school because I do. But the difference between me and the other assholes in my position is that I don’t give a shit about any of this. You say I have a million friends, but I only have three, and they’re all related to me.”
Gently, I trace my thumb over the skin just under his lower lip.
“It’s true I’m a Rebel, but that’s only because my family has been part of it since its founding. Being a member of the frat gives me advantages, I don’t deny that, but I only joined because it was expected of me.”
He lets out the softest sigh when I trace my thumb over his top lip.
“I don’t see a three or four or even a ten when I look at you.
” I press my thumb against the center of his lips to silence his protests.
“I don’t rate you against some arbitrary scale of what I’m supposed to want, and I don’t compare you to others so I can decide what I think of you.
Do you know why I don’t do any of that?” I pull my thumb from his lips and swipe the pad over his cheekbone.
He shakes his head.
I lean in until our lips are almost touching.
“Because you’re beyond comparison. Because when I look at you, I see the only person who’s ever interested me.
I think you’re gorgeous, but your looks are just window dressing.
It’s who you are that makes me want to claim you as mine, and I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks about me or my choices, because they mean nothing to me. ”
“But—”
I press my thumb to his lips again. “None of this means anything to me. I play the part and do what I’m supposed to because it’s easy, and I don’t care enough to push back because I’ve been able to find moments where I can shed the facade and just be myself.
My cousins and brother know the real me, and they accept me.
They give me the space I need to be myself so I can play along in a world I don’t care about, beyond protecting those who are mine.
The only other person who’s ever done that for me is you.
Do you really think I’d give that up because of trivial shit like societal expectations or social hierarchy? ”
Slowly, he shakes his head, and I can see some of his doubt melting away as he leans into my touch like a needy kitten.
“You’re mine, Myles,” I tell him. “And I dare anyone to try and change my mind because I guarantee it won’t end well for them.”
He gives me another wide smile. “I am?”
I press another kiss against his lips. “Yes.”
“Does that mean you’re also mine?” He slips his hands under my sweater and rubs them over my sides.
“Yes.” I slide my hand from where I’m still cupping his cheek into his hair and grip the strands tight.
He gasps and lets me pull his head back and expose his throat.
“I still can’t believe any of this is happening,” he murmurs.
“Believe it, because it is.” Leaning in, I drop a line of kisses down the column of his throat.
He splays his hands over my back and pulls me so our bodies are flush and his hard dick is pressing into my thigh.
“So this isn’t just a tonight thing?” he asks breathlessly and tilts his head to the side, giving me better access.
“No. Not just tonight.” I say between kisses as I move back up his throat and toward his mouth.
He starts to say something else, but I cut him off with a deep kiss. He responds with a loud moan and immediately opens for me, then moans again when I tangle our tongues together and finally kiss him the way I’ve wanted to since he first walked into his room after his shower.
He whimpers and sighs as I ravage his mouth and hold him in place so he has no choice but to take everything I give him.
I love how easily he trusts me, especially when he has every reason to be terrified of me, and how he’s never once held back.
When I finally break the kiss, he doesn’t let me move more than an inch away before he hooks his hand around the back of my neck and yanks me back for more.
His kisses are deep and bruising and so damn possessive they make something in my brain short-circuit. I always knew Myles had this side in him, and his overt eagerness is just as much of a turn-on as when he’s submissive and shy.