Scandal: The Complete Series

by Alison Foster

  I reach out to take his hand, gently pulling him closer. He turns to his side, giving me a labored smile. I’m suddenly overtaken by a desire to be naked with him, skin on skin, warmth on warmth, until I can convince myself he’s really here with me.

  We kiss briefly and then I reach for the buttons on his dress shirt. He grabs both my hands, stopping me from going any further.

  “Jax, you’re scaring me,” I say. “You’re so distant.” My breath catches in my throat. “I need you.”

  My words are a little cliché but they’re also my absolute truth.

  “I need a drink before I explain,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

  He starts getting up which makes me panic a little. I get a hand on the hem of his shirt, uncovering his lower back. I only get a momentary glimpse before he pulls away from me but it’s enough to put me in full panic mode.

  “What happened to you?” I say, springing off the bed, palms firmly planted against the fabric on his back.

  “It will heal,” he says, avoiding my eyes.

  I start unbuttoning the front of his shirt and this time he stays put, letting me do as I please. I go slowly, afraid of what I will discover—first one button, then the next and the next. I open the shirt on the front, resting my hands on his naked chest. Then I pull the shirt down his shoulders a little to trace the tattoo of my name before I place two kisses on his pecs.

  He reacts to my touch with a soft moan as if a big load of energy was just released inside him. I pull the shirt down his arms until it’s completely off him.

  Jaxson wraps those arms around me and finds my lips with his. His tongue is hot and sweet as it swirls with mine, promising me pleasure, companionship and endless love.

  I pull back, my eyes locked onto his. I circle him to find the truth he’s trying to hide from me. His strapping body shivers as my eyes rest on his skin. I bring my hand to my mouth, unable to suppress a cry of terror.

  His back has been used as a canvas for torture. Long, ugly welts cover him from side to side and top to bottom. The skin is broken in several spots, the caked blood indicating some time has passed since he was beaten. Redness and bruising blend in together around his ribs and over his childhood scar. For someone who plans to make a living using words, I seem to be at a complete loss for them right now.

  “Who did this?” I say with a hoarse voice. It’s beyond me how he’s been able to keep a straight face for so long. This must hurt like hell. “Bronson?”

  He shakes his head. “Sit down, Ella.”

  My whole body is trembling, so sitting down is probably a good idea.

  “It was my uncle,” he says. “This was his idea of teaching me a lesson. He locked me away. He had me beaten and flogged. He stole my phone. He said he texted you.”

  Oh my God. Lucius fabricated the story of the meeting to get me out of the way? Does he want me dead now, too? I bite my lip because I really don’t want to cause Jax any more grief. I just nod, so he knows I got the text. “And Elaine Parker,” I say. “She was in on it, too.”

  “She was, but it ate away at her conscience. Ella, she’s the one who set me free. She said talking to you reminded her of what it’s like to lose the one you love. When my uncle finds out what she did, he could kill her.”

  Maybe Lucius loves her a little like she loves him. Maybe that will save her. I really don’t know how to feel about any of this. A dark, menacing cloud hangs above us and we have nowhere to hide.

  I finally ask the question that needs to be asked. “Do you trust Wolf?”

  “He’s a crazy motherfucker but he doesn’t have the finesse of an accomplished liar. And there’s a semblance of a conscience floating around inside him somewhere. Madison cared for him a great deal. I think he’s telling the truth.”

  “He saved my life today,” I say as it’s finally dawning on me.

  “And for that I will be forever grateful.”

  We kiss again, sitting on the edge of the bed. I don’t ever want to let go. I’m going to keep him glued to me for all the years to come or days or hours or minutes. No matter what happens, I want to be with him until the end.

  My hand reaches inside his jeans, taking him by surprise. I pull away from the kiss and drop to my knees. He doesn’t react at all until I pull his zipper down, looking up at him.

  “Are you going to suck my cock?” he says like it’s a shock to him.

  I laugh a little, putting my hands inside the waistband of his jeans to pull them down. “That’s the idea.”

  He rolls his hips to help get rid of his pants and boxer briefs. His cock springs out at me half-limp. I grab his shaft in my hand, opening my mouth a little to kiss the tip.

  “Oh fuck,” he says as he begins to harden immediately.

  I lick up and down his length, feeling how he swells under my tongue. It’s all I want to do, make him happy, taste him, own him.

  “Fuck, Ella, take me in your mouth,” he says with a moan. “Suck my cock, honey. I need my girl to suck on me.”

  I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around him, and he’s getting so big, I have to use both hands at the base, moving them up and down in unison with my mouth.

  I find my rhythm and start humming around his cock, my tongue teasing him underneath the head.

  “God, you know how to suck my cock,” he groans. “You know what I like, what drives me crazy.”

  His hand rests on my head, pulling on my hair. “Look at me,” he says.

  I dart my eyes upward to look into his, swallowing his cock deeper as he thrusts his hips forward. “Oh, fuck, you’re so beautiful, suck it harder. Milk my fucking cock.”

  His exhilaration becomes mine. I can’t stop tasting him. He’s mine. I take him in as deep as I can, sucking and licking, as I feel the muscles in his thighs tense.

  “Such a sweet mouth,” he says, panting.

  I moan and hum again, sending vibrations up and down his shaft, until I feel him bow over me, pulling my hair tighter in a fist. “Fuck, Ella Wade, I’m going to come.”

  I gaze up at him again to witness his undoing.

  “I’m coming,” he grunts loudly as the first hot stream of cum hits my tongue. It’s hot and salty and a little sweet. I take every last drop in my mouth and swallow it all while he moans.

  He trembles with aftershocks for a while inside my mouth. He falls back on the bed as I release him, quickly turning onto his stomach to protect his back. His ribcage rises and falls fast, his fingers interlaced on the back of his head.

  For a moment, I’m worried that I have hurt him and that I’ve made him overexert himself, but then he chuckles. “Come here,” he says. “Where did you learn to suck cock like that?”

  “It’s a natural gift,” I say, lying on my stomach beside him.

  “Oh fuck, that felt so good.”

  My fingers find his back, barely touching his bruised flesh. “We should take care of this,” I say. “Some ice and some antibiotic lotion and then some bandaging.”

  “It sounds good.”

  “I’ll kill Lucius with my bare hands,” I say.

  “No, you won’t, but I love your ferociousness.”

  The last thing I want is to get off the bed. Jaxson is my whole world right now and I want to hold on to that feeling of belonging. But he’s injured and he needs to be cared for. So I kiss him on the cheek and go to the kitchen to fetch some ice and then the bathroom for some first-aid supplies.

  He’s still on his stomach when I return to bed, hands under his chin. I pamper his poor back with some soft caresses before I clean the skin with warm water and apply an antibiotic, pain-relieving cream.

  Jax sighs a few times but they are good sighs, the kind that comes at the end of a long day when you can relax with a good movie or some good company.

  I run my hands across his biceps and then his firm butt cheeks and his smooth thighs. He shudders a little at my touch, tightening muscles and then releasing them.

  “Does this hurt?” I ask, s
troking his shoulder.

  “No, not really,” he says.

  “What about here?” I say, slapping his ass a little.

  He shakes his head and I go on, touching every part of him that hasn’t been brutalized and he says that nothing hurts. Then I reach under him to stroke his trapped cock and find him half-hard.

  “Is this sore?” I say.

  “You kissed it already.”

  “I know but I want it.”

  He turns to his side and grabs my wrists, pinning me down and then rolling on top of me. “What do you want exactly?”

  “Fuck me,” I say. “Fuck the sadness out of me. Fuck it all away.”

  His hand travels under my shirt, finding my nipples bunched up and perky.

  “I know I’m being selfish,” I whisper. “Don’t think that I don’t.”

  He yanks the shirt off me and my body gets thrilled instantly in all the right places.

  “Selfish little slut,” he says.

  “Your slut,” I correct him.

  “And don’t you forget it,” he says, laughing.

  It’s good to hear him laugh. Even better that he gets a hand inside my jeans, finding my mound. My clit aches, anticipating his touch.

  “There’s only one muscle in my body that doesn’t hurt me when I use it,” he says.

  “Which one would that be?” I say, rolling my hips to give him a clue that I’m game for anything.

  “My tongue,” he says, wetting my bellybutton with a long lick.

  “That might work,” I say, panting already.

  Jax slides down my body and off the bed, pulling me by the knees until my hips are on the edge of the bed. He leans over me to kiss me. I open my lips to taste his tongue and he deepens the kiss, supporting himself on one hand, the other hand roaming my body.

  I wrap my arms around his back and he squirms a little as I squeeze. “I’m sorry,” I say, mortified I’ve caused him pain. “I got carried away.”

  “I have a solution for this,” he says, walking to the closet.

  I prop myself on my elbows trying to figure out what he’s doing. He comes back holding one of my long winter scarves.

  “Lie back,” he says. He immediately grabs one of my wrists, looping the scarf around it with a knot before he holds it over my head. Then he pulls the other wrist and repeats the pattern, binding my hands together.

  Oh lord, I’ve never been tied before. Excitement mingles with a feeling of panic. I get pins and needles deep within my core and I begin to breathe more heavily.

  Jax’s body looms over me. The golden skin and the heavy muscles on his chest, arms and abdomen are a work of art. His perfection sends shivers down my spine. He gives me a hungry look and then quickly strips me of my pants and underwear, kneeling down.

  He grabs my hips and pulls my body to his face, opening my thighs wide. He strokes me down there, sliding a finger over my clit and then pushing a fingertip inside me. I gasp. It’s loud and needy and I don’t give a fuck. All I want to do is feel.

  His hands reach up to cup my breasts, bringing them together. I instinctively try to reach out and run my fingers through his hair but realize I can’t. My wrists are tied flat against each other above my head. I’m at his mercy.

  My nipples grow hard, waiting for his hands to pamper them. His fingers find both nipples at the same time, gently pinching and twisting until pleasure shoots across them and down to my clit.

  “Jax, please.” I should be more specific, but for once I find it quite impossible to go into detail about what I need. Because I need everything and anything from him and because I trust him.

  He kisses down my stomach all the way to my pussy. When his tongue barely touches me, I see stars. I arch my back, overwhelmed by the sensations. My hands twist in the bounding scarf a few times and my helplessness arouses me more. I close my eyes as he hums against my swollen flesh.

  His tongue slips inside me and he licks me in there, so warm and so sensual. I’m nothing, he turns me into nothing but a toy he can play with any way he wishes.

  I feel his fingers opening me up as his whole mouth is pressed against me. I cry out. Again and again, every time his tongue flicks around my opening, I feel like I’m going to die with pleasure.

  My pussy clenches, wanting more of him, and I can’t stop the sounds coming out of me.

  His tongue slides in and around my pussy, missing my clit by a tiny fraction of a millimeter every time and my cries get louder with every flick.

  I’m panting and writhing in my binds, at the brink of begging shamelessly, when he finally licks upward and catches my clit in his mouth, circling it roughly with his tongue.

  I’m not just crying out now, it’s full-blown moaning as the ecstasy surges through me, my body clamping down hard with every lick and circle of his tongue, the orgasm going on and on forever, seemingly endless as he refuses to stop licking me.

  My clit gets so sensitive and tingly I want to push him off but I don’t know how. He finally takes pity of me and slowly moves his mouth to my inner thighs, but I really can’t have any more coherent thoughts. All my energy is drawn out of my body, so when he moves over me, untying my wrists, I curl my body into his and fall steadily asleep.

  —fourteen—

  Jaxson

  It’s fucking dark in the basement storage room where Wolf wants me to wait for hours until David Bronson arrives. The thing is he had to get me in the club through unconventional routes or risk being seen with me which would be reported straight to Bronson. The old man’s out for blood and my name is a red flag.

  So I wait, occasionally looking at my phone, going through the plan in my head for the hundredth time. Ella bandaged me up again before I left and made me take some pain-relieving pills. The whole time she was working on me, I worried she might actually suggest she wanted to come along but thankfully she didn’t. I have no wish to argue with her. Her sanity hangs from the proverbial thread at best. Her staying with two of Wolf’s most trusted associates was the best option for everyone involved.

  I instinctively reach for my gun at the sound of footsteps outside the storage room. Three knocks on the door, the signal Wolf and I have agreed upon, and I relax a little.

  The first one to go through the door is Brad. What the fuck is he doing here? Nate follows and then another dude I’ve never seen before and, finally, Wolf with a flashlight in his hand.

  “What the fuck are you all doing here?” I ask Brad.

  “You didn’t think I’d let your sorry ass get all the fun, did you?” Brad says, banging fists with me.

  Wolf nods. Wolf told Brad? That’s just messed up how we all have turned into such pals all of a sudden.

  “Did Brad drag you along?” I ask Nate, a little more emotional than I want to admit. It must be the fucking drugs.

  “Nah, I’m an adrenaline junkie,” Nate says. “This is Tomas, wanted dead by rich husbands everywhere. Not bad to have in a fight.”

  I shake hands with Tomas. “No shortage of fools,” I say with a grin.

  “Will there be cocktails on this adventure?” Tomas says. He looks cool and laidback but if he’s friends with Nate, he’s probably half-insane.

  We wait for a while before Wolf receives a text. “All right,” he says. “Showtime.”

  We follow Wolf down musty hallways, turning endless corners until we get to a locked room. Wolf produces a key he’s not supposed to have. Inside, we find a trapdoor on the floor.

  “There will be three guards outside Bronson’s room,” Wolf says in a whisper. “We assume at least another three inside. No gunshots unless absolutely necessary. This has to stay nice and quiet.”

  I nod, blood rushing to my head. Wolf signals to Brad who opens the trapdoor and then Wolf jumps down immediately.

  “Motherfucker just took out a guard by landing on him,” Brad says, eyes wide from shock.

  Tomas pushes him out of the way to jump in. It’s a good twenty feet down. My back seriously protests when I land on my feet
, the impact affecting every bone and muscled fiber in my body.

  There’s no time to complain. I duck out of the way of a rifle, hurling my weight at the waist of the guard who’s holding it. Nate hits the guard hard on the back of his head with a gun he’s just wrestled from a third guard who was just knocked out cold by a single right hook by that Tomas dude.

  Three up. Three down.

  At that very instant, the door to the room Bronson is supposed to be in is shaken violently from the inside. Wolf grins wickedly, holding up the key he used to lock them in. Wolf’s a calculated bastard who leaves nothing to chance and enjoys the mayhem he causes. He’s done his homework. I never want to be on his bad side.

  By the time it has dawned on Bronson’s men that the door is locked, the four of us have positioned ourselves on both sides of the door, waiting for them to unlock it with Bronson’s key.

  It’s like stealing candy from children. Wolf head-butts the first one to charge out. Wolf grabs the guy’s gun as he collapses out cold. Nate, Tomas and Brad attack the other two guards, leaving the coast clear for me.

  I walk straight into the room where David Bronson is waiting surrounded by a horde of naked women. Some of them are in chains, some tied down with their legs spread, but all of them have one thing in common: they’re frightened.

  He has a weak face and an infirm hand, the kind of man that has been feared because of his father his whole life but never grew balls of his own.

  He raises the trembling hand holding the gun. I chuckle as I let him think for a second that he has the upper hand and then I draw my gun from its holster so fast he’s in complete denial about what has happened. “Don’t even think about it,” I hiss at him. “I’d like nothing more than to blow your head off.”

  Nobody fucking threatens my girl and gets away with it.

  *

  Wolf pushes David Bronson inside the cabin in the woods he has leased just for the occasion. Trust me, you don’t want to be in a cabin in the woods with a man named Wolf.

  He sits opposite Bronson’s son, who’s gagged and hogtied with hands and feet together now. Wolf strokes the tip of a big, hunting knife. Bronson is so terrified, I almost feel sorry for him. Not really. The bastard has hurt way too many people already—has taken too many innocent lives. Including my good friend, the beautiful, fiercely independent Madison Starr. He might not have been the one to kill her but he was the one behind her murder.