WE RODE UNTIL DUSK, ONLY stopping twice for washroom breaks and a snack. I never said anything and neither did he. I kept my hands off him while we rode and he kept his speed reasonable.
He turned down a long, narrow driveway and then cut the engine in front of a cute Spanish-style house with a wraparound porch. I slid off and briefly looked around, noticing the beautiful red carnations and bluebells at the side of the house.
My pulse slowly rose as I admired them. Wildflowers had a fragile beauty about them with incredible resilience to withstand the test of nature. Their stems swaying and bending to the harsh winds and rain, yet if they were strong enough, they’d stand tall again when the sun’s rays shone down on them.
And yet . . .
When people easily snipped their stems, each day the flower’s life slowly faded.
That was what had been done to me when Drake took me. Cut from my stem—my home. Taken from my element, and each day I dried up until I had nothing left.
A stem of who I’d once been. Who I was supposed to grow into.
Xamien may have saved the shell of me, but I’d never be the same. And now Jasper . . . he was the violent storm, trying to unearth me and I was holding on with both hands and fighting back. I couldn’t let go. I had to stay hidden for my own survival as well as for the safety of others. Already I’d lost my mother and Talde because of who I was.
My breath hitched as his hands settled on my hips, his chest up against my back.
My pulse spiked.
I clamped my teeth. Pursed my lips. I went to elbow him in the gut when his hands tightened and his low voice drizzled into my ear like a distant muffled roar of thunder. “Be nice, sunshine.”
Oh, he had no idea how nice I’d been to him.
I heard the bang of a screen door and looked up at the house. A woman, who looked to be about thirty, stopped on the top step of the porch, and then shielded her eyes with her hand. A brilliant smile surfaced and a dignified squeal, if you could call any squeal dignified, but this woman managed it somehow.
“Mon cheri.” And she was French—great. “You should’ve told me you were coming.” She walked . . . no strolled toward us, hips swaying rhythmically side-to-side like a pendulum—a voluptuous pendulum.
Jasper shifted closer and his cock pressed against my lower back—his hard cock. And instead of thinking what the fuck was he doing with a hard cock, I was thinking if his hard cock was because of me or her?
He whispered, “Play along, please. She’s human and knows nothing about the Scars.”
I hated playing along. That was why I kept to myself. “Why are we here?” We’d passed a nice bed and breakfast fifteen minutes ago.
“Because her coffee rocks.”
I was pretty sure Jasper thought her coffee rocked because the French woman had rocked something else beforehand. And I was pretty sure if the woman served him mud after sex, he would’ve thought it tasted good.
He stepped away from me and for a brief second, I wanted him back. I wanted it to be me who rocked. I crossed my arms, my back stiff as I stood watching the scene unfold.
The woman with the chic shoulder-length blonde hair with a few streaks of subtle red interwoven, bit her lower lip then slowly let it slide from between her teeth. She certainly wasn’t paying attention to me. I could flap my arms and dance around like a chicken and the woman wouldn’t have noticed. Her eyes were on Jasper as he walked toward her.
She fell against him, long spider-like arms wrapping around his neck, painted pink nails disappearing into his hair. She dragged his head down . . . dragged was the wrong word as Jasper didn’t look like he was being dragged anywhere he didn’t want to go. And then she kissed him.
Jasper had both his hands on her waist and an odd pain clutched at my chest as I looked away.
But it was like trying to not look at a car wreck and I glanced up again just as they broke apart. The woman whispered to him and I heard him chuckle quietly. I think the woman might have completely ignored me if Jasper hadn’t turned to me and then said something to her which made her look over at me and laugh. It was a high-pitched shrill that sounded like an off-tuned cello.
I was good at acting impassive. That was how I’d survived living with Drake for so long. So, when Jasper and lip biter turned to me, I held my chin high and met them head on.
“Max. Julianna has offered us dinner and a place to crash for the night. She also has some disinfectant to put on that scratch of yours.”
Fucking lovely.
Julianna ran a finger down his cheek to his chin then lower to trail a path down his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away, and then said something to her. She glanced over at me and glared. Jasper leaned toward her again and said something else and she smiled, her white teeth sparkling against her blood red lips.
She slid her hand down his tatted arm until her fingers linked with his and then turned, heading back inside with Jasper in tow. I crouched beside the bike and started unhooking the bag.
“I’ll get it later. Get in here, Max. We need to re-bandage that wound,” Jasper called over his shoulder. Then the screen door clanged shut behind them.
I ignored him and grabbed the bag, stood and threw it over my shoulder. I’d never cared about my looks before, but now I was running my fingers through my tangled hair that had become a bird’s nest after riding for hours on the back of his bike. Juliana had her hair done, make-up perfectly drawn and she was wearing a cute pair of beige shorts and a button-down white blouse that was tied at the waist to show off her tanned stomach.
The screen door creaked open again. “Angel,” Jasper yelled. He scowled when he glanced at the bag and waited while I walked across the yard. I avoided looking at him as I slid by him. He took the bag off my shoulder then stopped me by snagging my hand. He pulled me into him, so my back was snug against his chest. “Julianna and I . . .” He stopped and a tremor erupted in his chest as he growled.
I had no qualms about finishing what he was about to say. “Have fucked? No need to explain. I really don’t care.” The words were ground out even though I tried my best to hide my anger. Jesus, why was I angry? I should be happy he was getting laid. Then he’d leave me the hell alone.
He leaned in and lowered his voice, his lips next to my ear. “You sure about that?” His arm around my waist squeezed and I dug my fingernails into the back of his hand as hard as I could.
He abruptly let me go and I turned around and waited until his eyes were on mine before I mimicked Julianna’s lip action, the slow glide of my tongue wetting my lower lip. “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”
His jaw clenched and the confident smirk erased as his lips pressed together. “Careful,” he murmured.
I knew I was playing with a dangerous man, but I was tired of being careful and Jasper unleashed my recklessness. I inhaled his scent and it felt as if a latch lifted and I could finally take a deep breath. I smiled and he scowled.
I heard footsteps and looked past him into Julianna’s quaint house. She stood on the oak staircase watching us and with her thin red lips pursed and her nails digging into the handrail, she looked like one pissed-off cat with its hackles up.
I didn’t know why I did it, maybe because Jasper was opening up a part of me I didn’t understand. But something rose inside me and it was spiteful. I considered myself clever, calm, sane . . . until this moment.
I stepped closer to Jasper and put my hand on the waistband of his jeans right at the button then fiddled with it, making sure my fingers brushed against his abdomen. His body tensed and I could feel his eyes driving into me, but I kept my head lowered.
Then when I thought he might crack and grab my wrist and yank me away, I slipped my hand lower over the straining bulge. Shivers immediately flowed through my body, but it wasn’t cold shivers; it was sparks of fire. The touch of him beneath my hand was magnetic and it took me a second to get control of my expression before I peered up over my shoulder at Julianna.
She had no idea what I was doing with my hand as I stroked up and down then gently squeezed. And that did it. Jasper roughly latched onto my wrist and yanked my hand away.
And this was the stupidity part. I shouldn’t have looked up at him—I did. And what I saw was a blazing, heated look in his eyes that was anger and desire all rolled into one.
I wanted him to throw me against the wall and fuck me right there. I didn’t even care that Julianna would see it happen. Shit, I wanted her to.
Get control of yourself, Max. I was slipping, but for once, I wanted Jasper to be the one out of control.
I forced a smile then leaned in close, went on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “Who am I to you?” I knew my question could be taken in two different ways and I was no seductress; actually, I’d never seduced a man in my life.
Jasper wasn’t smiling. He looked pissed off. “Don’t fuck with me, Max. You’re nothing to me except a job.”
It was cruel, harsh, but what had I expected? “Not what I was asking.” His hands settled on my waist and I tried like hell to keep my breath steady. “I meant who am I to you. As in what does the sex goddess over there know?”
Jasper’s brows lifted and his hands rose a little higher so that his thumbs rested just under my breasts. He leaned in and whispered, “My sister.”
I huffed. “She’ll never believe that.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she believes. She’ll accept whatever I tell her.” Then his hands dropped from me and he turned and walked to Julianna and looped his arm around her waist. “Anything to eat, Jules?”
Her laugh sent a shrill down my spine and the cold ice wall slammed shut over my emotions. They walked toward the kitchen arm in arm; Julianna leaned over as if to nibble on his ear and I saw him pull away from her, but then she said something and he chuckled.
I hated him.