by LJ Evans
I joined her on the bed, pulling her fingers away, kissing them, and kissing the dark curls that were waiting for me, smelling like sex and lemongrass and Jada.
“Mine today, mon petit bijou. Mine. Do I have to keep reminding you? What am I going to do?”
“Punish me?” Her lips curled up, eyebrow lifting in a way that mine normally did.
I slid the condom on, and she watched, tongue licking her lips, chest heaving.
“My way of punishment is very different than the other men you’ve been with,” I promised.
“Big words, Ar―”
My finger went to her lips. “Dax. No more Armaud.”
I hovered over her on my elbows, not wanting my body to land completely on her battered one. I was poised at her entrance, barely touching her. She inhaled deeply, waiting for me to enter her. Waiting in a way that made me smile. I kissed her neck and her jaw, all while I lingered right there, drawing out the moment of release we’d both receive just from me embedding myself in her.
Her hips shifted, and my hand stilled them.
“No, chérie.”
Her eyes flashed a warning. She’d given in to me, let go of the control she normally took, but it wouldn’t take much for it to come rushing back. I entered, ever so slightly, and she gasped with relief. But I didn’t go farther. Instead, I went back to caressing her with one hand and my tongue while the other kept me off of her as best it could with us joined at our centers.
“Goddamn it, Dax,” she breathed out.
I smiled, arching my own brow in return.
And we proceeded this way, me slowly moving into her, mixed with kisses and taunts and touches, until I finally bottomed out deep within her. A movement that was enough to almost take me over the edge just from the sensual pleasure of being fully encased in her. It was a battle to hold back. To hold on.
The contented sigh she gave, eyes closing, didn’t help.
It took me several prolonged moments before I could move again, and when I did, she breathed out my name with no swear words attached to it. Instead, it was with deep emotion. Her hips moved against mine, and I didn’t hold them back this time. Unable to. Unable to do anything but finally give in to the feeling of her surrounding me the way I’d dreamed about for years. The way our bodies were always meant to be joined. The slow movements gave way to an almost frantic rhythm. I didn’t want to hurt her, but her eyes were closed, pleasure coating her face, and the look drove me wild.
She gasped, her walls shuttering against me, and I lost the last bit of self-control I had, going over the edge of obsession and love that I’d told her about as I peaked. Even as I reached the summit, the desire filled me to have her completely all over again. To keep her forever this way. Naked. In bed. Bare to me in heart and soul and body. I craved it with an intensity I’d never had for anything or anyone.
I rolled to my side, bringing her with me, not yet willing to emerge from her or the cocoon we’d made for ourselves.
“I hate you,” she whispered into my chest, and my heart lunged even though I knew she didn’t mean it.
“If that’s what you must feel to accept us, then hate away.”
She gave out a half chuckle. “I hate you because you walked away from this so many times. I hate you because I’ll never be able to repeat this experience with another man. I hate you because you love me when you shouldn’t.”
“Mon petit bijou, just so we’re clear, I don’t want there to ever be another man. I want to be the only one inside you. The only one to touch you. To take your lips with mine. To make you moan.” I attempted to keep every hint of demand out of my tone because I knew the moments of giving me control had disappeared with our climax. Jada would never give it up completely, and I didn’t want her to. It made Jada the woman I loved. But I also needed her to know how serious I was about this. About her.
She closed her eyes, weighing my words.
“Stop thinking, chérie,” I said, hoping to prevent her walls from rising up between us.
“We don’t want the same things, Dax,” she said quietly. Our conversation on the beach about marriage and children was already coming back to haunt me.
“I’d give up anything and everything if it meant a life at your side,” I said softly.
“Your family?”
It hurt—a knife to my heart at the thought of losing Papa and Maman, at the disappointment my father would feel in me choosing a Mori over them.
“Yes,” I told her. What I had to make all of them see, including Jada herself, was that she wasn’t a Mori. She wasn’t her father. She was loyal to those who’d earned it. She was completely dedicated to the people she loved.
Surprise and another emotion crossed her face. It was regret. I didn’t want that tied to what we’d done today.
“I don’t want you to give them up,” she said.
I nodded. “I know. It’s just another reason why I love you.”
She rested her chin on my chest, watching my face, but I wouldn’t look away. I wouldn’t back down.
“If there was no Mori behind your name and no Armaud behind mine, what do we look like to you?” I asked.
“We can’t play that game. It isn’t a possibility,” she said, frustration leaking in. She laid her head back down on my chest so I couldn’t see her eyes. I had a few more minutes before I pushed her too far and she disappeared. I straddled a line I knew I had to in order to keep her.
“I see two people living life with joined hands, walking on the beach, picking up seashells and bringing them back to a house that is already full of them. I see them kissing under a Caribbean night sky where the moon looks so large that it feels like it could swallow the Earth. I see them making love while the sea breeze moves the sheers about them, making it a dream. I see every day a repeat of the last.”
“If there was no Armaud or Mori tied to their name, they wouldn’t be able to afford to live that way,” she said sarcastically.
I smiled. “Fine. If they must, they’d leave their little cocoon during the day for him to work on a sailboat, taking tourists out to snorkel, and her at the duty-free perfume shop at the seaside. When they came back home, they’d lose their clothes as they walked through the door because they’d been apart for too many hours.”
I felt a dampness on my chest and realized I’d made her cry. My arms tightened around her. “Mon bijou,” I groaned out.
She shook her head. “It’s just…beautiful. I wish I could have that.”
I ran a hand through her hair. “You can. We can. I’ve always loved my father’s villa on St. Micah. Let’s go. We’ll make it our home. No one will bother us there. No one will care about two billionaire’s kids who got lost somewhere in the islands.”
The tears were falling faster, and I didn’t know how to help her. I moved so that I was sitting, pulling her up with me, looking into her face and the dark eyes that were filled with longing and sadness but also the love she hadn’t been able to say yet.
“I’m serious,” I told her. “What’s keeping you here? Dawson and Violet? Force de la Violette? You can manage your business from anywhere, traveling back to the city if and when you really need to.”
“What about Éclair and your father?”
I shook my head. “I think he always knew I wouldn’t want it—not in the way he hoped I would.”
“It’s a beautiful dream, Dax. But that’s all it can be. Just like this moment. It can’t stay once we return to the real world. None of it.” She was disappointed, and I was suddenly angry—at myself and her.
“So, this time, you’ll be the one to run? I didn’t think I’d ever see you walk away from a fight.”
She bristled, and it was better than her just giving up.
“I know the difference between a battle I can win and a massacre.”
I laughed. “No one is going to be massacred.”
“I won’t be the reason your family unravels. I won’t have ano
ther Mori destroying the Armauds. We have this. Right now. These days hidden away here at Vanya’s, but when we open the doors and drive back to the city, it’s going to have to be the end of it.”
She was trying to protect me and my family, but it still angered me. I deserved it after all the times I’d walked away from her, left her behind without even a word, but I didn’t want that anymore. I was a selfish bastard who wanted it all.
The thing was, I knew, deep in my heart, that she wanted it, too.
“That means I have a handful of days to convince you of the truth. We’re worth fighting for. A life full of love will always be worth it.”
Jada
DIAMONDS
“The world is for us to take
If every mistake we make
Binds us together strong
Turns into right our wrongs.”
Performed by Imelda May
Written by May, Skarbeck
I gave up arguing with him. My body was screaming at me, and my heart felt battered, a war going on inside it, but I wouldn’t let Dax be the one slaughtered by it. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him give up the love of his family for me. He was one of the only good things in my world. Violet and him. Dawson had his own demons and mistakes that haunted him. We’d added to them between us, but Dax and Violet were bright and shiny.
I’d surrendered to Dax in a vulnerable moment. He’d seeped into all my cracks, and I’d have to find a way to push him back out and seal them behind him so that I could have the strength to force myself away from him again.
But for now…for the couple of days we were hidden away here, I could pretend that there was a world where I wasn’t Jada Mori and he wasn’t Dax Armaud. I’d pretend that we were lovers on vacation and allow us these moments.
I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me, my body and heart exhausted.
The pain woke me several hours later, just as Dax was putting down another tray of food on the dresser. He’d put on a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips and a fitted T-shirt, casual in a way the world rarely saw him.
I moved, and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me before I bit my lip and held the rest of the groan in. I was almost as sore as that first day in the hospital. I’d needed Dax to make love to me. I’d needed it more than I’d ever needed anything in my life, but the consequences were clear. Pain. A harsh reminder that this would end in the same way for both of us…agony.
Dax’s head turned to me, brows furrowing in concern.
He brought a glass of water over and picked up the pain medication from the side table, palming one before handing it to me. I shook my head.
“I don’t want the strong stuff.”
“Don’t be stubborn. You can take this for a couple of days. It doesn’t mean you’ve returned to your old ways.”
I didn’t know if I hated or loved it that he knew those were my thoughts, just like I didn’t know if I hated or loved that he’d seen me through all of my different stages—innocence to wild child, to lost cause, to businesswoman.
“They’ll make me sleepy,” I told him.
He nodded. “And you need to rest.”
I bit my lip, eyes running over him, his sweats at eye level. I reached out and ran a hand along the mound hiding behind them. “If we only have these moments, I don’t want to waste them sleeping.”
He chuckled, low and deep, sitting down and causing my hand to fall back to the bed. “You need to heal. It’s time for a new deal.”
I huffed. “You completely refused to listen to mine.”
He smiled, showing his teeth, eyes twinkling. “Aren’t you glad I did? Space was definitely not what we needed.”
I tried to sit up, and the pain welled up through me again. Even with as little as Dax had let me move, my body was protesting. The endorphin rush while we’d made love had completely hidden my aching muscles. It had been a much better drug than the ones that would make me groggy. But I had a feeling I wasn’t going to convince Dax of that.
“The deal is, you take the pain meds while we’re here—whenever we’ve done too much.” He winked. I simultaneously wanted to kiss him and hit him.
“Just one. Just tonight,” I said through gritted teeth.
He tried to hide his smug smile. He was getting his way too often. I’d chalk it up to my injuries, to the stunning admission that had left his lips, the I love you still hanging around us, and the fact that I hadn’t said it back.
I did love Dax. I had maybe from the moment he’d asked me to dance at thirteen. But if I let those words out to him, if I let them become real by saying them aloud, it would be much harder to take them back and walk away.
I took the pill, swallowing some water, and then he brought the tray over.
I laughed when I saw it. Fast food burgers and fries on china.
His smile grew. “I was a little too preoccupied to cook, so I sent Terrence out for food.”
The Sound of the Waves was back on the tray. I picked it up. “Did you go back to the beach while I was asleep?”
He shook his head, bashful Dax on display once again. “No. Mike and Armando brought everything up with them.”
I laughed softly. “So, pretty much everyone knew we were in here having sex, right?”
He lifted one of his perfectly formed eyebrows. “Does that bother you?”
I shook my head. “You know better than that. Having employees and security around us twenty-four seven means having to give up most of our privacy.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. We ate in silence.
My eyes landed on a shiny object on the tray that didn’t belong—a chain of platinum with a simple charm that read hope.
“What’s this?” I asked. It seemed almost…childish. Like something teenage Dax might have given to teenage me when he was still sending me stargazer lilies as secret messages.
“It’s a GPS tracker that Cillian got for you.”
I picked it up, trying to decipher how the charm was big enough for a tracker. I knew for a fact that most devices were big and clunky. Large. The size of a couple of double-A batteries.
“This? It’s really a tracker?” I asked, surprised.
Dax nodded. “Reinard’s team has access to some cutting-edge technology. They actually test items for some of the developers. This is one of them.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about wearing it. It tossed me back to my childhood and memories I didn’t want.
Reading the things I couldn’t say aloud, he said, “I know it’ll make you feel…trapped, but I’m hoping that you’ll agree to wear it for me.”
For him. God. At one point in my life, I would have done anything for him.
“When I first moved to New London, my father forced me to wear an ankle monitor,” I told him.
Dax’s face grew cloudy. “What?”
“It’s kind of laughable, right? The criminal treating me like one,” I said, tossing the bracelet from hand to hand, feeling relief at having something in them after not having my phone.
“Why did he do that to you?” His voice was quiet, knowing I didn’t like to talk about my father, my past, or things I couldn’t change.
“He was pretty angry. I’d just been kicked out of the fifth high school he’d gotten me into. The only reason they’d taken me was because of Otōsan’s enormous donation, so when I’d ditched class and taken my art teacher with me, it was kind of the last straw.”
Dax’s brows furrowed more.
“What happened?” he breathed the question, hesitant again.
I laughed. “We were having sex in the back of the teacher’s car is what happened.”
He swallowed hard. “That isn’t what I was asking. What happened that changed you from the girl staring at the stars, wanting nothing more than to live in our world, to the girl who hated everything about it?”
I looped my finger in one of the links of the bracelet and spun it around,
the smooth metal colliding with skin a balm somehow, allowing me to retell the story with the same detachment I’d had for years when talking or thinking about the day I’d discovered what and who my father truly was.
“I’d always wanted his attention. I’d been calling out for it, really. I’d done all the ‘right’ things to try and get him to truly see me. But then…I walked in on him watching as one of his minions cut off some guy’s pinkie, and everything changed.”
Dax stilled, then he slowly reached out to grab my hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I lost it, fainting and then coming back around screaming. I was hysterical. He had his minion drag me to my bedroom. I was still sobbing when Otōsan followed me into the room. I was babbling about ambulances and police, and he locked me in until I could calm down.”
“Mon petit bijou…”
I shook my head. “Don’t you dare pity me. Don’t you dare!”
He took the tray and set it on the floor before turning back and tugging me into him, and I let him hold me. “I don’t pity you, chérie. But I can be sorry that you had to see that.”
“It was Obaasan who eventually came to get me out. She explained that my father was a very powerful man in a very dark world, but that I must forget what I saw. That I could never talk to anyone, most especially the police, about it. That I couldn’t talk to my teachers or even my friends.”
“You could have told me,” he said quietly.
“You’d already moved on,” I responded, the ache of that loss still with me even all these years later.
His arms tightened around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. “I never moved on. I tried desperately to bury thoughts of you because I thought that was what I had to do, but I never forgot. I missed you.”
I didn’t respond because my heart was in my throat, clogging it with a wealth of emotions that I normally hated to feel. Sorrow. Heartache. Love.
It was Dax who spoke again. “I left you, and your world crumbled, so you reached out to anyone who’d look at you for even a few moments.”