Page 75 of Puck Tease
I turned slowly in his arms, facing him. Water streamed down our faces, blurring the edges of the marble bathroom.
"No," I whispered, the word barely audible. "You don't."
"Good. Because I deleted the backups too. There's nothing left."
His eyes, no longer lazy, searched mine, demanding an answer, a confirmation. They drilled into me, seeking the truth.
"So this..." He gestured with a slight tilt of his head between us. "This isn't a transaction anymore. You're not paying rent. You're not saving your scholarship."
"I know."
"So why are you here?" The question hung heavy in the air, a silent test. I felt the weight of it, the demand for a true, unfettered response. My breath caught in my chest.
"Because I want to be," I said, the words coming out stronger than I expected. "Because I love you."
Jax let out a long, slow breath, a sound that seemed to empty the last vestiges of tension from his body. His shoulders, which I hadn't realized were so rigid, visibly dropped, his features softening, smoothing out.
"I love you too," he said, his voice rough with emotion.
He kissed me. His lips were wet, hot, pressing hard against mine. It was a deep, consuming kiss that stole the air from my lungs, a hungry claim that left my head spinning.
Then, as always with Jax, the shift. A subtle tightening in his grip, a spark re-igniting in his eyes.
He pulled back, his gaze dropping, sweeping over my body.
"But just because the blackmail is gone," he growled, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh, "doesn't mean the rules change."
A familiar twitch stirred low in my cock. "No?"
"No," he confirmed, his voice dropping to a low purr. He squeezed my hips, a possessive demand. "You still belong to me. You still don't touch yourself. And you still take whatever I want to give you."
He smirked, a slow, wicked curve of his lips.
"Is that a problem?"
I met his gaze. The challenge in his eyes, the tilt of his head, the sheer arrogance of his stance—yet beneath it, a warmth, a deep-seated affection that pulsed through his grip on my hips.
"No, Sir," I whispered, the words slipping out without hesitation. "Not a problem."
"Good."
He twisted the faucet, cutting off the water.
"Dry off. Food's here."
???
Breakfast arrived in a flurry of silver domes and hot steam. We ate it in bed, naked, the scent of coffee and sizzling bacon filling the opulent suite.
We decimated the tray. Jax tore through stacks of pancakes, shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth with the speed and single-mindedness of a man who had not eaten in a week. He devoured half a steak, cutting it into large chunks and spearing them with his fork. I, meanwhile, picked slowly at a croissant, watching him, a faint smile on my lips.
His phone, a dark rectangle that had been silent and turned off since last night, sat on the nightstand, a stark contrast to the quiet morning.
"You should check it," I said, nodding towards the device. "The team is probably losing their minds."
"Let them lose their minds." He didn't even glance at it.
"Jax, you won the National Championship. Your agent is probably calling. The draft scouts, the media..."
