Page 36 of Save Me

We keep talking for hours, trading stories, and learning about the trials and tribulations we have both experienced growing up. We talk until the pain and sadness from the past doesn’t feel as intense, as if we are both helping the other shoulder the burdens we have been carrying for so long. We don’t leave the bedroom until our growling stomachs force us from the bed and into the kitchen for dinner, and for a few hours I feel lighter, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what Jax meant when he said emotional pain is like a splinter, and the sooner we pull it out, the sooner we talk about it, the easier it is to heal.

CHAPTER 16

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My canvas isset up on the floor against the wall, the large windows shining light onto the surface as I drag a paintbrush across it, the bristles flowing smoothly as yellow streaks against the white. Yellow has never been my color. It’s too happy, too obviously cheerful, and a part of me resents it.

I snort a laugh at the idea of resenting a color.

I put the paintbrush down, not trying to force the painting out of me, not quite sure what it is I’m trying to achieve. Well, besides trying to forget what a mess I made of yesterday, my plan to go back to normal, to sleep with Jax again, backfiring horribly.

As if summoned by my thoughts he saunters into the bedroom, a smug smile on his face, as he sees me sitting on the floor, my paintbrush unceremoniously dripping yellow paint onto the stone beneath me.

I drink him in, drink in everything about him as he walks slowly towards me, crossing the bedroom in even strides, a glow in his eyes.

He pauses as he gets close to me, looking at me up and down, his eyes lingering on my bare legs, glowing in the light of the setting sun, and the paint dripping onto the floor.

I blush as he takes his phone out of his pocket, the camera clicking as he captures me in front of him.

“What are you doing?” I laugh, and he smiles in return.

“I needed to capture this moment forever.”

“This moment?” I question, raising the dripping paintbrush in front of me as I smile at him.

“Yes, this moment. You are so ravishing, even the sun wants to caress your skin for as long as possible.” His voice is low and husky.

I blush even harder at his declaration, putting the paintbrush down, and wiping my hands on my oversized shirt, hanging loosely around my body.

“What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Turner,” I say, my voice alight with mischief.

“There’s a lot of things you can do for me, and a few of them don’t even require you to get off of the floor,” he purrs suggestively.

“Okay, you have my attention. Tell me”—I start to stand up, grabbing onto the hand he extends to me—“what exactly do you have in mind that would keep me on my knees?”

He tilts my chin up to him, his thumb running over my lower lip. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I have in mind, love.” His voice is raw with desire as he looks at me. “But as much as I’d love to watch you take all of me, feel just how nice the back of your throat is”—he leans closer to me, his lips almost touching mine—“there will be none of that tonight.”

He pulls away and I feel myself lean into the empty space, wanting to close the gap between us, wanting our lips to meet and for my mouth to be filled with the flavor of him.

I let out a frustrated groan as he takes a few steps back, the space between us growing even more. He continues to back towards the door, a mischievous smile lighting his features. “I’m not touching you again until you’re ready for it, love. Ready for all of it. But don’t worry, I have a plan to help you get there.” His smile never falters as he opens the bedroom door again, the twinkle in his eye bright with mischief. His smile is contagious, and I feel the corners of my mouth tilting up to match his.Curiosity has me watching his every move as he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

A moment later my phone rings, and Jax’s name flashes across my screen.

I pick it up, unable to stop the wide smile that takes over my face.

“Hello?”

“So, tell me, what would you do for my lips to be on yours right now?”

I clench my thighs as a wave of desire washes through me.

“Are you really doing this?” I ask incredulously.

“Depends on what you mean bythis,” he retorts lightly. “But if I were you, I’d make yourself comfortable on the bed.”

I can hear his smile followed by the sound of a zipper being undone.

“Did you—did you just undo your pants?” I stammer.

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