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)
I call out his name, cling to him and then I’m there, my sex spasming around him, my face buried in his neck. His arm wraps around my waist, anchoring me to him, and he pumps again, a low, gruff, wholly masculine sound sliding from his lips as his entire body quakes. My nails dig into his shoulders, punishing him for letting this end, punishing him for making me want him this damn much. But then my body melts into his, and his into mine, and there is a calm perfection that follows. He rolls slightly and settles me half on top of him and half on top of the couch. I know I should get up, but I don’t and he doesn’t. His heart thunders beneath my ear, a low steady thrum that soothes and grounds me in the moment, in the man. His arm wraps around me, holding me close, almost willing me to stay just where I am, and so I do. I shut my eyes and drift into the sweet laden haze of satisfaction, relishing it, and refusing to let anything else in right now.
Jax
I lay there holding Emma, listening as she fades into sleep, thinking about everything she told me tonight, wondering what the fuck York has on her. Knowing there is far more to this than just Marion and an affair. He has something on her personally, and there’s this raging protective part of me that wants to get up now, charge to Savage’s location, and stand over him and his team until they get me answers. But that would mean letting Emma go, and as insane as it might be, considering her last name, I don’t want to let go. I’m not fucking letting go. In my gut, I think she needs me to hold on, and not just because I want her, but because she has rocked my world like no woman before her. I think Emma is in real trouble, perhaps more than she realizes, and that reminds me a little too much of what I felt with my brother, who is now dead.
Chapter thirty-four
Jax
It’s near dawn when I wake as Emma begins to make soft little sounds in her sleep. I lay there holding her, debating waking her up, not sure if this is simply a dream or a nightmare. My answer comes when she sobs and gasps for air. A moment later, she jolts upward, and I go with her, tightening my arm around her, both of us naked, but I’m not cold. She’s shivering. “God, it’s freezing in here.”
It’s not freezing, not at all, and I suspect her reaction is more from the contents of that nightmare, than the room’s temperature. I grab a throw blanket off the nearby chair and wrap it around her. “Thank you,” she whispers, but she doesn’t look at me.
I stroke her hair. “You okay?”
She nods, still no look. “Yes. Just—just a bad dream.” She curls tighter into herself, withdrawing, which I get. It’s how she’s survived. It’s what she does to push forward and from what I can tell of her family and York, that’s a practice she’s long embraced.
“I’ll grab you the hotel robe,” I say, and I don’t wait for her reply. I sense she needs a minute to herself and I get that. There are things in my past that don’t exactly warrant sharing either, things I cope with on my own. Understanding this, I give her a minute, pushing to my feet and snatching up my pants, pulling them on.
I round the corner into the bedroom, open the closet just outside the bathroom and pull out the robe. The minute I turn with the intent of returning to Emma, she appears in front of me, clutching the throw blanket at her breasts. “I should shower. I have to deal with Marion this morning.”
She’s edgy, a doe in headlights, ready to run. I catch her hip and step into her, dragging her against me. “Don’t do that,” I order softly. “Don’t shut me out.”
Her fingers curl on my chest and for a moment she doesn’t look at me. She also doesn’t deny that she’s shutting me out. “Emma,” I prod softly, wondering what the fuck that bastard did to her.
Her gaze lifts to mine. “I’m here, Jax. I’m not shutting you out.”
I risk saying what I promised not to say. “I’m not him.”
“If you were,” she says, “I wouldn’t be here. I’d have done more than shut you out. I’d have shut you down.”
“Then talk to me. What was that about? Is it a regular thing?”
“I have nightmares when I feel like I’m spinning out of control. It’s a control freak thing. And I’ve had nightmares since I started reading the journal. That’s all.”
“What kind of nightmares?”
“It’s not about some deep dark secret that you want to know, and I know already. I can’t remember much of anything when I wake up, the memories are just tiny, shattered pieces. I just know I wake up cold and a mess.” She presses her hand to her face and then drops it. “Maybe I know something I don’t know I know. Maybe they’re just about death. Maybe they’re nothing but me falling off a cliff because I feel so damn out of control right now. I don’t know. What I do know is that I really need coffee, a shower, and to have Marion out of my day.”