Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
jenna
All eyes are on us we make our way to his room.
Walking through the common space feels like walking the plank.
I keep my head high and try not to let the glares and eye rolls get to me.
What is that about? I don’t even know any of these girls.
I’ve come to the clubhouse a few times with Marley and Cal since my one night with Axel, but none of the women ever gave me a second look.
Now it seems I’m the star of some twisted show.
I only see a few of the guys but they are too busy doing other stuff to really pay us any mind. What happened tonight was big.
Stepping onto the second floor, I’m shocked by how many doors line the long hallway.
This clubhouse is like Mary Poppins’ bag—just when I feel like I’ve seen it all, an entire second wing pops up.
Axel leads me down the hall until we stop in front of a large mahogany door with the number four nailed to the front.
Fishing his keys from his pocket, Axel opens the heavy door and gestures with a slight nod of his head for me to enter.
Pausing, I take a moment to rethink complying with his plan for me to stay. What is Axel thinking? I can’t stay here… with him. This is a disaster waiting to happen. We had a deal. I ultimately decide I’ve made it this far, so turning around isn’t an option.
No going back now.
I drop my shoulders and walk into his room, immediately smacked in the face with his delicious scent.
I revel in it for a moment, letting it cocoon me like a soft blanket.
To my left, I see a bright white bathroom with black honeycomb tiles on the floor.
In the back of the bathroom is a generous glass shower, making me yearn for the hot shower I’ve been promised.
The idea of washing away all traces of today from my body sounds fantastic.
Axel’s hand softly lands on the small of my back, making me almost purr at the connection. No, stop. Remember the deal, my inner voice snarls at me.
Honestly, who are we kidding? For some reason, Axel and I are always being pulled to each other, whether we like it or not.
I don’t understand it, but just having him near makes me feel whole, as if nothing and no one could harm me.
Axel’s gentle touch burns my back as he guides me further into the room.
He doesn’t look at me, but the small tick of his jaw lets me know he isn’t unaffected by this moment, either.
The intense energy between us is almost palpable, sending lightning through my body at his slight touch.
Light gray walls and black leather furniture adorn the room.
The space is well put together but not at all what I expected.
A twinge of guilt fills my chest at the realization that I’ve judged Axel based on the fact that he’s a biker.
I thought I’d be walking into a gross, thrown-together dorm room, but instead, I stand in the center of a lavish apartment.
Axel’s bed sits at the far wall of the room, its grand black leather headboard and ginormous size taking up most of the space. All the bedding is black, like his furniture. The only hint that this room is Axel’s is his boots by the front door and the motorcycle magazines on the bedside table.
“Is black your favorite color?” I ask, still snooping around the room.
“Prince’s ol’ lady was a part of renovating the club house. She wanted everything to look nice but also feel like it was ours.” He says, eyeing me from where he stands. Axel watches me cautiously and I wonder if that’s because I’m in his space or because he thinks I might fall apart.
That makes a lot of sense. Everything is so organized and orderly; you can tell that the space was well designed.
I instantly feel relaxed in this room; the comfort of Axel is everywhere, and it’s a welcome reprieve from the evening.
Masculinity and control—exactly the two words I would use to describe Axel’s style.
The shrill sound of Axel’s ringtone slices through the silence like a sharp knife.
He gives me a wary look before pulling his phone out of his pocket.
I decide to walk toward the window on the other side of the room to give him space.
Glancing back at Axel, I note how tight his jaw is clenched and how intense his focus is on the screen.
Part of me wants to ask him what’s wrong but I know I probably won’t be able to handle any more bad news tonight.
I turn back to look out the window. It’s dark, and I can’t really make much out except for the moderately sized rectangular patio that sits behind the clubhouse.
I spot some of the members out around a fire pit, lost in conversation.
Others sit at one of the picnic benches, smoking.
Even from up here, I can feel the tense energy everyone is carrying.
I sense the moment Axel comes up behind me, as if my body seeks his out.
I feel his feather-light touch brush my hair back as he slowly leaves a trail of soft kisses from my shoulder to my ear.
Lightning once again strikes through my body, and I force the moan threatening to escape my throat back down.
“I have to make a call. Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll set out a towel for you,” he says as he intertwines his fingers with mine and leads me to the bathroom.
I move with him, our bodies moving in sync, when I realize I only have my purse, which is filled with cash, mints, and my phone.
“Wait, I have nothing to wear.” Looking down at the large sweatshirt that Cal gave me and heels, it’s clear I wasn’t expecting an impromptu sleepover tonight.
Without missing a beat, Axel walks over to the tall dresser next to his bed and grabs a white t-shirt.
He hands me the shirt and kisses the top of my head as if he’s done it a million times before.
He’s being so sweet with me right now, and I can’t help but swoon a little.
I love this side of Axel, the man only I get to see.
“Go.” He turns me by the shoulders and gives me a quick pat on my butt. I shiver at his gruff voice, and my core clenches as his hand kneads my backside for a swift moment before he’s gone.
I walk into the bathroom, close the door behind me, and lean my back against the cool wood before remembering why I came in here.
I glance at the mirror as I walk to the shower, expecting to see myself, but the woman looking back at me is one I don’t recognize.
I stop and confront my reflection; my face is pale, and dark circles have formed around my bloodshot eyes.
I could seriously use a makeup wipe and about ten hours of sleep.
Pulling Cal’s sweater over my head and shimmying my tight dress down my body, I examine the bathroom.
There’s nothing on the counters, and the black towels are perfectly folded and draped on the towel rack next to the sliding glass door.
It is sparse, just like the bedroom. Axel could leave tomorrow, and no one would ever know he lived here.
Sliding the large shower door open, I notice the rectangular shower head is mounted directly in the center of the ceiling. A rainfall shower. In this moment, I’m extremely grateful Axel had me stay. This is going to be glorious.
Stepping onto the matte black tiles, my feet relish in the amazing feeling of the heated floor underneath them.
The handle for the shower is placed on the back wall.
The moment I turn it on, the room fills with warm steam, and a downpour of water falls from the ceiling.
Heaven is a word that comes to mind. I wish I could truly enjoy this moment, but the anxiety and panic from today still courses through me.
I feel nauseous and gross. I move so that the water is perfectly overhead, bowing my head so the hot water sears my scalp and neck.
I can instantly tell the water temperature is too high, but I feel like I need it to be scalding.
I want to fry the violence and grimy feeling of today off my body.
“Jesus, babe!”
I nearly jump out of my skin at Axel’s voice.
I’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed him come in.
Opening my eyes, I catch sight of his perfectly toned, extremely naked body reaching over to the handle on the wall.
I barely register the temperature change as I stare at the large tattoo that covers his back.
A black-and-white skull sits in the center, flanked with long black wings that start from right below his shoulder blades and land at his hips.
The wings look as if they’ve been singed by flames.
Across the top of his back, the words Hell Chasers stand out in bold lettering.
Across the bottom, in the same style, reads Till Death.
My gaze travels over his body, memorizing every delicious piece of him.
His toned, olive skin glistens in the steam, my body tingles with need.
This man doesn’t even have to touch me, and I’m putty in his hands.
Glancing over his shoulder, he catches me staring, awestruck by his godlike form.
My brain tells me to look away and stop being so creepy, but my body decides against it.
“Did that hurt?” I say in a breathy voice.
Maybe he’ll think my staring is purely innocent interest instead of horny lust. Axel walks past me, grabbing the bottle of shampoo from a square built-in shelf on the wall.
When he turns back, he’s squeezing some into his hand.
Slowly, he massages the thick liquid between his fingers.
The motion seems so sexually charged that I think I’m starting to go insane.
He’s just rubbing shampoo between his fingers. I mean, honestly, Jenna, get a grip.
“Hurt like a bitch, but I was so drunk I really only felt the pain the next morning,” he says in a dangerously sexy voice.