Chapter Twenty-Eight
TWENTY-EIGHT
KYRA
Something changed the moment we walked inside the clubhouse.
The affectionate version of Jinx I got at Vanessa's shrank back into himself, and he shut off, his movements stiff and overthought by the time we reached his room.
My initial worry was that he didn't really want me here, but then, he was the one who suggested I stay the night, so that theory evaporated.
Leaving me to wonder what I said between then and now. What I did.
Why would Jinx take so much offense at my request to share his room?
There's only one thing we spoke about on the driveway that could have such an effect. And to think he, of all people, might be the type to see me as spoiled goods because of what I did fucking hurts.
It's not the first time a man's turned me down. Ghosted me and called whatever fledgling relationship we had quits because of my profession. In theory, why should Jinx be any different?
I guess I'd hoped that his chosen lifestyle would make him more… understanding. Open to the idea.
I suppose I guessed wrong.
My phone shows two missed calls and a message from my mother. I stare down at the notifications and wonder how the hell I'll explain what happened to her. If I ever will. Maybe Dad has already spun a lie to save her the worry. Perhaps he hasn't.
Maybe Jinx is the topic of conversation at the dinner table, my father spitting his hate for the club as he has so many times before.
I reply to Mom's message while Jinx showers in the room next door and tell her I'll be home in the morning.
That I'm okay. Switch it to silent for the night and stash my phone face down so I can be fully present when Jinx returns.
Vanessa's sweatshirt is cozy, but it's no good for sleeping, and I'd like to keep my clothes relatively clean to wear home tomorrow, so I go hunting.
Open the drawers of his bureau and see what I can find.
Like most males, there's little order to his clothes; items are thrown in and shoved into available space in the drawers.
I tug out a T-shirt from the bottom, figuring he's less likely to want to wear it himself and change, stripping away everything and leaving only his shirt covering me to just above mid-thigh.
The water shuts off as I climb into his bed and slide my legs under the covers, then wait.
And wait.
Ruminating over how things might be different if I'd just kept my mouth shut and pretended my dirty history didn't exist.
The bathroom door finally clicks open, Jinx's bare feet slapping the timber floor as he makes his way back into his room.
I stare at the dark window, tracking his reflection as he puts his clothes in a wash basket and comes to bed. In only his boxers. Honed muscles flexing as he tugs his side of the blanket back and lifts his leg to slip in beside me.
I don't blink. Don't look away from his reflection in case I miss something. Something I might never see again.
"Comfy enough?" he asks.
"Yeah. Thanks." My gaze drops to the nightstand.
"Let me know if you need anything."
Let me know if you need anything? The fuck? This is not how the one-bed scenario is supposed to play out. We're meant to brush our legs accidentally. He's supposed to sleepily drape his arm over me, press his hard dick into my ass, and pretend nothing is going on.
I don't give a fuck if I saw a man's dead body today. I don't care if eight hours ago I was held hostage. The marks on my wrists and ankles mean shit. I steered our night in this direction for a fucking reason.
And because I reminded him how I made the money that supported my move back here, I'm left lying with a gap between us that may as well be a fucking chasm for how it feels.
"Have I got this all wrong?" I ask, flopping onto my back.
He stares at me in the low light, facing me on his side. "I didn't want to push anything on you after the day you had."
"Cut the chivalry crap." I wriggle to my side to face him, too. "When a woman puts herself in your bed, she knows the implication."
His gaze drops to the pillow.
"You kissed me, Jinx."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" I all but shriek. "The hell are you sorry about? Did I not kiss you back? Did I give you any indication I don't want this?"
"Of course not. It's just…" He exhales, rolling to his back and setting an arm over his head.
"Just that other men have seen me naked and now I'm spoiled goods."
"No." He snaps the word, seemingly angry at my assumption. "It's not that. What you did doesn't bother me."
"Then what?" I study him in the dark, scared that if I blink, I might miss some cue that helps explain this for me.
"All I've ever wanted is you, Kyra," he says on a sigh. "But I never stopped to think about whether you might want me."
I push up onto one arm to stare down at his face. "I just said I did, didn't I?"
"All of me," he says, peeking at me before he looks away again. "And I don't mean the Kings of Anarchy shit."
"Are you talking about your father? Because I know he's an asshole." I drop a bitter laugh. "Newsflash. Mine is too. I know how to handle that."
"Valid point," he cedes, "But no, not my father."
"Then what? What is there about you that you think I can't handle?"
He rolls his head toward me, looking at me as though I'm the most precious thing he's seen, admiration soon turning to pain before he jerks upright to sit on the side of the bed, facing away. "Fuck, Kyra. Can we just have tonight?"
"There's not much having going on," I sass.
He sighs, hands gripping the edge of the bed harder. "You won't want me once you know, and I really want one night where I can pretend everything's okay before you leave."
What the hell is he talking about? I crawl across the bed to kneel behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He lets out a long, heavy breath, eventually bringing a hand up to rest on my forearm.
"I saw the consequences of crossing the Kings of Anarchy today," I softly remind him. "And it didn't scare me away knowing that you might one day do the same, and probably already have."
He sighs.
"Nothing about you has ever made me want to look away," I say quietly, nestling my head beside his.
"It never put me off that your family was part of this club.
It never put me off that you skipped school more than you attended.
That you didn't go to church as my family does.
Or that you swore, smoked, and drank before the legal age.
You broke so many rules and conventions, Matthew, and I never once cared, because all of it?
It was superficial," I say, placing a kiss on his neck.
"It wasn't the man beneath the mask. It wasn't you. "
He exhales heavily, turning his head away from my affection. "That guy beneath the mask is the problem, Kyra."
"How?" I press, squeezing him tighter. "Talk to me."
His fingers trace my bare arm, gently following the curves and dips.
He repeats the motion for a solid minute, back and forth, mapping my skin, before he takes me by the hand and tugs, coaxing me in front of him.
I gently step off the bed and stand before him.
Jinx. Matthew. Both of them. This wholesome conundrum begging to be loved, yet vehemently denying it when offered.
Eyes on mine, he sets his warm palms to the outside of my thighs and sweeps upward, beneath the hem of his T-shirt. He pauses at my hips, brow furrowing slightly as his thumbs trace higher, searching.
"I don't have anything on underneath," I confirm.
He audibly exhales through lightly pursed lips. "You weren't messing around, were you?"
"Still aren't."
I step forward, placing my legs on either side of his, and slide onto his lap using my hands around his neck to steady myself.
Jinx shifts his hands to my waist, his head dipped as he looks at the places where we touch, fingers tugging gently to lift the T-shirt to the absolute limit before he bares me to him.
It's been so long since I've had sex with anyone. That has to be the reason for my body's overreaction. Surely. Nobody has ever made me squirm from the promise of a touch. I've never felt this desperate, out of control, fucking rabid with the need to see this through.
Ever.
His gaze lifts to meet mine, and I lean forward to crush my mouth to his.
I don't give a fuck what he said. He wants this as much as I do, so why not indulge?
Why keep me at arm's length? He grasps my face in his hands, urging me with his lips to slow down, take it gentle, and relish our connection.
I let Jinx take the lead, but only because I want him to give in to what he wants, not push through discomfort purely to please me.
I break away to catch my breath and place my forehead to his, those strong hands still cupping my jaw as he shuffles his legs to balance me better.
"What you say makes no sense when you kiss me like that."
He swallows hard. "It will soon enough."
Fingertips walking down his chest, I follow their path with hooded eyes, tracing each firm ridge of muscle to where our bodies meet. He says nothing as I grab hold of the elastic band at the waist of his boxers, teasing the skin behind with the backs of my fingers.
"Why do you deny yourself?" I whisper.
He grabs my wrist to stall my hand. "Because I don't want to deny you."
"You're denying me now."
He releases me, allowing me to explore deeper, brushing the base of his cock. "Am I?" His brow moves against mine, and I pull back a little to find his eyes closed, a deep frown marring his beautiful face.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No." Jinx opens his eyes briefly to set his hand against the side of my neck. "But you should."
I lick my lips. Relish the spark in his eye when he watches the movement. Then set my free hand against his chest and push.
He collapses onto the bed, and I move with him, crawling up his perfectly sculpted body to sit astride his hips. The evidence of good times to come nestles perfectly between my thighs, the slightest twitch causing a rush of warmth to my core in response.
"Everyone always thought I was the good little girl," I purr, running my hands across his broad chest. "The lawman's daughter, who attended church every Sunday.
Never swore. Minded her Ps and Qs and abided by the rules.
" My fingers span the firm slope of muscle from his collarbones to his neck, and then down over the rounded caps of his shoulders to pronounced biceps.
"I bet you thought that about me, too. Thought I'd be too much of a good girl for you. "
He smirks, eyes still closed. "I thought you needed to be taken off the leash and given space to run free."
I smile, even though he can't see me. "And that's what I did, Jinx, while I was gone.
I discovered myself. The things I like," I say as I trace the waistband of his boxers with both hands, restricted by my weight.
"The things I wanted." I roll my hips. "The things I need.
" Thumb and forefinger either side of his jaw, I force his head back and lean down to lick a line up his throat.
He groans, hands clamping to my outer thighs to urge me to roll my hips again.
And yet, he doesn't seem fully turned on yet. At least, there's nothing uncomfortable beneath me to say he is.
"What do you need?" I whisper before tugging his earlobe between my teeth.
He frowns, as though the question is a painful one. "I don't know."
Clearly, playing the sex kitten doesn't work, so I switch tactics.
Jinx opens his eyes, a little confused when I slide off his body to lie beside him.
Leg hitched over his, I trace the contours of his body with a single fingertip, dropping my head to rest it on his arm.
Silence falls between us, Jinx eventually rolling his head back to face the ceiling, yet his eyes don't slip closed again.
Instead, he stares straight up, lacking any sign of emotion.
"I never thought I'd be enough for you," I admit, dropping the act to flay my heart open instead. "You were the total opposite of me: confident, loud, happy, and free. I always figured if I got a chance with you back then, I'd ruin your life."
"How the fuck would you have done that?" he murmurs, brow pinching slightly.
"Like I do now. By complicating things."
Jinx lifts his head, staring me dead in the eye. "You ain't ruining anything, darlin'. You make me come alive."
"Am I?" I glance down at his boxers.
He drops his head with a frustrated groan. "It's not you."
"It never is." My hand stalls on his chest.
He covers it with his. "Don't stop. Please."
I resume my exploration, yet the heat has slipped from the moment. Too many questions crowd my mind. Too much suspicion. Does he lie to me? Is there someone else I don't know about that he'd rather be with? Fuck. Does he have a crush on Vanessa? Is that why everything's so complicated?
My movements become robotic, and I only notice when Jinx sighs, lifting my hand off him. "Go to sleep, Kyra."
Like that's going to happen. "Not until you tell me what the issue is if it's not me."
"It's me," he snaps, moving away. "It's always fuckin' me."