“Yeah, good idea.”
“But first this.” He turns to glare at the guys whistling. “Just so you fuckers know. She’s mine and if you lay one hand on her or even look at her the wrong way, I’ll beat the living fuck out of every single one of you.”
Nervous laughter fills the air, but from the way the group of freshmen are backing away from the side of the house, their voices lowering, it’s clear every drunk frat boy partying at my place has received Jaxon’s message loud and clear. Maybe they’re not so stupid after all.
He looks back at me. “I’m sorry, Rach. You don’t like violence, I get that, but no one is touching you when you’re with me, and no one is looking. I’m not sharing any part of you with those assholes, or anyone else.”
My heart pinches at his possessive behavior. Oddly enough, I’m not afraid this time. I actually feel cocooned in bubble of warmth and safety as he holds me close and displays the domineering side of him.
I shiver and he must mistake it for being cold. “Let’s get you inside and out of these wet clothes.” He takes the steps up to the back patio, and opens the sliding door. I quiver again when he sets the lock, blocking out the rest of the world.
“Warm shower?” he asks.
I run my fingers through my damp hair. I really could use a shower to wash the marinara out. “As long as the tap doesn’t come off and I end up with a cold one again,” I say, and give a nervous little laugh. I’m not sure why I suddenly feel so edgy. We had sex two nights ago, but it’s oddly weird how this feels different…a little more personal. Maybe it’s because of the fight. Maybe it brought us closer in some way.
Or maybe I’m just being ridiculous and reading more into this when I shouldn’t be.
This is sex, Rachel. Nothing more, nothing less.
He angles his head, like he can see right through me. “You okay?”
“I am,” I say, and inch up to kiss him on the mouth. We’re both breathless when we finally break apart and he sets me on the kitchen table.
“I fixed the tap today.” He steps back. “Arms up.”
I do as he says and he peels off my ugly brown T-shirt. Air rushes over my bare skin, and I tremble. Jaxon’s nostrils flare as I sit before him in my bra and pants. “You did?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want you taking any more cold showers.”
“So you were pretty sure that I was going to use your shower again, I take it.”
He grins. “Not really, but just in case.”
He reaches behind me to unlatch my bra. “Well, that was very thoughtful of you,” I say quietly.
His lids fall slowly, then lift again to reveal eyes that are just a little darker than before. “I don’t always think about myself, you know,” he informs me, but there is a teasing warmth behind his words, one that tells me the conversation has shifted to something a little more...intimate.
Truthfully though, he doesn’t have to tell me that he’s not selfish. I’ve seen him with his daughter, and he jumped to help me when my car broke down. “I know you don’t always think about yourself.”
His chin raises, and hungry blue eyes meet mine as he releases the button on my pants. “Sometimes I do, though. Sometimes I think only about myself.”
My nerves fire, come to life under his ravenous gaze. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
I wet my suddenly dry bottom lip. “So tell me, when you’re thinking about yourself, what exactly are you thinking about?”
He lifts me from the table, drops to his knees and drags my pants down my thighs. My entire body vibrates when the backs of his knuckles skate over my skin, his hairs abrading my flesh. He stands, and the rough pad of his thumb brushes my swollen clit through my panties.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking about this,” he says, and slides my panties down until my sex is exposed. He goes to his knees again, taps my leg and I lift both feet, one at a time, allowing him to remove the rest of my clothes.
“This?” I ask and arch my brows. “You might have to be more specific. This can refer to a number of things.”
He widens my sex with his fingers, and strokes my clit. “Right here, Rachel. I’ve been thinking about your hot pussy, and all the things I want to do with it.”
“O…ohh,” I say, shivers of need making it a bit hard to stay upright. I brace one hand on the table to keep myself vertical. He stands and I moan, my sex desperate for his touch. “I’ve also been thinking about this.” He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, then shoves it inside like he did the last time we were alone. I suck him in, swirl my tongue around the rough pad. Our eyes latch and lock, the heat between us tremendous.
He pulls out and his tortured, needy growl reaches my ears and urges me on. “You’ve been thinking about putting your thumb into my mouth again?” I tease.
“No. I want my cock in here,” he says, his words blunt, and unapologetic. “This mouth of yours is sinful and I want you to suck me off while I fuck it, Rachel. I want to be buried balls-fucking-deep in your throat when I shoot a load off.” His breathing changes, becomes labored, and his nostrils flare like he’s a bull ready for the stampede. “I want you to take me in, all of me, and I want you to swallow every fucking drop of my cum. Then I want
