Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
He prowled closer. “Damn right you’re not.”
Before I could decide how to respond, Jaxton’s hand closed around mine. He didn’t yank or give me time to argue—just gently pulled me from the chair and deeper into the shadows, until my back hit the cold, corrugated metal wall of the pit.
I gasped, palms flattening against the ridged surface for balance. He was already there, crowding me in, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my hip with a familiarity that stole my breath.
Engines revved, voices shouted, and radios crackled—but none of it mattered when his mouth crashed against mine. It all faded into the background.
Heat flared so fast it stole my breath. This was a completely different kind of kiss. Raw, public, and deliberate. Another new experience for me as his tongue slid against mine with a hunger that made my knees weaken. His stubble scraped my skin, his body pinning me hard enough to feel every inch of him.
I clutched his shirt, the heat of his chest searing through the thin cotton, and dragged him closer. Shameless in the way my body leaned into his, chasing every brush of his lips like I’d been starving for them. Sparks shot through me, desire coursing through my veins and leaving me trembling for all the right reasons.
I barely registered the stares or the sudden hush around us until Jaxton pulled back just enough to rasp against my lips, “Mine.”
The single word shivered straight down my spine, tightening everything inside me. I barely had time to draw breath before he was gone again.
I wasn’t even sure where he’d come from or how he’d known someone was flirting with me. But it didn’t matter when I was still burning and breathless. The only thought running through my head was how badly I wanted him to come back and finish what he started.
But he wouldn’t have left me here if it wasn’t important, so I stayed there, back pressed to the wall, lips swollen and breath ragged.
Everyone had seen. That much I knew. His mouth on mine, his body crowding me close, and the way he claimed me—it hadn’t been subtle.
And I liked that he’d made damn sure everyone here knew I was his.
I smoothed a trembling hand over my hair, trying to look composed, but inside, I was still shaking with want. No matter what happened on the track tonight, I already knew where my mind—and my body—would be. Not on the races. Not on the chaos around me.
On Jaxton.
On the way he’d looked at me like there wasn’t a soul alive who could challenge what was his.
And on the fire still burning through me, demanding more.
10
JAX
The first thing I registered was warmth. Not the sticky Florida humidity that clung to your skin and made the sheets feel damp by morning, but the softer kind that radiated from the woman pressed against me like she’d been made to fit there. Lark was still asleep, curled against me. My hand curved over her hip, thumb brushing the dip of her waist where the sheet had slipped low in the night.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint bleed of sunrise through the blinds. I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to breathe too loud. Or do anything that risked breaking the fragile calm that came from having her here, under my roof and in my arms.
My chest went tight in that way I didn’t let it do often. She looked fragile like this. Breakable. The kind of vulnerability that made my instincts mean, because if anything tried to touch her, I’d burn it down first.
I’d kept her up too late again—couldn’t help it. Every time I told myself I’d let her rest, she’d look at me a certain way, or sigh against my mouth, and my body forgot what the word restraint meant.
Now she was out cold, tangled in my sheets with my scent all over her. And inside her.
I’d never been the kind of man who wanted to share a bed. I liked my space. But with her Lark, waking up like this felt…right. Too right. Almost as good as what I’d had last night—her wrapped around my cock, tight and slick, her head tipped back against the pillows as she came apart for me.
The image hit hard enough to make me grit my teeth. Fuck, I could still feel it—the clutch of her body gripping me like she’d never let go, the shudder that ran through her when my name tore out of her throat. My real name. Not Jax. Not Bishop. Jaxton.
Nobody but my sister called me that. Not even Kane, unless he was trying to make a point. But hearing it on her lips when she shattered? That had wrecked me. Made the ground tilt in a way I hadn’t expected. Her gasping my name, clinging to me like I was the only thing tethering her to the world—it buried deep. Made me want more.