She nods and shifts. “Mel will take care of him in the morning,” she whispers. She moves out of the doorway but I stay for a few moments longer before turning away. I notice the rooms are adjoining, and I smile. Melody left the doors open for her. She only closes Melody’s side of the door. This way she can open it when she wants and have access to Jaxon. Rebel leaves hers open a crack.
“Did you bring your food?” she asks me.
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Liar.” She shakes her head. “Come on, help me eat mine.”
She grabs the container and takes it into the little kitchenette and finds a plate. I follow after her, taking a seat at the table. She puts the plate in the microwave to heat it up. While she waits for it, she turns, looking at me. “What do you want, Xavier?” she asks me softly.
I sigh. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t had time to process everything, Skye. I want you, and I need him.” I point toward the doors we closed minutes ago.
“Why?” she breathes.
“Why what? You or him?”
“Me.”
“Because if there are two people in this world who deserve to be happy, it’s us.” I look down at my hands as I continue, “We were dealt a shit hand in the card game, Skylar. We can either give up and fold, or we can throw away half of what we’ve got and pray we get better cards. I need better cards, Rebs, and those cards involve you.”
She doesn’t say anything and then the microwave beeps. She doesn’t move. She just looks at me. “I’m not perfect, Dirk.”
“I’m aware,” I say sarcastically. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not ready for a new hand.” I push my finger down on the table, picking up a piece of lint before I tell her, “If our dads hadn’t died,” I keep my voice soft, “things would have been completely different between us. I firmly believe that.”
“How do you know?” she counters.
“Because I would have been there to protect you. To keep you safe, to help you discover yourself.” My eyes meet hers. “So you’d never have to feel alone in this shitty fucking world.”
“Xavier,” she breathes, “you don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. I just know that after you left all those years ago, it was what I needed in my life. Things could have been completely different between us.”
“Your mom might still be alive,” she adds softly.
I shrug. “Who knows. I saw a different side of my mother after Jack died. A side I truly believe was always there. Jack’s death made me grow up faster than I was ready. I had to find a way to help her, to help us. It…” My eyes meet hers. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. It just may have prolonged the inevitable.”
“What if we were never meant to be?”
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to read her. “Are you saying that you, in the last 20 years, haven’t thought about me?”
She looks away, and I know I’ve caught her. “I left it there on purpose.” Her voice is so low I can barely understand her.
“Left what?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine, there’s a mischievous little grin on her face. “The bunny.” She crosses her arms over her chest in an effort to break our eye contact. “I wanted you to remember me. To never forget me.”
“Then why are we fighting this?”
“Because I don’t know how to do this,” she confesses. “I don’t know how to be a girlfriend, a fiancé, a wife. Hell, I’m barely handling being a mother and having another person who depends on me, who needs me.” She sighs. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Jax is everything to me.” Her eyes meet mine, there’s hope in them for the first time as she says, “Because he’s part of you.”
I stand, skirting the table and moving to stand in front of her. I reach for her wrists and unfold her arms. I look down at her, into her eyes, pouring every emotion into her I possibly can convey. “Stop fighting this,” I beg.
“It’s hard.”
I press into her, holding her to the counter, and I cup her cheeks in my palms. “Life is hard,” I counter. “Love is easy; it’s natural.”
Her mouth falls slack as I feel her pulse pick up in her veins. I can feel it in my fingers.
“It’s easy,” I add.
“Show me,” she whimpers.
My lips slant over hers.
Chapter 33
Skylar
My walls rattle.
Quake.
Tremble.
Crumble.
Completely fall apart.
His lips on mine are everything.
Every ounce of love, life, happiness, and hope pour between us the longer our lips are locked together.
He’s obliterating everything I’ve built.
Everything I thought I knew was right. Making me see and understand that there is so much more to life than money and protecting myself.
There’s love.
There is life.
There is hope and joy.
Family.
I moan as his tongue slides along mine. My pussy heats with a need to feel him inside me once again. A need I have ignored for over two years.
I whimper, breaking the kiss. “I need you.”
“I’m here. I’m all yours.” Lust and desire make his voice husky.
I hit cancel on the microwave, then take his hand, leading him toward the bed. It’s in a different part of the suite, though, not behind closed doors. He comes with me easily. I release his hand and pull my shirt up and over my head. I turn toward him. He looks at me as if he needs me like he needs his next breath. His eyes are hooded with need as he drinks me in. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I moan.
He smirks and reaches for the hem of his shirt. In one quick move, it’s gone, and I’m hissing through my teeth as I drink him in. His well-toned muscles, the V that disappears into his jeans. I narrow my eyes. “What is that?” I say pointing toward his left pec. Opposite his mother’s tattoo, there’s a bunny that looks eerily similar to mine sitting amongst a bouquet of flowers, most of which are tattooed on my own body. “Why?” I breathe.
He smirks. “I told you.”
I shake my head. “No, you didn’t.”
He stalks toward me, closing the distance between us and cupping my face in his palms again. He lifts my face toward him. “Because, Skylar Rebel McKay, I fucking love you.” His lips land on mine, kissing and coaxing me to open. Warmth and need consume me as I whimper. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him against me. Feeling his warmth blanket over me as I let go. I let myself truly feel his words in his kiss, his touch, his closeness, but it’s not enough—I need more. I reach for the fly of his jeans and quickly undo it before sliding them down his thighs.
His cock bounces against me as it’s freed, and I moan, breaking our kiss. “I need you,” I whine.
He smirks before ridding himself of his shoes. I slide my pants down my legs along with my panties and lose them with my shoes as I kick them off to the side. I unhook my bra at the same time he pushes his pants down his legs. “Asshole,” I growl as I take in the second addition to his body. Going from his right hip to just above the sock he wears for his prosthesis is my name, ‘Rebel’ in a tribal style script. Behind the letters are his own version of a cherry blossom tree.
He has a wicked little smirk on his face. “Like that one?”
“No,” I lie.
“Liar.”
I smirk. “Why that leg?”
“Why do you think?” he asks, and I shrug. He smiles. “Because you’re the only person who’s ever accepted my limitations.”
Sadness fills me. “I’m the only person you’ve ever let see your limitations,” I remind him.
“Yes, because you’re the only one I’ve ever trusted with them.”
I nod, understanding his meaning. Even that night in New York, he didn’t take off his pants until I asked. When he did, I didn’t turn away from him. I didn’t shut him down. Why should I? It’s a part of who he is. “Take it off,” I tell
him.
He smiles sweetly at me before turning to sit on the side of the bed. I climb up and settle myself behind him, pressing my nakedness to his backside while he slides off his prosthetic. I notice immediately that it’s not the same one he wears on the boat. I wrap my arms around him, running my hand up and down his chest while he situates himself. When he’s done, I kiss his shoulder, then the side of his neck, before releasing him and turning toward the covers on the bed. I pull them back and climb over them, pushing them out of the way as I lay there, waiting for him. He stands awkwardly, turning himself around before climbing on the bed.
The next thing I know, he’s between my legs, breathing warm air against my sex, and I shiver. I reach down, finding his hair tie, and I pull it free. His hair falls around his face. I put the tie on my wrist before putting both of my hands in his hair, pulling it off his face, and he grins. Then his tongue swipes through my sex, quickly finding my clit, and he flicks his tongue against me. I moan and my back arches off the bed. I grip his hair in my hands and pull him toward me.
He doesn’t miss a beat.
His tongue stroking, his mouth sucking.
He doesn’t relent.
His assault makes my nipples pebble and my body quake with need. He knows it, sensing it somehow, he picks ups his pace against me. He knows I’m getting close. The pleasure and need rolling through my veins. My orgasm roaring to the surface. My back arches again. My hand tightens in his hair as I grind my pussy against his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. He simply sucks and flicks harder. Sending me over the edge, I cry out his name as I explode.
He slows his motions, allowing me time to recover. But it doesn’t last as he climbs up my body. I release his hair as he licks and kisses until he finds a nipple. He licks, flicks and sucks it into his mouth. His hair tickling against my skin, and I moan in pleasure once more.
The next thing I know, his lips slant over mine, and I’m gasping for air. Every nerve in my body tingles, alive and sensitive, desperate for his touch. My pussy clenches, silently begging him to enter me. To be inside me once again.
His lips are soft and urgent against mine. He devours me, and my heart picks up in triple time as I realize that no matter how hard I tried to deny this attraction, it’s impossible. It’s still there. He feels it, I feel it. I need it and him. I break the kiss. “Please,” I beg.
He smirks and shifts. I moan as I feel the head of his cock against me, and I flick my hips up hoping he catches my meaning. I see lust glaze over his eyes, his lids dropping into hooded slits as he finds my entrance and slowly pushes inside me. I cry out, that warm rush of breath leaving my body as he pushes himself inside, deeper and deeper.
My need for him crashes like waves on rocks as he sheaths himself fully inside me. “Don’t stop,” I mewl. “I need you.”
He pulls back just as slow as he pushed in, and I wrap my legs around him, holding him to me, pushing down. I need him to move. I need to feel him taking me in the most carnal of ways. “Faster,” I breathe.
He lowers his head, his hair coming to surround me, tickling my sensitive flesh. I moan. As my pussy pulses and clenches around his cock inside me, I grind against him. Begging him to move. He shifts, bringing his legs up, lifting my hips in the air and lining himself up perfectly.
He pulls all the way back and slams into me.
I cry out nonsensical words.
He pulls out and repeats over and over again.
My own orgasm balances on the edge of the cliff, ready to tip over. I grab his arms, squeezing them before sliding my hand into his hair and pulling him down to me. He comes willingly, and I press my lips against his. His hips move faster, shallower and harder inside me. The tiny strokes against that special spot inside me quivers with a need to come. He knows it as my body starts to quake with its release. He picks up his pace. I hold him tighter, my hand fisting in his hair as I explode around him. He pulls back from our kiss, growling as he releases inside me.
He presses his forehead to mine as we both find a normal rhythm with our breaths. My heart slowly returns to normal. He’s still rock hard inside me. “I missed this,” he says softly.
“Me too,” I agree.
He rolls over, bringing me with him, our bodies staying connected as he settles on his back. I feel him pressing deeper inside me, and my core clenches around him. I can’t stop the grinding of my hips. My clit rubs just right against him. “Faster,” he begs.
I smirk and reposition myself for more leverage and I start to slide up and down his cock. He meets me on my upward motion and pushes deeper and deeper with each thrust down on him. His hands move to my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “I miss your rings.” He tugs on my nipples and everything quivers. He smirks then rolls them again. The four points of contact—inside me and both of my nipples, and my clit rubbing against him—send me over the edge again, and I cry out his name. “Maybe not,” he chuckles softly.
I don’t pay much attention as I come down from my orgasm and slowly start to move again. His hands move from my nipples, down my body to my hips where he grips me tight. Holding me down to him and lifting me, driving me up and down his cock. His hands fist tighter and tighter the closer he gets to his own release. He grunts and twitches inside me, and I know he’s close. I take over as best I can, forcing myself down on him harder and harder with each thrust until he’s growling out my name.
I collapse onto his chest, spent and exhausted, the day’s events crashing over me as we both work to slow our breathing. The blood rushing through my ears is nothing compared to the fact that my heart is beating in time with his. Fast with exertion. With my eyes closed, exhaustion starts to consume me as he slips from inside me. He rolls us over so we’re chest to chest. He pulls the covers up and over both of us. He settles with his head on the pillow above me, his arms around me and mine around him. Holding each other as we drift to sleep.
Chapter 34
Xavier
Tap.
Tap.
Tap…
I open one eye.
My lips spread into a sweet smile at the sight of Jax standing next to the bed with his little hand on my shoulder. He raises his hand and taps me again. “Good morning, little man,” I coo.
His face splits in two with a cheeky grin.
My eyes catch the clock; it’s just before eight in the morning. I reach out blindly behind me to find Rebel still in bed with me. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as she shifts and wraps her arm around me from behind and rests her head on my shoulder. “Good morning, peanut. Did you find Daddy?” She smiles at Jax.
“Yeah!” he says with excitement.
“Where’s Melody?” Rebel asks him. He turns, pointing toward the doorway we’d closed last night. “Did you sneak in here?” she singsongs.
He giggles.
I can’t help smiling and my own little giggle from bubbling up at seeing him and just how sneaky he is. “Are you hungry?” she asks him.
His face sobers, and he puts his fingers in his mouth.
“Go tell Melody, she’ll get you something.”
He shakes his head and points at her.
“What’s he want?” I ask.
“Me,” she says, shifting. “Want to pick him up?”
I nod and reach for him. He lifts his arms for me and I pick him up at the same time Rebel shifts off of me and lays down behind me. I hand Jax to her and she lays him down. Her nakedness makes it easy for him to settle and he latches on to her. Then he grabs a piece of her hair and starts to play with it.
I roll over, facing both of them, making sure I stay covered as I do, and I put my head on my hand, watching them. “I thought you only did this at night?” I ask.
She smiles. “I do, normally, but I suspect his schedule is a little screwed up.” She brushes curls out of his face as he continues playing with her hair and nursing.
After a few minutes, Melody appears. “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, “I was making his breakfa
st and…”
“No worries,” Rebel says. “I’ll send him back in when he’s done.”
“Okay,” Melody says and she leaves the room.
Jax starts to get restless and releases her. “Want your breakfast?” Rebel asks him, and he moves to crawl away. She chuckles and shifts to help him down. He runs off to the other room. Melody appears a moment later and shuts and locks the door with a click. “Sorry he woke you,” Rebel says softly once we’re alone.
“I’m not,” I tell her. “It was kind of…cool.” I smile at her. I don’t know how else to describe the feeling of being woke up by my son. It warmed my heart, and for the first time since I found out about Jax, I didn’t hate Rebel for keeping him from me. It’s very obvious she’s done everything she could to keep me in his life without me physically being in it.
“You sure?” she asks.
I look her square in the eyes, trying to convey just how okay it really is. “He’s my son,” I remind her.
“I know, but…”
“But what, Skylar? He’s my son,” I say tersely.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she relents.
“But what?” I ask, calmer.
She sighs and looks down at the sheets, picking at something, avoiding my eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…you’re right.”
I let it go. “I’m not used to it,” I confess, “but I wouldn’t change it.”
She nods. “I know,” she whispers.
I take a deep breath, calming myself from getting unnecessarily pissed again. When I fell asleep last night, I made a promise to myself that I would find it in me to forgive her and figure out how to move forward with her and Jax in my life.
“Come here,” I say softly, holding my arms out for her and she moves, settling into me. I kiss her forehead.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Rebel says, breaking the silence after long minutes of simply holding each other.
Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance Page 26