I could hear his steady breathing, and every slight movement he made on the bed. I couldn’t sleep now that he was so close. This is what I dreamed about, wasn’t it? Only reality was a whole other thing, high lighting what a naïve person I’d been to think that the world had somehow frozen in Jaxon’s life and that he hadn’t changed. I mean, I had changed completely. Why didn’t I think he might have, too?
Lucinda’s words chilled me to the bone. How could she be so casual about it, asking me if her son had killed a man? I mean… had he killed others? Was I sleeping next to a murderer? Fuck, this was too freaky for me. I wished I was in the safety of Winthrop, in bed with Daniel instead, only caring about the food I’d eat the next day and what flick I wanted to see at the movies. Those used to be my pathetically simple dilemmas in life.
Exhaling unsteadily, I opened my mouth and whispered, “Did you kill him?” I regretted saying it right away, mainly for what it would mean if he answered yes.
I felt a little movement from his side, and I imagined him looking at me. Or maybe he was glaring, who the hell knew with this Jaxon nowadays? The glare seemed to be his look.
“Why do you want to know?” His voice was surprisingly soft.
“Because I want to know.”
“What would you get out of knowing, Sara?”
“I’d understand a little bit about you.” How badly you’ve changed. What you’re capable of. But I didn’t say those things out loud.
This made him quiet for a moment. Then he said, “What would you have done to a guy who was about to rape and murder a defenseless person?”
“Call the cops.”
He chuckled louder this time. “You don’t know the good ol’ law system in Gosnells. Cops are as crooked as the criminals on the street, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yeah, okay…babe.”
I turned my body around to face him. Yep, he was wearing his glare, and I half expected him to shoot venom at me out of those sexy ass lips of his.
“Did you kill him?” I asked again, determined to get the answer out of him. I propped myself up on one elbow and stared down at him.
He looked at me, half amused, half annoyed. “No, I didn’t.”
Not wanting to be taken for an idiot, I said, “I’m sure you didn’t, but did you have him killed?”
He sighed and shook his head. “No.”
I studied him for a long moment, waiting for something to slip in that face of his. If he was lying, he didn’t show it.
“Are you a thug?”
He burst out laughing, but I didn’t allow that to make me feel silly. I remained serious, waiting patiently for him to calm down and answer the question.
“No,” he finally said. “I’m not a thug.”
“What do you do?”
“I own a few businesses around town.”
“What businesses?”
“Why don’t I show you tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “I’m busy tomorrow. I’ve got my dead mother’s house to sort through, and then I’ve got to go back home. So why not just tell me what businesses you own?”
He twisted his lips, and propped himself up on his elbow too so that we were face to face barely a foot away. “So you won’t let me show you while you’re here?”
“No.”
“Then I guess you’ll never know.”
Irritated by his cockiness, I turned away and settled myself back down on the far end of the mattress. I heard him chuckle to himself.
I hated how smug he was being, but I wanted to talk to him more. I was addicted to his voice, and breathing the same air as him, and feeling the pool of warmth he was helping to create beneath the covers – I couldn’t focus on sleep. I felt that ache again, an ache that could only be satiated by his touch. I tightly squeezed my thighs together, not wanting to get too carried away by my thoughts. Yet when I stopped thinking, the images flashed before my eyes; his tattoo, the broad shoulders near my face straining when he thrust into me, the sounds he made, the painful kisses he gave me, and the fullness I felt of him inside of me. Fuck, I hate this.
I was grouchy now that I was horny as hell and couldn’t do a thing about it. No way in hell would I initiate anything again, and if he initiated it? Well, tough for him. I wasn’t going to be used like a tissue and discarded the second the show was over. I felt him repeatedly move around behind me, as if he too was restless. Yet neither of us said another word, nor made any sneaky movements that had us drawing anywhere nearer to one another in search of that satiation.
I closed my eyes and thought of an endless clear blue sky, imagined cool air hitting my face, and the peace and quiet of being up high and away from the noise of the world below. I tried to think of the tranquility I’d feel in the company of myself, of being happy and at peace… And then, just like that, I thought of sex with Jaxon, and that peaceful, tranquil sky morphed into seedy images of being fucked by him.
This was going to be a long night.
*****
I was thankful that sleep won over sometime later. I fell into a deep, content slumber, and not once did I stir. I was pleasantly surprised that my body alarm didn’t wake me up at the dreaded hour of four in the morning for once. Not even the sunlight of morning bothered me like it normally did. I was too content, comfortable and warm. Too warm, actually.
I opened one eye, and shut it. Then I opened it again, and shut it again. Where am I? Oh, yes, the guest room in Lucinda’s house. I opened my eye, this time a little more alert than before and noticed straight away that I was no longer on the edge of the bed where I had fallen asleep. I was actually right in the center. What the fuck is pressing into my back?
I was wide awake now, and completely mindful of Jaxon’s body wrapped around me. Holy shit, we were spooning, and not just that, but I had a leg between both of his. Fuck, did I initiate this too sometime in the night?
His arm was wrapped firmly around my waist, securely fitting my back against his upper body. The heat radiating out of his naked body had been the source of my comfort all night long. But even I couldn’t deny it wasn’t just the warmth that comforted me. It was the feel of him so perfectly fitted behind me; like we were two pieces to a puzzle. I sighed, contentedly. I missed this. Oh, God, did I miss this!
Closing my eyes, I relaxed my body and dozed for a little while longer, basking in the feel of perfection and happiness that I knew would be short lasting. He would wake up soon, and what would stern, Mr Glare make of our position? I decided to wait and find out.
It wasn’t long after I heard a wakeful inhale, and felt the stretching of his legs. His chin, which was at the top of my head, moved back and forth, and then he sighed. His hold around my waist loosened for a short moment, and then tightened even more than before, bringing me even closer into him. His head moved and I felt a breath sweep across my ear. Was he checking if I was awake? I kept my eyes shut just in case.
His arm loosened entirely now and his hand roamed beneath my sweater and rested gently onto my stomach. He traced circles around my belly button, and the sensitive, ticklish sensations had me flinch involuntarily.
“Wake up, Sara,” he whispered. His hand travelled up and rested at my ribs. “Up, Sara.” When I didn’t move, he tickled me.