“Put me down right now.”
“Don't want to finish?”My fingers moved faster, sliding in and out of her.“I love the face you make when you finish.”
She clenched around me again and my smile widened.My trouble has a praise kink.Perfection.
“No.Put me down.”
Her defiance was admirable, especially tainted with the flushed cheeks, ragged breaths, and heavy eyes.Sexy, sinful, and seductive—the perfect definition of trouble.
“Your wish is my command,” I drawled.
My fingers curled into her, and I couldn't hear anything over the sound of her soft moan.That little sound might just have been my favorite sound in the world.
“Jaxon.”
I uncurled my fingers and slowly slid them out of her, leveling her with an intense stare.Her parted lips snapped shut, and I let her find her footing before releasing the grip on her waist.The blazing need inside me matched the heat in her eyes.
And I knew one thing—this was far from over.
17 | Why Can't You Make Me Hate You?
Savannah
Iwasdreamingabouthimagain.
Images of him taunted me whenever I closed my eyes, making it next to impossible to find sleep.How was I meant to fall asleep when all I could think about was that lazy smirk, or the scent of his cologne, or the feel of his hands lingering where they shouldn’t have, doing things I pretended not to replay in my head?
It had been two days since I’d last seen Jaxon.Two days since the beach house, since laughter and salt air and moments that felt too intimate for something that was supposed to be fake.
I was back in the city now, back in my bed, back in reality.I’d even skipped the welcome party earlier tonight, claiming a headache, claiming coursework, claiming anything that meant I didn’t have to smile through small talk and pretend I wasn’t unraveling.
Lying still in the dark, I stared at the ceiling and tried to slow my breathing.
I didn’t understand it—the way my body reacted to him.I’d never felt this pulsing need with anyone else before, not even Chase.Five years with Chase, and I’d never felt this restless, this keyed up, this undone by the thought of someone’s hands.
I turned onto my side, then onto my back again, sheets twisted around my legs.I was too warm, my thoughts too loud.
Wanting Jaxon felt inconvenient.
Dangerous.Stupid.
And yet…
He brought me coffee that morning without making it awkward.Didn’t crowd me.Didn’t linger.Just a quiet gesture, left like a question he wasn’t forcing me to answer.I half-expected tension when I woke up alone in that bed, followed by a dose of regret for being so stupid, but when I woke up alone, it gave me a moment to breathe.Instead, there was space.
Consideration.
And somehow, that made it worse.
This wasn’t supposed to get messy.
I turned again, desperate to find a comfortable spot but failing.The deepest parts of my mind told me where I could go to find that comfort, but I wasn't about to play that game with my subconscious tonight.
Twisting and turning in bed was my punishment.
I must be out of my mind to want Jaxon Cage.
