Page 5 of Jax

“Is that you, Sade?” Psycho asks as he mashes controller buttons. He’s still sitting exactly where I left him this morning.

“Yeah,” I respond, pulling the door shut behind me. It squeaks closed, making me cringe but I pull my shoulders back to make sure I’m ready for anything he decides to throw at me.

Walking toward the couch in slow, easy steps, I take him in. This vantage point shows off Psycho’s greatest features. I can see the cut of his muscles from over top of the couch. He has a long, defined neck with a tattoo cascading up the side and into his hairline. You can’t see the depthlessness of his eyes from here. Or his hard features. Or the sickness he holds inside. When he first took me in, I counted myself lucky. He was my new Jax, or at least I’d thought.

I didn’t know I was getting into the ring with the devil.

He holds his hand up and beckons me forward. My feet feel as if they weigh a hundred pounds each as I move around the side of the sectional, stepping for a moment in the rays of the sun the single window lets in and lower to my knees. I’m supposed to greet him in this manner, and it always serves its purpose. I lower my gaze, feeling like the dirt under his shoe.

As usual, whatever lackey he has around him grins and chuckles like he thinks my subservient manner is the funniest thing in the world. I guess if you were also a petty man with a micro penis, you’d find enjoyment in this.

A finger moves under my chin, tilting my gaze upward. Looking into his dark eyes now, I have no idea why I ever thought he would be anything like Jax. The differences between them are soul deep. Sure, on the outside, they’re both considered handsome. Though, seeing Jax for the first time in a while, I can clearly say that Psycho doesn’t hold a candle to him. However, they have that same type of build—a fighter’s body. If there’s one thing Psycho makes sure he spends money on when we have it is a little roid help to add to his gym routine.

Something I know Jax would never do.

Psycho’s lackey huffs and leans back, letting the controller drop to his lap. Must be my master has paused the game to deal with me. I refrain from closing my eyes even though I’d love nothing more than to shut this all out.

“What happened in the Heights today?” His easy voice is a trap.

I wet my lips, stomach bottoming out. “I met with Jax. He wasn’t happy to see me.”

Psycho sighs, looking away briefly but it’s not because he’s going to forgive what happened. No, he’s just contemplating what hell to put me through.

Finally, he huffs. “I’ll be happier with this conversation if you’re topless.”

3

Iwish it fazed me more to undress in front of people. Both Psycho and his lackey, Tiron, salivate as I calmly peel my shirt from my body. My long blond hair washes over my shoulders, tickling the crests of my breasts and teasing my lacy bra. I stare at them, unfeeling. The longer the silence stretches, though, the more Psycho’s face focuses as if I can see him clearer now than before.

He's not Jax.

The need to cover up becomes almost palpable, but I don’t. If I give Psycho anything, he’ll hold it over my head until the end of time. I’ve long given up trying to talk sense into him. I used to want to get naked for Psycho. I craved sex with him, but over time, it disintegrated into something degrading and unnatural. As he took more and more power for himself, he exploited my body like every other man in my life until I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

“You. Talk,” Psycho directs, giving me a warning look while he hinges at the waist. He reaches into my bra to fondle my nipple. A reluctant pressure forms between my legs, but I make my mind go blank as he reveals my tit by forcing the lace down. He swipes his thumb across my sensitive flesh in front of Tiron who takes his fill like the degenerate he is.

“I went to their house in the Heights,” I say as Psycho pinches my nipple, rubbing it until it hardens under his close inspection. He elbows Tiron who licks his lips, and the both of them smile as my body reacts traitorously. I’ve long since realized that the physical body does what it wants, even if my mind is gone and I’m not actually enjoying one fucking thing about what’s happening. “He and his brother weren’t happy to see me.”

“Well, we knew that going in, didn’t we?” Psycho prompts.

“Yes, Sir.”

He shakes his head, ogling me. “I can’t believe you wore this outfit and the both of them didn’t just take you right there.” He shifts on the couch, and I already know this is going to turn into something more than an undressing and public humiliation.

I keep the tone of my voice even. “He’s angry. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking with his little head.”

Psycho snickers. “Just how little is he?”

I refrain from scoffing, keeping my internal thoughts right where they are. “He’s tiny,” I lie. “Microscopic.” An image of Jax’s actual package pops into my head, and my body warms. Easily the best dick I ever had. Thick, veiny, and the perfect length. The only person with a microscopic penis in this room is Psycho. The roids shrunk it, and that’s a generous assessment.

He cups my tit until his fingernails dig into the side of my breast. “Regardless, you know you’re going to have to ride that little prick at some point or another. You’ll take it with fake enthusiasm.”

Now that I’m well experienced in that, it shouldn’t be a problem.

This is Psycho’s grand plan. He thinks I can claw my way back into Jax’s good graces. Seduce him with my womanly wiles until I’m close enough to get information so Psycho can take his business ventures over or deplete his bank account. He wants account numbers. Business papers. Anything that will give him what Jax has.

“I will,” I tell him as he takes my other tit out by once again pushing back the cup and tracing his disgusting fingers over my skin. Next to Psycho, Tiron cups his cock, shifting it into his palm.

“After seeing you,” Psycho muses, “there has to be a reason why he didn’t bend you over his porch instead of ripping up those fake papers. What did you do to turn him off?”

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