When Axe looks at me again, there’s something in his eyes—an intensity I’ve never seen before. I ignite—a flare of desire erupts in me, so strong I tremble from it. His breath is shallow, like he’s trying to hold himself back. I stare, daring him to be the first to move. We haven’t touched, and yet we’re both suddenly panting, the want so intense it feels like a magnetic force.
Axe snaps. His lips crash against mine. It’s not soft or sweet—it’s desperate, hungry, searching. Like he’s drowning, and kissing me is the only thing keeping him afloat. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and he lifts me off the ground like I weighnothing, sweeping me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around him and he spins me around, burying his face in my neck.
He bites and I shriek.
The storm that’s been raging all day suddenly breaks, and the sun bursts through the clouds. It’s like the universe is giving us this one perfect moment after all the madness. We don’t say anything. We just know. He’s running, with me wrapped around him, moving with that long, effortless stride of his, like he’s got one thing on his mind and nothing’s going to stop him.
“Where…?” I ask, but he just grins, that cocky smile that turns my insides as sweet and soft as a marshmallow.
“To the orangery,” he says, and though I have no idea what the hell an orangery is, I don’t care. I will go wherever this man takes me.
I lick his neck while he runs, taste the salty residue of his tears. And within seconds, Axe sets me down before a building on the edge of the property.
All four walls are made up of arched panes of glass, and inside is a canopy of green. The place is filled with life—trees, plants, and flowers in bloom, set around a stone pond gurgling with fish. Tucked in with the greenery, a large, low bed, built more like a nest, is draped with soft linens and piled with cushions. It feels like it doesn’t belong in this sad, broody castle, a mini paradise smack in the middle of all this ancient drama. Kind of like Axe’s rooftop garden—a chill spot, totally disconnected from everything.
“I used to come here when I was a lad. Only place I felt like I could escape to on the whole island,” Axe says as we walk inside. “Sometimes I’d even sleep here and look up at the stars through the windows and think about all the other people all over the world under the same night sky.”
“I used to do the same from my hospital window. I’d feel so alone and wonder if there was anyone else out there who felt as lonely as I did.”
He bows his head against mine, forehead to forehead, and the electricity buzzes between us. “Josie, before we…before I touch you, I need to tell you something. I can’t be one more person who stands before you and isn’t who they say they are.” He leads me to a cushioned settee in the corner. I sit and wait. My entire focus is on Axe, his body heat, the strength of his arms around me, his thumping heart. I have no idea what he’ll say, but I know whatIwant to tell him.
I want to tell Axe MacKenzie that whoever he is, I already know him and love him. Ilovehim.
“Remember at the party, that guy Petrov?” Axe asks.
“You mean the one you and Strike were murdering when Honor and I so rudely interrupted?” I ask, and he gasps.
“You knew?” I lean over and close his slack jaw.
“Not then, no. But Petrov’s widow told me, and that’s the only thing she said that kind of made sense. And once I landed here in this weird-ass sex dungeon castle, all the pieces fell into place.”
“Josie.” Axe looks at me with panic now, like he thinks I’m about to bolt. Which is hilarious, because all I want to do is climb him like a tree and feel him inside me. Fit our broken pieces together so I can be full of Axe. He is one of the only people in my life who accepts me as is. I’ve never once shown him the JosieFightsOn version, because I’ve never had to. Maybe that’s what love is—giving someone the grace to be their own messy, chaotic self. And if that self is a vigilante superhero who offs bad guys, well, who am I to judge? “You don’t understand. Not really.”
“I think I do. You killed Petrov to stop his trafficking ring, andNiles was next on your list. Glad you managed it without turning the place into a crime scene this time.” I grin at him. “The smell of grown men pissing themselves is the worst.”
“You can’t. You can’t possibly want me after knowing that. Knowing what I do. It’s not just Petrov and Nil— Hamish. You just saw me throw my brother off a cliff.”
“Yup, and I hope the fishies don’t choke on his plastic face. And hey, there are worse hobbies than protecting the vulnerable. You’re at least doing some good in this world, even if it’s…creatively violent.” I mean it, too. This man in front of me has the biggest heart. “I’d still—”
But I don’t even get to finish, because Axe’s mouth is on mine again, and any rational thoughts I might have had just fly right out into the Scottish night.
—
Axe kisses like he rides a motorcycle. Hard, fast, and in complete command. His hand cups the back of my head, and I feel his fingers weave through my hair. I chase his tongue and nip at his lips, and with every kiss, I grow even hungrier for him. Who knew kissing could be like this? He traces kisses up my jaw and then down my neck, and I throw my head back and moan.
“You,” he says as his kisses sear my most sensitive skin. “You. You.”
Night is falling outside, and the room dims, lit only by the glow of the moon. From our view in this soft nest of a bed in the orangery, a jutting wall of the castle looms up, its Gothic angles a sharp contrast to this paradise of green bowers and citrusy air. I’m too preoccupied even to gaze at the stars, which freckle the spectacular sky.
There is nothing else in the world but me and Axe and this moment.
“Stand up,” he says, and I do on wobbly legs.
He gets up behind me, moves my hair to one side, and tugs down the zipper of my dress. It slides straight to the floor, pooling at my feet, leaving me in nothing but a tiny lace thong. He growls, like I’m a steak dinner he can’t wait to eat, and in one long lick, I feel his tongue move from the base of my spine all the way back to my neck. He’s hard against my ass, and I can’t help it—I wiggle against him.
When I turn around, Axe takes me in with a smoldering look from head to toe, like I’m a work of art he wants to absorb.
“You. Are. So. Fecking. Beautiful. Josie. I am the luckiest man alive that I get to touch you.” I smile at him, a big, bold, confident shit-eating grin that immediately falls from my face when he drops to his knees in front of me. If he wasn’t holding me still—his arms are wrapped around my lower back now—I’d collapse.
