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“Hey,” he says, and tips my head back with his finger. I look into his eyes and see such deep sadness that I almost lose it again. “It’s okay. I’m just sorry that I upset you so much. You deal with so much already; I don’t want to add more.”
The pads of his fingers wipe away the tears that have soaked my face. I will never, in my entire life, understand why someone would leave a man like Jaxon. He has such a big heart.
“Come on. Lie back with me.”
I take in a shaky breath and lie back down. Instead of lying on his back again, Jaxon leans up on his elbow and hovers over me. He gently brushes the hair from my damp face and continues to wipe the wetness away. He then guides a finger down the bridge of my nose. Next, he moves on to my mouth, tenderly running the pad across my lips.
The look in his eyes while he closely watches the movements of his hand makes me quiver. There’s so much heat in his gaze. It makes me nervous, but not in a frightening way. No, it’s the good kind of nervous. The nervous you get when you know something spectacular is going to happen.
Jaxon slowly moves his finger from my lips and trails it down my neck. When he reaches the base, he stops his downward motion and goes across my collarbone. At this point, I let out a low moan at the tingles he’s causing to rush through me. I’m surprised at how my body is reacting to his touch.
Jaxon lifts his eyes to mine at my sharp inhalation. He keeps them there as he moves his finger to the top edge of my bright yellow low-cut shirt and runs it along the top of my breast, watching and waiting to see my reaction.
One day, while out with Anna on one of her shopping expeditions, she talked me into buying the low-cut shirt. Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one, preferring regular t-shirts that rest at the base of my neck. Now though, even if it is almost past the point of my comfort zone, I’m glad I bought it.
Jaxon’s eyes flare and change to the beautiful color of steel blue. His breathing is uneven, and I can tell that he’s just as affected as I am.
“You’re so beautiful, angel,” he whispers to me. The sincerity in his eyes makes me want to believe his words. Butterflies start to flutter in my stomach.
Slowly, he lowers his head and runs his nose across mine before settling his lips on my own. The kiss is soft and sweet, with him playfully nipping and then licking at my lips. When I moan into his mouth, it spurs Jaxon on, and the tempo of the kiss picks up. He thrusts his tongue in my mouth and tangles it with my own.
I place my hands on his shoulders and move them toward his neck. Once there, I thread my fingers through his thick hair. I love the feeling of his soft but coarse hair. I lightly grip it and tug gently.
Jaxon has moved his hand from the tops of my breasts and guides it down my arm, stopping when he’s at my waist. After a minute, it continues its track down my body and crosses over my hip. It doesn’t stop until he reaches the back side of my knee.
Jaxon tugs on my leg up to his hip at the same time he slides one of his in between mine.
When he runs his hand up the back of my leg and settles it on my butt, I feel his erection and an unsettling feeling starts to creep in. I do my best to ignore it. This feels incredibly good, and I don’t want to ruin it. I almost feel normal.
Jaxon releases my lips and kisses the corner of my mouth, my nose, my eyes, my chin, and finally makes his way down my neck. I turn my head to the side to give him easier access. Once he reaches my collarbone, he nips at it with his teeth and then soothes it with his tongue.
I run my hand down his neck and dip my fingers underneath his t-shirt, encountering the smooth, warm skin of his upper back. Jaxon groans into my neck and tightens the hold he has on my butt, causing him to grind harder against me.
The uneasiness gets stronger, but again, I try to push it back. I want this so badly. I may not be able to go all the way, but I want what Jaxon is doing to me. No man has ever made me feel this good, and I have a suspicion that no man besides Jaxon ever will.
Jaxon’s hand moves from its place on my butt to my waist. Just the tips of his fingers slip under my shirt and graze the skin there. Just this little bit of skin on skin contact causes my blood to run cold. I stiffen, but Jaxon doesn’t seem to notice, so intent in his ministrations to my body.
One of my fears of being intimate with a man is exposing my body. I’m riddled with scars anyone would find repulsive.
I squeeze my eyes shut to try to block out the images of Steven doing horrible things to my body, but they slip through. Steven with the crop. Steven with a knife. Steven with his cigar. The pictures slip in and hold me captive.
My breathing has become ragged, and I start to tremble. Tears slip from my eyes as each torturous image filters past. The hand still in Jaxon’s hair unconsciously tightens, alerting him that I’m no longer in the passion-filled moment. He jerks his head up from my neck, and I feel his eyes boring into me, even though mine are still tightly shut.
“Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry, angel.” I flinch at the vehemence in his voice.
“Open your eyes, Bailey. Open your eyes and look at me.” His tone has lightened slightly, but fear has replaced the harshness.
I shake my head at his demand, not wanting to face the disappointment I know will be there. I should have known it wouldn’t work. Steven has ruined me completely. I’ll never be able to be normal and have any type of physical relationship with a man.
Jaxon rests his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I should’ve known you weren’t ready. Please, just look at me so I’ll know you’re okay.”
The pain in his voice is what has my eyes opening. The torment I see causes my heart to stutter. No disappointment to be found, instead, all I can see is shame and misery. As I look deep into his eyes, I realize Jaxon would rather cut off his own hands than hurt me. As screwed up as it sounds, the realization comforts me. I’ve felt for a while now that Jaxon would never purposely hurt me, but the look in his eyes solidifies that feeling.
“I’m okay now. Sorry for freaking out again. You must think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?” I say the last as I glance down at my hands, which are now resting on his biceps.
“No, angel, never that. This is my fault. I pushed you too hard, and I should have known better. I may not know what has you so frightened and skittish, but I do know whatever it is, it’s big. I shouldn’t have lost control.”
I reach up and run my hand over his scruffy cheek. The hair there isn’t long, only a couple days’ worth of growth. It looks incredibly good on him.
