Three
Dominic and I spoke the next day on the phone. He was pissed off about the kiss, saying how it was fucked up, Jaxon being my stepbrother. I had to remind him that he had obviously enjoyed showing Lexi his dick and he made a snide comment saying how there was at least someone alive who wanted to see it. I shrugged that comment off, knowing he was jealous and I couldn’t blame him. Both Jaxon and I had gotten carried away and in front of loads of people.
Dominic and I went to the cinema together that day and eventually made up.
A few days later, I met with Jessica for coffee to discuss my article. She had previously given me some suggested changes which I had made. I immediately sensed it was a calm before the storm scenario and she was setting me up for a fall.
Over our drinks and cake, she explained that as the Proctor case was so high profile, the editor had put a senior journalist on the story, someone with more experience.
I felt instantly bummed off as you can imagine. I had worked so hard on that story and I didn’t have anything else to submit.
Thankfully, I was given another option. Jessica said that over the following month, the editor intended to run several articles about mental health. The thinking behind the theme was to help raise awareness of why people emotionally struggle within certain work sectors. The specific areas they would target were the farming industry, the military, and the police force.
Jessica knew my stepfather well and that he had a military background, so she suggested I focus on writing a piece on mental health in the army. If Jaxon was anything to go by; fucking nuts would sum that one up.
I felt deflated that my piece on arson had been dropped, but I knew I needed to get used to it. Journalism was dog eat dog, it was very competitive and you had to learn how to deal with disappointment. I decided my next piece would blow her away.
As we finished our coffee, she explained that she couldn’t guarantee anything I wrote would make it to print, but that it was a good experience for me anyway. I felt a bit patronised but what could I do, I was only just starting out. Jessica also promised that if my submission did make it into the paper, they would pay me cash per word printed. The thought of being paid for something I had written spurned me on.
As I sat on the bus, I pulled out my notebook and drafted down a few key areas to explore about mental health issues in the army.
As I googled on my phone, I could see problems were rife and there had been several soldiers over the last few years who had committed suicide. Most of them appeared to have occurred after the soldier had left the army. I suppose it would be easy to become institutionalised in the military. One female soldier had written a piece about how she had struggled to readjust to normal life.
After reading a couple more articles, I pressed the bell for my stop and walked the rest of the way to my house.
The large electric gates were open and I could see Marcus’s Tesla in his parking space. Jaxon’s car was also there but there was no sign of my mother’s Porche. A wedding gift from Marcus. Chris had a license and owned a car but preferred the bus.
It was only around six but it was a dull day and the evening air was humid. Luckily, I was home in time for dinner which was being served at seven sharp. My mother had texted to say that we were eating together as a family that night and I wondered why. Being ex-military, Marcus did not appreciate tardiness. I wondered briefly where my mother was.
As I stepped into the lobby area, I hung my bag and coat on one of the pegs by the door and then withdrew my phone. I checked for possible messages from Daisy but had none. Dominic and I had spoken on the phone a couple of times over the last few days, but neither of us had brought up the incident by the pool again. He was away with work and I was due to see him at the weekend.
Missing you sexy x , he had texted. I replied with a kissing emoji, saying I’d call him later.
Pushing my phone into the back pocket of my jeans along with my notebook and glasses, I heard raised voices.
Here we go again. It was Jaxon and his father. Their deep baritones vibrated from the kitchen.
“If you continue behaving like an unaccommodating little prick, you can move your shit into the coach house,” Marcus barked out, his voice raised in anger. Little? There was nothing little about Jaxon. He was correct on the latter part of that name-calling.
The coach house was located at the bottom of the main house's rolling gardens and the building was partly hidden by weeping willow trees, almost like a secret. It used to be where the servants would live; when the house had servants. It was also the place where the previous owner would keep his mistress. My mother had the low down on the house’s history and loved gossip. What could I say, she was a hopeless romantic.
Banished to the coach house, oh dear, Jaxon wouldn’t appreciate that threat.
“Maybe I will. Then I don’t have to watch you make a fool of yourself,” Jaxon belted back. The volume of their voices dipped and soared and so I knew they were not standing still. Probably circling each other like sharks thirsty for blood. It never appeared to get physical, but it always sounded like it was on the brink. The thought of them fighting did not sit well with me, they were both big fuckers and I imagined the damage would be severe.
I remained hidden and listened, naughty I know.
“When you grow up and have a relationship of your own, I’ll allow you to try and dictate what one should look like. You have no idea. It isn’t all about getting your end away. Effort is required, it takes work and understanding. Things you know fuck all about.”
I so shouldn’t be listening to this shit.
“Says the guy who can’t keep his fucking hands to himself. I live here too and being forced to watch you with your tongue constantly stuck down that woman’s throat is hardly an easy pill to swallow. You talk about respect, how is that fucking respectful to me and Chris,” Jaxon ranted, the menace in his voice making me pause. I then heard banging as if he was going through the cupboards and looking for something. Marcus must have been cooking dinner as I could smell something garlicky.
“If I hear you speaking to Daisy or Wynter with any disregard for their feelings again, I’ll throw you the fuck out.”
Jason choked out a laugh at that one. “I’d like to see you try, old timer,” he snarled.
“I mean it Jaxon. I’ve had enough of your crap.”
I heard my stepbrother snort, “I’m so done with this shit.”
“Where are you going? We’re not done here,” Marcus shouted.
“I am,” Jaxon insisted, his voice now louder. I realised that he was leaving the kitchen a little too late and this forced me to move away and attempt to make it up to my room. My stepbrother’s voice then stopped me as I just made it up the first few steps of the stairs. Waves of embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping crashed through my gut. Was he going to shout at me too? I bit my lip, anxiety pumping through me.
The silence pulsated with menace. “Nosey much?” he rasped, his voice full of aggression and something else. There was nothing I could do but stop and turn with barely concealed doom.
My breath hitched in my throat as I fought with my reply .
“What’s the matter? Nothing to say? I’ll be seriously disappointed if you’ve lost the ability to use your tongue.” I didn’t miss his intentionally sexually suggestive tone as his eyes dropped to my lips.
“What do you want me to say?” I said, shrugging one shoulder.
Jaxon’s eyes then locked with mine. “Do you get off on hearing me and Marcus fuck each other up?”
He strode closer and I could see he was upset. The need to comfort him raised its misguided head and I squared my shoulders. “No. The opposite. I hate to hear you fighting with your father,” I replied, almost at eye level, being a couple of steps above him. He inclined his head as he came to stand in front of me.
“Considering you and your fucking mother are usually the cause, I find that hard to swallow,” he bit back. His neck was corded with tension.
I winced and practically growled in frustration, “You’re such a nasty bastard.” He didn’t like that and he loomed closer.
“Why, because I say it how it is?”
“And how is it Jaxon? You talk to him like dirt. I don’t understand what he’s done to deserve that.”
Jaxon exhaled, looking up at the ceiling briefly before his eyes clashed with mine again. Frustrated aggression thrummed through him. “Do you know how many times I’ve been here Wynter? Four, four fucking wives. They never last and you and your mother won’t either. It’s a novelty for him. He generally treats women like shit.” I almost bit my tongue at that one.
“And you don’t?”
“That’s not the same. I don’t give out empty promises. With me, they know the score,” he huffed.
I recalled what Jaxon had said to me in the early days. “It won’t last. It never does. Once the novelty of banging your mother wears off, my father will ditch her and you’ll be gone. So don’t get too comfortable sweetheart.” That is what I had gotten instead of hello. Talk about bad first impressions .
“It’s not exactly a novelty now. They’re married and have been for ages. You should still be nicer to your father,” I lectured in a frosty tone.
“Don’t involve yourself in shit you don’t understand,” he snapped back.
My God, evil was this boy’s religion, he made my blood boil.
I wanted to scream in his face but went with, “I’m going to my room, there’s no talking to you,” I bleated with frustration, feeling drained suddenly. Why I was standing there allowing him to suck the fun out of my day was anyone’s guess.
He was spoiling for a fight and probably got off on the fact that I wasn’t as evenly matched as his father. With me, he got away with it.
“ Your room, that’s fucking rich. Nothing here belongs to you or your twit of a mother.”
I had to curl my hands into fists to stop myself from hitting him. How dare he call my mother names!
A noise distracted me and I glanced over his broad shoulder as Marcus appeared from around the corner. From the look on his face, he’d heard what his son had said.
Jaxon followed my focus and glanced to the side before twisting back to me with a sigh of impatience. “As I said, I don’t have time for this shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“Jaxon. My study. Now,” my stepfather commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.
My stepbrother didn’t turn around, he just rolled his eyes at me, a poor attempt to rein in his foul mood.
“Yes sir ,” he hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He said the word sir like a soldier saluting his superior officer but with a significant layer of disdain.
I swallowed as I watched Jaxon turn away and move down the corridor to the opposite side of the house. The location of his dad’s office. His body language oozed aggression. The shit was going to hit the fan .
My stepfather and I just stood there staring at each other with exasperated expressions until we heard Jaxon down the corridor. He slammed the door as loud as humanly possible. I flinched but Marcus remained unmoved.
After a glance down the hallway, he drew his gaze back and slowly walked toward me; his face was now expressionless but his cheeks were red.
“I’ll see you at supper, Wynter. You are not to repeat any of what you’ve heard to Daisy. OK?”
I soaked in those words and agreed with him. I always shielded my mother from any type of nastiness.
“Of course,” I agreed.
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes and I felt sorry for him. “And please don’t worry about Jaxon. The boy is just full of hot air. He’ll come around eventually. He just needs to grow up a bit. If he gives you any trouble, come and see me. OK?” Full of hot air my arse. Jaxon needed to grow a heart as he was clearly born without one.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. Where is mum anyway?” I questioned.
“She’s on her way back from the hairdressers. She’ll be here in time for supper,” he explained, his face softening as he spoke of her. Marcus then twisted away and followed his son’s last direction, his walk suggesting he was about to unleash hell.
Turning around, I went up to my room, taking the stairs two at a time.
Would I ever be part of a family that got along?
Checking my phone, I had around forty minutes before dinner and I spent that time trying to establish what angle to use for my mental health article. I loved writing; writing was my version of meditation and I loved to lose myself in it. But I needed to speak with Marcus about this particular piece. He’d be able to help and make some suggestions and I knew he’d do everything he could to support me. I was Daisy’s daughter and he was obsessed with making her happy .
After working for around half an hour, I removed my reading glasses, freshened up in my bathroom and pulled on a black jumper over a white T-shirt and jeans. I then went downstairs for dinner.
As I entered the dining room, Chris and Daisy were both seated and Marcus was in the process of plating up. He was a fantastic cook and had made the most delicious-looking lasagne. He portioned it up and then we helped ourselves to salad and crusty bread.
Jaxon’s seat at the other end of the table remained empty. So, he had decided against joining us for supper. If I hadn’t witnessed the fight, it wouldn’t have been that big a deal as he didn’t always eat with us. Only on Sundays, when the Sunday roast was compulsory for all members of the family. Marcus made a killer roast beef.
I sat next to Chris who had a textbook at the table. He was shoving food into his mouth and reading.
Marcus lowered himself into his seat opposite his wife, who beamed across at him, “This looks delicious as always,” she cooed with her new hair beautifully styled. She was so in love, it poured from her.
He grinned and winked before turning to Chris, “No reading at the table Christopher, put the book down.”
Chris automatically shut the book and looked across at me with a faraway look.
“So how was your meeting with Jessica, Wynter?” my mother questioned as she nibbled on a lettuce leaf.
“Not bad. She didn’t go for my arson piece, but she offered me another project,” I began excitedly, taking a drink of water. This pricked up Chris’s ears.
“How so?” he questioned, taking an interest. I could see from his father’s expression that he appreciated his youngest son’s effort .
I shuffled back in my seat, lowering my fork. “They have asked me to do an article on mental health issues in the military,” I replied.
Marcus sat up straighter in his chair. “Wowzer, that’s a meaty project. Are you sure you want to go there? It won’t be easy to write about.”
Nodding, I chewed the lasagne I had just forked into my mouth and then cleared my throat. “I know. I’ve done some research already. I want to get into it though, thoroughly. Raise more awareness. Jessica says I am good at writing gritty stuff.”
Daisy was listening to me but her eyes never left the face of her husband, talk about smitten. They were probably playing footsie under the table.
“Well, I can probably get you access to the base. Maybe you could speak to some soldiers that are currently serving. You can’t have access to their files but I could pull some strings and ask for volunteers to chat to you about their experiences,” Marcus said and another surge of excitement whooshed through me. I knew he’d be supportive. Daisy looked like she wanted to launch herself onto his lap and rain kisses on his face. As Jason had pointed out during the row with his father in the kitchen, they were very tactile.
“Marcus, that’s so sweet of you,” she said with a bright, appreciative expression. She was so pretty; it wasn’t a surprise that her new husband was all over her like a rash.
“That would be super, Marcus. Thank you. Do you think they’d talk to me though?”
His eyes creased as he grinned saying, “When they see you, of course. They’ll be queuing up to offload all their problems.”
Chris’s nose was wrinkled in distaste. “Hmm, exactly. Maybe I should go with you? Just in case anyone gets any ideas,” he offered. He was such a gentleman.
“No need. Marham is the closest base. I’ll speak to Jaxon.”
That excitement I’d felt sunk to the bottom of my stomach. Great. That was so not what I wanted .
“I doubt he’ll want to help me, Marcus. But thank you anyway,” I sighed, accepting that his suggestion probably wouldn’t come to pass now.
He exchanged a look with his son. “Don’t worry, leave it to me. I’ll have a word.”
Nodding, I smiled my thanks. We then all moved on to another subject. Chris explained that he was reading about the human brain. He lit up, you’d have thought he was talking about the most exciting thing ever. I suppose for someone who wanted to become a doctor, he was.
Then the reason for the sudden dinner get-together was dropped into the room like a bombshell.
My mother was pregnant. Daisy and Marcus were going to have a child together. So much for Jaxon’s comments about it not lasting. They said it was early days and that Daisy had yet to have the pregnancy confirmed by the Doctor, but that they wanted to share the news straight away. And then it struck me why Jaxon was absent from the meal. Marcus had already told him.
*****
After dinner, I helped load the dishwasher, wondering how Jaxon had taken the news and where he was. He hadn’t gone out as I could see his car parked in its usual space in front of the house. Was he sulking in his room? I had popped up there and placed my ear against the wood of the door but it had been silent. Had his father snapped and sent him to the Coach House after hearing the way he spoke to me on the stairs? It was now eerily dark and there was no way I was venturing out there to look.
My father and mother were in the cinema room watching a movie and so I steered clear, not wanting to be roped into watching the sappy stuff they enjoyed together. I assumed Chris was in his bedroom reading. As I walked down the various corridors, I decided to go down into the basement where the gym and sauna were.
As I trotted barefoot down the stairs, I could hear a thumping noise. The light was on in the gym, it bathed the wooden floor of the corridor outside.
On tiptoes, I moved towards the doors which had been left open. The room had mirrors along all walls and held a variety of athletic equipment there. The thudding got louder and as I got closer, I could see a large punching bag attached by a chain to the ceiling, swinging from impact.
My stomach lurched. You couldn’t help but stare. Jaxon was there, wearing ripped jeans. His feet were bare and he was shirtless. Fuck me, he looked sensational. I felt a strange throbbing sensation between my legs. His body was sheened in sweat as he jabbed aggressively at the bag. His fists were wrapped in tape and I watched mesmerised as he continuously punched the bag, hard. His face was full of pent-up violence which he was attempting to eradicate by being so physical.
He stopped suddenly as if sensing I was there. Common sense told me to turn and leave. Jaxon was angry and I was probably the last person he wanted to see. Was he imagining the bag was me?
“What the fuck do you want now?” he growled, turning his head towards where I stood in the doorway. I felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, frozen.
The pulse in my neck quivered, “Are you OK?” I croaked. It felt like I was invading his privacy.
Jaxon closed his eyes briefly. “My dad got your mother sprogged up, what do you think?” he snapped, grabbing the swinging bag to hold it still. He looked mouth-watering, the room was lit quite dimly and shadows bounced across his muscled physique. He was pumped from his workout. My eyes skimmed over the silver bar in his manly nipple. That was the only item of jewellery I had ever seen him wear .
An unbelievable urge to pull him into my arms rushed into me. He looked so sad, tormented even and I hated that he was in pain. He must have processed their news much quicker than me as I was still reeling, totally unsure of how I should be feeling.
I slid further into the room; the wooden floor was cool against my soles. I still had my jeans on and suddenly felt hot in the jumper I was wearing.
After a few more moments of contemplation, I went with, “I’m sorry. I don’t like to see you upset,” moving toward him.
Jaxon snorted.
“Don’t pretend that you give two shits about me Wynter. What the fuck do you have to be sorry about?” he snapped, now facing me, and starting to unwind the tape from one hand. His movements were jerky and fast, again highlighting how pissed off he was.
“Your mother has successfully managed to secure her position as lady of the manor now. Doesn’t it freak you out that one day we will share a half-brother or sister?”
“Not really,” I replied honestly.
“No? Don’t you think the weird chemistry we have between us is sick now?” I was surprised he’d finally acknowledged that there was something between us.
I didn’t agree with him though. “Not really. We still won’t be biologically related to each other,” I pointed out. “We don’t share the same blood. We’re nothing to each other really.”
“You got that right,” Jaxon shot back with a sneer, shitting all over his chemistry comment. He was probably annoyed that he’d raised it.
“You don’t have to be upset about it. It’s nice news.” I wanted to soothe his anxiety. He held his body so rigid like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders .
“I’m not sad, I’m fucking angry, Wynter. And that being the case, you should get the hell away from me,” Jaxon elaborated nastily. His neck was corded with tension.
I exhaled. “No,” I replied in a surprisingly firm voice. I then peeled my jumper off over my head, revealing my tee beneath it. It was so hot in the room and you could smell his workout. The scent was heady, with man sweat and that spicy aftershave Jaxon wore like a boss.
His eyes narrowed, watching me as I threw my jumper to the side, now standing before him in skinny jeans and a tight white tee.
Jaxon’s eyes hungrily roamed over me. “And the rest,” he drawled with a wolfish smile.
I tutted and quirked him a look. “Are you always such a pervert?”
His lustful stare jumped up a notch as he admitted, “Fuck yeah.”
I rolled my eyes. He always had to make everything sexual. “Do you always work out when you’re angry?” I asked innocently.
He spun and discarded the tape he had removed from his right hand before turning back toward me.
The way he was watching me was so intense. Almost like he was touching my skin with that gaze. A strange emotion rolled in my belly.
“Generally. I also do other things when I’m angry. All to let off steam of course,” he explained with a smutty look.
I didn’t need him to spell it out but I questioned him anyway. “Like what?”
“Fuck. But I suppose you’re now off limits with the baby news.”
“The baby news affects nothing, and I was always off limits to you anyway,” I replied in a bland tone. I knew he was being crude just to rattle me. That’s what he did.
The look he then gave me was still predatory. “You’re such a little liar. Well, if you haven’t come here to join me in the latter—then piss off,” Jaxon barked with insulting ease in a smoky, firm voice .
It was a blatant challenge and one Jaxon knew I wouldn’t accept.
“We could just talk,” I suggested, moving closer to him.
He took a step back, keeping some distance. “That’s not half as much fun I’m afraid. Sex is so much better.”
“I thought you said it was sick now,” I pointed out with a head tilt.
“I did. But that’s me all over. You know that.”
I attempted to lead us down another path of conversation. “You’re not the only one who gets frustrated and angry you know. I’ve had to move away from all my friends and I hardly know anyone here. It’s hard for me too.”
He shot me a pointed look. “My heart bleeds. And so how do you vent?”
Shrugging, I replied, “I don’t. I just deal with it, sort of.”
He snorted rudely. “No, you don’t. You just sit on it, allowing it to fester. Maybe that’s why you’re wound so tight. You don’t allow yourself to offload, ever. And I know you have demons, Wynter, just like me.”
I scratched my chin thoughtfully; he made sense for a change.
“Maybe I do.”
“So, don’t you want to do something about that?”
I rolled my eyes again and Jaxon quirked his head as he removed the rest of the tape.
I watched as he turned his back. The muscles there rippled and I wanted to run my hands over them. Trace the area with my fingertips.
My stepbrother then reached onto the desk in front of him, where he’d placed the tape before twisting back towards me. He held what appeared to be a new roll in his hand.
“Come here,” he beckoned. He said it in a voice that tantalised and teased. A girl would have done anything that voice commanded.
I moved, coming to stand directly in front of him. “Give me your hand,” he instructed, holding his palm out. I placed my fingers into it. Unsure, yet trusting .
My pulse twitched at the contact of our skin. Jaxon’s thumb then caressed the back of my hand before he lowered his gaze, starting to unwind the tape and then gently secured it around my knuckles and hand.
“What are you doing?” I questioned, feeling confused by how calm he was being towards me considering his initial outburst. Like a temporary truce had fallen between us, one that I was more than happy to embrace.
He continued to wind the tape around my hand and then moved towards the other. Once my knuckles were securely taped, I glanced down. “It feels funny.”
“It does at first, come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He then took me by the wrist and pulled me towards the large punching bag.
I smiled softly, my eyes roaming over his determined face.
“I must say, you packed quite a punch the day you slapped me, and so you’re not a total weakling as I suspected. Now you can show me.” He tapped the bag and went around to hold it in place for me.
“Do I just punch it?”
“Yes, just go for it, I’ll correct your technique if needs be,” he explained. He was on a mission; Jaxon was the teacher and I was his pupil.
I drew back my hand and hit out at the bag, Jaxon was watching me through a hooded gaze. “Again,” he ordered, smacking the bag.
After the next punch, he held up his hand, signally for me to stop. I took a step back as he circled the bag and came up behind me. His chest to my back.
My breathing became ragged as I felt his arms coming around me, those strong fingers of his running down past my elbows, caging me between his body and the punching bag. His left hand then fell to my hip and he helped me shape a fist with my right hand, “Tuck your thumb in more,” he suggested against my ear, his lips grazing that area.
I could feel his breath against my shoulder and a hot tide of desire raced through me. The heat from his body was delicious against my backside .
Jaxon lifted his other hand from my hip and tapped a location on the bag for me to aim at, he held the wrist of my fisted hand and guided my hand to that spot.
“Now, you do it, but harder this time.”
I copied what he had just shown me and threw a clean punch at the bag. It swung slightly. “Good, again.”
Jaxon then resumed his position behind the bag and he held it whilst I pummelled it. It was more tiring than it looked as I threw punch after punch but it felt good.
I finally tired, my arms aching and stopped; panting and attempting to get my breath back.
Jaxon watched me in silence for a moment before he said, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Yes, surprisingly.”
“I won’t ask who you are imagining the bag to be,” Jaxon chuckled with a lopsided smile.
“Yes, that’s probably for the best,” I replied. I hadn’t been thinking of anyone, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Here, give me your hands.”
I lifted my arms as he sauntered toward me. His naked chest doing strange things to my insides. Suddenly feeling nervous, I lowered my eyes from his probing stare. Jaxon was now wearing one of those cocky grins I hated.
My tummy flipped as he took one of my hands in his and gently started to remove the tape. He then did the same with the other one.
“Thank you,” I whispered as he threw the used tape on the table by one of the mirrored walls.
He then stepped back and lifted my chin with his thumb, our gazes clashed, “So polite Wynter, when you hate my guts?”
I swallowed as the air between us shifted. “I don’t hate you, not really. ”
He laughed out loud at that one before saying, “Liar.” He recovered quickly, his expression becoming hungry.
Anticipation gripped me by the throat. Sexual tension now crackled between us as he released his grip on my jaw and traced my bared collarbone with a fingertip. My tongue shot out to moisten my lips and he watched the motion with a dark look, his face half-shadowed in the dimness of the room.
I took a stabilising breath as he continued to watch me without speaking, our bodies so close and I wanted him to kiss me. Needed it like the air in my lungs.
His eyes suddenly narrowed in warning.
“Stop it,” he husked.
His scent swamped me. “Stop what…” my voice trailed off; I hated the fact that my body was betraying me. Why did I crave this boy so much? Forbidden fruit maybe?
“You know what, Wynter. You need to lose the girlish crush,” he arrogantly stated. Annoyance flared through me; he’d had no intention of kissing me. Had he been teasing me?
Before I could reply, his arms wrapped around my waist and he yanked me against his torso. On instinct, my hands fell on his forearms. He was so strong, his masculinity invading my senses. The guy oozed testosterone. My fingertips grazed the veins there which were pronounced; a sign of his strength.
My throat closed and I couldn’t speak, I could only stare, eating him alive with my eyes. His manly essence spoke the same language as my femininity. Yes, I wanted him but girlish crush, what was I, ten?
“I’m surprised I even fit in this room with you, considering the size of your ego. You were the one leading the kiss by the pool Jaxon, maybe you need to lose your crush,” I mocked. Determined not to allow him to break down my defences and use my attraction against me.
He quirked me a look and the hands at my waist slid to the cheeks of my bottom which he cupped. The motion pulled me further against his crotch and my mouth dropped open, he was rock hard against my stomach and he ground himself against me. My mouth dropped open but no words could find their way between my lips.
“I take it from your silence that you get where I am going with this?” Jaxon whispered.
His expression changed as he watched my reaction with interest; like I was some type of experiment. His smile was lazy and he rocked against me again. I knew I should pull back but I was mesmerised, like I was caught in a trap of my own making. His eyes held me captive.
Jaxon Savage had a hard-on for me and we hadn’t even done anything yet. It gave me an intoxicating feeling of power. I sucked in what little oxygen there was in my chest as the air crackled between us.
“Do you want my advice?” Jaxon said smugly.
“Maybe you need to give your body's reaction to me that advice,” I answered smugly, gesturing toward his crotch.
His jaw flexed and he shot me a satisfied smile, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “That’s not a crush sweetheart, that’s called human fucking nature.”
I felt a sharp sexual tug, but managed to mutter, “If you say so.”
Lust flared in his gaze. “I do. And don’t try and pretend that your body isn’t doing the same damn thing. I can see your nipples are hard and if I were to reach between your legs, I know exactly what I’d find,” Jaxon whispered massaging my bottom, creating friction and heat continued to surge between my legs. He was right, I could feel my underwear was soaked.
An arrow of longing shot through me. I hated that he made me feel like a toy he could play with. I had to be strong and pull away.
Just one more minute.
My voice returned. “I think you should let me go Jaxon. Remember what you said about the baby,” I managed in a firm voice .
His expression was now primal. “As you said, that has fuck all to do with what’s between you and me. And you don’t want me to let you go. At least your body doesn’t. Why don’t you listen to it for a change.”
I exhaled saying, “And do what exactly?”
“Grow a pair and kiss me,” Jaxon replied, his tone firm with a thread of steel.
It was a dare. A blatant challenge. My thoughts shifted to Dominic, I had a boyfriend, what the hell was I doing?
“Give me your mouth Wynter,” he commanded and I felt my resistance start to slide, thoughts of Dominic and my mother’s news forgotten.
My limbs were shaking and my lips parted, a blatant invitation as Jaxon grinned wolfishly and lowered his head.
“What’s going on?” a voice suddenly spoke from the side of us. It was Marcus. Shit. I was released like I was a hot rock and Jaxon moved away, turning his back on his father. I imagined to hide the fact that he was sexually aroused.
My face flushed. “Nothing,” I replied in an uneven voice. My face was probably bright red. Fuck!
Marcus was standing at the door to the gym, his brow creased in a deep, worrying frown. He was looking back and forth between us. There was no question that he knew I was lying.
I shifted to the side of the room and grabbed my jumper off the floor, pulling it on over my torso. Needing somewhere to hide. Marcus advanced into the room, his body language screaming that he wasn’t happy with what he’d just seen. We hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. Maybe if he had entered the room a few minutes later. Shit, perish the thought.
Jaxon sniffed and then turned to face his father; his brow was creased in a pissed-off frown.
“Well, what were you doing?” Marcus questioned, his eyes flicking between us. My gaze was riveted on my stepfather’s suspicious face. He knew exactly what he had seen, the man put the S in the word shrewd .
He was quite intimidating, standing there before us, almost blocking an escape route. Marcus Savage was as tall and as packed as his eldest son. His chest was massive and toned with muscle.
“Nothing. Nothing that is any of your business anyway,” Jaxon stated, folding his arms across his chest, his expression changing to a what the fuck are you going to do about it look. “What are you doing down here? Aren’t you supposed to be watching a shit movie with the mother of your child?”
“It’s finished. I came to speak to you. And you’ll watch your mouth when you speak about Daisy.”
I smoothed back my hair, needing something to do with my hands and shot Jaxon a glance. He now looked mildly amused. Possibly due to my skittishness. He was as cool as a cucumber.
Marcus cleared his throat. “Wynter is going to write a piece about mental health in the army. I was going to suggest you ask around at work and see if any colleagues would be willing to speak to her about it. Get their take on it. Although I’m not sure that’s a good idea now.”
My heart sank. He so knew we’d been up to something. I was mortified, I sure hoped he didn’t say anything to Daisy.
Jaxon moved then, sliding an arm around my shoulders and my stomach flipped at his sudden transformation.
He squeezed me into his side. “I’d be only too happy to help out my little sister here,” he informed his father. His words would have been perfectly fine had he viewed me as that, but bearing in mind what Marcus had just witnessed, it was like he was purposefully mocking his dad. Wanting to get a rise out of him.
Marcus opened his mouth to speak but Jaxon cut him off with, “We’ve become closer recently. Whilst you were away knocking Daisy up.”
“That’s enough,” Marcus warned in a firm voice .
I nudged Jaxon in the ribs, I was confused but I knew he was trying to suggest that we had done stuff whilst our parents were away. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole.
Stepping away, Jaxon’s arm dropped to his side and he shot me a look as if to say, what, did I say something wrong?
“I don’t know what game you’re playing Jaxon, but I can tell you right now if it includes Wynter. We’ll be having a very different conversation. Especially now.”
“Please Marcus, ignore him. He’s just being his usual annoying self,” I put in, jamming my hands on my hips. I didn’t want to be there. My head was recoiling into my jumper like a turtle.
“You weren’t saying that a minute ago princess,” Jaxon leered. His expression was now sexually suggestive. He even dared to wink! And in front of his father. The boy knew no shame. He was so cocksure and arrogant and at that moment I did hate him.
I sucked in a breath and huffed, “Stop it Jaxon, you’re only making things worse.”
Jaxon grunted, “Making things worse for who?”
“Yourself,” I replied simply.
His lips formed a provocative smile and he flicked a glance towards his father, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, my dad’s a man, he gets it.”
“I get what exactly?” Marcus replied in a hard voice.
“How a man’s mind works when it comes to women. I’m not the only one in this house who thinks with his dick.”
OMG! I almost fainted, kill me, kill me now. I could hardly breathe.
The silence stretched and it was thick and heavy. It felt like a huge chain had been draped across my shoulders .
I was about to fall to the floor in full-on panic mode but my stepfather saved me. He must have seen how rattled I was by his son’s comment; it being my mother on the end of Marcus’s dick. A horrible thought I know.
“Wynter. Go to your room,” Marcus commanded and I fled. I certainly didn’t want to be privy to that part of the conversation. Marcus was going to kill his child; I could feel it. The antagonism between them was painful to watch.
The words Jaxon shouted as I made my way from the room would echo in my head for the rest of that night.
“I’ll be up later.”