Page 38 of Raze
I check his room, knocking first and then letting myself in when he doesn’t answer. He’s the only one I would do this to because I know he wouldn’t mind. His bed is unmade, the sheets a tangled mess and half on the floor like he’d been caught up in a nightmare the last time he was in it. For some reason, it feels odd to see proof that he sleeps. He seems…superhuman.
When does he sleep? Aside from when a healing forces it on him. When was the last time I’d seen him eat anything?
A breeze sweeps through the room, and I hurry to the open window to look outside. “Jack?” I call out, searching around the yard and then up at the roofline. I can’t see anything from here, but I can feel it. In the way my heartrate picks up and the rush of adrenaline in knowing he’s nearby. Maybe it’s a sixth sense, or my other senses are picking up on him at a lower level than I can recognize.
Carefully, I crawl onto the window, twisting around to sit on it, and then stand while holding the top trim. I reach up to the edge of the roof, pushing to my tiptoes, as my fingertips swat at the roof. I strain harder when I finally feel the rough tile, but then my foot slips, and I drop.
A hand grabs mine above me, and I look up. Jackson smiles at me with that dimple and says, “You knew I’d catch you.”
“I knew.” Butterflies are having a field day in my stomach, and Ifeel a little weightless in my chest.
His smile grows. It would be pretty on his full lips if his eyes weren’t shining with wickedness. There’s something different about them tonight. Like the mask he wears to appear human and good is slipping, and I’m getting a glimpse of the monster underneath.
Air pushes under my feet to guide me up to him. His hand isn’t actually needed on mine, but he keeps hold of me anyway, even when my feet meet with the roof.
“What’s wrong?” His blue eyes search mine, and his body tenses. It’s like he’s preparing himself to attack whoever or whatever’s upset me just as soon as I give him a direction. Or a victim. Because they certainly wouldn’t survive him.
“Nothing,” I start, to which he angles his head to the side. “Nothing I want to talk about. Right now.”
Jackson stares at me—no,throughme, it seems—straight into my heart and soul until he finds whatever he’s looking for, and then he nods. “What do you need, little one?”
My cheeks heat at what I want to say, but also don’t want to admit. Does it sound stupid? Am I willing to tell him why I sought him out? That I’ve been drowning in my thoughts about Aiden and the Guild for the last day, and I can’t get my head above water.
Jack draws me close and strokes my face from my temple down to my jaw, then back up to push my hair behind my ear. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath of his fresh, fall scent. It hits me then how weird it is for me to compare his smell to autumn. To the smell of dead leaves. Would he be upset if he knew that was what I smelled when he was near?
“Say it,” he commands, and I feel compelled to do anything he asks when it sounds like that.
“You. I need you.” I hate feeling so vulnerable. Soexposed.
The unfiltered obsession in his gaze shines through. I realize it’s probably not healthy to want that amount of attention from anyone, but it’s too late for me now.
I could get addicted to that look. In fact, I might already be hooked.
He doesn’t need any further persuasion from me. His hand at my ear curls around to the base of my neck, sending tingles down my neck and body like pop rocks on my tongue, and his full lips take my breath away.
His kiss is languid but firm and coated in darkness. I couldn’t tell just from talking, but when he kisses me, I feel closer to him. The connection we have between us comes into focus when we kiss. I canfeelhim in a way that I couldn’t before. I feel the fine tremor in his hands that hold me. The overly-controlled ministrations of his mouth on mine.
It’s like he’s holding himself back, forcing his demons at bay.
I push his hood back, lacing my fingers through his obsidian locks and gripping tight. I yank his head back to stop the kiss. “You’re holding back,” I accuse him.
He smiles at me. Not sweetly or sarcastically. No, this one is sharp and dangerous. A smarter person would be afraid of him. But I’ve already come to accept that I have nothing to fear. Everyone else should run screaming. “I’m in a mood.”
Well, that’s an understatement.
“What happened?”
“I received another message from Thorne.” I release him and take half a step back, but Jackson pulls me back into him. “I’ll take care of it. It’s just taking me a minute to get it out of my head.” He kisses the side of my neck, and I instantly angle my head to grant him more access.
“What did it say?” I ask breathily.
“Nothing important,” he murmurs, sending a throb of desire between my thighs. His voice sounds a bit off when he says it, but I’m too distracted by his touch on my neck, and when I go to reach for the thought again, it slips through my fingers.
“I don’t know if I can hold myself back right now,” he admits.
My pulse accelerates. “Then don’t.”
There’s so much in his eyes when he looks at me; it would be impossible for me to pick out every single one.
