Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jaxon doesn’t come back that night. Nor the night that follows. Nor the night that follows that.
He’s MIA once again. But something tells me this particular absence has nothing to do with work. The jerk is punishing me.
Two mornings ago, as I was eating breakfast, Melanie walks into the kitchen all decked out in an all-black getup, telling me Jaxon woke her up at four in the morning and dragged her on a mission with him and Kavon. Knowing the deal she and I have, that I go on all missions with her, Jaxon deliberately rushed her out of the house so she wouldn’t have a chance to wake me up.
If that’s not evidence he’s being spiteful and vindictive, I don’t know what is.
Friday evening finds me tangled up on the couch in the living room with Collin, watching the telly. Kavon is out, and Melanie and Jo have been locked up in their room all day.
I’m lying on my side, a throw pillow stuffed under my cheek, my legs thrown over Collin’s lap while he’s slumped on the couch, one muscular leg thrown over the armrest, his fingers absently fondling my toes.
A paranormal show with vampires is on, and while he quite literally had to haul me away from my laptop to come watch it with him, I have to admit it’s mildly interesting. The falsity and implausibility of it does sweep me away from reality for a while, taking my mind off all the things I don’t want to be thinking about.
Like Jaxon. Where he is, and if he’s back to bonking all his girls again.
Wanker.
Collin’s toe fondling pauses as the show eases into a raunchy scene, his attention rapt. The main character has his girlfriend up against a wall in the kitchen, kissing her with mad passion. He moves away from the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist and carries her to the table, deposits her there, and rips off her blouse. Feverishly, he kisses her neck and cups her breasts. When she dips her hand down his sweatpants, I let out a tiny gasp.
Just like that, I’m thinking about Jaxon. He’s in my head. His touch is on my skin. His mouth is on me. I can feel every tremble, every ache, every pulse from that night. Withdrawing my legs from Collin’s lap, I curl them in and clench my thighs.
Collin looks over at me. “You good?”
Focused on the telly, I nod. But once his attention returns to the show, I contemplate him surreptitiously.
In terms of hotness, I cannot compare him to Jaxon. They’re two completely different types of beautiful, in such a way that I can’t say one is hotter than the other. I just know that I’m insanely attracted to Jaxon.
That said, the question is… Do I need Jaxon to make me feel all the things I felt the other night? Or will just any man do? It’s all biology, right? Touch me in the right place, in the right way, and I’ll light up like a firecracker, right?
I want to believe it’s the sensations that I crave, and not the man. I mean, it’s not as if he makes me laugh or gives me warmth and easy comfort like Collin does. He’s an impassive pain in the arse most of the time. A total killjoy.
Yes, I’m convinced it’s not the man but the sensations. Sensations I’m positive a sexpert like Collin can give me ten times over…and prove that I don’t need Jaxon.
Uncurling my legs, I push up on my knees and crawl to straddle him, taking him by surprise.
“Whoa, Tim-Tim. Hey—uh, what—” he garbles through a startled chuckle, though his hands settle reflexively on my hips. “Wh-whatchya doing?”
Locking my arms around his neck, I press into him. “I want to kiss you.”
“Kiss me?” He blinks. “Since when?”
“Since just now. That scene…it turned me on. You made me watch it, so you need to do something about it.”
As I move in to press my lips to his, he draws back. “Jaxon?”
“What about him?”
“You’re— Aren’t you…?” He trails off on a frown, confused.
“He found out we’ve been lying about hooking up, and he’s been avoiding me ever since. He mistakenly believes I need him for an orgasm.”
Hopefully mistakenly.
Collin thinks on this for a bit. “Did you two…?”
“No. We didn’t.” I brush my lips against his. “Show me how much I don’t need him, Col. Show me.”
“I can do that for you—” He expels a heavy breath. “But you gotta promise me you won’t expect anything more. ’Cause I’m not that kinda guy, Tim-Tim. No relationships or commitment. Truth is, you’ve got a better chance with Jaxon than with me. I’m a slut, and I’ve no intention of changing. I—”
“Shut up and kiss me, whoremonger,” I snap. “I’d be out of my mind to ask for commitment fr—”
My words are cut off when he grabs my face and kisses me, his tongue plunging inside with urgent ferocity, as if he’s been wanting to do this for a long time.
Although I’m unable to match his fervor, I return the kiss. He’s ravenous. He wants me. Oh, boy, does he want me.
But as deep and impassioned as the kiss is, I feel…nothing. It’s all just mechanical on my end.
Determined to feel something, I tighten my arms around his neck and arch my chest into him.
With a deep groan, he thrusts his hips upward and rolls, making me aware of his hardness.
I feel something, then, a muted creep of arousal. But it’s all biology, because it’s nothing even remotely close to the flaming heat and restless desire I feel with Jaxon.
Collin’s mouth parts from mine and travels down my neck, kissing, nipping, biting. And bit by bit, my arousal spikes.
Good, we’re getting there.
Reaching down, he grasps the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it up over my head, exposing the pink leopard bra he bought me. He looks in appreciation at my girls for a few seconds before shifting in one fluid motion so I’m supine on the couch and he’s between my legs, hovering above me.
“Show me,” I whisper as he gazes down at me in utter adoration.
But by then, even as I say the words, I know it’s not biology that made me feel what I felt with Jaxon.
It’s just Jaxon.
Hard to admit, but I really do need him.
Dammit.
With a flash of that signature grin of his, Collin lowers his head and takes my mouth again.
Mimicking the woman in the TV show, I move my hand down to the waistband of his shorts and dip inside. But before I can wrap my fingers around him, he’s gone.
Gone.
Cool air whooshes over my skin. Goose bumps rise.
A punch.
A groan.
A curse.
Breaths coming in pants, I push up on my elbows, and I stare up at him.
Him.
Jaxon.
Towering over me. With zero, and I mean zero, expression.
Calm as morning tea, he straightens the cuffs of his shirt, as if having to exert himself is such an unwelcome inconvenience. Lacking only a whistle on his lips, he turns and saunters from the room.
What specific type of psychopath is this?
A grunt from Collin has me snapping my attention to him. He’s bleeding. Hunched over one of the armchairs, a hand to his nose, red liquid is gushing through the creases of his fingers.
“Oh my God, Col!” I leap off the couch and rush to him. “Jesus. No, don’t throw your head back like that! That’s bollocks. The blood will just drain down your throat and gag you. Come. Sit down here.”
When he moves to sit in the armchair, I instruct him, “Pinch here with your thumb and forefinger. Good. Now lean forward and breathe through your mouth.”
As he follows my instructions, I yell, “Mel!”
“I’ve been sitting here wondering if you two horn-bags were seriously gonna get it on in the middle of the house we all share.”
Ugh. That annoying, annoying voice.
I glance over my shoulder. Jo sits at the foot of the stairs, a half-empty KFC bucket in her lap, an amused smirk on her lips. To think she’s been there for however long, witnessed it all, and hasn’t made a single attempt to help her bleeding teammate.
The sneer that curls my lips cannot be helped.
Melanie comes running, screeching to halt at the top of the stairs. “What is— Whoa.”
“Get me a rag, some alcohol, a tampon, and ibuprofen,” I tell her.
She dashes off without hesitation.
Collin shakes his head at me, his eyes wide, no doubt grossed out by the mention of the tampon. “I don’t—”
“Shut up and keep still,” I warn. I’m starting to get angry. But not at him, of course.
A few short minutes later, Mel returns with the items and assists me with him, cleaning him up and stopping the blood flow with the tampon—a method he’s very unhappy about.
Once I’m done, I tell him, “Hold your nose again with your thumb and forefinger for one hundred and twenty seconds, then I want you to place this icepack on the bridge of your nose.”
“One hundred and twenty seconds?” he asks with a small smile. “Really?”
“Two minutes,” I simplify.
“Hey.” He points a finger at the top of his head, Blake Shelton style. “Master’s in mathematics, here.”
I grin and touch the side of his face. “Real cocky for a guy with a tampon up his nose, yeah?”
Using his free hand, he tucks strands of stray hair behind my ear. “Thank you, Nerd Girl.”
Melanie clears her throat, drawing my attention. Her lips are pursed, her eyes focused behind me.
I don’t have to ask. I feel him.
A silent growl in my throat, I jump to my feet and whirl to face Jaxon. “What in the bloody hell did you do that for?”
His blank, emotionless gaze sweeps over me, reminding me that I’m still topless. Reminding me just how far I went with Collin. I’m almost ashamed of myself, but I can’t let him see that.
Because, no, I’m not. This is all his fault. If he’d just—
He jerks his chin to indicate Collin and interrupts my inner tirade. “What’s he gonna look like in a few hours?”
I force myself to refocus. Clearly, his concern is not personal but all about business. “It’s not as bad as it looked at first,” I say stiffly. “So he’ll probably just have some blue bruising under his eyes. Nothing a little foundation makeup can’t hide. Are you going to answer my question?”
“Jo, go get him a found—whatever she just said. And Col, pack a playboy outfit and let’s go. Got a time-sensitive job that requires your charms and good looks.”
Collin removes the icepack from his nose and scowls. “Not sure I’m gonna be able to pull off confident or charming with a busted nose, boss. Think maybe you should’ve waited until after the job was done to go all apeshit?”
Jaxon, displaying not an ounce of remorse or apology, merely twists his wrist to check his watch. “Plane leaves in an hour.”
When Collin just continues to glare, Jaxon looks him square in the eye, his tone serious as he tells him, “This is the easiest job you’ll ever do for the biggest commission you’ll ever receive. Trust me, I’ve no problem making this a one-man job.”
Collin grumbles something under his breath, but he pushes to his feet and jogs up the stairs to his room.
“Seems like Col’s been getting all the big jobs lately,” Jo grumbles from where she’s sitting at the foot of the stairs, a hint of malice in her expression. “What’s up with that, boss?”
Jaxon turns slightly, not so he’s facing her, but to grant her a hint of acknowledgment. “Can you seduce a forty-six-year-old woman into taking you to her home so you can screw her brains out with your big, hard cock?”
Jo’s nostrils flare but she doesn’t answer.
“Mel’s been doing your jobs as part of her trial, but you have been receiving the commissions. For doing absolutely nothing. So, what are you complaining about? How, exactly, am I doing you wrong when you’re still getting paid, whether or not the job is done by you?”
“I—”
“Do you know that every time Col gets paid for his jobs that she did, he gives her the bigger cut of it? Do you do that?”
Jo looks away, her lips pressed tight.
“Check your attitude, Johanna,” he admonishes. “Focus on what’s important, and stop searching for reasons to be hateful and bitter all the time.”
“Amen,” I mutter under my breath.
Jo daggers me a baleful glare before she flounces off to her room.
Mel glances from me to Jaxon, then back to me. “You’re good, yeah?”
I glare at the side of Jaxon’s face. “Jolly.”
She shrugs and skips up the stairs two at a time after Jo.
Hands in his pockets, Jaxon shifts to face me square on, watching me with the quiet placidity of a tortoise. Is he just going to stand there and pretend he didn’t just rip Collin off me and bust his nose?
“Go put on something…warm,” he orders me. “And pack a second outfit.”
His open assessment has me self-consciously crossing my arms over my chest. “What for?”
“You’re coming with us.”
“Why? I thought this was a two-man job.” The last thing I want is to be in the same airspace with him right now.
His eyes pierce mine, unwillingly taking my breath away. “I need you there. But not for the job.”
And just like that, my heart starts doing that thing it does whenever he’s around. I step backward, the back of my knees hitting the armchair, preventing me from going farther. “What for, then?”
He comes after me, crowding me. “Can’t say I’ve ever met a promiscuous virgin before.”
I lift my chin. “I wanted to prove I don’t need you.”
Something indefinable flashes across his face. “And the conclusion to this futile experiment…?”
I reach out to touch him, but he swats my hand. It stings. Physically and emotionally. “That it’s not biology that sets me on fire. It’s just…you.”
A muscle twitches in his cheek. “If these are the types of experiments you conduct whenever I leave you behind, then I’m done leaving you behind. You come with me. Everywhere.”
“Or,” I suggest tartly, “you can cuff me to the bed and let Raphael keep an eye on me. He hates me more than you do, so it’s not like I’ll be able to seduce my way out.”
Jaxon crowds in to the point where I’m unable to breathe, sucking up all the air. He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning down so his lips are just a hiss from mine. “Walk away from me right now, go into the shower, and make it scorching hot.” He moves his mouth to my ear, pressing his cheek hard against mine. “I can fucking smell him on you.”