Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Kira
Before I even open my eyes, dread knots my stomach—the day before being the first thing that registers in my mind.
The cops. Layton. My truck. But when I realize my arms are fuller than when I fell asleep, and that the body beneath me is warmer and larger, a calm spreads through me.
The masculine scent of leather and soap envelops me.
Jax.
Sometime in my sleep, Nix must have slipped away, and he took her place.
And apparently, I didn’t hesitate to latch onto him.
I peek my eyes open to find that I’ve practically crawled onto him and that I’m clutching my hands around his neck.
I have a leg slung up over his midsection, and a cheek nuzzled against his chest.
I’ve koala’d him.
Embarrassment runs rampant until I remember that I’m going to jail, and this might be the last time I ever get to touch him, or anyone, for a long time. In defiance, I burrow deeper into him, wishing I could sink inside him and hide. His touch suddenly slides up my back in a comforting graze.
“You haven’t been asleep, have you?” I ask.
His voice is rough when he speaks, and the response rumbles against my cheek. “I haven’t slept since I met you.”
My throat tightens. I’ve been nothing but trouble for him, and while that would have amused me a few days ago, now the idea of being a burden on him, when he already deals with so much, cleaves me in two.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“I wasn’t complaining.”
I manage a weak smile and tilt my head to look up at him.
“For all my lack of sleep,” he says, gathering my hair to one side of my shoulder, “I’ve never been so alive.”
I snort and put my head back down. God, he’s cheesy.
“I’m serious.” His fingers hook under my chin and tilt my face back up until I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
“You should know… I think I was half-dead before you, just going through the motions. But then you,” his eyes flare darkly, “you woke me up. You make me feel everything I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. Rage, fear, hope… love.”
My cheeks heat at his admission, and I lower my chin, letting my lashes shield me.
It’s not that I don’t like it, I just… I don’t know what to do with it.
Acknowledging it feels too big, too delicate.
My instinct is to crawl out of my own skin and flinch away from the confession.
I was never taught how to be soft. Nix and I rarely put our feelings into words because being vulnerable was a luxury we didn’t have.
He releases a slow, disappointed breath. “Are we still doing this?”
I know what he’s asking—am I still pretending this isn’t consuming me, still pretending I can hold back what’s already too far gone? But even if I wanted to, I can’t afford to hold him at arm’s length anymore. My time is running out.
“No,” I surrender.
“Then tell me you love me.” He grips the thigh I have draped over him and pulls me farther so I’m straddling him.
I gasp at the way he handles me, catching myself with my hands against his chest. The hard plane is steady, and I push myself up to meet his eyes. “I…”
He growls and grinds himself against me, the firm shaft of him pressing right against my center. “Say it.” He grasps my hips, locking me into place.
A moan escapes me at the feel of him, and I arch into it, suddenly throbbing. “God, you’re big,” I say.
His expression tightens, patience fraying. “Kira.”
I lift my shirt over my head, letting my nipples peak against the air before bringing myself over him, running my hands up his shirt so I can press myself against his chest. His skin is hot against my breasts, and I kiss his neck, loving the way he tastes, needing this release.
“Kira.” His cock pulsates beneath me, but he doesn’t make a move to take me.
“Hm?” I muse as I roll my hips and run my hands up and down his body.
His muscles are rigid, his whole body taut with tension, and he begins to shake as I slip a hand between us, under the rim of his pants.
“Please,” he grits, muscles rippling as his fingers dig into my flesh. “Put me out of my misery.”
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” I breathe, throwing his words from the last time we went at it back at him.
“I want—” He suddenly groans as I palm his cock, thick and hot in my hand, and I stroke him slowly, enjoying the way his head tilts back and his breath turns ragged.
“Don’t stop now.” I bat my lashes at him. “You were doing so well.” I quote him as I stroke him, enjoying the way his eyes roll back and his body shudders.
But then his hand viciously clamps around the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
His pupils are blown, ravenous as he pins me in their depths.
I lick my lips, and his gaze snaps to the movement.
Without warning, he crushes his mouth against mine, kissing me so deeply that my body melts against his.
His tongue slides against mine, demanding and intoxicating, and I respond instinctively, molding to him—tasting, drowning, breathing him.
His hands roam, locking around my back, pulling me impossibly closer, and the pulsing between us thrums with heat. My fingers dig into his chest, memorizing the tension of his muscles and the strength he harbors.
“Kira…” he groans, breaking the kiss just enough to brush his forehead against mine. His voice is rough and filled with need. “Say it. Please. If you feel it, say it.”
I bite my lip, head swimming as I catch my breath. Every part of me screams that I do, my body is literally melded to his in submission, but he wants words, and try as I might, my throat closes up before I can speak.
“Look at me,” he demands and forces my chin up. “Look at me and hear me when I say, I love you, Kira Noland. If you don’t feel the same, if you just want to fuck me, I’m yours to use. But if you do, if you love me, I need to hear you say it.”
Something in me shatters, the cage that I keep the most vulnerable parts of myself locked away in, and I know if I don’t give him this, I’ll only be hurting myself.
“I love you,” I breathe.
His entire body stills for a heartbeat, and then a low, animalistic sound rumbles from his chest. His hands cup my face, holding me tight, and he crushes his mouth to mine again, this time deeper, like he’s sealing the words against my lips.
My hands clutch at him as he drives us closer, every movement urgent and claiming. He rolls us, pinning me beneath him, and I arch against him, feeling the press of him, the heat, the release of the monster I’ve created.
“Again,” he demands.
“I love you,” I whisper, panting as he discards my shorts, eager to let him feel the entirety of my surrender.
His lips find my neck, trailing with a wildness I haven’t seen in him before as he undoes his zipper. He nips at my neck, my collarbone, my chest, and every touch burns me alive. My body arches, seeking and clinging and desperate, and he doesn’t hesitate to push inside me.
I let out a gasp of ecstasy as he fills me, stretching me around him. He groans and shudders as he buries himself to the hilt, but the way he slides out is slow and agonizing.
“Jax…” I whimper his name, digging my nails into his shoulders and rising up to meet him, needing every inch, needing him to know he has me completely.
His lips capture mine in a searing kiss, teeth and tongue claiming, sliding against mine as he moves with deliberate force. Every thrust, every grind, drives me higher until my vision blurs, my chest heaves, my mind screams in pleasure.
His hand grips my hip and he guides me up and down until the tension coils low in my belly and my desperation climbs until I’m clawing at him. His pace picks up, punishing and punctuated by fierce thrusts. I’m on the edge with every press of him against my clit until I’m calling out for mercy.
“Please,” I moan. “Please.”
“Again,” he pants.
“I love you.” I give him what he wants even though the words come out more of a plea.
He groans and his body tenses. “Take yours, baby.”
And I do. I wrap my legs around him and grind until I come undone. He spills into me in tandem, filling me up with pulses and twitches that match my rolling peak.
We slump against the sheets, the air humming with the aftershocks of us, and I realize I can’t remember ever feeling so safe and satiated. My heart hammers against my ribs in rhythm with his, and I try to memorize how it feels—this perfect moment with Jax’s body against mine.
Because come tomorrow, the memory will be all I have.