The bathroom door opened and Ella stepped out, my heart hammered in my chest, my mouth was suddenly drier than the Sahara. She wore a pair of flannel bottoms hanging loosely around her small hips and a tight little singlet top, with quite obviously no bra underneath. Her hair was brushed smooth and hung still slightly damp over her shoulders, her bare feet whispered across the carpet as she sat down beside me. I breathed in the gentle mixture of the ocean and coconut that was distinctly my Ella.
“Here,” I somehow managed to say. I handed her two headache tablets and she took them without question. She still appeared to be in shock, her body operating in a monotone mechanical manner. I slipped her phone out of my back pocket and placed it on the bedside table. “I’ve turned it down, not off,” I explained bringing the plate of food back. She took it and began to eat without question, finally sighing, her body sagging with exhaustion.
“This is really good. We should ask Mary if she wouldn’t mind giving us some cooking lessons.” I smiled thinking of my failed lesson the night before.
“I ruined the spaghetti sauce last night at the shelter. I don’t know if Mary will let me back in her kitchen.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Ella’s lips, threatening to break that solemn expression that had settled on her angelic features.
“Did you eat tonight?” She asked as I watched her eat like a deranged voyeur with a food fetish. I loved watching her eat though. She wasn’t like most women who ate small portions of salad and dry nuts like some sort of woodland creature. Ella ate real food with passion, not afraid of where the calories might settle, simply enjoying the taste. I hadn’t eaten, I didn’t know if I could. Ella stabbed a piece of chicken along with some carrot, held it to her lips and blew gently. My dick began to harden which made me question whether I did indeed have a weird food fetish. She then held it out for me and I gladly accepted. It was either the best chicken I had tasted in my life or I was a starved man. We ate the meal like that, one mouthful for her, one for me until the plate was clean. As Ella rested against the headboard of my bed, the hot chocolate wrapped around her small hands I turned to face her.
“We need to talk Ella.” She took a sip and watched me from over the top of the mug.
“When you call me Ella I know it’s serious,” she sighed. “I agree, we need to talk but I’m kind of emotionally drained tonight. Let’s keep it light, we can do the heavy stuff tomorrow.” I grinned and rubbed my aching neck.
“Do you really think there is any conversation between us that won’t be heavy?” Ella shook her head.
“No, but I can’t deal with it right now, so perhaps we should talk about something else, like, how were those Yankees last weekend?” I laughed at her attempt at what some might call a normal conversation.
“Are you even into sport?”
“Actually, I am. My dad loved sport, baseball, basketball, football, hockey, you name it. He took me to all kinds of sporting events and I actually loved it. Even if I didn’t know what was happening, the crazy atmosphere and the noise was a thrill.” She sighed. “I guess that would freak me out now.” Her smile was lost, replaced with despair that was so heavy I couldn’t understand how she didn’t drown in it.
“I’m sorry you lost your dad angel. Neither he nor you deserved that. I know today is the anniversary of his death, I wish you hadn’t had to go through that alone.” She looked at me with questioning eyes. “Dillon told me,” I admitted.
“It never used to matter whether I was alone or not, it hurt just as bad. Thanksgiving has always been a private day for me but for some reason this year, I thought if you had of been there, it might not have hurt quite as much.” Again I wanted to punch myself for fucking everything up a week ago. “Can I show you something?” She asked as I silently cursed myself for being such a dick. I nodded and she climbed off the bed and rummaged around that big backpack of hers. Finally she stood and crawled onto the bed beside me, her hands filled with what looked like sketches. She opened them, one by one, four in total, all exactly the same.
“This is what I do every year on Thanksgiving. Every year it’s the same. I wake and my chest is hurting so bad it feels like I’m having a heart attack, like someone is crushing me from the inside out. I try to cry, I think if I could just get the tears out I will feel better, like purging the grief from my system, but they won’t come. My stupid fucking tears only come when people are kind to me. Sorrow, anger, pain, I cope with it differently, my body just kind of shuts down.” She picked up one of the sketches and ran her hand over the eyes. They were exactly like hers. “I draw him because I don’t have any pictures. I had one picture that mother allowed me and Marcus took it from me. I’m scared I will forget what he looks like, so I draw him. I had to leave Marcus’s house in a hurry, I didn’t take anything so all the other sketches were left there. Before you, before the sketch pad and charcoal you bought me, these were the only sketches I had done since leaving Dunston.” I thumbed through the pictures admiring her perfect work.
“They’re beautiful angel, you look just like him.” She smiled at that. I knew right then I should tell her about her mother’s death but the words wouldn’t come. She said she couldn’t do heavy and emotional tonight, so maybe it was best the words remained stuck in my cowardice. Carefully I folded the sketches and gave them back to her. She looked nervous as she stuffed them carefully back in her bag and sat back down beside me, rubbing the scars on her arms in what I was now coming to recognize as a soothing action.
“You should try and get some sleep, I want you to have the bed, I’ve got an office down stairs with a fold out sofa bed and the couch is enormous. Custom built for me to pass out on, so I’ll sleep down there.” I stood but she made no move to get under the covers. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” I held my hand out and she took it, but still didn’t move. Slowly she raised my hand to her face and rubbed the cheek that wasn’t bruised across the back of my fingers.
“Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.” Ella whispered. When she looked up at me her eyes were filled with so much need that there was no way I could say no.
“You only had to ask angel,” I murmured cupping her cheek. She leaned into my touch like a cat starved of affection. I slowly sunk to my knees and raised my other hand to her bruised cheek, cupping it gently as I placed my lips over hers. I tried to put every thought, feeling and emotion into that kiss, I tried to absorb her very essence into me. Our tongues gently explored each other as my hands held her head steady, her hands gripping my wrists with such exquisite demand. When we finally parted both of us were breathing with sweet unrestrained abandon.
“I want you so bad Jax. Take me away from all of this, make me feel beautiful.” I searched those sad eyes and it broke my heart that she needed someone to make her feel beautiful. She was the most perfect creature I had ever encountered, but Marcus had obviously beaten all self-worth from this angel.
I was given no chance to respond as she pulled me forward by my shirt. Wiggling back onto the bed she drew me with her and I gladly lowered myself onto her precious body.
Chapter 31
Ella
Part of me was terrified that Jax would push me away. He had been so slow and gentle with me prior to the night of the tree lighting, when all I had wanted was his raw male heat and passion. I had been watching his eyes carefully since coming out of that bathroom and I observed every look of longing and need. He wanted this as much as I did and as his mouth pushed hard against mine, as his tongue explored my mouth, I knew I was done for as far as Jax was concerned. I could never leave him and he would never allow it anyway. I was his and he was mine, it was that simple.
Jax nipped my lower lip and led a trail of kisses to my battered cheek, across my closed eye lids and to the other side of my face where my scar echoed the memories of my previous battles. His kisses continued down my jaw and to the sensitive line of my neck where fresh marks stained my skin. He kissed them tenderly before finding a path that led to my arm. I tensed whe
n he reached the first of my scars there, the spot where hate had found its way into my soul, where I had weakened and attempted to cut the revolt from my body. He began kissing the marks on my skin, kissing the parts of me that weren't beautiful, that not only maimed my skin but branded my spirit and with every single touch it felt as though he was fixing me, replacing the ugly with something beautiful, making me whole again. Once he was finished on one arm, he crossed my body and began on the other. After what seemed an eternity, he pressed his lips to my chest. My fingers gripped at his long blonde hair as his hands crept up under my singlet, his scorching fingers slipping across my ribs and ever so slowly to where I needed them most, but he didn’t touch me there yet. Instead he pushed up my singlet and I raised my arms, letting him draw the thin fabric from my body. Then finally, blissfully, one of his hands cupped my breast as his lips found the other. Slow licks and demanding tugs on my nipples created an unrelenting hunger which began in my stomach and ended up at the throbbing center between my legs. The central loving station as Rebecca had fondly renamed it. I would have laughed at that thought had Jax not lowered his hand under my pajama bottoms right at that moment. He pushed with determination past the barrier of my panties and slipped his fingers straight into my sopping wet core. There was no preamble with his movements, he was like a man on a mission and fuck I loved it. It had been so long since I had been touched intimately and even then it was wrong. There had been no passion, or fire, just disorderly and awkward touches with a quick and unsatisfying ending. With Jax’s mouth capturing my nipple and his fingers relentlessly exploring my core I knew this encounter would end with me being deeply and thoroughly satisfied. I grabbed his shirt trying to pull it from his body, I needed his skin on mine I wanted no barriers between us. Much to my horror he left my body to give in to my demands, pulling his shirt off, then proceeding to shuck his jeans over his hips. He stood before me, his smile seductive, his eyes hungry as they took me in. His shoulders were heavenly and wide, chest carved like a marble statue and a rippling stomach that ended with the magic V that led to every woman’s wildest dreams. I almost blanched at the sight of his impressive cock. It was huge, like the man himself. A small sensation similar to fear crept into my mind wondering if Jax inside me might actually hurt. It had been a long time for me and I even wondered if it were possible that I had somehow become a virgin again during the many years of my abstinence. I scoffed at that ridiculous idea and lifted my hips as Jax hooked his fingers into my pajama bottoms and began to slowly undress me. Any fear quickly disappeared under his adoring gaze. He took his time, kissing my hip bone, my thigh, my knee and eventually the inside of my ankle. He came back for my panties, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my skin that drove me utterly insane.
“If you don’t hurry I might nod off up here,” I quietly teased. Jax’s sinful grin and sparkling eyes told me he knew perfectly well there would be no nodding off while his hands were on my body. He did comply though, swiftly removing my panties. His rough hands slid up the outside of my legs until his face drew level with my hips, then without taking his eyes off me, he lowered his lips to mine and not the ones on my face. No-one had ever touched me like this before and part of me was mortified, but the feeling of Jax’s tongue tenderly caressing my core consumed me with a lust that had no room for inhibitions. My hips now had a mind of their own as they thrust against his face. Jax devoured me like a man possessed and when he pulled away far too soon I actually moaned in outrage. Jax chuckled and snaked a path up my body, stopping briefly to kiss my breasts.
“I’m greedy angel, I want to be in you when you come for me the first time. Next time it will be around my tongue,” he growled wickedly in my ear. He reached for the bedside table and produced a condom, covering himself so quick I barely realized he had stopped touching me to do so. He positioned himself at my core and gently nudged my wet lips, pushing forward to find my entrance. He kissed me again and I could taste myself on his lips, I blushed remembering the wickedness in the way he had just devoured me. I grabbed his firm ass and encouraged him to move forward. With long demanding strokes he gradually entered me. He groaned in my ear and shook with the effort it took to control himself. Once finally seated deep inside he stilled giving my body time to adjust to the somewhat foreign intrusion. He rose above me on his forearms and took in every inch of my face.
“So beautiful,” he breathed, his words laced with awe. Jax placed a lingering chaste kiss on my forehead before he began to move.
My eyes rolled back and my lids floated closed as I hovered in what felt like another dimension, a place where nothing existed except me, Jax and this bed. I quickly grew bold and wrapped my legs around his hips urging him deeper and faster.
“Fuck angel, you’re going to undo me,” he groaned in my ear. His hand lifted my knee, opening me, exposing me and he lifted so he could sink deeper with a new angle that seemed to touch every nerve ending. I arched my back trying to find more, of what I didn’t really know, rational thought eluded me right now. Jax slammed a little harder into my body as if he knew exactly what I needed and with the relentless and demanding pace he had set, I began to climb, my body throbbing with need. Jax bent down to capture my nipple in his mouth, sucking and tugging hard at the small pink bud. I groaned loudly.
“Jax,” I pleaded as an unfamiliar feeling of rapture built from within my body. His mouth left my nipple only to find the other, sampling it with equal ferocity and passion. “Jax,” I moaned a little louder and he leaned forward, covering my body with his, his pelvis rubbing with unyielding insistence over my clit and just like that my body climbed, hovered and fell over an invisible wall of pleasure. My back arched, my head bowed and I screamed his name, my breath coming in raged pants as I found the release my body had been aching for. I felt Jax’s body slam hard one last time as he groaned not my name, but ‘angel’, followed with short shallow thrusts as he emptied his seed. Finally he slowed and allowed his head to collapse, his forehead resting against mine. When I eventually opened my eyes he was staring at me like he had just discovered a new treasure.
“What do you see?” I whispered.
“The woman I love,” he whispered back without hesitation. He grinned and captured my lips in a passionate kiss. “I probably shouldn’t say that to a woman who’s spent far too many years running and has her packed bag beside my bed. I’ll scare you away.” Jax confessed. I ran a finger around the smooth skin of his eye and jaw, noting the slight discoloration from being hit by Phillip. Jax took my fingers away from the bruise and kissed them softly.
“You don’t scare me Jax Carter. I’ve been waiting a long time to find a man who could love me again. My heart is yours, so please be careful with it.” He sighed, his eyes closed as he absorbed my words, his fingers laced with mine beside our heads.
“I will cherish it like the treasure it is,” he murmured. Reluctantly he left my body to get rid of the condom and tidy himself up. When he returned he climbed in under the sheets and draped his big strong and very naked body around me. We were completely entwined, our bodies wrapped up in each other, our hearts beating steady beside one another, our souls permanently merged. In that moment, no demons or nightmares could disrupt the peace we had found in each other.
Chapter 32
Jax
I owned her heart, I had once more gained her trust, and I would never let her down again, I would never leave this angels side. If she tried to run, I would follow. Forcing my eyes open I realized while I was making claims of eternity in my lazy, post-sleep mind, Ella wasn’t in the room. After a fleeting moment of terror I noted her backpack propped against the wall where I had left it last night. I knew she wouldn’t leave without that damn bag. Climbing out of bed I pulled on my jeans from the previous night and moved to the bathroom to wash my face. My eye was black but not swollen, my jaw a little tender but otherwise fine. Fucker, I thought, my mind racing over the details of my encounter with Phillip. I glanced to the shower stall and saw Ella’s body w
ash and shampoo sitting on the shelf and I smiled. The night may have started with terror, but it ended with sheer bliss. Loosing myself in Ella’s body was like stepping into paradise. Sex had never been so fucking perfect, most likely because what I had enjoyed with Ella had not been sex. It was pure unadulterated love. I had told her I loved her. I imagined the first time I whispered those words to a woman it would be a little different. Perhaps over a candle lit dinner or while watching the suns colors bleed into the night sky during a magnificent sunset. But when all is said and done, the magical thing about telling someone you love them is saying the words when the moment demands it, when you can no longer breathe without that person knowing and last night was that moment for me. Ella’s reply that my heart was in her hands was as good as an ‘I love you’ back.
I climbed down the stairs and immediately found Ella staring at the picture she had drawn of Mercy. I’d had it framed and it currently hung by the fireplace in my living room. I leaned against the wall at the bottom of the steps and Ella glanced over her shoulder in my direction. I watched her take me in, her eyes beginning at my bare feet, travelling over my legs, the unlatched button on my jeans, my stomach, chest and finally settling on my eyes. I liked the proprietary in her gaze and the desire in her eyes and I grinned like a man who had just won lottery. She was wearing my sweater and nothing else, she looked utterly adorable. Her face was bruised which sent a fire through my veins, her neck marked by Phillip’s hands. I knew these marks would fade, but it was more brutality on Ella’s soul and fuck knows she didn’t need that. As if sensing my eyes on her fresh bruises her fingers delicately rubbed her neck and she shrugged.
“It doesn’t really hurt,” she murmured, glancing away and stepping cautiously around the fireplace. “I haven’t seen a piece quite like this. It’s interesting, kind of retro destructive?” She was mocking the smashed guitar shoved carelessly into the fireplace and I laughed.
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