Chapter Eighteen
Jax
I pulled up to Estelle's apartment two hours before our reservation, turning off the Bentley and checking my reflection in the rearview mirror.
I adjusted the gun in the back of my waistband, the weight of it familiar. It was a reminder that I was powerful and always prepared to protect what was mine.
And Estelle was definitely mine.
Punctuality had never been my thing—I prided myself on being fashionably late to everything.
But with Estelle, different rules applied. Different obsessions ruled.
I wanted every second I could steal with her, especially if it meant watching her get ready, seeing her in various states of undress.
The garment bag and shoe box on my passenger seat contained everything she'd need tonight.
The dress was a dark emerald Dior with a high slit, elegant enough for the restaurant I'd reserved, revealing enough to satisfy the possessive hunger consuming me.
The Louboutins, though, were pure indulgence with red soles that would flash with every step, a mark of ownership only I would truly appreciate.
I grabbed the packages, running my free hand through my styled hair. I'd shaved carefully, worn a midnight blue suit, understated but expensive.
The silver tie clip matched the necklace box hidden in my pocket—a delicate silver chain with a“J” pendant that would rest in the hollow of her throat.
A subtle claim, a refined collar.
A wordless way of telling the world she was mine .
When I reached her door, I took a deep breath, steadying the urge to simply kick it in and steal away what was already mine. Instead, I knocked, three measured taps that betrayed none of the adrenaline racing beneath my skin.
Leo answered after a minute, his small face lighting up. “Mr. Lion! You're really early, I think.”
I crouched to his level, balancing the packages in one arm. “That was the plan, but I couldn't wait to see you and your aunt.” I ruffled his hair, pleased by his enthusiasm. “You excited for your sleepover with Avery?”
He nodded vigorously. “We're gonna build a fort and watch dinosaur movies, and Elle said we could have real dessert.”
“Sounds like the perfect night,” I agreed, glancing past him into the apartment. “Is your aunt around?”
“Leo? You know can't open the door!” Estelle's voice called from inside, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.
She appeared in the hallway, and my dick immediately hardened like a little— big —fucker.
She was wrapped in a threadbare robe, her hair piled damp on top of her head, face bare of makeup. She thought she still had two more hours to get ready .
She froze when she saw me, eyes widening between panic and mortification.
“Jax,” she breathed, one hand clutching the collar of her robe tighter. “You're... early.”
I straightened, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, damp hairline, and the delicate curve of her collarbones visible above the robe.
She'd never looked more beautiful than she did right now; the urge to touch her was overwhelming.
“I couldn't wait,” I greeted, stepping inside. “Hope that’s okay, princess?
“I'm not ready,” she stammered, backing up a step as I advanced. “I just showered, I haven't even decided what to wear?—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted, setting the packages down and moving closer. “We have time. And I brought you something.”
Her eyes darted to the garment bag suspiciously. “You brought me... clothes?”
I unzipped the bag slowly, watching her face.
The dress unfurled like liquid silk. It was a dark emerald fabric with delicate straps and a sweetheart neckline that would frame her small breasts perfectly. I saw the moment girl-like awe overcame her wariness.
“It's beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the fabric before drawing her hand back quickly. “But I can't accept something like this. It must have cost--”
“Nothing,” I cut in, moving closer. “Nothing close to what you’re worth, Estelle. Let me do this for you.”
It had cost a little over ten grand, but that was nothing for my perfect princess.
She hesitated, one arm wrapped around her waist in a self-protective gesture.
“Why?”
The question was loaded with a lifetime of experiences that had taught her nothing came free .
“Because I want to,” I answered, voice dropping lower. “Because seeing you happy makes me happy. Because I've thought about nothing but you since I first saw you in that classroom.”
Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching.
I thought she might refuse, might cling to that fierce independence that both frustrated and fascinated me. Then Leo appeared beside her, looking up at the dress with wide eyes.
“Wow,” he breathed. “You're gonna look like a princess, Elle.”
A smile tugged at her lips, and she ruffled his hair affectionately. “You think so?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “The prettiest princess ever.”
She laughed, the sound warming my chest, and turned back to me with a softened expression. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Jax. I'll wear it.”
Victory surged through me, primal and sweet. “Perfect. Now finish getting ready, princess. I'll keep Leo company.”
She took the dress from my hands, and I had to resist pulling her against me and ripping that robe open.
“I'll be quick,” she promised, retreating toward her bedroom.
“Take your time,” I called after her. “We've got all night.”
All night, and every night after.
I settled on the couch with Leo, giving the dinosaur expert my full attention.
I was more than happy to be part of this little guy’s life as his paternal figure. I’d do it well, too; my own father had taught me how to be the best, after all.
“So tell me more about these dinosaur movies,” I requested. He launched into an enthusiastic explanation of velociraptors, which I readily engaged in.
An hour later, I heard movement from the bathroom, the soft pad of bare feet, the rustle of fabric. My body tensed in anticipation, every sense heightened as I listened to her getting ready.
Then I heard it—a sharp crash followed by a muffled curse that made my lips twitch with amusement .
"Estelle?" I called, already rising from the couch. "You okay, princess?"
Silence. Then another smaller crash, like she was trying to clean up whatever she'd knocked over.
I was at the bathroom door before I could stop myself, the need to check on her overriding everything else. "Estelle?"
"I'm fine!" Her voice was strained, breathless. "Just... give me a minute."
Like hell. I could hear her struggling, could practically feel her frustration through the thin door. The protective instinct that had been simmering all day roared to life.
"Open the door," I ordered, voice dropping to that commanding tone that usually made people obey without question.
"I said I'm fine, Jax. I just need?—"
Another crash, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a whimper of frustration.
That was it.
"Open the door, now."
There was a long pause. Then the lock clicked.
The door swung open, and the sight that greeted me nearly brought me to my knees.
Estelle stood there facing me, looking flushed all down her neck, and beneath the emerald silk. Her hair was still damp, half-pinned, half-falling around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, darting between embarrassment and something that looked suspiciously like panic.
Behind her, the tiny bathroom looked like a war zone. Bottles were scattered across the counter and the floor. A small mirror lay face down on the tile, thankfully unbroken. Brushes rolled in the sink.
But it was the dress that stole my breath.
The emerald silk hung perfectly from the front, highlighting her delicate neck, the gentle swell of her breasts, and skimming perfectly over her body.
But from where I stood, I could see it gaping completely open down her back, the zipper at the bottom, revealing an expanse of skin that made my hands shake with the need to touch.
"I couldn't reach the zipper," she admitted, voice small and mortified. "And when I tried, I knocked everything over, and then I tried to clean it up, but I couldn't bend over properly in this dress, and?—"
“It’s alright, princess," I soothed, stepping into the cramped space.
The bathroom was barely big enough for one person, let alone my large frame, and suddenly we were close enough to smell her hair, to feel the heat radiating from her flushed skin.
My cock instantly hardened again—at her vulnerability, at the way she looked up at me with those eyes wide and almost trusting despite her embarrassment.
"I can do it myself," she said quickly, seeing the look in my eyes. "I just need to figure out how to?—"
"Turn around," I commanded softly.
She hesitated, that stubborn independence flaring. "Jax, I don't need?—"
"Turn. Around." Each word was deliberate, leaving no room for argument.
When she didn't move, I made the decision for her. My hands found her bare shoulders and spun her to face away from me.
The breath left my lungs in a rush all over again.
The dress hung completely open, revealing the entire length of her spine, the gentle curve of her waist, and the way her frame moved with each shallow breath.
She wasn't wearing a bra, couldn't with this dress, and the knowledge that only a thin layer of silk separated me from her bare breasts sent fire through my veins.
"Hold your hair up," I murmured.
She gathered the damp strands in her hands, lifting them to expose the nape of her neck. The gesture was so trusting, so vulnerable, that our possession flared in my chest.
The delicate curve where her neck met her shoulders, the soft skin that looked like honey in the harsh bathroom light—I wanted to press my lips there, to mark her, to make her mine in every way possible.
My cock was throbbing against my pants now, the need to touch her so intense it was painful. But Leo was in the living room, so I had to maintain some semblance of control.
I stepped closer, close enough that my chest almost brushed her back, and reached for the zipper.