by Nashoda Rose
I caught a glimpse of his tight ass before he disappeared from view. Not because he closed the door, no, he left it wide open, but because he stepped behind the gaudy shower curtain.
I fell back onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. I was turned on. Hot, wet and throbbing. I was turned on by a guy’s legs and ass. But Jasper didn’t have just any ass; it was rock hard and round and curved perfectly into his sculpted thighs. This was mortifying. I was wearing his boxers, wet and feeling emotions I never knew I had. And the worst part was he knew it.
I’d never been concerned what others thought about my scars, but suddenly I was. Now it mattered. Now I wanted to keep myself covered from him and I hated feeling insecure about myself, but Jasper looking at my marred skin . . . it raised my awareness of what I looked like.
I heard the crinkle of paper and suspected he’d found the cheap soaps I’d thrown in the trash along with the one I used.
“Fuck, that’s cold,” Jasper shouted.
I bit my lower lip and smiled. I didn’t realize how good it felt to smile, how much I missed it until I did it. It was like I was lighter, warmer and the dredge of blackness faded for a single second.
Then I locked it away again. Because with one emotion came others. Others that would break me wide open.
I got up, yanked the comforter off the bed then threw a pillow on the floor beside it. I tugged back the white sheets, crawled underneath and curled on my side, my hands beneath the pillow. The sound of the shower mixed with the steady drone of a newscaster’s voice on the television lulled me to sleep within seconds.
I TOWELED OFF MY HAIR while standing naked beside the bed watching Max, curled up fast asleep. A strand of hair fell across her nose and when she exhaled, the fine hairs lifted then fell back. I reached forward to push them aside then stopped myself.
What the fuck was I doing? Jesus. I had no business touching her like that. No business liking this chick and yet . . . I did. At first, I thought it was lust and it was; I wanted to fuck her, still did, but after watching her . . . seeing how she held back the smile as she ran her fingertips through the wildflowers every morning. How she blew on her coffee every single time before that first sip. The way her brows drew together when she was practicing with her blades. It was the only time I saw that hidden determination in her. She hid it from Xamien with the way she bowed her head and quietly spoke to him, but there was always tension in her shoulders. And once when he walked away from her, I saw the flicker of sadness in her eyes as she stared after him. And that I didn’t like. I knew there was nothing going on between them, but I still didn’t like the fact she felt something for the powerful and noble-as-hell Taldeburu.
What I loved was fucking with her, seeing her hackles rise and the heat in her cheeks. It was the only way I could get a reaction from her and I craved it. Needed it. And fuck if I didn’t want to kiss every inch of her until she purred in my arms.
But I don’t soothe.
I fuck.
Fucking wasn’t emotional. It was a basic need. But for some screwed-up reason, the idea of fucking her was all-consuming.
I stepped back from the bed and my foot landed on the comforter. My eyes hit the pillow next to it. Like hell I was sleeping on the fuckin’ floor. This chick really had a few lessons to learn in how this all was going down.
But Max had boundary issues. I didn’t do well with that. I liked to peel the layers back, make them bleed then if I needed to I could use what I had to against them to get what I wanted.
I was good at breaking boundaries, rules and whatever else. Living my way of life there was no time for personal bullshit. Mine was locked down so tight, not even a Scar Reflector could reach my secrets.
The way Max subtly flinched when I touched her—boundary issue.
Wanting her own room—boundary issue.
Comforter and pillow on the floor—boundary issue.
Fuck that.
I broke that boundary with the kiss. She’d been stiff under my lips at first and I guessed she’d had fuck-all experience or if she did, it was with some piss poor kisser who couldn’t take what he wanted. I made no mistake about showing a woman what it was like to be taken. Shit¸ they wanted that and if they didn’t, then they weren’t a chick I cared to sink my cock into.
I’d purposely undressed before going into the bathroom. If she’d seen my smirk or my hard-on from thinking about her watching me—because I sure as hell knew she was from the sound of her racing heartbeat—she’d have run for the door. I almost wished she had because then I’d have had to catch her. My cock stirred at the thought of holding her struggling body up against me.
I had no doubt she’d fight me the first time. It would be a battle of wills, but she’d be wet as hell and throbbing for me. I’d feel the leashed desire pulsing through her veins, needing to be set free. And I was going to be the one to unsnap it while I drove inside her.
I ran my hand through my damp hair, and then kicked the pillow. Fuck. I needed to get laid. I hadn’t been with a chick for months.
Months. Yeah, fuckin’ six months.
I was always clear to any chick I sunk my cock into—take and leave. My motto. I’d give her the best sex she’d ever had then leave. I didn’t see it as selfish, the opposite in fact. I gave her the best pleasure she’d ever had then left before she ever got to know me—I was doing her a favor by leaving. Sometimes, I came back for seconds, months later, but staying too long in one woman’s bed led to attachments. Attachments led to caring and caring had no business in my life. It would get me killed and anyone else close to me.
I’d chosen this life and nothing could get in the way. Not even my little obsession. I’d have to end it soon and the only way was to sink between her thighs. Once I had her, all this bullshit I was feeling would go away. It was the chase. It was not being able to have something and wanting it more.
I snagged the pillow off the floor and tossed it on the bed, and then went and pulled the curtains closed. I strode back to the bed and glanced at Max again—A fuckin’ angel with an attitude.
An angel stuck in Hell. Sunshine blocked by dense clouds. Yeah, those marks on her body had one hell of a story. Normally, I’d shrug it off, not my business, but I wanted to make it my business. I wanted to kill the bastard who did that to her. No, I wanted to do more than kill him. I wanted to crucify him, make him suffer, make him beg for mercy, for his life while I laughed. Only then would I kill him.
Torture. Fuck. I didn’t do torture, but suddenly I wanted to see another person suffer before they died.
I slipped under the sheets and lay on my back, elbows bent and hands beneath my head. I tried to block out the sounds of her heartbeat, her breathing, but I’d listened to them from a distance for months and now they were so close, it was as if they were inside me.
And if I had to kill her, I couldn’t deny the fact that the pieces of her that had settled deep inside me would detonate.
I ROLLED OVER, HUGGING THE pillow in a rare moment of bliss after having slept through the night without any nightmares. I sighed, feeling refreshed as I stretched my legs out and hit warm, hard—
My eyes flew open and I came face to face with a naked smooth torso with black ink lines running the length of his side. The sheet covered his legs then stopped in a crumpled chaos at his hips. My gaze trailed down the path of hairs to . . . I bolted up right, yanking the sheet with me.
“Morning, sunshine.” He was sitting up in bed leaning against the headboard, eyes glued to his phone as his fingers tapped on the screen.
“You’re in bed.” Jasper had ignored the hint of blanket and pillow on the floor and slept in bed with me. I should’ve known he would. His leg rubbed against mine and abruptly, I pulled mine away.
“You’re certainly observant first thing in the morning.”
“And your asshole button doesn’t have an off switch.”
He chuckled. “About time you woke-up. Been awake for hours listening to you snore like an elephant with its trunk
kinked.”
I gasped. “Elephant . . . kinked . . . you’re such an asshole.”
“Hmm, you also lack variety in your vocabulary.” His mouth twitched and I wanted to smack him. I didn’t because I had no intention of putting my hands anywhere near him. He was naked or partially naked. I was in his t-shirt and boxers and I couldn’t decipher if the fast pumping rush through my veins was from anger or from the thought of him being naked in bed with me.
I’d coasted through the last four years without having to say much and suddenly in the last twenty-four hours, I was talking back, arguing and even smiling. “What are you doing?”
“Playing angry birds. Addicting. Red bird is the shit—”
I exploded. Not like me. So not like me, but I was furious. I hadn’t felt emotions like this since . . . my first few months in captivity. “What the hell are you doing in bed with me?”
He continued to play on his phone without even reacting to my outburst. His brows lowered in concentration and his lips pressed together as he slid his finger across the screen.
“Are you listening to me?” Jasper’s nonchalance was making me react irrationally and I had a feeling that was exactly what he wanted. And this was why I preferred to be silent rather than talk because people rarely listened to anything but themselves. “God, so typical.”
“Oh, I’m anything but typical. And I heard you, just chose to ignore you. My right. It’s your right to get out of my bed.”
“Your bed?”
Jasper’s brows rose and there was no sign of his playful grin. “Yeah, sunshine, my bed. I clearly remember shoving a handful of bills in your hand to pay for this room. And I paid for the room next door, which by the way still pisses me off. I don’t like to waste money.”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been wasted if you let me sleep there.”
“It wouldn’t have been wasted if you’d listened to me in the first place.”
He lowered his hand from his phone then slowly stroked his abdomen, fingers moving over the blocks of muscles. I watched, breathless, unable to look away from his smooth, hard body. Then his hand slid lower, down the trail of hairs . . . the sheet lifted and his hand disappeared. I swallowed. The sheet tented . . . I wasn’t sure if it was his hand or . . . I jerked my eyes away, but my gaze didn’t go far; instead, I was staring at his chest, admiring the hard mounds and valleys.
“Done with your perusal?”
My already heated cheeks burned. “Surprising you even know a word like that.”
“Oh, baby, you’d be surprised about a lot of things I know. Care to find out?”
I scrambled out of bed taking the sheet with me. Big mistake. Well, it wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t looked, but I did and he only had boxer briefs on and his cock was obviously rock hard—and huge. My eyes flew to his and there was no smile, no cocky smirk . . . he was smoldering with desire.
“Oh, God.” I spun, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. I heard Jasper’s deep chuckle following me.
Damn it. I felt like a nuclear weapon traveling on a road ridden with potholes. Unsteady and ready to explode at any minute. Everything he did was testing my control. Shit, he wasn’t testing it; he was splitting it apart.
I put my hands on the lip of the sink, closed my eyes and tried to will the eruption of emotions away, but the image of Jasper, lying in bed half naked, casual, confident, making no apology for his erection, wouldn’t vanish.
He desired me. He was turned on and we hadn’t even touched. It made me feel . . . wanted. Desired. God, why did I want him to want me? He was arrogant. Selfish. An assassin who was hired to protect me from someone . . . a someone who had no reason to want a girl who lived for four years tucked away in Spain.
“Max. Let’s move.” Jasper knocked on the door. It was a no nonsense voice, stern as if telling his soldiers to move out.
I had to stop this . . . this . . . well, whatever it was. People used people to get what they wanted in life. I’d learned that really young and Jasper was certainly at the top of the list of using others, except he didn’t try to hide it. I knew he was being paid to protect me. I also knew he was playing with me and enjoying it.
I turned on the taps and washed my face with cold water, the burning in my cheeks slowly dissipating. It took a good five minutes before I pulled my shit together.
When I opened the door, Jasper was dressed and on his phone, standing with his back to me. Whoever was on the other end must have been doing all the talking because Jasper said a few short curt words then hung up. Without looking at me, he opened the door and left.
When I heard the bike start up, I noticed his bag and my blades were gone. I went outside and came up beside him. “I need clothes. I can’t wear this.” I gestured to the boxers and t-shirt.
“You look fine to me.” Jasper was sitting astride his bike, his hands resting on his thighs looking completely in control. Shit, he was in control.
I cocked my hip and put my hand on it and then I saw the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth. He was playing with me again.
“I want clothes and a phone call before I go anywhere with you.”
Jasper shut down the engine, pulled his cell out of his front shirt pocket and handed it to me. It was so casual, as if he’d expected me to ask. “Have at it, sunshine. And tell him his house is a write off.”
“How’d you—”
Jasper quirked a brow. “You have no friends. No boyfriends. You never travel, and spend your days looking after Xamien’s garden and practicing with those blades of yours. The garden thing is boring as hell, but guess it’s a Healer thing . . . making things grow and shit.”
“You know a lot about me having just met me.”
He clenched his jaw. “My job to know.” He chin-lifted to the phone. “Call him if it makes you feel better. Number three.”
I pressed number three and Xamien picked up on the second ring. “Jasper.”
“No, sir, it’s Max.”
“Max. How are you? Are you guys somewhere safe?”
I glanced at Jasper and he leaned his elbow up against the handle bar. I noticed his eyes remained focused and intense, even when he was being annoying and flirting with me.
“Your house . . . it’s ruined, sir. Jasper says the men who did it are after me and he’s been hired to protect me. Is that true?” Then I added, because Jasper was pissing me off by looking so cocky and full of himself, “Should I kill him?”
Jasper burst out laughing and the sound made me smile, but I turned slightly so he couldn’t see it.
Xamien chuckled and I heard him murmur something to someone in the background. “Do what he says and he’ll keep you safe. I trust him.”
“Xamien, what’s going on? Why would anyone want me?” I held my breath as there was silence at the other end of the line.
A cold wave of dread came over me and my breath locked tight in my chest. “Max . . . I know you’re a Healer.” I closed my eyes, hand tightening on the phone. “Healers are always in danger and I think that’s why you’ve kept it hidden.”
I looked at Jasper. He smirked. “Did Jasper tell you?”
“No,” Xamien replied. I don’t know why I cared, but I was relieved Jasper hadn’t lied to me. That he’d kept my secret. “I’ve known for years, but I’d never force you to use your ability if you chose not to, Max. I’ve never told anyone either. I’ll meet with you and Jasper tomorrow. By then, I may know more. For now, do as Jasper says. He’s the best at . . . what he does. Keep close to him.” He paused, then, “And Max . . . be careful. Let me talk to him.”
I said goodbye then held the phone out to Jasper.
“Stay with the bike, babe.” He lifted his leg over the seat then walked away, phone to his ear. I couldn’t hear what was said, but his grin had vanished and his spine stiffened, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter.
He strode back to me and put his phone back in his pocket. “Satisfied?”
“Not really.” But I could w
ait until I saw Xamien tomorrow.
“Don’t worry, Xamien’s warning to keep my hands off won’t deter me.”
I ignored his attempt to get me riled. “Do you have clothes for me or are you going to continue to be a dick?”
He grinned. “Nice to see we’ve moved up from asshole.”
I frowned. “Who says dick is any better than asshole?”
He raised his brows and looked down at the bulge between his legs. I rolled my eyes and he laughed, a sound which made my insides light up like I swallowed a flare. He nodded to the leather saddlebag. “Jeans and a shirt in the bag. And a sweet-ass pair of red panties.” My mouth dropped open. “You have one hell of a panty drawer.”
What? “What?” I dove for the bag and sifted through his clothes and there at the bottom, I caught the flash of red. I yanked my panties out then my jeans and t-shirt. By the time I stood up straight, my clothes in my hand, I was seething. “You had clothes for me?”
“Guess you’re not going to thank me for taking the time to grab a couple things for you.”
“When?”
“When what?”
I stomped my foot and that pissed me off because I didn’t stomp or get angry or become flustered and I was all of the above. “You know damn well what I’m asking.”
Jasper snagged me around the waist and brought me into him. I landed hard against his thigh, my hands going to his chest with my clothes the only thing separating us. “Babe, you and me . . . it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. Grabbed a few of your things when you were out in the garden a few days ago just in case shit went bad. Then shit went bad and I had to get you out of there.” He tugged me closer and his knee went between my legs. My breath locked in my throat. “Now, angel, you want to get changed or stand here talking about how I got your clothes because I need coffee.”
The fastest way to get him to release me was to agree with whatever he said. “Yes.”
His fingers curled into my waist. “Yes what, sunshine?”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I said, “Yes, sir.”
His brows lowered and his lips pursed together, just like I knew would happen. Then he shook his head and chuckled; the vibration sent my insides haywire. “Fuck, you’re cute when you try to piss me off.” He slapped my ass and I jerked away, staggering back a couple steps then darting for the motel room. I expected his laughter to follow, but it didn’t.
