Burn
Page 10
I should have fucking stayed!
But Remy would have gotten to me regardless, and he would have found a way to keep me. But I supposed if I’d just gone to the apartment, Jaxon might have fought harder to get me back.
Oh, such karma! I abandoned him, and now the tables had turned. It fucking hurt.
In a way I was glad for him. He needed to live his life, not get deterred by a woman who betrayed him twice now. Had trusting Remy with the truth been so wrong of me at the time?
Trust is a fickle thing. I just witnessed a bond down the fucking stairs between brothers that looked like it ran far deeper than the core of the fucking earth. Yet someone had slipped this note into my pocket. Someone had done what Jaxon had asked.
Was someone here working for him? Did it even matter anymore?
He’s your soul mate, and you just told him to move on.
Some pains are worth enduring, remember?
*****
I languidly trailed my fingers up and down his torso as I sat over top of him. He gripped my hips and rocked me back and forth. I shut my eyes, focusing on the feel of him as my breathing picked up.
“That’s it,” he whispered huskily. “Come for me, Sara.”
And I did. And it was fucking amazing.
He buckled under me, gripping me even tighter as he came, groaning aloud into the air. I collapsed into his chest, resting the side of my face against his sweaty hard skin.
“Never gets old,” he quietly said, stroking my hair as he caught his breath.
He was still inside of me even minutes after. I didn’t want to separate from him. Things had been rocky lately, and it was nothing to do with him, of course. I wanted to savour this short moment of happiness.
“I have something for you,” he said sometime after.
By then I was falling asleep in his arms. “Hmm?”
He lifted me up and pulled out of me. Then he rested me on the bed and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me with a small smile on his face.
“I have something for you,” he repeated.
I watched him for a moment in thought. “What do you have?”
His small smile widened. “You have to promise not to be upset with me.”
“What have you done, Jaxon?”
He traced his finger along my jaw line with a smug, mischievous look on his face. “Promise me, Tiny.”
Now I was curious. “I promise I won’t be upset.”
He shuffled over to the night stand and opened the drawer. I heard him shuffle things around before he closed it back up and turned to me. In his hand was a small pristinely wrapped gift.
“Happy belated birthday, Sara,” he said.
My jaw dropped. “I told you no gifts!”
He chuckled. “I know and I didn’t. I honoured that, but then… I saw this and I thought of you.”
“Sneaky. Very sneaky.” I couldn’t help my smile.
“Take it.”
As I took it he turned on the lamp beside the bed. I sat up and eyed him with mock disapproval when really I was exploding with glee on the inside. He was still propped on his elbow, lying on his side, looking up at me now with excited eyes.
“Go on,” he ushered me. “Open it.”
“But look how beautifully it’s wrapped,” I replied. “It would be a shame to ruin this work of art.”
“Shut up and tear the wrapping paper, Tiny.”
I tore the wrapping paper off. After admiring the black, squared jewellery box in my hands, I slowly opened it. I broke into an even wider smile at my first ever piece of high-end jewellery. It was a silver heart chain bracelet and it looked amazing.
“Read the heart,” he whispered beside me.
I took the dangling heart into my hands. Diamonds bordered it and glistened under the light as I flipped it. Engraved words on the back read: You’re my ultimate.
“Wow, it’s beautiful, Jaxon.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
He took my wrist and put the bracelet on; all the while I watched him, carefully hiding my melancholy. I’d been treating him badly lately. My anger had taken him off guard, and he seemed to relish my short moments of normalcy.
“Beautiful bracelet for a beautiful woman,” he admired, bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I told him quietly. After being a shit girlfriend, the last thing I deserved was a beautiful bracelet like this.
“They say you can judge how well a woman is taken care of by her jewellery,” he replied, eyeing me with his tender blue eyes. “I want you to be taken care of. I want this to be the first of many. I want to spoil you with every penny I get.”
I beamed brightly. “Then I’ll treasure this forever as my first ever piece of jewellery.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. I’d left behind the bracelet in my haste to leave and hadn’t realized it until long after.
It was another life’s regret of mine.
Eight
He didn’t stumble to his room. He walked assertively with a few minor missteps here and there…
Okay, he stumbled to his room. He was a little tipsy, but it’d been a long while since he’d had that much to drink. Remy had been so consumed in his conversation with Logan, he’d completely lost track of time. After batting away slender arms that belonged to a series of women he didn’t want, he went in search for Sara.
The first thought that entered his mind when he didn’t find her with Tessa and Dayna was: fuck, did she take off? He wouldn’t have been surprised. This was her first real freedom with him. Everyone was preoccupied by their own shit. Parties at the clubhouse were wild, and no one would have stopped her from leaving the premises. They wouldn’t have even noticed!
Fuck, she left. Of course she fucking left. She’d spent nights in the same bed as him and hadn’t made a fucking move. He’d held her captive and tried his hardest to make her need him. Maybe she’d realized his cruel intentions and taken off. Had she gone back to him? God, he’d kill him if she did.
But the second he opened his bedroom door, he saw her figure in his bed. He let out a relieved breath as he shut the door behind him. She was sleeping peacefully on her side with her hands cupped together beneath her chin. Remy threw his leather vest off and then his boots, watching her intensely even though she’d made zero movement.
He climbed into bed behind her. Normal patient Remy was now a tipsy, irrepressible ball of feelings. She hadn’t left. She’d stayed right here. Maybe she did want this. Maybe she could be trusted after all.
He couldn’t help himself. His self-control had weaned significantly after all that alcohol. He lightly stroked her bare arm, feeling her silky soft skin beneath his fingertips. It was electrifying that a simple touch of her skin had given him bolts of pleasure. Imagine more. He rested on his side just behind her and continued to stroke her arm. His face neared the back of her head, taking in the scented raspberry shit she shampooed her hair with. It was to fucking die for.
Tipsy Remy nuzzled his nose until he felt the skin on the back of her neck. Then he trailed it up to her ear, closing his eyes tightly at the warmth she was radiating into his being. This girl.
This.
Fucking.
Girl. Her slight movement threw off his jive. Her head turned to him, and he could feel her breaths against his face. He opened his eyes and regarded his Birdy. To his surprise, she was wide awake and hardly an inch from his face. Her eyes looked right into his and then at his lips, emanating a vulnerability he couldn’t decipher fast enough. She’d purposely let her guard down for him. Was this her offering herself up to him? Was this permission?
He didn’t want to ask. He just wanted to take.
It seemed so natural moving in for the kiss. Tipsy, pussy-whipped Remy couldn’t help the groan that escaped his mouth the second his lips made contact with hers. They were so soft. So full. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was falling apart within seconds. He brought a hand to her face, keeping her at level with his mouth so he could continue to taste the finest thing he’d ever touched.
She kissed back, opening her mouth wider to let him in. The second his tongue brushed against hers, he was gone. Absolutely fucking gone.
So this is perfection.
Suddenly Remy understood all that bullshit about love. Who would have guessed that those horrendous romance movies were right? You’d endure the worst kind of evil just to have a taste of this. He felt his heart explode into a million little pieces, and he didn’t give a shit that he was falling hard. In that moment, he was engulfed in a kind of bliss that was pure, uninhibited heaven. The angel beneath him was worth it all. He’d always known it, and now it was solidified.
She wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him further into her mouth. He didn’t want to stop, even when he needed to come up for air; he was happily drowning in her. He felt her other hand slide down his back and then she was pulling up his shirt.
Fuck. Yes.
He threw it off and grabbed at hers. He gently lifted it over her head, and by then she’d wrapped her legs around his hips. He was rock hard and the sudden friction she was trying to create against her pussy had just about made him come.
Fuck no.
He wouldn’t. He’d never been so undone so shortly into foreplay before. What was she doing to him?
Remy rested over her again, feeling her bare skin against his. He moved his hand up and down her body, stopping repeatedly at her breasts. He wanted nothing more than to tear the bra straight off and lap his tongue against her nipples, but he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. There was something about her kiss; it felt like he was pouring his soul into her and she was sucking him dry and owning him – which was fucked up because he’d always intended to be the possessor. But shit, who cares? He’d gladly be the bitch if she was the master.
Sara pushed his face away from her and harshly brought his mouth to her neck. She was gladly offering it, but for what? Did she want to be marked? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He licked her neck and then sucked fiercely, relishing in the softness of her skin. She moaned loudly and gripped his hair until his scalp burned.
Perfection. He moved back to her mouth, grinding himself against her. Yes, yes, yes. He was going to own this body. He was going to be deep inside that in a few moments time. He was going to hear her scream in pleasure and writhe for more, and he wasn’t going to hold back. He was going to unload within her and make her his forever. He didn’t give a fuck about the consequences, either.
He relished in the sweet taste of her. She was delicious to him. He sucked her bottom lip, lapped his tongue against hers, surrendering to the unbelievable taste of… salt?
What the fuck?
Breathing heavily, he pulled back and looked down at her face.
Tears. Everywhere. Flowing down her face from each eye like two little waterfalls. Why the fuck was she crying?
“Hey,” he whispered soothingly, stroking the tears away from her eyes.
He remained on top of her, but he certainly wasn’t moving, and although he was hard as a boulder below the belt, there was no way he was going to be inside a crying angel. He wasn’t that drunk.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized in embarrassment, lips quivering.
“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry. You got nothin’ to be sorry for, Birdy.” He continued to wipe the tears from her eyes, and then he stiffly climbed off of her. This was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done. His whole body had shuddered with the need to be fulfilled by her.
This sucked giant elephant ball sacks.
She curled into a ball against his side, and for a moment he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. He didn’t think he’d have the self-control to stop. Any second and he’d be all over her again.
“You’re all I have. Please don’t hate me.” The sob-filled words took him off guard. Hate her? Fuck, what an absurd thing to say.
He wrapped an arm around her and held her hard against him. “I don’t hate you,” he told her firmly. “The last thing I could do is hate you. You’re fuckin’ incredible.”
“I don’t see how I am. I don’t even know why I did that.”
“No one sees the good in themselves first, Birdy. We see the shit we loathe. Take it from me, I know what makes someone bad and worth hating, and you’re far from it.”
“I’ve done bad things in my life. Things you don’t know about.”
“You ever killed someone with your bare hands?”
“No.”
“Then whatever you did, it isn’t so bad.”
He listened to her breathe for a few minutes. He was still hard as a rock, but the need to jump her had long eased. He was comfortable with her like this. He felt whole, and life seemed to matter a hell of a lot more all of a sudden.
“Did you ever find out anything about that man?”
“Not yet.” Yet another lie. He wanted to be honest, but truth be told, the more in the dark she was about it, the better.
Remy reflected on the day he’d taken the guys to the bunker. The place was a fucking write off. There was no way he could clean that blood up without burning the whole place down. Logan had whistled in amazement and Fritz had nearly doubled over from the stench of the dead man – although, in Remy’s eyes, Fritz didn’t smell any better.
“What do you wanna do, Reap?” asked Logan.
“We’re gonna strip him,” Remy answered, quickly packing away Sara’s clothes in a bag to take back to her.
Logan and Fritz exchanged looks of disgust, but they didn’t complain. They’d done much worse as far as they were concerned.
“I’m gonna need a lot more booze for this shit,” Fritz muttered. “You nearly took his head straight off.”
But Remy would have gotten to me regardless, and he would have found a way to keep me. But I supposed if I’d just gone to the apartment, Jaxon might have fought harder to get me back.
Oh, such karma! I abandoned him, and now the tables had turned. It fucking hurt.
In a way I was glad for him. He needed to live his life, not get deterred by a woman who betrayed him twice now. Had trusting Remy with the truth been so wrong of me at the time?
Trust is a fickle thing. I just witnessed a bond down the fucking stairs between brothers that looked like it ran far deeper than the core of the fucking earth. Yet someone had slipped this note into my pocket. Someone had done what Jaxon had asked.
Was someone here working for him? Did it even matter anymore?
He’s your soul mate, and you just told him to move on.
Some pains are worth enduring, remember?
*****
I languidly trailed my fingers up and down his torso as I sat over top of him. He gripped my hips and rocked me back and forth. I shut my eyes, focusing on the feel of him as my breathing picked up.
“That’s it,” he whispered huskily. “Come for me, Sara.”
And I did. And it was fucking amazing.
He buckled under me, gripping me even tighter as he came, groaning aloud into the air. I collapsed into his chest, resting the side of my face against his sweaty hard skin.
“Never gets old,” he quietly said, stroking my hair as he caught his breath.
He was still inside of me even minutes after. I didn’t want to separate from him. Things had been rocky lately, and it was nothing to do with him, of course. I wanted to savour this short moment of happiness.
“I have something for you,” he said sometime after.
By then I was falling asleep in his arms. “Hmm?”
He lifted me up and pulled out of me. Then he rested me on the bed and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me with a small smile on his face.
“I have something for you,” he repeated.
I watched him for a moment in thought. “What do you have?”
His small smile widened. “You have to promise not to be upset with me.”
“What have you done, Jaxon?”
He traced his finger along my jaw line with a smug, mischievous look on his face. “Promise me, Tiny.”
Now I was curious. “I promise I won’t be upset.”
He shuffled over to the night stand and opened the drawer. I heard him shuffle things around before he closed it back up and turned to me. In his hand was a small pristinely wrapped gift.
“Happy belated birthday, Sara,” he said.
My jaw dropped. “I told you no gifts!”
He chuckled. “I know and I didn’t. I honoured that, but then… I saw this and I thought of you.”
“Sneaky. Very sneaky.” I couldn’t help my smile.
“Take it.”
As I took it he turned on the lamp beside the bed. I sat up and eyed him with mock disapproval when really I was exploding with glee on the inside. He was still propped on his elbow, lying on his side, looking up at me now with excited eyes.
“Go on,” he ushered me. “Open it.”
“But look how beautifully it’s wrapped,” I replied. “It would be a shame to ruin this work of art.”
“Shut up and tear the wrapping paper, Tiny.”
I tore the wrapping paper off. After admiring the black, squared jewellery box in my hands, I slowly opened it. I broke into an even wider smile at my first ever piece of high-end jewellery. It was a silver heart chain bracelet and it looked amazing.
“Read the heart,” he whispered beside me.
I took the dangling heart into my hands. Diamonds bordered it and glistened under the light as I flipped it. Engraved words on the back read: You’re my ultimate.
“Wow, it’s beautiful, Jaxon.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
He took my wrist and put the bracelet on; all the while I watched him, carefully hiding my melancholy. I’d been treating him badly lately. My anger had taken him off guard, and he seemed to relish my short moments of normalcy.
“Beautiful bracelet for a beautiful woman,” he admired, bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I told him quietly. After being a shit girlfriend, the last thing I deserved was a beautiful bracelet like this.
“They say you can judge how well a woman is taken care of by her jewellery,” he replied, eyeing me with his tender blue eyes. “I want you to be taken care of. I want this to be the first of many. I want to spoil you with every penny I get.”
I beamed brightly. “Then I’ll treasure this forever as my first ever piece of jewellery.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. I’d left behind the bracelet in my haste to leave and hadn’t realized it until long after.
It was another life’s regret of mine.
Eight
He didn’t stumble to his room. He walked assertively with a few minor missteps here and there…
Okay, he stumbled to his room. He was a little tipsy, but it’d been a long while since he’d had that much to drink. Remy had been so consumed in his conversation with Logan, he’d completely lost track of time. After batting away slender arms that belonged to a series of women he didn’t want, he went in search for Sara.
The first thought that entered his mind when he didn’t find her with Tessa and Dayna was: fuck, did she take off? He wouldn’t have been surprised. This was her first real freedom with him. Everyone was preoccupied by their own shit. Parties at the clubhouse were wild, and no one would have stopped her from leaving the premises. They wouldn’t have even noticed!
Fuck, she left. Of course she fucking left. She’d spent nights in the same bed as him and hadn’t made a fucking move. He’d held her captive and tried his hardest to make her need him. Maybe she’d realized his cruel intentions and taken off. Had she gone back to him? God, he’d kill him if she did.
But the second he opened his bedroom door, he saw her figure in his bed. He let out a relieved breath as he shut the door behind him. She was sleeping peacefully on her side with her hands cupped together beneath her chin. Remy threw his leather vest off and then his boots, watching her intensely even though she’d made zero movement.
He climbed into bed behind her. Normal patient Remy was now a tipsy, irrepressible ball of feelings. She hadn’t left. She’d stayed right here. Maybe she did want this. Maybe she could be trusted after all.
He couldn’t help himself. His self-control had weaned significantly after all that alcohol. He lightly stroked her bare arm, feeling her silky soft skin beneath his fingertips. It was electrifying that a simple touch of her skin had given him bolts of pleasure. Imagine more. He rested on his side just behind her and continued to stroke her arm. His face neared the back of her head, taking in the scented raspberry shit she shampooed her hair with. It was to fucking die for.
Tipsy Remy nuzzled his nose until he felt the skin on the back of her neck. Then he trailed it up to her ear, closing his eyes tightly at the warmth she was radiating into his being. This girl.
This.
Fucking.
Girl. Her slight movement threw off his jive. Her head turned to him, and he could feel her breaths against his face. He opened his eyes and regarded his Birdy. To his surprise, she was wide awake and hardly an inch from his face. Her eyes looked right into his and then at his lips, emanating a vulnerability he couldn’t decipher fast enough. She’d purposely let her guard down for him. Was this her offering herself up to him? Was this permission?
He didn’t want to ask. He just wanted to take.
It seemed so natural moving in for the kiss. Tipsy, pussy-whipped Remy couldn’t help the groan that escaped his mouth the second his lips made contact with hers. They were so soft. So full. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was falling apart within seconds. He brought a hand to her face, keeping her at level with his mouth so he could continue to taste the finest thing he’d ever touched.
She kissed back, opening her mouth wider to let him in. The second his tongue brushed against hers, he was gone. Absolutely fucking gone.
So this is perfection.
Suddenly Remy understood all that bullshit about love. Who would have guessed that those horrendous romance movies were right? You’d endure the worst kind of evil just to have a taste of this. He felt his heart explode into a million little pieces, and he didn’t give a shit that he was falling hard. In that moment, he was engulfed in a kind of bliss that was pure, uninhibited heaven. The angel beneath him was worth it all. He’d always known it, and now it was solidified.
She wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him further into her mouth. He didn’t want to stop, even when he needed to come up for air; he was happily drowning in her. He felt her other hand slide down his back and then she was pulling up his shirt.
Fuck. Yes.
He threw it off and grabbed at hers. He gently lifted it over her head, and by then she’d wrapped her legs around his hips. He was rock hard and the sudden friction she was trying to create against her pussy had just about made him come.
Fuck no.
He wouldn’t. He’d never been so undone so shortly into foreplay before. What was she doing to him?
Remy rested over her again, feeling her bare skin against his. He moved his hand up and down her body, stopping repeatedly at her breasts. He wanted nothing more than to tear the bra straight off and lap his tongue against her nipples, but he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. There was something about her kiss; it felt like he was pouring his soul into her and she was sucking him dry and owning him – which was fucked up because he’d always intended to be the possessor. But shit, who cares? He’d gladly be the bitch if she was the master.
Sara pushed his face away from her and harshly brought his mouth to her neck. She was gladly offering it, but for what? Did she want to be marked? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He licked her neck and then sucked fiercely, relishing in the softness of her skin. She moaned loudly and gripped his hair until his scalp burned.
Perfection. He moved back to her mouth, grinding himself against her. Yes, yes, yes. He was going to own this body. He was going to be deep inside that in a few moments time. He was going to hear her scream in pleasure and writhe for more, and he wasn’t going to hold back. He was going to unload within her and make her his forever. He didn’t give a fuck about the consequences, either.
He relished in the sweet taste of her. She was delicious to him. He sucked her bottom lip, lapped his tongue against hers, surrendering to the unbelievable taste of… salt?
What the fuck?
Breathing heavily, he pulled back and looked down at her face.
Tears. Everywhere. Flowing down her face from each eye like two little waterfalls. Why the fuck was she crying?
“Hey,” he whispered soothingly, stroking the tears away from her eyes.
He remained on top of her, but he certainly wasn’t moving, and although he was hard as a boulder below the belt, there was no way he was going to be inside a crying angel. He wasn’t that drunk.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized in embarrassment, lips quivering.
“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry. You got nothin’ to be sorry for, Birdy.” He continued to wipe the tears from her eyes, and then he stiffly climbed off of her. This was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done. His whole body had shuddered with the need to be fulfilled by her.
This sucked giant elephant ball sacks.
She curled into a ball against his side, and for a moment he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. He didn’t think he’d have the self-control to stop. Any second and he’d be all over her again.
“You’re all I have. Please don’t hate me.” The sob-filled words took him off guard. Hate her? Fuck, what an absurd thing to say.
He wrapped an arm around her and held her hard against him. “I don’t hate you,” he told her firmly. “The last thing I could do is hate you. You’re fuckin’ incredible.”
“I don’t see how I am. I don’t even know why I did that.”
“No one sees the good in themselves first, Birdy. We see the shit we loathe. Take it from me, I know what makes someone bad and worth hating, and you’re far from it.”
“I’ve done bad things in my life. Things you don’t know about.”
“You ever killed someone with your bare hands?”
“No.”
“Then whatever you did, it isn’t so bad.”
He listened to her breathe for a few minutes. He was still hard as a rock, but the need to jump her had long eased. He was comfortable with her like this. He felt whole, and life seemed to matter a hell of a lot more all of a sudden.
“Did you ever find out anything about that man?”
“Not yet.” Yet another lie. He wanted to be honest, but truth be told, the more in the dark she was about it, the better.
Remy reflected on the day he’d taken the guys to the bunker. The place was a fucking write off. There was no way he could clean that blood up without burning the whole place down. Logan had whistled in amazement and Fritz had nearly doubled over from the stench of the dead man – although, in Remy’s eyes, Fritz didn’t smell any better.
“What do you wanna do, Reap?” asked Logan.
“We’re gonna strip him,” Remy answered, quickly packing away Sara’s clothes in a bag to take back to her.
Logan and Fritz exchanged looks of disgust, but they didn’t complain. They’d done much worse as far as they were concerned.
“I’m gonna need a lot more booze for this shit,” Fritz muttered. “You nearly took his head straight off.”
