CHAPTER TWELVE
I watch Jax walk away. When I got his text, I thought about not coming. He’s controlled this relationship for far too long. Teasing me, denying me, and confusing me. Still, when he says, I’m beautiful, damn if I don’t fall right for it. A part of me wants to believe that he’s interested in seeing where this goes, too.
He obviously doesn’t want anything to do with the woman he was talking to when I walked in the bar. That whole relationship seems more like a stalker syndrome to me. I heard what he said to her. I almost felt sorry for her, yet in the same instant, I wanted to scratch her eyes out when I saw them kissing. It’s not as if I have some kind of right to Jax. No matter how bad I want him, he doesn’t belong to me.
Tonight, though, I’m going to push him. Tonight, he will be mine.
Rusty comes up, carrying a few empty bottles. “Ew, Guinness. I hate when someone orders that, takes forever to pour.” I hear the glass clink as she drops the bottles behind the bar. She smiles at me then turns to Jax, who’s now at my side. “I’ll take over from here.”
“Thanks, Rusty,” Jax says and looks down at me. “Wanna stick around, watch the fight, and have another beer with me?”
“Sure,” I say, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere until I get what I want.
“Here ya go,” Rusty sets two beers on the bar. “It’s on the house.” She winks at me. “I don’t think the boss will mind.”
“Thanks.” I grab my beer and follow Jax into the back room. The music blares with the lights dimmed low all accept the ones over the cage where people gather around and shout for a winner. I don’t want to watch the fight. I don’t want to drink a beer. I want to start pushing. “So, Jax. What’s going on here?” He continues through the bar. “Jax.” I grab his arm.
“What?” He looks down at me from over his shoulder.
“What’s happening here?”
His eyebrows gather. “I thought we were gonna watch the fight.”
“No. What’s going on between you and me?”
“Em,” his head tilts as he turns to face me, “you know what’s going on here.”
“No. I don’t.” I gaze up at him. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
“You want to do this right now?” His forehead creases. “Do you need some kind of validation? Need a show, Em. You feel the need to show this entire room what’s happing here.”
“No.” I get he’s a reserved man, and he’s not about public display. “Just stop fucking with me, messing with my head, playing games. I don’t care who knows about us. All I want to know is what you want.”
“Fuck,” he throws a hand in the air and starts to walk away. Apparently, my push works, but it’s pushing him away!
“Jax!”
He turns and sets his beer on some random table he passes. A few long strides brings him back to me. He grabs my arms and pulls me against his hard body. “This is not how tonight was supposed to go down,” he rasps. “Just have a little patience, princess.”
“First, tell me what you want.” I lift my chin. “It’s an easy enough question to answer.” I throw his words back at him from the other night.
“What I want.” He bends down closer, eyes scanning my face as though he’s contemplating saying the answer. “Em,” he breathes out my name, hands tightening on my arms, “what I ever only wanted,” his mouth is now nearly touching mine, “is you.” He leans in and our lips finally meet. Everything around us stops. The shouting audience, the grunts and smacks coming from the cage, and the music, it all deafens. Even the blood in my veins still, all that exists is Jax’s unrestricted mouth on mine.
“Fuck, Em.” He pulls back from the kiss, eyes dark and unreadable. “Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and proceeds to pull me along with him to the back door.
“Where are we going?”
“To my place.” He yanks the door open.
“Why?”
“To fuck,” he says, voice hard as steel. Face determined. He struts down the hall pulling me along with him. I’m not about to argue. This is what I want. Still when we arrive at the door, my nerves start to claw from the inside out. He takes out his keys, unlocks the door, and guides me through the back way to his room. He lets go of my hand. I enter, dragging my damaged nerves with me. He follows behind, slamming the door closed. His hand lands on my chest. He pushes me. I hit the wall. His chest rises and falls as he gazes down at me.
He sets a hand on the wall to the left of me. “I was gonna do this right, Em.” He places his other hand to the right of me, trapping me. “We were gonna have a couple beers. I’d flirt with you, and I’d let you tease me, just as you’ve been doing for years. Then after we played your game, I’d bring you back here, and I’d go slow, taking what I want.” His hands slip to my shoulders. “But, now,” he grips my shirt. “Now, I’m going to take you the way I want.” He yanks my top down and gathers my shirt in his hands. It tightens around my waist, trapping my arms to my sides. With his other hand, he pulls my tits out of my bra. His palm slips beneath my heavy breast and his thumb runs gently over my dimpled flesh. Damn him and that precise thumb. “Now, we’re gonna play the way I like.” His hand flips up and the tips of his fingers strike my breast. Oh shit, I was not expecting that. I cry out from the sting and the surprising pleasure of it. “And when I get through with you,” he lightly taps my stinging nipple again, “not only will my mark be all over your beautiful body,” he grabs my chin, tilts my head back, and glares down at me, “it’ll also be deep inside of you.” He kisses me with the same aggression of his touch, and every part of me shakes with expectancy. His fingers pluck my sore nipple as he devours my lips, his hot tongue thrashing violently with mine.