CHAPTER 26 #4
His answering smile was small but real, the tension in his body loosening like a weight lifting off him. He bowed his head until his forehead rested against mine, the gesture intimate and grounding.
Then his lips brushed my temple, soft and reverent, before tracing a slow path along my cheek and down the line of my jaw. Each touch felt like a thank you—for understanding, for staying.
When he reached the curve of my neck, he lingered there, breathing me in. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, the warm whisper of his breath ghosting over my skin.
Then, moving with quiet care, he turned me so I was facing away, gathering me against the solid expanse of his chest. His arms wrapped securely around my middle, holding me close in a cocoon of heat and safety.
He eased me back until the shower's stream flowed over my shoulders, cascading in soothing waves. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash over me as I leaned into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Before I could turn to see what he was doing, I felt him shift. One hand stayed at my stomach, steadying me, while the other reached for something, the faint scrape of soap against porcelain giving it away.
Jaxon's head dipped to my shoulder, his lips finding the curve where neck met skin. The trail of slow, deliberate kisses he left there spoke of tenderness and reconciliation, a quiet vow to bridge the space that grief had carved between us.
I trembled, warmth blooming through me that had nothing to do with the water. My hands found his where they rested on my body, tracing the strong lines of his fingers as he gently lathered the soap over my skin.
His touch was firm yet gentle, his movements unhurried and deliberate. Each stroke felt both cleansing and comforting, an act of care as much as desire.
The scent of cedar and citrus filled the steamy air, wrapping around us like memory. With each pass of his hands and each breath I took, the outside world faded further away until only the two of us remained—steady, present, whole.
I felt the tension gradually release from my muscles as his lips continued their tender path along my neck, each brush of skin against skin a reassurance that our connection remained intact despite the recent turmoil.
His hands moved across my stomach, my sides, my arms—washing away more than just the day's worries.
Once he seemed satisfied that I was thoroughly cleaned, and that he'd finished his exploration of my body, his hands cherishing and careful, Jaxon gently guided me back under the spray to rinse away the suds.
The warm water sluiced over my shoulders in a soothing cascade, carrying away the soap and leaving my skin tingling.
But as he reached to shut off the shower, my brow furrowed in confusion at the abrupt end to our peaceful moment.
Wait, what?
Jaxon met my gaze with a smile that was both smug and playful, a look I recognized but hadn't seen in days. He slipped past me, moving gracefully in the confined space despite his size, and stepped out to grab his towel from the rack, securing it around his waist.
Then he retrieved my towel from where I'd dropped it on the floor and wrapped it snugly around me, his movements gentle and deliberate.
At my questioning look, because I was definitely confused about why we were stopping, Jaxon chuckled. The sound was low and melodic, sending pleasant shivers down my spine.
His eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned in to capture my lips in a brief, tender kiss that conveyed genuine care despite its brevity.
"I told you I wanted to go slow," he murmured against my mouth, his voice smooth with a hint of teasing beneath the sincerity. "And if we stay here much longer, I'll break that promise."
His words carried a subtle warning, acknowledging the tension crackling between us while still honoring the boundaries he'd set. But my body was humming with awareness, my skin was hypersensitive from his touches, and going slow was the last thing on my mind.
"I'm fine with that," I replied steadily, a playful note creeping into my voice despite, or maybe because of, my nervousness.
Jaxon's eyebrows rose in surprise, his classic charming expression making my heart skip a beat. Amusement and restraint warred across his handsome face, that kind of control only making him more attractive.
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Jaxon's gaze held affectionate caution. "Tempting as that is, I don't want to rush this." He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom.
But I stopped just outside the doorway, my feet planted on the cool hardwood. My hand tightened around his, anchoring him in place before he could lead me farther down the hall.
"Is that for my benefit or for yours?" I asked quietly, the words emerging steadier than I felt inside.
Jaxon turned back to me, confusion flickering across his features. "What?"
I took a breath, gathering my courage. "The going slow thing. Is that for my benefit or for yours?" I held his gaze, refusing to let him look away. "Because if it's for mine… I want you, Jaxon. Right now, a week from now—it's not going to make a difference."
Jaxon froze, his entire body going still except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. His eyes searched mine with an intensity that made my breath catch, looking for doubt, hesitation, any sign that I didn't mean what I'd just said.
But I held his gaze, unflinching, letting him see the truth written plainly across my face.
"Anna…" His voice came out rough, strained. "I don't want you to feel like you have to—"
"I don't feel like I have to do anything," I interrupted gently, taking a step closer. The towel around my body brushed against his bare chest. "That's the point. For the first time in… God, in years, I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you."
Something shifted in his expression, a crack in his careful control, a glimpse of the raw need he'd been keeping locked down.
"I just…" He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I don't want to mess this up. You're too important."
Oh.
Understanding washed over me—soft and aching. This wasn't about protecting me from moving too fast. This was about his fear. Fear of betraying Nikki's memory. Fear of letting someone in again only to lose them. Fear of being vulnerable after years of holding everyone at arm's length.
"Jax," I whispered, reaching up to cup his face with my free hand. His stubble was rough beneath my palm, and he leaned almost imperceptibly into my touch. "You're not going to mess this up. And you're not betraying her by moving forward."
His eyes closed, a tremor running through him. "How did you—"
"Because I know you," I said softly. "And I know what it's like to be afraid of wanting something—someone—after everything."
When his eyes opened again, they were bright with unshed emotion. His hand came up to cover mine where it rested against his cheek, his fingers wrapping around mine.
"Are you sure?" The question was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything. All his fear, all his hope, all his desperate need for this to be real.
I nodded, my thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "I'm sure."
For a long moment, we just stood there in the hallway, the air between us charged with possibility. Then Jaxon moved, his hand sliding from mine to cup the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my damp hair.
"Say it again," he breathed, his forehead resting against mine.
"I want you," I whispered, my hands finding his bare chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my palms. "I want this. I want us."
The last thread of his restraint snapped.
His mouth found mine in a kiss that was different from all the others.
Deeper, more urgent, layered with promise and permission and a hunger that had been held at bay for too long.
I melted into him, my fingers splaying across the warm expanse of his chest, feeling every defined muscle beneath my touch.
Jaxon's arms banded around me, lifting me effortlessly off my feet. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried me back into my bedroom, our lips never breaking contact. The world tilted and spun, but his hold was secure, grounding me even as everything else fell away.
He laid me down on the bed with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity in his eyes, following me down until he was braced above me. The towel around my body had loosened in the movement, and his fingers found its edge, hovering there.
"Tell me if you want to stop," he said, his voice gravelly with restrained desire. "At any point, Anna—you tell me, and we stop. Okay?"
The fact that he was still giving me control, still making sure I felt safe even in the midst of this, made my chest ache with something too big to name.
"Okay," I breathed, reaching up to pull him back down to me.
The towel fell away completely as his lips found mine again, slower this time but no less intense. His kisses trailed from my mouth to my jaw, down the column of my throat where my pulse hammered wildly. Each touch of his lips felt like a brand, claiming me and worshipping me in equal measure.
"God, Anna," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and unsteady. "You're so beautiful."
Heat flooded through me at his words, at the reverence in his tone. My hands roamed across the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing the defined muscles of his back, learning the landscape of him through touch.
When his mouth found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, I gasped, my fingers digging into his skin. He smiled against my throat. I could feel the curve of his lips before continuing his exploration with maddening slowness.
His hands traced patterns on my skin. my sides, my hips, the curve of my waist, each touch deliberate and unhurried, as if he were memorizing every inch of me. When his palm skimmed up my ribcage to cup my breast, I arched into his touch with a gasp that made him groan low in his throat.