23. JAX
JAX
Olivia looked up at me with wide, shocky eyes. There was a question on her lips—those swollen, perfect fucking lips. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get hard again. The deviant in me was fed but not satisfied. Not after that.
He’d had a taste of something more. Sharp commands and a hot, willing mouth. Being watched. Being devoured.
I was twitching again, firming up.
Olivia made a small sound from between my knees. “No way.”
I chuckled. My eyes burned from exhaustion, but when the body was willing, it was fucking on. I reached up to scrub my eyes. The vision of Madoc was still imprinted behind my lids.
I knew he hated being exposed. And even though I’d been the one with my pants down—literally—he’d revealed a part of himself that he wished didn’t exist.
The part of him that wanted. That felt things. That yearned for something more than just existing.
That was the part of him I’d never been able to reach. Even in the spaces we’d carved out together over the years, he’d never give in first. It made me want to chase him down and tackle him. I wanted to punch him, then take him apart, layer by layer, just to prove I could.
Just to prove we wouldn’t fucking die.
Olivia shifted, and my eyes snapped down to her. She looked upset. Rightfully so. I was being a fucking asshole.
“Come here.”
Ignoring the pain in my side, I bent over and picked her up from the floor. She squeaked like a mouse when I folded her onto my lap. Then she clung to me, her face pressed to my shoulder.
“Oh my god,” she breathed into my skin.
“Still with me, princess?”
“No,” she said. A breathless giggle escaped her. “Nope. I died. I’m dead.”
Something in my chest twisted. I came so hard, I probably pulled something.
Yeah, that was it.
Olivia trembled in my lap. One of her hands was slotted between her thighs, like she was cold. Or going into shock. I frowned and looked at her again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her reply was too quick.
I squeezed her, forcing her to look up. There was a deep flush on her cheeks. A glassy look in her eyes.
“Ignore me,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“Tell that to your face.”
“Shut up.”
I frowned at her. The attitude was back. But she was still shaking.
“I’m just…” she started, then groaned. “Nothing.”
It took a stupidly long time for my brain to catch on. Dickhead. She shivered again, then narrowed her eyes when she spotted my grin.
“You’re turned on.”
She scoffed. “I am not.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I parted her knees, then dragged my hand down between her thighs. She tried to bat me away, but we both knew it was a half-hearted effort.
The moment I touched her, she gasped and shuddered.
“J-Jax.”
“Shh. I got you.”
I slipped my finger beneath the flimsy material and pressed her where she was hot and throbbing. She shuddered and pressed her hips closer, grinding on me while hiding her face beneath my jaw.
I wasn’t accepting that.
Without warning, I dropped backward, taking her with me. At the last second, I gave her a quick upward thrust, sending her squealing onto my chest. She landed astride me, her hands gripping my shoulders for balance.
“W-What are you doing?”
“My turn.”
I lifted her up, causing her to yelp, and planted her over my face. She squirmed instantly, so I held her tighter, refusing to let her go.
Then I pressed my tongue flat against her. She froze, then trembled.
“Ohhh,” she breathed.
I gripped her thighs and opened her up. She was so fucking wet, so close already. I ignored the ache in my lungs as I suffocated myself on her pussy.
She gasped, these little punches of sound that I committed to memory. Her thighs trembled. Her fingers clawed at the pillow on either side of my head. Her hips moved, trying to rock into my mouth, but I held her down and plunged my tongue hard and deep. God, she tasted so sweet.
Just when I brought her to the brink, I stopped. She gasped and stared down at me. “Why did you stop?”
“Give me something.”
Her lips parted in a shaky gasp. “What do you want?”
I gripped her thighs and flicked my tongue across her. She shuddered, then whined in frustration when I pulled back again.
That perfect anger was sparking.
“Let go,” I growled.
She shook her head, confused. “I am.”
“Liar.” I gave her another teasing lick. Her thighs twitched. She grabbed onto my shoulders, nails digging in, anchoring herself.
“I can do this all fucking night,” I told her, watching her head roll back. She glared up at the ceiling, her tits heaving.
“Screw you, Jax.”
She looked down again, and I finally saw it. That anger. That vicious, brutal, blistering anger that had once ended with me nursing a split lip and a black eye. The princess wasn’t as sweet as she pretended to be. She wasn’t as delicate. She wasn’t soft.
Her eyes darkened, her nails drawing blood. Then she reached for my head and fisted my hair, using it to shove my face between her thighs.
I dove in.
She rode my face hard. She didn’t hold back. She moaned as I sucked her, the sound broken like she’d tried to hold it back.
Not on my fucking face.
“I hate you!” She gasped, right on the edge again. “Fuck, I hate you so much. I hate. Everything. About. You.”
Part of her probably did. This was the real side of her, raw and exposed to me. All the bullshit secrets and lies, the distrust, it all boiled down to this.
Her. Me.
I punished her with my mouth, and she gripped my hair so hard that I felt it behind my eyes. Then she came. Loudly. Her legs trembled, then locked on my head. She cried and squirmed, pressing harder, moaning so loud, I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a noise complaint.
I licked at her hood until she was almost sobbing. She shuddered through the aftershocks, and I tortured her until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“God, stop…”
She collapsed beside me, boneless. I wiped my mouth on the pillowcase as she panted. A sound like a giggle broke free. She was cum-drunk.
“Oh my god.”
She slapped her hands over her face. Just like that, the princess had returned.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, craning her head to look over me. “How are you ready to go again?”
“I’m hot-blooded.”
“No kidding.”
I rolled over and pinched her thigh. She squirmed, trying to kick me. She stopped when she remembered my many stab wounds.
Reality was a real cockblock.
Sighing, I lifted her again and draped her across my chest. She went easily and hitched her leg over my stomach. Then she pressed a button near my head that shut off the lights.
Fucking bliss.
I reached down and patted her gently, searching for injuries. When I touched her ankle, she flinched.
“Feet?”
“Yeah, but it’s not too bad. I’ve had worse blisters when breaking in new shoes.”
My eyes shuddered close.
I listened to her fussing for a moment, adjusting, watching me. Then, finally, she settled. Her finger drew patterns absently on my chest.
That was never a good sign.
In the past, this was the part where I’d jump ship. Before the silence got too heavy, before questions were asked, before demands were made. I didn’t sleep with people. I was way too paranoid for that.
Without opening my eyes, I caught her hand. “Stop thinking so much.”
“I’m not.”
I released her. A moment later, the drawing continued.
I decided to let it be.
Just when I started to sink fully into what was likely a concussion-fueled nap, she whispered my name.
“Jax.”
“Yeah?”
She hesitated.
“Spit it out, princess.”
Her finger stalled over my heart. “You were never going to give the prototype to Preacher, were you?”
My eyes snapped open.
Sensing the mood shift, she sat up and hugged her knees. Her eyes were bright and wet in the dark.
My default was to lie. Deny it. I opened my mouth, deception locked and loaded on my tongue.
A tear slipped from her eye.
She was quick to catch it. Swipe it aside like it never happened. But it made that stupid muscle in my chest twist again.
“No,” I admitted roughly. “I was never going to give it to him.”
She nodded, unsurprised.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her ankle. Even her pulse felt sad.
She took a shaky breath. “That’s why I’m here, Jax.”
“What do you mean?”
“Preacher knows,” she said. Her pulse jumped as she glanced at my face. “Or at least, he suspects that you planned to steal it for yourself. That’s why he sent me. He knew I’d make sure—that I’d—”
“Betray me?”
Her face shuddered. She tugged on her foot, but I refused to let her go. If I couldn’t run, neither could she.
“He knew I’d do whatever it takes to protect Molly,” she said, swallowing. “Even if it meant stealing it from you.”
There it was. The fucking punchline.
I knew it had been too good to be true. She was too good to be true.
I waited for the anger to come. It was usually right there, under the surface, ready to boil over.
Except…
“Are you angry?” she asked me, genuinely confused by my lack of reaction. Instead of blowing up like I usually did, I stayed silent.
My thumb circled her ankle bone absently.
“Jax?”
“I’m not angry,” I said, surprised to find it was true. I was tired. Sore. Still fucking horny. But for once, the anger was absent.
Naturally, that made her suspicious. “Why not?” she asked, then kicked at my hand when my fingers tickled her calf. “Stop that. Why are you not angry?”
“I could have brain damage.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No. If you’re not angry, it’s because you did something worse. Or you’re planning something worse. Which one is it?”
I exhaled. Savored my last shred of fucking peace. “The second one,” I said tiredly.
Her breath hitched.
I rolled my head toward her. “Preacher isn’t getting that prototype, princess.”
“He has to.”
“No,” I said, my voice dropping. Real talk. “What I have to do is protect my crew. Preacher is a bad guy, Olivia. He puts on the act, he plays the saint, but he is evil to his core.”
Her face tightened, but something flashed in her eyes. Agreement, or resignation.
“So what?” she demanded. “You’ll use the SKS to go into hiding?”
I shook my head. “You can’t hide from these guys. They own the world. The only way to beat them is to play ball.”
Her brow furrowed. “Play ball? You mean sell the SKS yourself?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t do that. Jax—”
I yanked hard on her ankle, so she tipped onto her back. Then I rolled on top of her. “Listen,” I said.
Her hand smacked across my face. “Get off me!”
“No.” I caught her next hit and pinned her hands by her head. My ribs burned as I used my body to hold her down. “Stop. Listen to me. For once. I am going to sell it—”
“You fucker—”
“And I’m going to take the money, and I’m going to use it.”
“Use it how?” she snarled. Even in the dark, I could see the angry flush spread across her face. “You going to blow it all on booze? Drugs? Hookers?”
“Maybe,” I said, unable to help myself. Her anger was my greatest addiction. I took a big hit, even if her knee was thrusting dangerously close to my balls. “And when I’m done with the drinking, snorting, and fucking, I’m going to use the money to bring them all down.”
She went completely still underneath me. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I pressed my nose against hers, hard enough to make her go cross-eyed. “I’m done being a puppet, princess. I want to start pulling the fucking strings.”
Olivia shivered, her mouth parting softly in shock. I leaned back to look at her. I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t try to bite me.
Then she blinked, and more tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She tried to reclaim her hands to hide them, but I didn’t let her.
I wanted her to feel it. Hell, maybe I needed to feel it, too.
“If Preacher doesn’t get the prototype,” she whispered tearfully, “he will throw Molly to the sharks.”
“Not if we keep the sharks fed.” I dipped down and kissed her tears. More immediately followed. The dam was broken. “One day, Preacher will ask something of you that will make you cross too many lines. There’s no coming back from that. You need to fight him. Take back your fucking independence.”
Eyes glistening, she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You can. Look at what you’ve done already.”
Her mouth pursed doubtfully, not believing me.
Fuck it.
I leaned down and kissed her. She was stiff at first, shocked, too sad. Then she opened her mouth, and I tasted her. And myself.
I was wrong—this was my addiction.
I pulled back, just enough to bite her bottom lip. Her eyes flared at the sting, alert.
“No more secrets,” I growled. “No more fucking lies. You work with me. Only me.” I butted my nose against hers. “When we land in Zurich, I have another buyer lined up. Cal is already there, keeping him happy. You call Molly, you tell her to go to the address I give you. Zola will meet her there.”
Olivia shuddered. “Jax.”
“No more running,” I blazed on. “I’m trusting you.”
Don’t make me regret it.
More tears slipped out. I rolled onto my side and pulled her into my chest. I held her as she sobbed.
“It’s a pipedream,” she whispered wetly against my skin. “We can’t take on the world, Jax.”
“We can burn it down trying.”