Page 32 of Louder Than Words

I tug on his sleeve. He releases my ponytails immediately as I grab his hand and practically drag him down the hall. My eyes lock onto the nearest door, and at this point I don’t care what it is. Closet. Bathroom. Whatever, as long as it has hinges and can shut.

I grab the handle and fling it open—

“Oh my god!” I slap a hand over my mouth.

Jax leans in to look, freezes, then shuts the door with a quiet click.

We stand there, stunned, while my brain continues buffering.

Jax explodes into laughter and takes my hand again, guiding me casually toward the exit while I’m still mentally rebooting from the fact that we just saw Alex and Angel.

In a closet.

Together.

My spiraling thoughts crash to a halt when I realize we’re already in front of the elevator. Jax turns to me, brushing the pad of his thumb along my lower lip—heat still simmering in his eyes like it never left.

And now, all I can think about is getting him upstairs and putting these cuffs to use.

15

Allie

I’ve never been more grateful for a long elevator ride.

Why is now that time? Because apparently I never realized how intoxicating it is to be touched in one. Especially when all around you are mirrors, forcing you to watch the ecstasy flash in both of your eyes with the thrill of possibly being caught.

Jax’s hand slides beneath the opening of my shirt, fingers tracing over my skin. I watch in the reflection, my heart thundering in my ears as he rolls my nipple between his fingers.

One thing I never fully appreciated about dating a guitarist? How damn talented they are with their fingers.

I’m already so close to the edge that when the elevator dings and he snaps his hand away, I nearly let the wordsthank youslip past my lips.

We waste no time racing to the door. My lips stay on Jax’s neck, kissing lightly as I not-so-patiently wait for him to unlock it.

I look up and see a smirk pull at his lips. “In a rush, love?”

My eyebrow quirks as I tilt my head, teasingly running my fingers along his already hard length through his pants. “You tell me.”

He finally gets the door open, and we stumble inside. We don’t bother with shoes, lights, or anything else before our lips crash into each other again.

My hands travel across his broad shoulders, feeling especially grateful that we decided to wear matching costumes tonight.

Because that means he’s in a jumpsuit.

The buttons pop off as I lower the suit all the way to his ankles, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs.

With a firm shove, he falls back against the mattress. My heart surges into my throat the moment I settle onto him, straddling his hips as his hands find my waist, pulling me closer until the friction nearly sends me over.Again.

I lightly drag my nails up his chest, watching his expression shift from want to absolute need. Then I gather his hands in mine and carefully press them above his head with a smirk.

He raises a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks as my other hand slips into the waistband of my skirt, pulling out the handcuffs.

Leaning in close to his ear, I whisper, “Are you gonna be a good boy?”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I slide my tongue along his earlobe, then pull it between my teeth and bite down gently.

He groans in response, and the way I feel him twitch beneath me gives me all the answer I need. I snap the cuffs around his wrists and secure them above his head.