Savages: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 3)

by Cassie James

  I could have been dead.

  The silence is so heavy between us but I don’t know how to break it. A “thank you” doesn’t exactly seem appropriate at a moment like this. I guess he gets tired of waiting to see if I’m going to respond, because he shakes his head in disgust and starts for the door again. I slide off the bathroom counter, following him even though I have no idea what the hell to do. When he glances back at me while he’s opening the door, his expression fucking breaks me. He looks disappointed—and dammit even though it makes no sense, I don’t want to disappoint him.

  “Wait.” It’s like some other force takes control of me as I gently push him out of the way of the door and close it. Before, we only closed it, but this time I reach behind me and push the lock. The sound makes Jax’s eyebrows furrow, and then he winces as the motion agitates the cut by his eye.

  He watches me carefully as I walk back over in front of the sink. Our eyes stay steady on each other, never breaking eye contact even as the snap of me unbuttoning my jeans seems to echo louder than it should in this oversized bathroom. I push my jeans down my legs, eyes still on his. I can tell he’s fighting not to look as I kick one leg out and then the other to work them all the way off. Pants now off, I put my palms behind me on the counter and lift myself up, putting myself back in the position I was in before I hit the brakes.

  When Jax doesn’t move right away, I start, “I told myself I wouldn’t beg but—” I don’t even have to finish the sentence.

  He grabs desperately at the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and throwing it behind him as he drinks me in. I can feel nerves try to fight their way into my stomach, a self-consciousness warring within me about showing myself to someone in a bright room like this. I can feel myself tensing up, and apparently he can, too.

  “Relax,” he murmurs as he hooks one finger around the crotch of my panties.

  Telling someone to relax while touching them intimately for the first time is not that fucking effective—but then he slides that one finger across my crease and I’m not thinking about anything anymore but how fucking good it feels to have Jax Woods touching me. It’s like a goddamn art form this guy possesses as he teases me with just that one finger, touching me in a way no one else ever has. I grind against him as he teases me, closing my eyes as I try to cling to some semblance of control.

  It’s no use. Jax knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s not long before he’s sending me over the edge into orgasmic euphoria. All with just that one goddamn finger.

  I whimper as he pulls away from me, my cheeks reddening as the involuntary sound escapes me. As Jax starts to undress himself, I know that all the second-guessing is over and done with. I want this so fucking bad that I’m vibrating for him, my whole body humming with the need to take this so much farther than its already gone. He sheaths himself with a condom as he steps back in between my legs, my eyes drinking him in. He’s pure perfection. Still an asshole, but an asshole with the kind of body wet dreams are made of.

  My hands reach out for him, pulling him closer so my fingers can tangle in his hair. His hands somehow manage to lift me up enough to slide my panties down my thighs. He has to pull away for a moment to take them the rest of the way off, but then he’s right back against me, my bra the only thing between us now. And his fingers make quick work of that, too, reaching behind me to deftly strip me of my last piece of clothing.

  There’s nothing but skin on skin left. He blows out a long breath as he takes a good look at me, his eyes lingering on my bare breasts for a long moment before he looks up at my face again. “You’re not—” he stops short. “Have you slept with them?” I’m assuming he means any of his friends. I shake my head no. “But you’ve done this before?”

  “Yeah.” I press a hand to his chest when he starts to lean in again. “But not, uh, a lot.”

  There’s a spark of pleasure in his eyes as I divulge my lack of experience. He likes that. His hands skate up over my thighs, my hips, my stomach, and then come to rest with his fingers just barely brushing the edges of my breasts. I squirm, the feel of his hands so good but so not enough. He smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing. When he finally indulges me by brushing his thumbs over my nipples, my whole body arches up against him, his rock hard dick sliding against the sensitive skin between my legs. This is as close as two people can get to sex without actually having sex.

  He doesn’t move right away, and a sudden wave of fear crashes over me that he’s going to stop things right here. Just turn and walk away and leave me here like this, needy and not fully satisfied. It would be one hell of a cruel joke to play.

  “If you don’t relax, there’s no way I can fuck you without seriously hurting you. You’re too nervous, I could barely get a finger inside of you.” He’s not even trying to be sexy, his voice is matter-of-fact, but damn if the words don’t make me whimper anyway. I could probably get off just from hearing him talk about fucking me—and I can’t even imagine how much easier that would be if it was actually dirty talk. I’m the most dangerous kind of spark right now, ready to go completely up in flames at any moment. “I need to know you’re listening. Nod or something.” He smirks like a guy who knows exactly how gone I am.

  “I don’t care. Please, Jax.” I reach down between us, fully prepared to do all the heavy lifting myself if that’s what it fucking takes. I can’t wait another second. Every minute I’ve spent with Jax since I got here has been foreplay. And a whole year’s worth of foreplay does not a help a girl with being patient.

  He grabs my wrist before I’ve done much else than brush the head of his dick, but he still sucks in a sharp breath. “If you put that hand on me right now, neither one of us is going to be able to get what we both really want right now.”

  I nod, my eyes probably as wide as saucers as I let the weight of his words sink in. It’s not just me. He’s dancing too close to the edge, too. We’re too good together. Too hot. Too impatient. Too everything. I close my eyes as Jax plants one hand on my hip and then within seconds, I can feel him lining himself up, preparing to give me exactly what I asked for. Begged for, really. Just like he said I would.

  He wasn’t joking when he warned me it would hurt. I cry out as he enters me for the first time, the pain not much better than when I lost my virginity. He pauses, all of his muscles tightening from the effort it takes for him to hold still for me.

  “Keep going,” I tell him in a tight voice.

  “Not until you fucking relax.” He moves just enough to give him access to something he’s never done before. He kisses me softly. “I’m glad you came home,” he whispers against my lips.

  Whatever eternal resistance had still been holding out seems to give way with those words. I couldn’t figure out why he thought I was so not relaxed before, but I can feel it now as my body opens up to him, letting him ease the rest of the way into me. The pain is gone, replaced instead with blinding pleasure as he finally starts to actually fuck me.

  He moves slower than I anticipated, slowly building up speed as he alternates kissing me and staring down at my body as he runs his hands over it. It’s like he can’t get enough of touching me. God, I can’t get enough of it either.

  I try move my body in time with his, but I’m a complete mess. It isn’t long before I’m coming undone all over again, my fingernails digging into his back as I hold on for dear fucking life. He slows slightly, letting me ride out the wave of pleasure without overwhelming me. My body quivers with aftershocks as leans his cheek against mine.

  “Tell me you like me,” he mutters in my ear.

  “What?” I’m not even sure how he can form a coherent sentence right now, and I’m sure as hell not sure how his brain is functioning enough to even think about something that major at this exact second.

  “Tell me,” he demands again, his hand snaking up into my hair and forcing my head back so that I’m looking into his eyes. I do love it when he yanks my hair, though it’s a secret I have every intention of taking to
my grave.

  I don’t want to say it. It feels too big. Too big for this bathroom. But he’s gone still and I know he’s just stubborn enough to stop if he doesn’t get what he wants. I blink hard and force myself to turn the words over in my head. They’re not untrue—but am I really ready to say them? Insecurity flashes through his eyes, and the second I see it I know there’s no use holding back. We’ve already made things messy.

  “I like you, Jax Woods.”

  Those are the magic words. He wastes no time driving into me again, his mouth fusing to mine as he finishes with jerky movements, kissing me until he has to stop as he groans out my name and stills. I barely even hear it over the sound of my own panting. I’m fucking spent. Everything I had I’ve handed right over to him, letting him drain me both physically and emotionally.

  He’s quiet as he helps me up, dressing himself before he starts handing me my clothes back one by one. Bra. Shirt. Pants. Uh…

  “You forgot something,” I point out, holding out my hand.

  “I don’t think I did, no.” But he grins, so I know he knows exactly what I mean. Fucking hell—Jax Woods wants to keep my panties. Fuck it. I look pointedly at him as I tug my jeans on sans underwear. His grin widens.

  When we’re both dressed—and as overall collected as we’re probably gonna get right now—Jax reaches around me to open the bathroom door, wrapping an arm around my waist from behind as we leave the room together. His hand snakes up the front of my shirt. It’s not the easiest position for walking, but I’m not complaining, the feel of his hand splayed across my bare stomach helping me to reground myself.

  The house is much quieter now than when we first disappeared into the bathroom. We pick our way quietly down the hall, but about halfway to the staircase we somehow manage to trip together, both of us ending up sprawled in the floor, me half on top of Jax from where he made sure to help break my fall. I laugh so hard I snort, and then Jax is laughing too and it’s the most genuine, sweet thing I think I’ve ever heard. This is nothing like the cruel laugh I’m used to from him.

  “Well this is fucking cozy.” We both fall silent as Patrick comes to hover over us. He breathes in deeply, probably trying to tamp down the jealousy he knows I hate. He really has been working on it, and it shows. His narrowed eyes start to return to normal. He offers me a hand up, which I gladly take.

  Jax gets up, too, but I almost wish he hadn’t when he opens that fucking mouth of his. “Not nearly as cozy as it would have been if you’d walked in on us five minutes ago.” He smirks at Patrick, glee flashing in his eyes as Patrick goes right back to being agitated. “Good news for you, though, isn’t it? I told you all from the beginning she was off-limits until I had her first, but now the rest of you can consider it a fair game.”

  “A fair game? Really?” I back away from both of them, throwing my hands up for them to stay back when they both try to step towards me at the same time.

  Jax’s smirk falls as his mouth twists into a deep frown. “I didn’t mean it like that.” But how the hell does he expect me to believe that now? While he’s busy gloating about having me first? No wonder he was so goddamned pleased with my lack of experience. He wanted to make sure he was fucking winning something by fucking me before his friends did.

  How could I be so blind? Of course that’s something he would do. He’s Jax Woods. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. And the guys, who spent all summer trying to convince me differently, were just fooling themselves.

  Despite me waving at him to stay back, Jax closes the distance between us and lowers his voice. “Don’t ruin what we just did.” My mouth falls open.

  “Are you kidding me? You think I’m the one ruining it? Take a look in a goddamn mirror.” I push him away from me. I can’t even stand to look at him right now. I force my feet to move toward the stairs. I don’t want to look at either of them. I just want to go home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wring my hands nervously together as I wait for someone to answer the front door. I didn’t like the way we left things last night, so I’m swallowing my pride and coming to fix it. Except, no one has answered the door yet and I’ve already rung the doorbell three times like a crazy person. I think it’s time to accept that either no one’s home or he just plain doesn’t want to see me.

  I take a few steps back toward my SUV before I hear the door open. I turn back, sagging with relief when Neema Dupont greets me with a wide smile. I retrace my steps back to the front door.

  “Sorry, sweetie. There’s a very lively debate about the merits of artificial intelligence going on in the living room. I almost didn’t hear the door.” Only in a headmaster’s house would I ever expect to hear those words strung together like that. How many other families were sitting around debating artificial intelligence on a Saturday night?

  I follow Neema into the house, and almost right away I hear what she was talking about. Lively debate is right. They’re basically yelling at each other, and when we turn the corner into the living room, I see they’re also standing toe-to-toe.

  I’ve officially never seen anything like this. Neema calmly takes a seat on the couch as I hover by the doorway. It takes a second for Headmaster Dupont and Patrick to even realize I’ve joined them. When they do, their debate dies off. The headmaster offers me a warm smile, but Patrick glances away, avoiding looking at me. I’m sure he’s mad at me for walking out on him last night, but I’m mad at him for making me feel like I had to. We need to hash it out, the way I hashed things out with Ace. Maybe then Patrick and I can move forward as easily as Ace and I have since then.

  “Patrick.” A wave of nerves suddenly hits me as I realize how horrifyingly embarrassing it’s going to be if he denies me in front of his parents. “Will you take a drive with me?”

  Neema clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Oh, Patty. Of course you should go. The two of you can go up to Churchill Point again.” He covers his mouth with his hand as he turns away in embarrassment. If he’s embarrassed about telling his mom we’ve gone up to Churchill Point together, he shouldn’t be. I actually think it’s cute. Gotta respect a guy that respects his mama enough to talk to her about his dating life.

  After a moment, he makes himself face me. “You want me to drive?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Sure.” He knows the roads a lot better than I do. And I’m pretty sure he would never abandon me on the side of the road or anything.

  He grabs his keys while I make small talk with his parents. They’re really great people, and a part of me can’t help but wonder if they’d be this nice to me if they knew their son wasn’t the only boy I’m dating. Patrick might talk to his mom about dating me, but I’d be willing to bet all of Lexington Estate that he hasn’t given her all the sordid details of our arrangement. His father on the other hand, I study him closely looking for any sign that he’s picked anything up from the gossip mill at school. He certainly doesn’t seem like he’s keeping secret judgements to himself.

  I tell them goodbye when Patrick returns, and we walk out together to his car. He doesn’t take my hand, but he walks closely enough that our shoulders brush. I can smell his familiar woodsy cologne and as he opens the passenger side door for me, I pause to close my eyes and just breathe him in.

  I only open them again when I feel a gentle touch caress my cheek. “It’s really hard to be mad at you,” Patrick says as he cups my face in both hands.

  “That makes sense considering I’m the one that should be mad.” He frowns but doesn’t stop stroking his thumbs across my cheeks in soothing circles. “You keep letting your jealousy get the better of you. You shouldn’t have agreed to date me like this if you couldn’t actually handle it, Patrick.”

  “What I agreed to and what we’re doing turned out to be two different things.” He snorts. He starts ticking names off on his fingers. “There was Smith. And then surprise! There was Ace. And now there’s Jax, despite the fact that you denied all summer that it would ever happen. There’s alw
ays someone else. Every time I think I’ve gotten used to how it is, you’re fucking someone else.”

  “That isn’t fair.” My voice shakes.

  “No, that’s right. Apparently, you’re only actually fucking Woods.”

  There’s so much venom in his voice and I can barely stomach it. I get what he’s saying, I really do. We’re in a relationship, we should talk about things, I shouldn’t just be springing other people on him with no warning. But then that’s something we should talk about, it shouldn’t be an excuse for him to talk down to me like this. I get that he’s used to being the king of the world everywhere else, but I only want a relationship where I get to feel like an equal. And that’s something Patrick has struggled with ever since I got here.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I tell him, pulling out of his grasp and taking a step away from the car. I’m not going to drive out to what’s supposed to be one of the most romantic spots in the whole city if all we’re going to do is fight once we get there.

  His eyes go wide with alarm. “Seriously. That’s it, you’re just done?”

  “What? No!” I shake my head profusely. “I meant maybe we shouldn’t go driving across town together when we’re already fighting before we’ve even made it into the car.”

  “Oh.” His posture relaxes as he swings the car door back and forth with one hand. “Look, I don’t want this to be how things are. I don’t want to be the boyfriend you fight with. I just want to be able to be prepared for what’s going on, instead of always feeling like I’m being fucking blindsided.”

  “I think that’s completely fair,” I tell him, closing the distance between us again. “And I’m sorry that’s not how it’s been.”

  “Okay, so let’s go for that drive, then.”

  Everything feels a little lighter now that we’ve acknowledged the elephant in the room. Patrick asks me about my classes and I indulge him the way I would no one else—by telling him what’s actually going on in my classes. Unlike other guys, I know he’s not asking a generic question when he asks about school. He actually gives a shit. One of the best things about Patrick is how easy he is to talking to just because we’re intellectual equals. I’m not sure how many other guys there are in the world that would care what I wrote my last English essay about.