Scandal:The Complete Series(75)

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“It means I’m too tired to fight you. I’d rather kiss you instead. I reserve the right to be mad at you off-and-on for a while.”

I barely finish my sentence before his mouth is on mine, soft and rough at the same time. He parts my lips with his tongue and then nips at my lower lip.

“I’ve wanted to bite you since our first date,” he says as he bites me a second time.

I rub my lip and then check my hand for signs of blood. “That hurt,” I say and it did, but I don’t fucking care. I wouldn’t care if he bit me everywhere, drawing blood out like a vampire.

“I’m hard as rock, you naughty girl,” he says with a grin.

“Shocker.”

“So what’s in the stars for me? Action or blue balls?”

“You’re a true romantic at heart,” I tease him.

“Hell, yeah,” he says, rubbing his crotch.

“Let’s go,” I say. “If you’re good, you might get some candy.”

“No,” he says, gripping my wrists to pin me back down on the chair as I start to get up.

“What do you want?” I say as I fall back.

“Here,” he growls. “I want you here.”

“Here?” I repeat, darting worried looks around the pool room. All I can see outside the large windows is complete darkness which means it’d be a piece of cake for anyone to watch us.

Jax follows my gaze. “I’ll draw the blinds and lock the doors,” he says. “It’s been forty-eight hours since I was inside that sweet little pussy and I’m not waiting a second longer.”

Great, I’m about to get fucked in a mob boss’s swimming pool. There must be hidden cameras everywhere. Someone could be watching us on a monitor right this second.

By the time Jax is done closing windows and locking doors, the idea has grown on me. Maybe it’s got something to do with the heat between my legs intensifying as my clit becomes a throbbing mess, images of Jax fucking me in the hot tub running wildly in my head.

He comes to me after he dims the lights but I can still catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Strip for me,” he says, lying back on the second lounge chair.

Okay, what? “I don’t exactly feel sexy enough for that,” I tell him. “I’ve been in the same clothes since yesterday.”

“Perfect,” he says. “I love the way you smell au naturel.”

Sweet goddesses, he’s not giving me an out. I guess I’ll have to put on a strip show for the hottest man in the world while someone’s planning to have me murdered. Cool. Distractions are welcome.

I get up to stand in front of him, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“Down to nothing,” he says, index finger pointing at my poor, wrinkly clothes.

Here we go. He’s probably had hundreds of women strip for him before and most of them were in better shape than me, working out diligently on a daily basis, not to mention a consistent tan. But Jaxson Cole didn’t love those women. Jaxson Cole loves me.

His eyes are locked on me as I bring my hands under the hem of my light blue shirt, slowly pulling it off to reveal my belly, my pink bra and my collarbones until it’s over my head and onto the tiled floor.

I take a peek at Jax’s face. His eyes burn with desire and something else I can’t quite put my finger on—concern or fear or maybe a combination of both. So many parts of me ache right now and I want to make it all right for both of us.

My fingers unbutton my jeans shorts and pull the zipper down. He watches my every move hungrily, like he’s never seen me take off my clothes before. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe it’s always been him undressing me. My mind’s too fuzzy to remember.

I hesitate for a second before I yank the shorts down and, fuck, I’m just realizing my white panties don’t match the pink bra. I should coordinate these things better if I am to be sexy and sassy and competing with all the hot professional models Jax is used to having around.

“What are you waiting for?” he says, bringing me back to planet Earth. “Take it all off or I will rip those wet panties off myself.”

“What? No! I don’t have another pair,” I protest.

“You won’t be the first girl to go commando,” he says, grinning.

I bring my hands to the clasp on the front of the bra and pull it open, letting my breasts spill out.

As my fingers dive for my panties, an unsettling thought enters my mind. What about Tanner Hayes? Carter said Tanner would be my shadow. Could he be watching me somehow?

I dart my eyes left and right one more time, trying to locate cameras, or peepholes, or mirrors that could be secret windows. I soon give up, realizing the thought of scary, stoic Tanner watching me pull my underwear down is not as unpleasant as I thought it would be. Let the poor man have some fun.