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Once he’d gotten out and dressed, the clock on the wall read eight-thirty. He opted to eat one of Teagan’s pop tarts for breakfast and throw together a sandwich to take with him for lunch. He’d chip in on the groceries that afternoon whether or not she wanted him to. He then ducked out of her place, locking the door behind him.
It felt like almost the second he set foot outside her place, everything caught up to him.
All the second thoughts and guilt and realizations that there was no fucking way he could keep doing this. That if she knew what he’d done, she’d never look at him like she did that morning. It all hit him like a dump truck emptying its contents on top of him where he stood. The good night’s sleep wrapped in her arms meant nothing. His arms felt weight down and heavy. He had to drag himself into movement.
Climbing into his truck, he started the engine, taking a long moment to stare straight ahead while the engine idled and warmed up a bit.
He didn’t dare remain for too long, but once he started driving, he took the now-familiar route to his house and tried like hell not to think about every little thing that was beating down on the top of his head like it was trying to get him to drill a hole in the ground beneath him. A hole. A grave, more like. And pull the dirt back over his head and there he’d be.
Maybe it was where he needed to be. Buried away from everyone he’d hurt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Because thiswouldhurt Teagan. Once she found out what he’d done to her father. Once Eric made good on his threat. Jaxon wasn’t sure how he was going to do it. Or when. But he knew he’d gone and pissed Eric off by getting involved with Teagan. And he’d somehow given him another way to hurt him. To keep hurting him. Eric could reveal this one bit of information and simultaneously destroy the pride Mr. Madden had in him, his friendship with Brad, and his relationship with Teagan, all in one horrible swoop.
He pressed his lips together as he pulled into the drive of his house. He hit the curb funny and the resulting bump rattled his teeth, causing him to bite down painfully on his bottom lip. He jammed the truck into park and climbed out, jingling his keys to find the right one to open the front door, determined to stop thinking about Eric and his threats the second he crossed the threshold.
It smelled like paint and wallpaper glue when he first opened it. The smell grounded him in the present and while the worries were still there, they felt muted as he forced himself to take stock of everything he’d done.
There couldn’t be that much left to do, right? He feverishly looked around the living room. He had to call HVAC to get the heating fixed. But besides that, he was basically finished, right? He walked through the house, stopping in the kitchen for a long moment before turning and walking towards the master bedroom.
It was close to nine a.m. by now. That meant he was down to six hours until he could see Teagan again. The thought lightened his heart. If he could just push the rest of that stuff down and keep his mind on her, he could manage.
So he let his mind wander while he strolled into the master bedroom and gazed up at the ceiling. When he looked up, he thought about the way she’d looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and dark while he worked his fingers in and out of her, helping her reach her peak with just his touch and nothing more. He smirked a little, eyes blinking up at the popcorn ceiling, but his mind was miles away with her in bed. It was hard not to feel like a fucking sex god when she looked at him like that.
The thing was, he’d been alright before her. Alright, but not spectacular. The women he was with never complained, but he knew he could do better, he just hadn’t really felt pushed to do better. No need to fix what wasn’t broken, right? But there was something about the way she touched him, gripped his hair, said his name… it just made himbetter. At everything. He wasn’t like this with any of the others. Just her.
He swallowed thickly and let his eyes focus on the ceiling. He still had to knock all this out and vault the ceiling.
Jaxon turned around and crossed the hall to step into the bathroom, pulling the string on the bare bulb and looking around the space that had been built under the stairs. The previous owners had expanded the room to create a little alcove that extended into the living room next to the stairs. They’d done it to put in a bathtub instead of just a shower stall.
The shower made him think of the lovely experience he’d had the night before. When Teagan had slipped into the shower with him and dropped to her knees, taking his cock in her mouth and making him wonder what in the fuck he’d ever done to deserve someone as wonderful as her.
And okay, she was a little sloppy in her technique, but it wasTeagan, he could forgive the bloody technique.
Sniffing to bring himself out of the memory, he blinked down at the shower stall. At the tub.
Now that he was looking, the tub looked a little grungy. And the tile could stand to be regrouted. Or replaced entirely.
And fresh paint would be remiss either.
The swinging bulb was making a circuit at the end of the cord it was hanging from, casting a moving center of light that made everything look that much worse.
He’d install a light fixture as well.
As he crossed back out into the living room, he paused in front of the couch. The one where she was supposed to sleep that first night that felt like so long ago but was just weeks before.
Her hair had gotten in his face. In his mouth. Jaxon chuckled because he’d never thought of tying it back now. He loved it.
Likedit. He liked her hair in his face.
He moved to the bottom of the staircase and tested the banister out of habit. Solid as a stone. Handrail too. He’d fixed the banister in those days after she’d run out of here. It gave him something to do, but it hadn’t been enough to keep his mind off her.
Now, he’d do anything to keep his thoughts centered on her. What a difference a few days made.
The time he spent upstairs was minimal. It was just a large room that extended the length of the house. The ceiling was bare though, so he could break this up into smaller rooms if he wanted. Hell, it wouldn’t be hard to get two more bedrooms up here. Maybe a den too. And a second half-bath.
It was what the previous owners wanted to do with the place, but hadn’t gotten further than fucking up the basement.
