But it’s not fair.
I bring a leg up and press my foot against his shoulder, shoving him away before I come undone. He looks displeased as he stands, but I maneuver onto my knees at the edge of the bed, gazing up at him beneath my lashes. The annoyance of my interruption melts into something else as I open my mouth for him. He groans as I wrap my hand around his shaft and bring the tip of his cock to my lips. Spreading the droplet on his head across my lips, I let the salty tang seep into my mouth.
There’s something emboldening about the fact that he’s dripping from just tasting me, and I bring him into my mouth to have more of it. He’s so large I have to lower my jaw, crane my neck back. He presses against the back of my throat, and I whimper as I try to take all of him.
“Jesus. Fucking.Christ,” he groans.
I shimmy my tongue back and forth under his shaft, feeding on the throb and pulse of him. But for as hard as he is, for how much he’s vibrating with pleasure, his fingertips are gentle as they sweep the hair from my cheek. Pushing it back, he threads his fingers through until he’s cupping the back of my head. With soft pressure, he makes me take him deeper.
I don’t resist, wanting him to find release in me, wanting to give him anything he wants. But he doesn’t leavemewanting either.
He palms the space between my legs with his free hand, slipping down to cup me and then dragging a finger between my slit. I moan around his cock as he finds my clit and starts rubbing. I rock forward into it and when I pull back to suck, he leans with me.
We’re a frenzy of hunger.
I can feel myself dripping onto the inner of my thighs, my ecstasy building. And Jax is right behind me. His hand fists in my hair, his body becoming more rigid, his thrusts deeper and less controlled.
I clamp my thighs around his hand and cry out just as his cock pulses in my mouth. Hot cum shoots down the back of my throat. Greedy, I swallow it as I ride out my orgasm, squeezing my eyes shut.
When I finally look up, Jax is smirking down at me, that cocky curve of his lips well deserved this time.
“Kira Noland,” he drawls, pulling free and brushing his thumb over my lip like he’s claiming the last trace of him. His voice drops into something that makes my chest ache. “I fucking love you.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Kira
This time, I get a first-class seat to watch a house burn.
The flames are out of control against the dark sky, a loud roaring that none of us can speak over, only watch as black smoke thickens above and chokes the air. My eyes are watering as I clutch Nix’s hand. We’re both barefoot, made to look like we fled the house in a panic. Caleb stands a clipped distance away in slippers, and Jax is fully dressed, taking none of Nix’s lamenting about optics. Apparently, it was her idea to be in pajamas.
Optics.
I squeeze my sister’s hand tighter, as if keeping her close enough can keep her from whatever she’s becoming. She’s only eighteen, and she’s killed two people, barely phased by the first and eager to clean up the second with no remorse. James was a piece of shit, but he was a person, and she stepped over that line without hesitation.
Jax did something to the wiring in the house, triggering it to spark. He says that if anyone looks further than that—looks into James’ body that we left on the dining floor—that Nix is right, he’s the head of the firm now, and it will quietly get buried under the guise of an electrical fire.
Sirens sound in the distance, and I find Jax’s eyes, needing reassurance that this is going to work because even if my sister is unhinged, I refuse to let her go to jail. We’ll figure it out. We’ll get her therapy. I’ll make sure she doesn’t kill again. But first, burning the house down with James in it has to look like an accident.
He gives me a slow nod that says trust him.
When the firetrucks appear, the gates are already open, and they come barreling through. Police follow, lights flashing across the grounds in frantic streaks. Everything turns chaotic in seconds. I’m separated from Nix by paramedics, then by officers asking questions, then I’m guided onto the back of an ambulance with a silver blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
But all I have to do is look up, and Jax isn’t far. His gaze is an anchor, always there to meet mine, nodding no matter who he’s talking to. It’s the only thing that keeps me from unraveling as the fire is doused and the sun begins to peek from the horizon.
Two hours later, the sleek mansion is nothing but a steaming carcass, and James’ body is being wheeled out in a black bag.
Just in time for Layton to show up.
He’s not even disheveled as he steps out of the car, though it’s barely nearing five a.m., and I imagine he stays prepared for calls like this—calls where his prime suspect in a murder case is involved withanotherhouse fire.
My stomach knots at the idea of giving him the same story I’ve already mumbled to two officers. He’s going to know it’s bullshit. He’s going to figure out that Nix shot James. And then he’s going to realize that it was never me who had anything to do with Marshal in the first place.
My heart picks up speed as he makes a beeline straight toward me, gaze hard like a cat that has his mouse right where he wants it. My chin trembles as I try to raise it, and I shake off theblanket, looking for the badass inside me that slings drinks to bikers and tells them to get the fuck out when they get too rowdy.
But this isn’t a bar, and my sister’s life is on the line, and I don’t think I can—
Jax steps coolly in front of me, blocking Layton out of my view.
