Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
“Jax,” I breathe out, and he folds me into him again, holding me close, my breasts to his chest, my body quaking. And then his body is shuddering.
We hold each other, ride out the wave of pleasure and then we still hold each other. Jax doesn’t put me down right there. He walks and doesn’t stop until we’re at a shower door. Only then does he ease me to the ground, parting our bodies and opening the door to turn on the water. I grab a towel and clean up, but my mind is all over the place. No, really, one place: why would Jax’s brother kill himself? I have questions about this, about him. So many questions and so many thoughts. Maybe Jax didn’t really know him. Maybe Jax doesn’t want to admit he wasn’t stable. Maybe my family pushed him until he could be pushed no more.
Jax catches my arm and I toss the towel down, letting him turn me to him. “Come,” he says, guiding me into the shower, and once we’re there, warm water streaming over us, he folds me close. He feels safe. He feels right when there is so much wrong about how we came together. I tilt my chin up and I meet his stare, his blue eyes piercing. I want to ask him if he’s my enemy, but I don’t. I don’t ask. He’ll tell me that we’re not. He’ll mean it too if he says it, I believe that. Jax told me the truth out there in the living room, but truth or not, my family has a way of taking people and turning them inside out. I wonder if that’s what they did to his brother. I wonder if we’re next.
Chapter twenty-five
Emma
We laugh.
Out of nowhere.
In the intensity of all that has passed between us the past half hour, Jax and I stand there under that water, jagged emotions cutting left and right, and we laugh. “Why are you laughing?” I ask.
“Because you’re laughing.” His lips, those beautiful lips that I know can be both brutal and tender, curve and he brushes my hair from my face. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re laughing.” My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and we laugh all over again.
“I’m all about satisfying your hunger, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Let’s get finished up and grab some food on the way to your place. Or better yet, let’s order delivery to meet us there. Then I have you to myself the rest of the day and night.”
This is the second time he’s made that statement and I find it pleases me just as much this time as last. I don’t mean to compare him to York, but it’s hard not to, when York consumed my life. A Sunday with York was about York. This doesn’t feel like it’s about Jax. It feels like it’s about us.
“I like that idea,” I say, shoving aside all the niggling warnings about enemies destined to burn and hurt each other. We were burned and hurt when we found each other, which is exactly why I think—I think we need each other.
The remainder of our shower is short, but we spend it smiling and laughing, setting aside families and tragedies. It’s like the breath we both need to take and so we do, now, here, together. A few minutes later I’m dressed in black jeans and a hot pink T-shirt, putting on make-up, when Jax steps to my side in faded jeans and a brown North Whiskey T-shirt. He proceeds to watch me do my make-up.
“Don’t you need to shave or something?”
He runs his hands over his thick stubble. “I like it this way.” He catches my arm and pulls me to him. “And I like you like this.”
“Like this?”
“Yes. Like this. Just like this.”
“Okay but only one of my eyes has eye shadow on it right now,” I say, deciding I should have asked for some private time to dress. The man is gorgeous, and I’m presently a mess.
“You’re beautiful, even with one pink eye.”
I laugh but he doesn’t, his mood shifting, the air thickening. “Why the fuck do you have to be a Knight?” His voice is low, guttural, tormented.
It sets me on edge. “I can’t change who I am.”
“And the irony of that statement is that who you are is half the attraction.”
I blanch, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” He strokes my cheek. “I’m going to get packed.”
He turns and walks out of the room, leaving me a bit stunned and confused. We can’t get by this family issue. He stood right in the bedroom and told me, point blank, that his brother is dead because of my family. He doesn’t trust me. He can’t trust me. We can’t trust each other. And yet, I’m still here. Why? I turn to stare in the mirror and study the woman in the mirror, as if she will have that answer, as if she’s not me. She who was born a Knight but hasn’t felt like she belonged her entire life. Jax knows this about me when all those close to me don’t. Maybe that’s my answer. The real me is invisible to everyone but him. But why have I accepted that status in my life? Where has that gotten me?