“It’s torture. You know that, right?”
“What’s torture, angel?”
“The way you’re touching me. Teasing me. It’s… God, Jax. Your hands are fucking amazing.”
“Thesehands? These hands right…” I slid them down her back, down to her hips, then around the front, gently parting her thighs. “…here?”
“Yes, that’s…” Her words trailed off into a moan.
“Lie back, angel. Close your eyes.”
She did as I asked, resting the back of her head on my shoulder, her body stretched out before me. Her breasts peeked out above the waterline, and I blew a cool breath down over her shoulder. Her nipples hardened in response.
I cupped a handful of water, then poured it over her shoulder, watching it slide down between her breasts. My other hand snaked around her hip, dipping between her thighs again, a slow and lingering brush of skin on skin as I teased her clit with the barest pressure.
“Why?” she breathed. “Why are you still single?”
I laughed. “Fairly certain the answer to that question would fill up several volumes, not to mention completely kill the mood.” I stroked her again, applying a little more pressure but keeping my movements slow and controlled.
Torture, just like she’d said.
From the bright flush of her skin and the hard points of her nipples, I knew she was enjoying every second of it. I slid a middle finger inside her, then drew back, circling her clit before dipping back inside, deeper this time, then out once more, every touch bringing her closer.
“I’m going to make you come now, angel,” I whispered, biting her earlobe. “But I want you to remainabsolutelystill for me. Don’t arch your back, don’t tighten your muscles, don’t even curl your toes. Just let it wash over you.”
She murmured my name, her breath turning shallow as I stroked, my touch still so soft, so slow, until I felt the barely perceptible quickening of her heartbeat and knew she was right there.
Plunging my fingers inside, I finally brought her to ecstasy, and my angel did just as I asked, holding herself completely still in the water, my name a sharp gasp on her breath as the pleasure rippled through her body.
After a few silent, blissful moments, she finally turned around again in my arms. Her cheeks were darker now, her damp hair curling around a soft smile.
I held her face in one hand and gazed into her eyes, black pupils swimming in a green sea.
“Every time I look into your eyes,” I whispered, “I forget how to breathe.”
Never before had I so desperately wished for the eye I’d lost. Wished for my full vision, so I could see every contour, every shadow as it was meant to be seen.
As if she could read my thoughts, Haley traced her fingertips along the edges of my makeshift eye patch.
“Let me see you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
I grabbed her wrists and shook my head, ducking her intense gaze. “You don’t need to see all of me, angel. Trust me on that.”
“Jax.”
I didn’t respond, shame burning through me. It’d never bothered me so much before—the scars, the mottled, caved-in flesh where my eye used to be. I’d gotten used to it, and there was no point in dwelling on shit that couldn’t be fixed anyway.
But now, the thought of her seeing me… Finding me lacking…
No. I couldn’t bear it.
“Jax,” she said again, and I finally looked up at her again, everything in me suddenly wound tight with new fury.
It wasn’t Haley I was furious with. It was Saint. Keradoc. This fucking place, and everything we’d done to stay alive here the first time. Everything we’d done to get the fuck out and try to start over in New Orleans.
And now we were back here, doing the bidding of a warlord who took pleasure in threatening the woman we both so obviously loved.
But Haley was the one in front of me now, soft and beautiful next to my hard, ugly, jagged edges, so she was the one who took the brunt of my anger.
