“Fuck,” he moaned into my mouth, the only warning I got before he stood and switched our positions in one move.I went from towering over him to sitting on the edge of the chair, him towering over me, my legs squeezed in between his.
This kiss was hungrier, more demanding.One hand rested on the back of the chair while the other was wrapped tightly around my waist.His touch lit a fire inside me, one that I wasn't sure I wanted to put out or burn.
The latter sounded like a dangerous trap, but I had a feeling he was used to danger.
My lungs begged for air, and I pulled away from him.Ragged breaths escaped my lips, though my eyes remained shut.I needed a second to compose myself—shake off the stunning feeling of what just happened.
I felt him lean in again, gentler this time.A slow, almost reverent peck that lingered just long enough to make my stomach flip and my breath stutter.His forehead rested against mine, his exhale warm and uneven against my lips.When my eyes fluttered open, he was staring at me like he didn’t quite trust what had just happened, disbelief and desire colliding openly in his gaze.
“Trouble,” he breathed out.“What—”
Panic surged, sharp and immediate, because I was the one who’d crossed that line.I was the one who’d acted.So I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“That was for Chase.”
Jaxon pulled back just enough for the space between us to feel colder.
“Chase?”he repeated, brows knitting together.
I nodded quickly.Too quickly.“He thought we were faking it.He said some things, and I just—” I shrugged, lifting my chin defensively.“I wanted to prove him wrong.So don’t get any ideas—that was all for show.”
Something dark flickered behind Jaxon’s eyes at the mention of Chase.His jaw tightened, and his eyes searched mine.We stared each other down, and I tried to seal the cracks in my walls.This was for show; nothing more.
Nodding slowly, he let out a breath before bending his head to brush his lips against my cheek.
“Then I suppose this is okay?”His lips continued a trail of heat along my skin, finding every curve until his head was buried in the crook of my neck.
“Sure,” I murmured.
It really wasn't.
A soft hum left his throat as his lips traced my skin, unhurried and deliberate.My pulse went traitorous instantly, jumping rapidly just from this light teasing.
You hate him, Savannah.
“First the photo,” he murmured against me, voice low and teasing, “and now that kiss?If I didn’t know better, trouble, I’d think you want me.”
I scoffed weakly, my resolve unravelling by the second.“Want you?You're forgetting the fact that I hate you.”
“And I suppose your loathing of me has you gripping my hair so tight?”
I released himimmediately.
He chuckled.“You want me, trouble.”
“Keep dreaming, Cage.”
His teeth grazed my shoulder—barely there, just enough to make me inhale sharply.“Oh, I will.”
My knees felt unsteady.I hated that I liked this.Hated that my body responded to his touch before my brain could marshal an argument.
“You must live a sad life if you have to dream of being with a woman.”
“Dreams are where the fantasies come to life, trouble,” he drawled, smiling against my shoulder.“Though I don't think I'd need a dream to know that if I spread these long legs of yours”—his hand slowly slid down my thighs for emphasis—“got down on my knees and ripped your panties off, I'd find you dripping wet for me.”
My core ached at the mere thought, and I pressed my thighs together in an effort to stop it.I wanted to argue the point, but no words came to me, not when my mind was occupied with the idea of him on his knees for me.
This was not going well.
