Page 44 of Rogue
Yes, it matters, even though I don’t want it to.
“I bumped into her . . . Sabrina, that is . . . in the hallway, decked out in fuck-me pumps and her peacock finery. Smelling like a brothel and coming from Hayden’s suite of rooms . . .”
Jaxson winks, as the truth hits me.
Hayden’s suite . . . Damn her for screwing with my head . . . ruining what could have been . . . could still be . . .
I kick the sheet free of my legs and move swiftly, straddling his body and positioning myself over his lower waist. His eyes flash and he’s no longer counting ceiling tiles. Seems I’ve thrown him off-center. And as I suck in an encouraging breath, I’m about to knock him off his ass.
Or send him running for the hills. Yeah, there’s always the possibility it’ll all turn to shit. I fold forward until my chest is resting against his own, my arms to both sides of him bracing me as I bring my face up close to his. Mustering my courage, I choke out the four words that might either bring us closer together or tear us apart.
“I like you, too.”
We stare at each other. Two strangers, within this foreign mercenary world. One, a professional. Experienced with manipulation, killing . . . sex and seduction. Then there’s me, the bleeding idiot who’s fallen hard and fast for a man she really knows nothing about. Is he’s feeling this strange pull between us that began when we first laid eyes on each other and which not only hasn’t let up, it’s grown stronger? It’s irrational. Illogical. But the truth, nevertheless.
“It’s hard to believe . . . you’ll never understand . . . I can’t figure out how or why . . .” I mumble, trying to get to the point but struggling to find the words.I like you. I think I’ve falling for you. I might be in love with you.
He bucks up from the mattress and rolls, careful not to crush me as he reverses our positions. He’s on top, with me beneath him, and the world, the bedroom, and everything around me keeps moving in a converged blur. Except for him. Only him. “You haven’t a goddamn clue why I came to you tonight, do you?”
Wrong-o-mundo. I’ve a clue all right. A pretty big one, which is barely contained beneath his gray sweatpants. I feel his long length rubbing up against my core. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, to have such strong feelings for you in such a short period of time. I’ve never felt this way. It’s insane. Very much unlike me. I get it, though. There’s an attraction between us. I think it’s mutual. You came here for a good time. And I’m turning it into an episode ofOne Life to Live.”
His beautiful, handsome face is just inches from mine. His lips so close, close enough to kiss . . .
His arms flank my body, keeping me trapped in place beneath him on the mattress. He braces his weight on his forearms except for his lower half, where the heaviness of his erection is nestled up against my center.
I started this.
And he’s going to finish it.
He shakes his head, back and forth slightly, like he’s asked himself a question and the answer’s an absolute no. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking incredible.”
“It’s probably like this with tons of women. You know, once a guy, always a guy.” I work my arm out from where it’s trapped against my body and give him a playful punch in the arm. A goodwill gesture, when all I really want is for him to say it isn’t so.
“I knew I was in deep trouble the first time I saw you.” He sits up, and still straddling my body, hunches over. Then, gently, ever so gently, he caresses my cheek, running his thumb along my cheekbone in a downward diagonal journey to my lips. “Your cheeks were muddied, especially right here.” I’m frozen beneath him, trapped beneath his body and by his words. “There was a flush to your skin, much like the blush you’ve got going on now.” Hooking his fingers into the neckline of my T-shirt, he tugs it down to take a gander of the evidence of my excitement. “And then, there was that T-shirt—‘Can’t Catch Me.’ Just the kind of woman I love, one that’s good for the chase.”
Run? The only place I’ll ever be running to is into his arms. I give myself a mental eye roll. Men will be men, always wanting a challenge. Wanting someone just out of reach.
I’m just a game to him.
He lowers his head, eyes flashing as his lips claim my own, stealing the gasp right out of my lungs. It’s not a gentle peck or an exploratory kiss. No, it’s absolute, total destruction. His tongue dances with mine, twirling and thrusting deep, claiming my mouth, claiming me. He pauses only to groan into my mouth before continuing his onslaught. I arch my head back and give as good as I get. On and on we kiss, until my toes curl and my hips arch up into him. Mating with him. Never wanting him to pull away.
And then he does just that.
I lower my eyelids, not wanting him to see my disappointment.
He cups my chin with his fingers. “Look at me.”
I do as he asks and . . . blink. Holy sweet Mary. Oh. My. God. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Yeah, it’s crazy. Insane, as you say. There are a million and one reasons why I should leave you alone. You don’t belong here being one. Hayden, along with his strict code of ethics, being another. The worst time, the worst place, the worst set of fucked-up circumstances to be in.”
Oh, sweet Mary. Is he saying what I think he is saying?
“Listen, fireball. Since I met you, I’ve thought about you and only you. Every time I see you, it’s like a switch turning on. I want to get up inside you fast. So freaking fast, every single time. Fuck you. Pleasure you. Claim you. Take you. And make you mine. That’s all I can promise. No other guarantees besides that—it’s far too dangerous, on so many different levels.” My ears strain to pick up the last part of this as he says it beneath his breath. “I shouldn’t be doing this. But you see—” He leans in and gently kisses my lips, then murmurs against them, “I’ve no sense of control around you. God knows, I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”
His isn’t a declaration of love. Or even an “I like you.” But it’s honest, raw, Jaxson through and through. It’s the truth of us. I’m not about to waste another second wondering what if. If he feels the urge to get up inside me fast . . . and often . . . well, lucky me, who am I to complain?
I wiggle beneath him, working my legs free, then wrapping them up around his waist. Arching my hips off the bed and rubbing my core up into his erection.
With an arm wrapped around me, he hugs me into him, rolls up into a sitting position with me high on his lap, and, using the mattress as friction, slides his sweatpants off. His erection springs free and I feel the warm weight of it on my bottom. He fumbles around, tossing his sweats onto the floor, then places a colorful display of what has to be the world’s longest strip of Trojans beside us on the bed.
