Paris
“You’ve got a funny way of thanking me, fireball.”
“You budge one inch and I’ll break a finger,” I hiss.
I feel his back rumble beneath me. “Better a finger than a knife in the throat. Of all the weapons . . .”
There’s pride in his tone. And more.
I swallow hard.
It takes less than an hour for Jaxson and me to fall back into the normal swing of things. I’ve got a sore throat, chafed ankle, cuts and bruises everywhere, and have still managed to pin Jaxson facedown on the Aubusson carpet the second after we’d entered his swanky, five-star hotel room.
I’m tired, beat up, filthy, a physical and emotional train wreck.
I should be happy Jaxson’s reverted back to the person I fell in love with. My playful, do-as-I-may lover. A man who declared that there was this thing between us and who pursued me to no end. How can he act like nothing’s changed after everything that’s happened?
After what Novák did to him.
I won’t rest until I see it.
“Either you take off your shirt or I’ll cut it straight off your body.”
“You’ll have to let go of your death grip on my fingers first. Besides, I like it rough, remember?”
Remember? I’ve got the battle wounds to prove it. Damn it. If there was only a way to flip him onto his back without him wiggling free. Then he’ll see my panic and how dead serious I am about this.
“Please, Jaxson. Let me look at it.”
Back within the crumbling walls of the cell, there’d been no time to process it all. The aftermath of the horribly executed hydrogen-peroxide explosion is a blur. Jaxson and the Irishman digging me out from beneath the mattress. Jaxson tugging on my skinny jeans while I stared at Novák’s lifeless body. The dead Pricks lining the walkway, each with a single bullet to the forehead. Our mad dash to exit the catacombs before anyone investigated the cause of the miniearthquake deep beneath the fine boulevards of Paris.
A fitting end to those Pricks. Now their bones will join the thousands of others buried within these tunnels. I’ll be sure to toss a few flower petals down the nearest manhole whenever I pass by. Yeah, right.
We’d bid au revoir to the mysterious Irishman—who, interestingly enough, Jaxson seemed to be acquainted with. Then like two lost sewer rats, I followed Jaxson in a brow-raising march across the pristine marble foyer of what has to be the swankiest five-star hotel on the Champs-Élysées and to Jaxson’s suite of rooms. No, messieurs. That catacomb tour sure wasn’t what I expected it to be.
As soon as we closed the door, I tackled him to the floor.
“Jaxson,” I whisper, pleadingly.
He stills beneath me.
“Turn your head and look at me. You’ve got to understand what this does to me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Damn you, it matters. It’s the price you paid on my behalf for being late.”
He sighs, then softly says, “What the hell. Go ahead, take a gander. But I want something in exchange.”
“Fine. What is it?” I’ve already released his hands and have hooked my fingers around the hem of his shirt.
“A shower.”
I blink. “A shower?”
“Yep. You heard me.”
Okay. Not exactly what I was expecting he’d say. Not “Let’s rehash what’s happened” or “Let me report in to Hayden, then finish the hit on you.” The hit—yeah, talk about a white elephant in the room.
“Deal.” And while you’re showering, I’ll exit stage left.
But as I pull up his shirt and inspect the seared skin on his back, just near his right shoulder. A part of him he carefully kept hidden from me. I realize that no matter what he has in store for me, I will never run from him again.
He’s been branded, his skin fused together by a hot metal iron in the shape of the letter K.
Marked.
For me.
A faint, unfamiliar sound escapes my throat. A whimper. I roll off of him and onto my back, feeling sick to my stomach. “Why K?” I choke out. “Is it because every time you’d look at it, you’d remember what I did to you? An ugly, painful reminder of how much you hate me?”
“Just the opposite.”
“The opposite . . .”
“Don’t get me wrong. It hurt like a bitch and for a long time, I was ticked off about it. But if I was going to be sporting a letter on my body like some twisted tattoo, I figured it’d better represent someone I love. Someone I fell in love with so damn fast my head spun, and it hasn’t stopped spinning. Someone I’ll love to the end, no matter what.”
“But—”
“Shush. Let me finish.”
“Did you just shush me?” But if there were ever a time I needed to zip it, it’s now. He still loves me . . .
“Kylie . . .” he warns. “Yeah, you pissed me off. Seven is a far cry from two, right? That’s what your text said.”
“Francis told Novák . . .”
“I heard you on the phone. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe you called him like that. They could have shot you dead right then and there. And this time, there’d’ve been nothing I could have done to prevent it.”
I roll off my back to sit cross-legged. “This time?”
Jaxson doesn’t answer right away and takes his sweet-ass time readjusting his big, beautiful body into a seated position, stretching his long legs out on either side of me.
“How many times have there been?
I stare at him, incredulous, as he begins to count on his fingers.
“You didn’t terminate the big-bellied Prick on the sidewalk because you were trying to even the odds?”
“Hell no. You know what you are doing. You could have handled two of them.”
“Why protect me if you planned on terminating me?”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d never have survived our initial reunion. Didn’t I wait until the last possible minute to report in to Hayden?”
“Yes, but why risk it?”
“The same reason why I’ve got this K on my shoulder.”
He loves me. Oh my God. He loves me.
“You shot at me. Multiple times.”
“Like I said, I was pissed off. Needed a little time to cool down before we talked.”
I don’t know whether to clobber him or hug him. “What if you missed?
“Show me your bullet wounds.”
I gasp.
“Either I’m the worst sniper on the planet or you’re the luckiest woman ever.”
I bite my lip and consider the shots he’d taken. The cell phone in my hand, at the teahouse. Both perfectly precise shots. Both misses.
“You never meant to kill me?”
“I wanted answers, plain and simple. And I got them. And even if your reasons for doing what you did turned out to be one big bitch move, I would never have obeyed Hayden’s order.”
“Hayden . . .”
Jaxson shakes his head. “Believe it when I say, the hit is real.”
“Is?”
“Yeah. And there’s probably a hit out now for me as well. I haven’t called in since the church. Actions have consequences, right?”
“Jesus, Jaxson. What are you waiting for?”
“You. After you told me about your sister, the danger she was in, why you were late. I figured I’d give you a chance to take out Novák.”
“But you were following me.”
“I didn’t say I’d let you do it all by yourself. Goddamn it. I had no idea you’d pull a dumb move like that. Calling Francis and distracting them away from me. Fuck, Kylie. What were you thinking?”
Thinking? About you. It’s always been you.
Love is like a roller-coaster ride. You take off toward the unknown, full of giddy anticipation, then you hit a loop, are flipped upside down, thrust forward then into reverse until your stomach is in your throat and all you can think about is when the madness will end. And you know what, I’ll take this ride again and again so long as Jaxson is tugging me along and charming me into sitting in the front seat next to him.
“I was thinking how I love you. How I never wanted to hurt you yet did so over and over again. How I missed you, mourned you, felt like wringing your neck and wrapping my arms around your shoulders and holding you tight. I never got over you when you were dead. Then, you weren’t and . . .” His huge grin steals my words away. Still, I manage to add, “Just like with Madelyn, I’d do anything for you. I love you so bleeding much.”
Jaxson rolls to his feet and reaches his hand out to me.
I take it.
“Time for that shower.”
I open then close my mouth. Would another “I love you” back kill him?
“When I reserved this room, I decided it’d be our room. How I’d lock you inside it, tie you to the bed, kiss you until you begged me for more, then we’d work out our issues and fuck. Or visa versa.”
“The bed is that way.” I point over my shoulder as he leads me into the bathroom.
“After I used the shower, all I could imagine was fucking you inside it, the jet spray showing down on us, washing away the grime, the past, our troubles. How much I need to hold you, claim you, make you wild for my touch. Make you love me.”
“I do love you.”
He works my skinny jeans down over my legs like a professional. And I let him. Because when the love of your life—with whom you’ve just survived a rather harrowing “rough patch in your relationship”—blatantly reveals he’s been fantasizing about fucking you inside a shower, what’s a gal to do?
Especially when he’s got this naughty look in his eyes as he masterfully undresses you.
Quicker than you can say oh la la, my panties are off, along with my ruined shirt and lovely purple bra he’d had a sneak preview of back in the hotel room. Yep, masterful. He’s just that good.
Don’t you know it.
“I’m going to do what I’ve been dying to do, even those times I let you go.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. You let me go.”
He leads me to stand before an enormous shower encased in clear glass and turns the faucet on. Three jets in the wall and one large rain-simulating jet overhead make this the most wonderful shower I’ve ever been inside. Yet I’m too distracted by him to appreciate it.
“Let’s see,” he continues, “Strangled to unconsciousness. Hit over the head with a chair. Pushed into a filthy river. You’re good, fireball. And you dealt with Novák. But I’ve got years of experience on you. Yeah, I let you go. Every goddamn time.”
He strips off his clothes as he speaks and his thick erection rises up in greeting.
But I’m flabbergasted by what he’s saying. Oh my God. And here, I’m thinking a month of Hayden’s Hell prepared me for him. When all along, I should have realized no amount of mercenary training could ever be enough when dealing with a seasoned player like Jaxson.
“Every time you rushed off, you know what I was thinking? That the next time we cross paths, I’m going to fuck her good and silly. Make her cry out for me, make me forget. Fuck away the pain. Hell, welcome a little pain with a whole lot of pleasure.”
He places a hand on my shoulder and nudges me to step inside. “Hang onto the stall door and be prepared to beg me to smack that sweet ass of yours while I’m thrusting up inside that beautiful pussy I’ve been missing so much. You ready for me, fireball?”
“God, yes.”
I scoop up the designer soap, wet it beneath a jet, then rub it across my breasts, taking extra time soaping them up.
“If I remember correctly, you like me dirty. Underneath fallen trees. Bent over your knee. Taking you deep, making me crazy for your cock. But how about we start new? Let’s get cleaned up. Me first. Do you want to watch while I lather my breasts, my stomach, rub this small bar of soap between my thighs?”
“Fuck, better than I imagined.” I turn and catch the upward tilt of his lips as well as the lustful gleam in his eyes, as he turns to close the shower stall door behind him. Yep, the sexy charmer I’ve grown to love is alive and well, and wanting me. Yet the naughty girl in me is itching to tease him a bit. Teach him a lesson in how it feels to be wildly aroused, wet, then left hung out to dry.
I slide the soap across my stomach. “Or maybe you want it dirty? Well, you’re in luck because today, I’m such a dirty girl with a dirty little mouth. Any suggestions what to do about it?”
“I’ve got the perfect remedy.”
I work the soap over my sensitive nub, back and forth. Every nerve in my body springs to life. For a moment, I abandon my teasing him, caught up in my need to arch my hips upward and rub my sensitive hood against the soap. He groans deep in his throat.
Music to my ears.
Straightening a finger, I work the bar between my thighs to my folds, soaping up my lips before parting them with my digit.
“Yeah, fuck. Do it. Come for me before I thrust my tongue deep inside and devour every goddamn inch of you.”
Jesus, a sexier man doesn’t exist. Just the thought of him on his knees and burying his face between my thighs has my core clenching tightly around my finger. When God created Jaxson, he made perfection. A man who loves oral sex, going down a woman, working her to a climax; blessed with talented fingers, full gorgeous lips, and a tongue that redefines the word devilish. I fight off a moan and instead, remove my hand, step back, and allow the jets to do their magic. Then I do a little magic trick of my own.
Oops. The soap accidently slips out of my hands and lands perfectly in front of Jaxson’s toes. I sink to my haunches to retrieve it, and am rewarded with his erection standing at full glorious attention and thickening just inches from my mouth. I angle my head back and roll faux-innocent eyes up at him. “You like me on my knees, huh? With my dirty little mouth a lick away from your beautiful large erection?”
“Hand me the soap,” he commands. “Because I’m going to rub it over your skin while I fuck you standing up. And when I’m done with that, I’m going to spend hours between your thighs eating you out. And then, if you’re still wanting more, maybe I’ll let you take me in your mouth.”
Sweet Mary. I don’t simply reach for the soap, I make a hasty grab for it. But I pause before standing to run my tongue over the smooth wet head of him.
Just a taste.
Just giving him something to think about.
He hisses, and then I’m hauled to my tippy-toes, my toes dragging across the floor as he pulls me into him. With expert movements, he’s got my right thigh anchored to his side and has me precariously balancing myself on my other leg. And oh sweet Mary, his thick erection is now nestled between my folds.
I hold onto him with one hand and take hold of his free hand with the other. “Here’s the soap, baby.”
He grins, and I know I’m in trouble. “Thanks. Guess I’ll get to work holding up my end of the bargain,” he murmurs before producing a condom out of nowhere and tearing the foil open with his teeth.
My eyebrows widened. All the while, he’s had a condom cupped within his palm?
He winks at me. Yes. Of course he did. I squeal, caught off-balance when he suddenly moves. But he keeps my thigh anchored in place with one hand while he shifts and moves to roll the condom across his erection with the other.
“Now let’s see about getting you cleaned up,” he says with a smug grin, then thrusts inside me. Arching his hips, he thrusts again, embedding himself inside me.
He withdraws and sinks back in. Driving home again. And again. The fourth time, I’m ready for him and push my thigh into his side as he plunges into me, deepening his movement.
I inhale, breathing in the clean, lemony smell as he runs the soap over my collarbone and holds true to his promise of fucking me while washing me—without breaking his stride.
Soon, the beautiful friction of our lovemaking grows more and more intense. His erection thickens. I tighten around him. Until I’m moaning with need.
“That’s right. Come for me. And when you do, know this. I promise you, this is the first of many, fireball. You can plan on me loving you every hour of every day and us fucking like rabbits well into the night.”
I moan.
“I’m never going to lose you again.”
His thrusts deepen and his pace quickens and my climax lifts me off my toes.
“Jaxson, oh Jaxson,” I cry out. The first time in months, his name rolls off my tongue with pleasure, not pain.
“I’ve got you, Kylie. I’ll always have you.”
I shake and arch against him as my orgasm hits me hard, completely shattering me as wave after wave of pleasure grabs hold of me.
Jaxson moans, drives deep, then stills. “Kylie,” he murmurs, catching the tail end of my orgasm as he climaxes.
Moments pass and we simply hold each other. My fingers caress the K branded across his upper back while he nuzzles my neck and we find peace within each other’s arms.
Finally, he releases my leg and slides out. Then he takes care of me in such a gentle way, I feel like crying. He washes my entire body, shampoos my hair, even soaps my feet until, as promised, every bit of me is grime-free and trouble-free.
I go to return the favor but he shakes his head and quickly turns his attention toward his own needs.
Even while washing himself, Jaxson’s sexy as hell.
Yet before we step out of the shower, he does the most shocking thing. He draws a watery J on my arm. “I’m always branding you with my finger. Figures I’d end up with your initial on me. Did that asshole ask you for a letter?”
I nod.
“J?”
I shake my head. “F.U.”
Jaxson bursts out laughing. “God, that temper of yours is something.”
“Well, I was pissed off.”
He’s still laughing as we step out of the shower and he dries me off with a fluffy white towel.
My body feels like liquid. My heart feels golden. “Jaxson, how did you escape the Pricks?” I murmur, hating to ruin the moment but needing to know.
“Hayden.”
My eyebrows arch and almost touch the ceiling. “He put a hit out on me for killing you when all the time, he knew you were alive.”
“Keeping up appearances. Can’t have traitors within TORC . . .”
“Francis,” we both say at the same time.
I scowl. “Hayden should have put a hit out on him. It’d have solved a lot of problems.”
“I’m not an expert at reading Hayden’s mind. But it’s safe to say if he put one out on you, he’s likely covered all the bases. What I’m having trouble understanding is why he’d send me after you. Knowing—”
“That you love me?” I grin up at him. God, after all we’ve been through, I can’t believe this is really happening. “Guess Hayden figured after his stone-cold killer couldn’t get the job done, he’d send in the player.”
“No. We’re not giving Hayden credit where credit is due. Manipulative bastard. Maybe he knows me a bit too fucking well . . .”
“What do you mean?”
Jaxson sighs. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll call him tomorrow. Report in together and bear the consequences together.”
“No time like the present. We could do it right now.”
“No can do. I’ve got other plans for you. There’s a chair in the bedroom. It looks exactly like the one you smashed over my head.”
“A Louis XIV?”
He shrugs. “While I’m finishing up here, go inside and climb up on it. Then brace yourself. Because by the time I’m done fucking you this time around, that chair is going to be toast.”
“Seriously?” I glance down. Yep, seriously. The man is a fucking machine.
“Do it and you’ll find out.”
I unwrap the towel he’s wrapped around me, toss it to him, and, shaking my ass, march into the bedroom.
He makes a noise deep in his throat as he enters the bedroom.
“Like this?” I innocently ask, peering over my shoulder at him.
“Beautiful,” he says, coming up behind me. “I imagined you just like this.”
“You fantasized about fucking me on this chair?” I ask, then squeal as he lightly smacks my ass with his palm. “Where else,” I manage to ask as he takes hold of my hips and slides his cock inside me.
“You’re going to find out. The hard way, fireball.”
With masterful precision, Jaxson lives up to his promises, causing the chair to rock, my world to roll, and the oh-la-la to rush back into my life with a vengeance.