Chapter 2
Jaxon
The second Ruby says yes, it hits me low and hard, like a fist made of heat and hunger.
She tries to play it cool, taking another sip of her drink, but her fingers shake the tiniest bit. I see it. I see everything: the pulse in her throat, the way her breath stutters, and the way she keeps glancing at my mouth like she’s already imagining it on her skin.
She’s beautiful, curvy, slightly chaotic, and trying so damn hard not to show how much she wants this.
“I should warn you,” she says softly, trying to recover her attitude. “I’m not usually… impulsive.”
I lean in, close enough to inhale her perfume. It’s sweet, warm, and something I’ll be thinking about for days. “Then tonight is a good night to start.”
Her breath catches. “You’re very confident.”
“I’m very certain.” I let my gaze travel down her neckline, taking my time. “And I don’t want to pretend I’m not.”
She swallows hard, pressing her thighs together. She thinks she’s being discreet. She’s not.
I rest my hand lightly on the back of her chair, not touching her yet, just claiming the space around her. “If you want to change your mind, tell me now.”
She hesitates for half a heartbeat.
Then she whispers, “I’m not changing my mind.”
Good girl.
I stand and offer my hand. She places her palm in mine, nervous and excited at the same time, like she’s stepping out of her old life and into something that’s going to ruin her in all the right ways.
Her skin is warm, soft, and tempting.
“Come with me,” I say.
Her pupils dilate, and she nods. “Okay.”
We walk out of the bar together, her hand trembling inside mine. The lobby is quiet, the low lighting giving everything a golden glow. I hit the elevator button, and she keeps her eyes fixed forward, chewing lightly on her lip like she’s rethinking every decision she’s ever made.
“Second thoughts?” I ask gently.
“No,” she says, a little too fast.
I don’t push, I don’t need to; she’s here with me now, she’s mine for the night. That’s all I want right now.
The elevator doors slide open, and I guide her inside. The moment they close, the air changes. It thickens and pulls tight around us.
She steps back against the wall like she needs space to breathe.
I step forward because I want the opposite.
“Ruby,” I say, touching her chin lightly so she looks up at me.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to kiss you.” I let the words hang there, low and certain. “Unless you tell me to stop.”
She exhales slowly, like her lungs are struggling to keep up with her pulse. “I… I don’t want you to stop.”
That’s all I need.
I take her face in both hands and kiss her, deep and hungry, like I’ve waited months instead of minutes. She melts against me instantly, grabbing my shirt, clinging like she doesn’t trust her legs to hold her up.
The kiss is hot from the start; no warm-up, no hesitation. Just the two of us crashing into each other in the most addictive way. Her mouth opens under mine, soft and sweet, and I taste vodka, heat, and something uniquely her.
She moans softly when my tongue strokes hers.
That sound? I want more of it. I want every version of it.
Her hands slide up my chest, then my shoulders, then the back of my neck, tugging me closer like she wants the kiss deeper. Filthier.
She gets it.
I press her against the elevator wall, sliding my knee between her thighs. Her breath shatters. She tilts her hips, grinding against me without meaning to.
“Careful,” I murmur against her lips. “You’ll make me think you’re desperate.”
She gives a breathless laugh. “I’m not desperate.”
I trail a slow kiss along her jaw, then down her throat. “Then what are you?”
She shivers as my mouth reaches the spot just below her ear. “Curious.”
“Good.” I nip gently at her skin. “Curiosity, I can work with.”
The elevator dings softly, like it’s apologizing for interrupting.
I take her hand again. “This is me asking you one last time, come upstairs with me.”
Ruby looks up at me with flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and eyes that give her away completely.
“Yes,” she whispers.
I walk her down the hall to my suite. Unlock the door and guide her inside.
The moment we’re alone, I push the door shut behind us and press her against it, kissing her like the world outside doesn’t exist. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back just as urgently.
She wants this. She wants me. And fuck, I want her just as badly.
I slide my hands down her waist, then over her hips, pulling her body against mine so she feels exactly what she does to me.
She gasps softly. “God, you’re…”
“Hard for you?” I press another kiss under her ear. “That’s what happens when you kiss me like that in an elevator.”
Her fingers dig into my shoulders. “This is insane.”
“Maybe.” I lift her chin with my thumb. “But it feels right.”
She doesn’t argue. She doesn’t pull away. She leans in and kisses me again, desperate and hungry and perfect.
Tonight, she’s mine. Every soft sound. Every shiver. Every kiss she gives, like she’s afraid I’ll stop.
And I’m nowhere near done with her.
Not tonight. Not after this. Not after the way she looks at me like she feels this thing too.
I lift her from the floor. Her legs wrap around my waist instantly, instinctively, like her body’s been waiting to do that all along.
Her voice is a soft, breathy whisper against my mouth.
“Take me to the bed.”
I grin. “With pleasure.”
Because if I get my way, and I always do, this won’t just be one night.
Not for me. Not after this.
I carry her through the suite, her body light and warm against mine, and her legs locked tight around my waist. The king-sized bed waits in the center of the room, the sheets crisp and inviting under the low glow of the bedside lamp.
I lower her onto the mattress, but she doesn't let go, pulling me down with her.
Our mouths crash together again, our tongues sliding hot and wet.
My hands roam up her thighs, pushing her dress higher until I feel the lace of her panties.
She's soaked through them already, and the discovery makes my cock throb harder in my pants.
“Fuck, Ruby,” I murmur against her lips, grinding my hips into hers so she feels the full length of my erection pressing against her core. She moans, arching up to meet me, her nails scraping down my back.
I pull back just enough to yank her dress over her head, tossing it aside.
Her bra matches the panties; black lace that hugs her full breasts.
I unhook it with one hand, freeing them, and take a nipple into my mouth.
I suck hard, my tongue flicking over the peak until it stiffens under my attention.
She gasps, her fingers threading into my hair, holding me there.
“Jaxon... yes…” Her voice is breathy, needy. I switch to the other breast, biting gently while my hand slips between her legs. I rub her through the fabric, feeling her clit swell under my fingers. She bucks against my palm, whimpering.
I slide the panties down her legs, exposing her completely.
Her pussy is bare, and glistening with arousal, pink and ready.
I spread her thighs wide, settling between them, and lean in to taste her.
My tongue drags flat up her slit, lapping at her juices before circling her clit.
She cries out, her hips jerking as I suck it into my mouth, two fingers pushing inside her tight heat.
She's dripping wet, clenching around my fingers as I pump them in and out, curling to hit that spot that makes her shake.
“Oh god, don't stop,” she pants, grinding against my face.
I add a third finger, stretching her, while my tongue works faster.
Her thighs tremble around my head, and I feel her building, body tensing.
“Come for me, Ruby,” I growl, the words vibrating against her. She shatters, her pussy pulsing around my fingers, a flood of her release coating my hand. I lick her through it, drawing out every spasm until she's limp and gasping.
I strip off my shirt and pants, kicking them away.
My cock springs free, thick and hard, pre-cum beading at the tip.
Her eyes widen, her hand reaching for it.
She strokes me from base to head, her thumb smearing the slickness over the sensitive underside.
“I want this inside me,” she says, her voice husky.
I grab a condom from the nightstand, rolling it on quickly. Positioning myself at her entrance, I push in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face as she takes me. She's tight, so fucking tight, her walls gripping my cock like a vice. Halfway in, she wraps her legs around me again, urging me deeper.
“All of it,” she demands, and I thrust the rest of the way, bottoming out. We both groan at the fullness. I hold still for a second, letting her adjust, then start moving; long, deep strokes that make her breasts bounce with each one.
She meets every thrust, her nails digging into my ass, pulling me harder. “Faster,” she begs, and I oblige, pounding into her, the bed creaking under us. Sweat slicks our skin, the room filling with the wet slap of bodies and her moans.
I flip us over so she's on top, hands on my chest as she rides me. She rolls her hips, grinding her clit against my pelvis, chasing her next release. I reach up, pinching her nipples, making her gasp and clench around my cock.
“You're so deep like this,” she whimpers, her pace quickening. I thrust up to meet her, one hand sliding down to rub her clit. That's all it takes; she comes again, her head thrown back, and her pussy milking me in rhythmic waves.
The sight pushes me over the edge. I grip her hips, slamming up hard as I come, filling the condom with hot spurts. We ride it out together, her collapsing onto my chest, and both of us breathing ragged.
But I'm not done. Not even close. I roll her onto her back again, kissing her slowly and deeply. “Round two?” I ask, already hardening inside her.
She smiles, wicked and wanting.”'Hell yes.”
I wake up slowly, with the kind of satisfaction that hits deep in the muscles first. The sheets are warm. My body feels loose, like someone stripped me down and rebuilt me in the best way possible.
Her.
The memory flashes hot and vivid, the way she kissed me like she wanted to devour me, the way she gasped when I touched her, the way she said my name like it was something she’d been waiting her whole life to taste.
I keep my eyes closed for a moment, letting the night replay in pieces.
Her laugh. Her mouth. Her hands on my shoulders, pulling me down again and again.
I haven’t felt that alive in years. I reach across the bed, already knowing what I’m going to find… and hoping I’m wrong.
Cold sheets.
An empty space.
No Ruby.
My eyes open immediately. The room is quiet, still, and too clean. Her dress is gone from the floor, her shoes too. And the lipstick she left on the nightstand, it’s all gone. Everything except her scent.
The faint sweetness of it lingers in the air, teasing me with what I had and what I stupidly allowed to slip through my fingers. She left. She walked out while I was asleep.
No note. No number. Nothing.
For a moment, I just stare at the empty pillow beside me, my jaw tightening in slow, deliberate increments.
She thinks this is over.
She thinks one night with me is forgettable.
She thinks she can walk out, vanish into the city, and I’ll move on?
Not a chance.
I sit up, running a hand through my hair, trying to scrub away the shock. I don’t get rattled easily. Women come and go, I’ve never cared, and I’ve never wanted more than a night, or a distraction, or a release.
But Ruby?
Ruby hit me like an impact trauma. Sweet. Sharp. Perfect. And now she’s gone.
I stand and walk to the window, staring out at the skyline while the truth burns into place.
I want her again. I want her under me, over me, around me. I want her laugh, her mouth, her smart mouth even more, because she pushed back in a way most women never dare. I want to learn every expression she makes when she comes. I want to know the exact moment her attitude melts into need.
One night wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close.
My gaze snags on something near the minibar. A bar napkin, folded neatly, the bartender must have left it there.
I pick it up, and her lipstick is on it. There’s a single kiss-shaped stain, bright red, and mocking me.
I clench the napkin in my hand. If she thinks she can disappear, she doesn’t know me at all.
I find what I want. I keep what I want. And last night proved something I didn’t expect:
Ruby isn’t a distraction. She’s a problem.
A delicious, addictive, need-under-my-skin kind of problem.
And now that she’s walked away? Now I’m going to make damn sure she can’t.
Not when I’m this certain. Not when my body is still craving her.
Not when the memory of her moan is still echoing through me.
She thinks last night was a mistake.
I think last night was the beginning.
And the next time I see her? There won’t be a door she can slip through. There won’t be a chance to run. I’m done thinking in maybes.
I want her.
And I always get what I want.