Page 132 of The Never List
“Iknowevil men, Jax,” she cuts me off, the truth in her words only adding to my need to cut into the enforcer. “You are not one of them.”
“I am. I could be—”
“Then why did you choose me, Jax?” she snaps, herenergy swirling around the room with an intensity I swear I can feel against my skin. “Huh? If you were so determined to push me away, to keep me shut out like everyone else, then why—”
“I told you why. Ihadto.” It’s not a lie. That night… It’s as if she compelled me, some ancient magic that forced me to do its bidding.
“Bullshit,”she says, and I cock a brow at her tone. “You gave me a bullshit answer and you know it. Tell me the truth. You chose me for a reason, and now you’re punishing me for it. Why? Tell me why—”
“Because!” I throw my blades in the opposite direction until they snick perfectly into the walls. I stalk up to her, closing the distance between us again, not lowering my voice an inch. “The minute I heard your voice, the minute I sensed your emotions, you felt likemine.”
The second the truth leaves my lips, something breaks open inside me, and I’m no longer pulling myself away from her; I’m jerking her to me in a painful kiss that sears my soul.
Fuck, she tastes like cherries and whiskey as I sweep my tongue into her mouth possessively. She whimpers at the intensity, her body melting into mine as I haul her against me. Lightning streaks through my veins as I lift her off her feet without breaking our kiss, walking her back toward my desk.
She’s desperately clawing at the buttons on my shirt, so I lean back, peeling it off one arm at a time. Her eyes scan the tattoos inked over my skin, and I hiss as she traces the lines with her fingers. She’s close, so much closer than I’ve ever let anyone be before.
I pull another blade from a harness on my thigh and grip the lace of her top. “Hold still,” I demand, and she goes absolutely immobile. That shoots need straight through me, her obedience like a catalyst for the mounting desire thrumming through me.
I drag my blade expertly through the lace, not daring to touch an inch of her skin. The fabric flutters to the floor, leaving her in just a silver bra, her breasts spilling over the cups. I cut that off next, leaving her upper half bare.
I groan at the sight of her, slamming the blade into the desk behind her. A wild burst of desire floods her emotions as I do, and I almost fucking drop to my knees from the power of it.
Fates above, this woman was truly made for me.
I hesitate, taking my time to drink her in, studying which place I want to tease. She reaches for me, impatient, gripping the back of my neck and looking up at me with defiant, playful eyes.
“Please, Jax,” she sighs, then smiles in that slightly mad way that makes me a complete and utterfoolfor her.
I twist my fingers in her hair, tipping her head back so I can claim her mouth at a deeper angle. My other hand travels over her supple breasts, pinching her nipples until they’re rosy and peaked for me. She arches against me, moaning at the sting, before I drag my hand lower between her thighs.
“You want me to ruin you, butterfly?” I drag my lips from hers, cupping her heat over her shorts.
“Yes,” she begs, and goddess damn me, I want to slam into her so badly. But this has been months coming, and I’m not about to rush.
I tease my mouth over hers, just barely a brush of my lips, before I dip down and haul her over my shoulder. I smack her ass as I walk through a hidden door in the corner of my office.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks with excitement.
I grin as I step into the room, shutting the door behind us. “Haven’t you ever heard of the Nightmare’s playroom?”
40
Rylee
Jax sets me on my feet and steps back, allowing me to survey the room.
The walls are cushioned and black, and the only light comes from a chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling. There’s an armless chair in the corner, a bench right next to it, and tables lining the walls with all manner of whips and blades and other items I can’t make out. There’s a massive bed tucked against the farthest wall, and in the opposite corner hangs a pair of chains with cuffs on the end.
Anticipation flutters beneath my skin. So, this is where the Nightmare plays.
I turn back around to face him, feeling the tension roll off him in waves. Relief is an intoxicating thing; my mind is whirling from the truth I laid bare and his acceptance of it. But the fact that I chose him? That’s something he’s struggling with.
Even now, I can see the conflict in his eyes, can practically feel him thinking about pushing me away again. I hate that he thinks so little of himself, that his father has made him believe such lies about himself. But I’m prepared to fight for him as long and as hard as it takes.
“You’re alone with the Nightmare,” he says, steppinginto my space again. He inhales deeply, almost like he’s smelling me, but I know he’s not. He’s drinking in my emotions. His eyes darken. “You should fly away, butterfly.”
“Only if you promise to chase me,” I tease.
