Page 30 of Puck Tease
"Jax, I can walk. It's not far."
He stopped, turning slowly. Under the harsh security light, his eyes were shadowed, unreadable.
"Get in the truck, Tom." His voice was low, laced with an unmistakable warning.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not done with you."
My heart skipped a beat, then hammered against my ribs. "You... we just..."
"That was just the warm-up," he said, a glint in his eye. He pressed the unlock button on his key fob, the truck's lights flashing in the distance. "I'm still wired. And you still have a mouth."
He opened the passenger door, gesturing for me to get in.
"Besides," he added, his gaze dropping to my neck where the hoodie had slipped, revealing the angry red mark. "I want to see what that mark looks like under the streetlights."
I climbed into the truck. The leather seat was cold against my bare skin.
Jax climbed into the driver's side. He started the engine, the rumble a deep thrum in the quiet night. He didn't drive immediately. He reached across the console, his fingers hooking under the collar of my hoodie, pulling it down to expose my shoulder.
He looked at the bite, his gaze intense. He ran his thumb over it again, pressing hard, testing the tenderness.
I winced, a sharp intake of breath.
"Yeah," he murmured, a satisfied sound. "That's going to turn purple by tomorrow."
He smiled. A genuine, terrifying smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I can't wait to see you try to hide that in class."
He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the lot, leaving the silent arena behind.
I sat back, my fingers tracing the throbbing mark on my neck. It hurt, a persistent ache. It was going to be impossible to explain, to conceal.
But as I looked at Jax, one hand resting casually on the wheel, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights, looking calm and utterly possessed... I didn't want to hide it.
I wanted everyone to see it. I wanted them to know.
I was collateral damage. And I was his.
???
We got back to the apartment twenty minutes later. The drive had been silent, charged with the same crackling electricity that always hummed between us now.
Jax parked the truck, killed the engine. We walked up the stairs, the sound of our footsteps heavy in the quiet building.
He unlocked the door, the click echoing in the small space.
The moment we were inside, the dynamic shifted again. The public risk was gone. We were back in the cage, the world outside receding.
Jax locked the door with a decisive turn of the deadbolt. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter with a clatter.
He turned to me, his gaze unwavering.
"Bedroom," he said, his voice devoid of inflection. "Now."
"Jax, I'm exhausted. My legs are shaking." My voice was a weak protest.
