One
Savage
noun
a brutal or savage person
Eleven Years Later
The thud of the fist against my bedroom door was impatient and aggressive. In no rush to answer, I plodded across the floor of my room, instantly knowing who it was: Jaxon, my stepbrother from hell. Any hopes I’d harboured for having a good day suddenly plummeted.
“Yes?” I replied with a pitch that was surely dogs-only high.
“It’s me. Open up,” he boomed, in that abrupt voice of his. He was a soldier and used to barking orders. Well, this wasn’t the bloody army; this was my home too, and Jaxon Savage could do one!
My mother and I had moved into the Savages' luxurious residence a couple of years ago. And it blew; I still wasn’t used to sharing a house with two older stepbrothers, (a part-time stepsister, but I’ll come to that later) and a step-father. Life living with my gran had been much more straightforward (with the bonus of zero boy smells).
“Today Wynter,” I hated the way he said my name, but it still gave me goosebumps.
“I’m not decent,” I barked back in a haughty voice.
“Like I give a shit.”
I lifted my robe from where it was hanging on the back of the door and slid my arms into the sleeves. I took my sweet time, of course .
Silently counting to five, I straightened my PJs and briefly checked my face in the mirror. As usual, not being a morning person, I looked like shit.
“Open the fucking door, or I will,” he snapped irritably. Jaxon did not like to be kept waiting.
Huffing, I did as I was told and scowled through the gap, annoyed that he'd caught me unawares. My hair was mussed from sleep and flopped about my shoulders in straggly waves. Knowing my luck, I probably had death breath and sleep crust in my eyes too.
Of course, being shrewd, Jaxon picked up that I wasn’t at my best immediately. “Fuck me; you’re certainly not a morning person, are you? You look like someone fed you after midnight.”
Cheeky git. He gave me his signature what the hell happened to you look.
I focused on the object of my disdain. Of course, Jaxon looked good enough to eat. Tall and broad-shouldered, he stood on the landing outside my door with his massive arms crossed over his chest, glaring down at me with brooding intensity. That look was permanently stitched onto his beautiful, yet masculine face.
Now what had I done? I attempted to avert my eyes from those distracting biceps of his.
“Can I help you?” I questioned, looking up at his perfectly sculptured features. By Jove, he was fit. Why, oh, why couldn’t he have been ugly? Ugly was so much easier to live with. Cohabiting with a boy who was sex-on-legs made me irrationally nervous.
I rubbed my tired eyes, staring at him wearily. I hated the fact that he was so pristine at such an ungodly hour. Jaxon was a military man and used to rising at the crack of dawn. He had probably already made his bed and bounced a bloody coin off it. Just like those drill sergeants did in those war movies my dad used to watch. At the thought of my father, I felt a wave of discomfort .
Jaxon looked me up and down before tilting his head and attempting to see behind me into my room. I reduced the crack in the door. Nothing was worse than a nosey parker, especially one who came calling at seven in the fricking morning. It was Sunday, for pity’s sake, God’s Day. Was a lay-in at the weekend too much to ask? The sun wasn’t even fully awake yet.
The boy was like a machine. with a set routine that I had always thought was the other side of sane. No wonder he was such a grumpy fucker all the time. Although, as usual, he was bright as a button, not a hint of sleep deprivation was showing on that sinfully good-looking face of his. Typical.
“Well?” I prompted in my best snooty voice. This encouraged him to arch an eyebrow as he continued to glare down at me from his lofty position. My stepbrother was well over six feet tall and in his prime for a twenty-four-year-old man. He was a Physical Training Corps Instructor for the military, so he had to be in tip-top condition.
Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t one of those guys who were all muscle and nothing else; he was shrewd and intelligent and full of lethal charm.
Everything about him was large and overstated as he towered over me. His tanned skin glowed with health. I was small and thin and dull in comparison; in a bright light, you could just make out the veins beneath my pale complexion. They used to call me Snow White at school. Jaxon looked like a bronzed gladiator. Yes, he was infuriating but he was also downright intoxicating. Fit as fuck.
“If your shithead of a boyfriend uses my razor again, I’ll break his fingers,” Jaxon huffed grumpily. Talk about Mood Swing City.
Here we go again. Jaxon had a huge problem with Dominic. And to think my boyfriend had attempted to play nice at first, possibly over-egging it.
“If I had a good side, that’s not the way to get on it,” he commented. At last, something we could agree on .
As he had demonstrated many times before, there was no good in Jaxon Savage, he was mean to the bone. What can I say? He lived up to his surname in spades.
“Fine, duly noted, I’ll have a word,” I replied with a sigh, adopting a fake accommodating tone.
“I mean it Wynter, he touches my shit again, he dies.”
As usual, Jaxon saw right through me, and that square jaw of his was clenched. He was so astute; he had sussed out all my fears and aspirations from day one. Again, as he articulated my name, I got the shivers. I rubbed my arms to eradicate that tingly feeling.
It was way too early to lock horns with this person, especially when I could tell he was spoiling for a fight. This stepbrother got off on conflict; it was an addiction for him—a drug. Usually, I instantly took the bait, but today I was so tired, I ached. Attempting to write a newspaper article until three in the morning does that to a person.
Jaxon’s eyes were a steely grey, but just then they looked like a cloudy sky with a hint of blue.
“Is he in there now? I can deliver the message in person if you’d prefer. Cut out the middle man,” he grunted, attempting to see past me again.
“No thanks. I promise to pass the message on,” I said as I went to close the door. Annoyance flickered over his face, and I banged my elbow as he shoved his booted foot against the wood, stopping me from closing it.
My nose wrinkled. His actions pissed me off, and I loosened my death grip and pursed my lips.
“How do you know it was Dominic, anyway?” I asked, attempting to look superior.
Jaxon cocked his brow. “The bristles, brainiac,” he sneered. My stepbrother had a point as Dominic was a redhead and Jaxon’s hair was as black as mine, but his locks gleamed , not dissimilar to a blackbird’s feathers. My hair, well, that was another story. Too long, too thick, and currently resembling a bird's nest, to put it bluntly.
It couldn’t have been my other stepbrother either as his hair was blonde.
Bearing in mind they were full brothers; they were opposites in appearance. Jaxon was tall, broad, and dark like their father. Christopher (aka Chris) was tall and slim with fair hair and pale skin. They did share the same grey eyes though. A feature they had inherited from their late mother, my mum had told me.
So, Dominic was again on Jaxon’s shit list, or should I call it Razorgate? Not out loud, of course, that would make fun of the situation and this man didn’t possess the healthiest sense of humour. Not where I was concerned anyway.
Talking about his shit list, my name was always on there, right at the top and underlined. In the eyes of this boy, I couldn’t do anything right.
I released my hold on the door and stepped back, folding my arms over my chest, and attempting to look in control. Jaxon watched the movement through narrowed eyes.
“If you’re doing that to try and make your tits look bigger, you’ve failed,” he jibed with insulting ease. “You don’t have to worry, anything bigger than a B is a waste.” It annoyed me that he knew my cup size and I blamed Daisy for leaving the laundry around.
God, part of me hated this boy. He had an insane fetish for torturing me. If there was anyone who could make you feel insecure in a heartbeat, it was Jaxon. He was heartless, mean, and moody and had no filter—a stain on mankind. He was also an arrogant git. And yes, I admitted to myself that there was that other part of me that fancied the pants off him, despite him being a cock. Such joy.
Jaxon’s comment made me drop my hands to my sides, and his lip quirked. He was amused that his rudeness had hit its intended target. But then I was easy to rile; this guy could upset me with his eyes closed. As far as I was concerned, my attempt at snappy comebacks fell on deaf ears. In the year or so that I had known him, I had yet to score a point with Jaxon. The shoe was never on the other foot; no one could exploit this man; he was like a rock. He had no vulnerabilities.
I silently squirmed on the spot before offering him a strained smile. “Are you done?” I sniffed, lifting a hand to push my wayward locks off my face. My cheeks had heated more at his tits comment and some of the strands were now sticking to my skin.
He flicked his head toward my body and asked, “Is that what you wear to bed? Not exactly the sexiest of outfits.” Jaxon then lowered his arms and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing my attention to his crotch. Not good.
I glanced down with a frown before darting my eyes back to his. Thankfully, I had pulled my robe on over my shorty pyjamas.
“It’s none of your business what I wear to bed, Jaxon,” I pointed out tersely. He took in my expression, displaying a large smile, his perfect white teeth flashing. It wasn’t a genuine smile of course.
Suddenly, my belly released a rumble; it was so loud that he heard it—just my luck.
“Fuck me, someone’s hungry. Why don’t you come downstairs and eat something? The anorexic look is a major turn-off,” Jaxon mocked, his eyes roaming over my body. He couldn’t be more insulting if he tried. The boy was devoid of manners.
My palms started to sweat. “I’m a perfect weight for my height, actually,” I corrected him moodily. I knew it was stupid of me, as Jaxon never lost an argument. Well, apart from when he was fighting with his father, something that had become a daily occurrence. I stayed out of the way, as I hated arguments. It brought back feelings from my past and made me want to hide.
“I’m surprised you don’t blow over in the wind. Not everything you eat needs to be green. You’re the epitome of the weak, pathetic female, Wynter.” That sexy voice of his rumbled out, making me swallow .
“I’m stronger than I look,” I informed him tartly.
He snorted, “Are you fucking kidding me? I could bench press your entire body weight.” Jaxon announced, rubbing his fingers over his lightly stubbled chin as he watched me with a thoughtful expression. “You should come to the base, or join me in the gym; I could help you build up some muscle tone,” he stated arrogantly, acting as though he were suddenly my knight in shining armour. Yeah, well, I was nobody's charity case.
I stared him dead in the eye and proclaimed dryly, “No thank you. That sounds like something nightmares are made of.”
His grin widened as he said, “Which part? Training or spending time with me?”
I ground my teeth together as that tension continued to flow between us. “Both,” I answered flatly. He was suddenly amused, that silver spooned mouth of his smiling. Talk about confusing. There was nothing straightforward about this boy at all. You couldn’t read what he was thinking from one moment to the next; his face was like a blank canvas.
Jaxon took a step back and inhaled. He could probably smell my fear. Thankfully my mother’s cooking filtered between us.
“I can smell bacon. I wonder if your mother managed to cook it without cremating it this time.”
My deluded mother, Daisy, reckoned that Jaxon was just a ‘complex’ person—more like downright fucking difficult. He could be such a nasty bastard, and his comment about her cooking pissed me off. I clenched my fists, my blood starting to boil.
“At least she’s trying , you—ungrateful pig,” I fired out, jamming my hands on my narrow hips.
Jaxon leaned forward. “Oh, I find her very trying,” he volleyed back dismissively, twisting my words .
My stepbrother’s gaze took in my stance, staring down at me as though I were a petulant child who refused to eat her breakfast.
“Pig? That’s not very sisterly. I was joking. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’re way too sensitive.” Was he bollocks joking. Jaxon disliked his latest step-mum as much as the ones that came before her.
I dropped my hands and asked, “Am I? Am I really ?” I snapped. My voice came out louder than I expected it to.
“Yes. You’re so uptight. You need to loosen up. I could help you with that too if you like?” Jaxon bragged with a suggestive wink.
My tummy flipped at his offer, but I managed to look disgusted and informed him in a starchy voice, “I don’t think so. Who knows what I might catch?” I always made out that I viewed Jaxon as a walking sexually transmitted disease as I knew it pissed him off; him being such a fitness freak.
His eyes creased further in amusement. “Oh, I’m clean, baby. You can count on that.” He then cocked his head to the side, regarding me as he stroked his thumb along his bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’d manage to get it up though. You’re such a tiny, insipid bit of fluff.”
Fluff , what the hell did that mean?
He hijacked my puzzled silence to get another word in, typical.
“I could make you cum though. way or another.”
Heat stung my cheeks. I hated it when he peddled the sexy shit as my lady parts instantly stood to attention. And of course, the tyrant noticed. “You blush like a schoolgirl,” he laughed with a smirk. “But you’d enjoy it, I promise you that.”
I managed to sound indifferent, “I’ll take your word for it, Jaxon.” Making me blush was one of Jaxon’s superpowers.
“I’m only saying that you need to loosen up and unwind. Sensational sex could help you with that. ”
I almost swallowed my tongue as I replied, “I don’t think so.” I attempted to sound unruffled but talking about sex with this boy did strange things to my insides.
He arched an eyebrow and even that was sexy. “I take it, you and the boyfriend aren’t at the screwing stage yet?
“That’s none of your business,” I bit back, feeling mortified by the sexual direction of our little chat.
Jaxon carried on as if he hadn’t heard me. “I can’t say I’m surprised; he has about as much charisma as a fucking crayon.” I found his words interesting considering Dominic had recently started to put the pressure on. We’d kissed and fumbled, but I just wasn’t ready to have sex yet.
I hated my body's involuntary reaction to Jaxon switching the conversation to my non-existent sex life. “You’ve said enough. I think we’re done now, Jaxon.”
My attempt to shut things down rattled him and he took a step forward, getting in my face. “I’ll say when we’re done, Wynter ,” he replied, overpronouncing my name on purpose.
His arrogant, threatening attitude pushed me over the edge and I drew my leg back and kicked his shin, hard . He grunted in shock and moved back a step.
The movement did two things, dislodged his foot from the door and bruised my toes. My eyes watered and I slammed the door closed.
I didn’t have a lock on my door so there was a chance Jaxon could just push his way in, but I didn’t think he’d do that. He’d never come into my room before. It was the only space in the house he respected. Anywhere else and he’d be there, infecting my personal space with his boy smell. Which was unfortunately quite nice.
Holding my breath, I pushed my back against the door, slowly sliding down the surface. As if I’d have any chance of stopping the tank from coming in if he wanted to .
A surge of relief snaked up my spine as Jaxon’s booted feet clunked against the landing floor as he walked away. His soft laughter gave me a ‘fingernails down the blackboard’ type of shiver. It wasn’t quite serial killer but it was up there. Air whooshed from my lungs as I realised that I’d gotten away with it. For now.
I drew in a sharp breath and stared into my bedroom with a gormless expression. God, I hated Sundays.
There was no way to sugarcoat it. Sundays blew big time. I always woke up and attempted to stay positive, but there is only so much shite a girl can take. After my run-in with Jaxon, I braced myself for a long fucking day.
Irrespective of my stepbrother’s comment, Dominic would never have been in my room in the morning. As I said, we were not at that stage yet. Not for the want of trying of course; Dominic had become so much more touchy-feely over the last couple of weeks.
Pacing over to my wardrobe, I started to take my anger out on my clothes. Not the cleverest of moves. Dragging designer jeans and tops onto the floor, I was determined to find the right outfit. that would make me look amazing and double up as body armour; a shield against the walking, talking impeccable Jaxon Savage. Even in shabby jeans and a T-shirt, he looked crisp. He never had a hair out of place and it rattled me, especially when he spoke to me as if I was the most unattractive girl on the planet. Yes, I was small and on the slim side, but I knew I wasn’t a total hog. I’d had plenty of boys ask me out in the past, before I’d finally given in to Dominic’s persistence to date him.
We had both been at the same school together and had been reunited after we’d left, partaking in an on-and-off relationship over the last couple of years. Dominic and I had now been going steady for three whole months. It was my longest relationship so far. I’d even let him touch my breasts, a base that no other boy had gotten to. To date, he had been so patient but recently; things had stepped up a notch. We’d argued about the sexual side of our relationship for the first time the other night, but in the end, he had apologised and promised me that he would wait until I was ready. He knew I was a virgin and having sex for the first time was a big step, for me anyway.
Batting off the thought, I washed my face and brushed my teeth and hair. I then pulled on faded skinny ripped jeans and a purple tight tee. After a glance at my appearance, I went downstairs to feed that beast in my belly.
My mother Daisy was in the kitchen and there was a plate piled with bacon set on the central island. The room was huge with grey contemporary-styled units which ran down two walls in an L-shape, as well as an island counter which sat separately. We usually used the counter as a breakfast bar as it had tall stools pushed under the cornerstone which jutted out at one end. There was also a huge kitchen table which we hardly ever used. This was positioned beside the large patio doors which led out into the garden and swimming pool. Yes, you heard me, swimming pool. My stepdad was loaded.
As I entered the room, my mother turned toward me with a smile. She was just removing her oven gloves and her face was bright red. Probably due to the heat from the frying pan which she’d used to cook (or should I say kill) the bacon.
“Ah, there you are. You just missed Jaxon,” she informed me in a chirpy tone. How I wished I had.
As I said, my mother was married to Jaxon’s dad, Marcus James Savage and she took her eldest stepson’s sarcasm with a pinch of salt. He never seemed to bother her. She was such a sweet little thing and she wasn’t one for bearing grudges either. “Did you sleep well sweetie?”
“Like the dead. I’m still tired though,” I replied, kissing her cheek.
“Why didn’t you lay in then?” she challenged and I grunted. Chance would be a fine thing.
“Help yourself.”
Pulling out one of the bar stools, I settled myself and then grabbed a plate and made up a roll with some bacon; crispy was probably too kind a word to describe how it was cooked, but it was still edible, just . I couldn’t talk really, as neither of us could cook.
Fuck it, I decided to throw my stepbrother under the bus. “I was up late writing last night and would gladly have slept in, but Jaxon rudely woke me up,” I huffed whilst squirting a blob of ketchup on my butty.
“Oh, dear. You two had a falling out again?” I didn’t answer that question as saying we’d had a fall-out suggested that we’d been on the same page at some stage. Jaxon and I had known each other for what felt like ages now and we had never been on friendly terms.
Picking at my breakfast, I watched as Daisy fluttered around the kitchen like a beautiful butterfly. She possessed a permanent sunny disposition. Her grey slouched knitted jumper was oversized and slid off one shoulder and she was wearing blue skinny jeans. She was only thirty-six but she looked younger. My mother was also small and slight, but her colouring was much different to mine. Her skin was always tanned and she had wavy blonde hair which fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were a clear, pale blue, the same as mine, but that was where our similarity ended. I had gotten most of my looks from my father. Thankfully I hadn’t inherited his personality which from what I could remember, wasn’t that nice.
My dad was now an insignificant person who was no longer part of my life and hadn’t been for years. Although this wasn’t necessarily the picture I painted for my friends. I couldn’t deal with pity, and so I fabricated a story about how I had an on-and-off relationship with him.
The truth was that I couldn’t recall much of our life together as a family, but I knew that Jenson Hart had not been an easy man to love. I do remember some of my parents' fights; they used to argue all the time. Argue is probably the wrong word to use as that suggested a two-way street. With my parents, the routine was my father shouting and my mother taking it .
As far as I could remember, he had never been physically violent, but emotionally abusive, most definitely. Especially when he’d started to drink heavily. After which, the cheating started. I only had vague memories of this and that and of course what little my mother had told me. She didn’t like to speak of him and so I never brought it up.
The vague story was that Daisy had finally come to her senses and left Jenson when she found out he’d been cheating on her with another woman. We had gone to live with my gran for a while until eventually renting a cottage in the same village.
Over the years, up until my mother met Marcus Savage a couple of years ago, I hadn’t had any contact with my dad.
I had attempted to reach out to him a couple of times but had failed, so I’d walked away. It wasn’t like I could draw anything positive from our relationship. As I said, he was a hard man to love.
Mum had met Marcus whilst he was visiting one of his businesses, a health and fitness centre on the edge of Norwich. Daisy had been having physio on her bad wrist, an injury she had suffered years earlier that still troubled her. I remember she’d had a metal plate fitted temporarily at one time as it took the bone months to fuse. She used to beep when we went through security at the airport. The scar from the surgery was now silver and you could only see it in certain lights.
For Daisy and Marcus, it had been love at first sight. After a whirlwind relationship, Marcus had proposed. They had been married for a good while now but they were still in their honeymoon phase. Very touchy-feely, which was at times gross to witness, but it was nice to know she was happy.
A sigh escaped me as I thought about how much my life had changed over the last couple of years. When Daisy and I had moved in with Marcus and his family, it had taken me away from the village I had lived in my entire life, putting distance between me and the rest of my family and friends. The only other relatives close enough to visit now, without hours of travelling was my mother’s brother Adrian. He owned Orchard View, a farm in the next village, so I at least had my cousins. My best friend Melody, had a car and visited occasionally, but it was hard considering we used to see each other every day.
I was now part of the Savage clan which comprised of Daisy and Marcus Savage, his sons Jaxon and Christopher and that one awkward addition, Molly. A non-blood relation, but still considered part of the pack.
My blood started to boil as I thought about my stepsister Molly and I use the term stepsister loosely. Even though Molly wasn’t a blood relative of any of the Savages, she was the daughter of Marcus’s third late wife. Marcus had raised Molly as his own whilst he and her mother had been together and he still saw her as a daughter, even though she now resided with her biological father. To put it bluntly, Molly Andrews was a first-class bitch.
I suppose it could have been worse, Marcus was sweet to me and Chris was OK. But Jaxon and Molly were like a virus. In small doses, Jaxon I could cope with, just. If Molly had been a constant at the house, I would have moved back to live with my gran again. When she and Jaxon ganged up on me, it was tough to take. As a double act, they were relentless.
My mother was wife number four, hence my initial concerns when she accepted Marcus’s proposal. I sure hoped that things worked out between them, yes, their courtship had been fast, but Marcus was perfect for Daisy. He was one of the good guys. As big as an ox physically but nice; a gentle giant. With my mother and me anyway, he didn’t take any shit from his sons. He was also extremely generous, much to his eldest son’s disgust. Something which had forced Jaxon into the belief that we were gold diggers, when in reality; we asked for nothing. I had heard that one of the wives had attempted to fleece Marcus, hence Jaxon’s huge chip on his shoulder.
“What are you up to today?” Daisy said as she joined me on one of the stools. The glass she was now holding had dubious-coloured liquid in it, she clutched the glass in her good hand, her bad wrist didn’t do well with too much weight. Mum made energy smoothies out of strange concoctions of fruit and veg. I suppose it was fortunate that she was a fitness freak, otherwise she wouldn’t have met Marcus. Like his eldest son, he too had started his career in the military before becoming a business owner.
Jaxon had followed in his father’s footsteps and Chris was due to start University to train as a doctor. He was like a walking talking brain. Chris would have to study for nine years until he was fully qualified. I couldn’t imagine sticking at anything for that long.
As for my future, I’d finished my A-Levels and was working towards becoming a journalist. I was nineteen and was due to start a media and journalism course at night school. It was all very exciting.
“Marcus is on his way back. He’s bought another gym,” Daisy announced after checking her phone. That news didn’t surprise me. As I said, my stepfather was a huge success.
All the Savages professionally thrived. After he had left the army, Marcus bought his first gym. Over the years he had made it so profitable, that he now owned several more fitness suites throughout the country, hence the fact that he was loaded.
In respect of everyday life though, Marcus hadn’t had it easy. Daisy had told me that his first wife, the boy’s mother, died of cancer when the boys were young. Harsh. She said that Marcus had explained how he then went off the rails and remarried too quickly. Wife number two having lasted only six short weeks. There was no wonder his kids were so screwed up. All those mothers. Well, Jaxon anyway. Chris seemed to be less scathed by it all.
“Wyn? Are you even listening?” my mother questioned, interrupting my thoughts .
“Yes, sorry. Marcus is coming back, I heard you. And as for what I am doing today, err, I’m going to start drafting my article for The Star, that arson piece I’ve been working on.”
I’d recently started a part-time job at a local paper and was hoping to submit an article. I was basically a dogsbody and it didn’t pay well, it was purely for the experience, to get my foot in the door. Jessica Chambers, the lead journalist there promised that she’d put a good word in with the editor if it was any good.
There had been a series of arson attacks over the last several years in the Norwich area and the two brothers who were charged had recently appealed their sentences. They were incarcerated in Norwich Prison. I had a personal interest in their story as one of the houses they had torched had been my Uncle Adrian’s farmhouse at Orchard View.
My Aunt and Uncle had been gutted as had my cousins, Mattie, Jenna, Amy, and Chrissy. of Jaxon’s friends and their neighbour had also been seriously injured. Mason was one of the McKenna boys and had entered the house to help, sustaining a head injury. In a twist of fate, he was now in a relationship with my cousin Amy and her sister Jenna was married to Nixon McKenna.
It was fresh news and I immediately jumped on it. I wanted to try and prove myself to the team and show them that I could write. And not just take telephone messages and make people tea and coffee. Dominic was a photographer and worked freelance for the paper, which was how our paths kept crossing.
We spoke for a bit longer, but Mum was in a rush as she wanted to get to the gym before it opened. She ran a Pilates class there.
“Don’t be late for dinner,” Daisy warned as she scurried from the kitchen. On a Sunday, we all ate together, unfortunately.
I made a mental note to clear my stuff off the main table in the dining room or Jaxon would shit a brick. My stepbrother could not stand mess of any kind, leaving your shit around the house was up there with signing your death warrant. I had learnt about his OCD the hard way.
Having been in a rush, Mum had left the kitchen in a mess and so pretending to be the best daughter in the world, I cleared it up. Well, sort of.
*****
Later that day, after I’d drafted my article, I cleared my research off the table and walked out of the dining room and through the large hallway. The house was huge yet still managed to nestle in the countryside between two sleepy villages in Norfolk.
There were eight bedrooms, four of which had ensuites and a main bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub. There was a large living room which was split into two sections by connecting doors, Marcus’s study, a large kitchen, and a basement gym which housed a small sauna. Triple garages and a unity room had been added via an extension that was done last year. And that was where the boys kept their fancy cars. My mother and I didn’t drive, it was something I needed to do when I had the chance. I’d need a car for my job as a journalist. You had to go where the news was and fast if you were to get the scoop on stuff.
The house was a beautiful stone-built mansion, the classic appearance at war with the contemporary interior design. There was a large sweeping driveway to the front, rolling gardens to the sides and rear of the house, and a big swimming pool and patioed area with a pool house. It was luxurious and I really appreciated it. I didn’t take things for granted. Irrespective of what Jaxon thought about me and my mother.
After placing my stuff in my room, I went back downstairs to the kitchen. I decided to cook some microwave popcorn, my stomach still not full after Mum’s bacon sandwich which I’d left most of in fear of chipping a tooth. After setting it running, I nipped to the bathroom .
As I was re-buttoning my jeans, I could hear beeping and I started to panic. I was a daydreamer and must have been in there longer than I realised. I washed my hands and rushed out and over toward the kitchen. The sound of the smoke alarm was shrill in my ears, causing me to squint.
I spied the microwave and punched the button to remove the popcorn bag. The smell of burning hit me in the face.
The small amount of smoke had made the room cloudy and I snapped the microwave closed. My throat started to clam up and flustered, I grabbed a tea towel and attempted to waft away the fog.
“What the hell have you done now?” Jaxon boomed over the sound of the alarm, storming into the kitchen, coughing, and waving his hands in the air. Those mouth-watering arm muscles of his bunched with the movement.
“Nothing,” I shouted guiltily, holding the part-melted packaging behind my back.
He scanned the room before walking over to the microwave, aka ground zero. “Nothing? Why’s the kitchen full of smoke then? Open the window,” he barked.
My breath hissed through my teeth and I turned and shoved the half-blackened snack into the bin. “You don’t have to take my head off. I left my popcorn in too long, it’s no big deal.”
His eyes widened as he went to open the back door and then the patio doors. “No big deal, you almost set the kitchen on fire!” he stormed, shooting a tempered glance around the space.
“Will you stop repeating everything I say, it’s annoying and I caught it in time,” I muttered, I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, Jaxon or myself. I moved toward the kitchen window which sat above the sink, leaning over the surface, struggling to reach the latch. The counter bit into my stomach. Luckily, the alarm then stopped.
Jaxon watched me with an are you for real expression. He then shook his head and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers before shooting me a scornful look. “You’re such a fucking Scatterbrain,” he snapped menacingly like he wanted to murder me.
Luckily, I managed to flick the catch on the window but my arms weren’t long enough to push it wide. I grabbed a spatula which I used as a poking device; hoping I could shove the glass wider. It was useless, the window was way too heavy.
My stepbrother strode towards me with a menacing grace. “What the fuck are you doing now?” Jaxon belted, looking back and forth between me and the window which was only open a slit. Disbelief radiated from him as he looked down at me.
“I can’t reach,” I confessed in a croaky voice, discarding the spatula before planting my hands on my hips.
Jaxon put a hand to his head in a ‘God give me strength’ motion. “You really are useless. Move out of the way, before I collapse from smoke inhalation.” His long, strong arm reached past me and pushed the window open, skimming over my breasts.
He made me feel like a terrible person when all I’d done was burn popcorn. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting,” I suggested with as much dignity as I could muster in such a short space of time.
Jaxon turned on me then with a stream of swear words, all fire and brimstone.
“Overreacting? How the fuck can anyone burn microwave popcorn? Where are your glasses, I imagine you didn’t read the instructions. How long did you leave it for?” he growled, demonstrating how rattled he was.
“I only put it on for ten minutes,” I replied in a small voice, dropping my hands, hating the way he was looking at me. I so hoped Chris would appear. He was the master of defusing tension and was highly experienced at doing that; his father and brother being so volatile.
Jaxon moved then and came to stand right in front of me, in my personal space. “Ten fucking minutes. You’re only meant to put it on for two. You’re also supposed to stand with it and turn it off once the popping stops. For fucks sake Wynter. You should come with a fucking hazard warning.”
I dropped my arms, far too aware of his nearness and strength and it clouded my thoughts. I didn’t feel like I deserved such utter contempt for something so minor and I looked up into his face, he was furious. “It was an accident,” I fretted, stepping back to put some distance between our bodies. He was so close, his chest almost against mine. I had to snap my neck to keep eye contact. Jaxon also moved forward, backing me into the kitchen island.
My heart leapt in my chest as he placed his hands on either side of my body against the counter, caging me in.
“ Another accident. You pulled this shit within the first month of my knowing you. Almost setting the kitchen on fire by burning shit in the microwave. You’re a walking disaster. You leave the fridge door open, knock wine over and stain the dining room carpet. You leave the front door unlocked. You shrunk my bloody jeans when you decided to take my advice and help for once. Not to mention the drama when you set the security alarm off the other month, forcing me to intervene. Now you try to burn the house down. You’re a fucking liability. You’re about as useful as a bucket without a bottom.”
I stared up at him through my lashes, his scent was so amazing. It drew me in, coating my insides with warmth. My mouth opened and his eyes followed the action. Even though he was chewing me out, my body was reacting to that nearness. My nipples were pebbled against my top.
“And whilst we’re dissecting all that is Wynter,” Jaxon said, whispering against the shell of my ear, “You can cut out the lingering looks you keep giving me when you think I’m not looking.”
A ball of embarrassment appeared in my throat. “I don’t know what you mean?” I croaked.
He drew back and stared down at me, annoyance, and something else lurking in those dark depths of his eyes. Whatever that emotion was, it was much more disturbing than his discontent. I watched, feeling helpless as a muscle jumped in his jaw.
“The way you eye-fuck me at every opportunity. It’s downright pathetic.”
Shame thudded through me as he was right. He was an ape and horrible to me but I was attracted to him nonetheless. Anything with a pulse would be attracted to Jaxon.
He was purposefully crowding me and I knew I should try and push him away, but I couldn’t raise my hands.
“You wouldn’t be able to take me anyway sunshine.” His husky purr sunk through my skin despite the brittle tone.
I could feel the heat from his body enveloping me. “You’re disgusting,” I panted, averting my eyes from his impenetrable stare.
“That may be the case, but you’re still panting for it. Did you burn the popcorn on purpose, just to get my attention?” Bollocks to that. At that moment, if Jaxon was on fire and I had water, I’d drink it.
I turned my head away almost suffocated by his nearness and that heat coming off his body in waves. Jaxon lifted a hand and grabbed my chin in a firm grip, forcing my face back. My eyes widened as they locked on his. Considering he was a fitness expert his hands had always felt rough; like he’d worked with them in some capacity in the past.
And then something odd happened. Jaxon’s face softened slightly and he no longer looked cross. His gaze skittered over my features like a caress and for a split second I thought he was going to kiss me. My mouth was still parted, like an invitation. His eyes dropped to my lips briefly before he lifted his head. His expression masked again. “Clear up your shit and stay away from the kitchen, you ditzy little cow.”
His words were biting. “I’ve said I’m sorry.”
Jaxon’s mouth moved to the cuff of my ear again, his entire frame pushing into me. “If you pull this sort of shit again. You will be. ”
I felt the tell-tale sign of tears and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I raised my hands and pushed at Jaxon’s chest but he remained exactly where he was. He was so much bigger and stronger than me and he was not ashamed of pointing that out.
Running out of energy, I exhaled and drew my hands against my chest. “Please move Jaxon,” I panted.
“I could say make me, but since you beg so prettily, you can go.” And he dropped his arms and stepped back.
As I twisted past him and raced from the room, he belted as I retreated, “Stay out of the kitchen.”
I hurried to my room and slammed the door, holding back my tears. Arguments were not good for my composure.
Grabbing some tissues, I walked over to my bed and sat down.
I couldn’t believe Jaxon had brought up that night when the alarm went off, considering what had happened between us. My stepbrother had rugby-tackled me to the floor, believing me to be an intruder. He had brought me down from behind, it had been so dark. How he hadn’t broken my ribs was a miracle, he was so much bigger than me. As his body had connected with mine, he’d realised his mistake and attempted to soften the impact of his chest against my back.
That night would forever be in my memory. Jaxon had spun me around on the hard floor, shining his iPhone torch in my face, looming on top of me. Once he’d seen it was me, relief had pooled into his features.
“What the hell Wynter, I could have hurt you,” he husked, his breath uneven.
He’d then gone to push himself off me before he’d noticed I was only wearing a bra and shorts. It had been a hot night and I had wanted a drink of water.
His usual scornful look had swiftly switched to one of curiosity and desire and after a beat or two, Jaxon lowered his mouth and kissed me. That kiss had plundered my soul and sexual awareness had rolled through me like thunder .
That was the first and last time and I would never forget the way his mouth had felt against mine, how his tongue had so forcefully entered my mouth. Filling me, plunging in and out. His elbows had been on either side of my head, his chest crushing my breasts and my own hands had slid into his hair as I opened for him, letting him in. Our mouths fused in reckless passion.
It had only lasted seconds but I’d felt how his body had hardened against mine.
Jaxon had then pulled himself back and rolled off me, pushing to his feet with a curse.
Those words he had hissed still rang through my head. “Go back to bed before I take what’s so blatantly on offer.”
I’d shot up those stairs like a bullet from a gun, as if the devil was on my heels and he was, sort of.
We had never spoken of that incident, but it had always silently loomed there between us.
Irrespective of his personal feelings about me, when it came to sex, Jaxon’s body was as weak as mine.