My laugh is incredulous. “Excuse me? I was just having a conversation. And even if I was throwing myself at every guy in there, it’s none of your damn business!”
“Like hell it isn’t.” His voice is low, dangerous. “Brex likes to stick his dick in anyone he can get his hands on.”
“Pot, kettle, much?” I huff, folding my arms across my chest in defense. “We’re not together, Jax. Just because we had sexonce—which was months ago, by the way—doesn’t give you the right to?—”
His mouth crashes down on mine. For a split second, I’m too shocked to respond. Then my body takes over, and I’m kissing him back, hands fisting his shirt.
Hot and demanding, his tongue slides against mine. A moan escapes my throat as he presses me harder against the brick, which is just as unforgiving as Jax’s mouth. One hand tangles in my hair while the other grips my hip, fingers digging in so possessively, they’ll probably leave a mark.
When we finally break apart, we’re both panting into each other’s mouths.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he challenges, resting his forehead against mine. “Tell me you don’t think about me as much as I think about you.”
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This—” I take a deep breath in, its release coming out as a stutter. “—is still a bad idea.”
He traces his thumb across my lower lip, making me shiver. “I want you, Sasha. From the first moment I saw you. And I think you want me too, no matter how hard you try to deny it.”
God help me, he’s right. But fuck if I’m going to give him the satisfaction of knowing I have the same war as he does raging inside.
“It was one night,” I insist, pushing against his chest, making him take a step back. “That’s all it was ever supposed to be.”
His eyes search mine. “Fine,” he grunts. “Come on. You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.”
I don’t argue,mostly because my head’s still spinning from the way he kissed me like he owns the fucking air I breathe. My pulse is still jackhammering as he takes my elbow and steers me toward his truck.
Knowing this is a terrible idea, I climb into the passenger seat, slamming the door harder than necessary because… I don’t know. Emotions? Hormones? Jax being all alpha-sexy and shit?
The drive home is tense. I watch his forearms flex as he twists his hands around the steering wheel, trying not to clench my thighs together in response.
Just as we pull to a stop in his driveway, my phone pings.
NOIA
Where the hell did you disappear to??
NOIA
Are you with Jax!???
I’m okay. He drove me home.
NOIA
Shaking my head, I snort out a laugh.
“Everything okay?” Jax asks, voice low as he shifts into park, shutting off the engine.
“Fine,” I say a little too quickly, shoving my phone between my thighs.
His eyes drop to my lap, then lift slowly, deliberately, back up to mine. “You sure?” he murmurs. “It’s not your ex, is it?”
Damn him. His voice always sounds like smoke wrapped in sin when he lowers his voice like that.
“No. Just Noia checking in.”
Desperate to escape before I do something catastrophically stupid—like climb into his lap—I grab the door handle.
A hand lands on my thigh. “Wait.”
