“It isn’t my home,” Raven snapped.
Jax ignored her. He had no choice because he was afraid if he gave in to his feelings, he’d hurt her.
He needed someone to share his pain.
“It’s not yours, either.”
Jax brushed off her words. As they waited for the coat attendant to retrieve their jackets, he surveyed the ballroom.
Erik stood off to the side, his hands clenching and releasing from their fists.
His mother stood alone, tears in her eyes.
Lucia huddled with Gwen, a smug smile on her face. Gwen’s expression held little emotion, only looked over his shoulder with sympathy at Raven who smoldered behind him.
He hoped she would explode when they were outside. He hoped she would tear into him, give him an excuse to let loose.
As if Justin could read his mind, his driver had the limo waiting when he and Raven stepped outside.
Raven stomped to the car through the snow and opened the door herself, flinging herself into the backseat.
Her indifference at letting him help her into the car the way she was supposed to topped off his anger, and he seethed in his seat, thrumming with tension.
“That was unnecessary,” Raven spat when they cleared the hotel’s circular drive. “And you’re supposed to be teaching me how to behave in public? What kind of aftermath do you think Erik and your parents have to deal with now?”
Simmering with temper, Jax jumped at Raven’s defense of his family, and his rage boiled all over again.
He rose the divider between them and Justin.
Raven snorted in disgust.
Jax sat in silence for one moment, then he struck.
He fisted her hair in his hand, the silky strands tight around his fingers.
Jax jerked her head, making her meet his eyes.
His heart stirred in a way it never had before. Not when he’d been engaged to Gwen, and certainly not when he’d been engaged to Lucia. No. Raven’s eyes possessed something he’d never seen looking at his ex-fiancées.
Compassion.
When Lucia stared at him, it had been with hate, resentment, and jealousy.
She wanted what he had, but marrying him was too much of a price to pay, though she’d been willing to do it.
Raven never looked at him with anything but concern and empathy.
He loosened his hand in her hair, but she didn’t pull away.
Roughly, he took her mouth with his, satisfaction running through him when she whimpered.
He shoved his tongue between her teeth, invading her space, tasting the sweet of a dessert and the smoky flavor of the coffee she’d been drinking with Erik.
Raven leaned against her door, and Jax followed, crowding her until there wasn’t any space between them.
This was what he needed, this was what he craved.
Touch.
When Raven wrapped her arms around his neck, he nearly came undone.
To have someone want him without calculating what she would be given in return was a new concept.
He ran a hand up her leg, his mouth moving from her lips down her neck, skirting the bandage, to her shoulder.
She moaned and widened her legs. “Jax.”
His fingertips brushed her panties, and she whimpered again, but this time the sound was full of desire, not pain.
“Touch me, please.”
“In a few minutes, kitten. We’re almost home.”
The words Raven threw at his back on their way out of the ballroom echoed through his mind.
Jax never gave much thought about his living situation. He’d bought the house when he began thinking about marriage, hoping a woman would be enamored with the floors, the rooms, the waitstaff.
A woman wouldn’t marry him just for himself, Jax knew he was unlovable, and he’d hoped the woman he chose to be his wife would be content with the consolation prize.
The mansion was just a building containing many rooms he had no use for, a place he called home because besides the house where he’d grown up, he never felt at home anywhere.
His house came into view as Justin rounded a curve in the highway. Lights blazed, but they offered no warmth. Stark. Cold. Mariah did her best, but it wasn’t enough. He’d sell it. Before he found another woman to marry. She wouldn’t want to live in the shadow of two ex-fiancées and an ex-wife.
A fresh start in a fresh relationship.
But thinking of Raven as his ex-wife chilled him, and he took her mouth again to chase away the feeling of dread the thought of her leaving gave him.
Of course she’d leave.
He wanted her to leave.
He played with the hem of her panties, the heat from the apex of her thighs warming his hand.
After Justin let them out in front of the stone steps, Jax kept a tight grip on Raven’s arm. Not only to keep her from slipping on the icy ground, but to keep her from changing her mind.
He’d never force a woman—he’d never needed to. Money was a brilliant motivator for women to spread their legs.
But Raven was different.
She’d survived without money.
She’d survived without him.
And she could do it again.
He walked her to his room, the tension sizzling between them. Or at least, he buzzed with it.
She didn’t seem to think twice, more caught up with the hallways of the wing she’d never been allowed to enter.
For a moment Jax wondered at bringing her to his room—how she would feel being taken in the same bed Gwen and Lucia had warmed before her.
But she was his wife—that trumped everything.
He opened his bedroom door and nudged her inside.
Raven looked around the huge bedroom, and he tried to see it through her eyes.
The king-sized four-poster bed.
The sunken sitting room.
The fireplace.
But there weren’t any pictures. There weren’t any knick-knacks or souvenirs. Everything functional. Everything in its place.
This very well could have been a hotel room, and the sterility of it shamed him, and made him angry all over again.
Jax took Raven’s fur, jerking it from her arms.
He tossed it onto a chair and did the same with his own jacket.
She stood in the middle of his bedroom and watched him take off his cuff links and undo his tie.
Strip off his jacket and unbutton his shirt.
He took his time, enjoying the anticipation.
Anticipation was all he had.
He’d be quick—in and out, so to speak—and in less than half an hour she’d be back in her own room.
And he could get drunk and sleep; the release would finally calm him.
He needed something—someone—to take the edge off.
It gave him a small hint of satisfaction to take what his brother wanted. Even though Erik had always been there for him since the shooting, he resented Erik his peace of mind, and he’d done what he could to try to keep that resentment hidden. Erik didn’t deserve it. Then Erik had to set his sights on Raven, and it pissed him off.
Jax clenched his jaw, his teeth gnashing, and reached for her, but she flinched away, taking a step back.
“You’ll be nice.”
Jax blinked. “What?”
“You’ll be nice. You’ve fucked me once in anger. I won’t let you do it again. You’ll be gentle with me, or I won’t let you. Do you understand me?”
He’d screwed her in the church in fury. He’d been angry Gwen walked out on him. He’d been angry he found Raven attractive while at the same time repulsed with her looks and lifestyle.
He’d been furious nothing went his way.
Nothing had changed. He was in the same place now as he’d been three years ago in that church.
The shooting was still there, always, under his skin, never letting him go. That was something else that would never change, would never go away. It would always be a part of him.
His eyes hardened, and he pursed his lips.
Like hell she’d tell him what to do.
Jax advanced, and she stepped back, stepped back until her body was pressed against the wall near his closet.
She stared at the floor, and when he reached for a gold strap of her dress, she lifted her head, tears staining her cheeks.
“Please,” she whispered.
She pressed a kiss to his chest, her lips searing his skin, right above his heart.
And Jax did something he’d never done before—he let a woman take the lead.
Chapter 9
Raven took advantage the high heels gave her height and peppered his chest with kisses while he stood there, heaving, his breath coming from his lips in shuddery gasps.
It took a lot of control for him to rein in his anger, to pause, instead of attack her in rage and lust.
He’d already used her and thrown her away; tonight, he’d have her on her terms or not at all.
She was glad he made the correct choice. Because she would have walked out. He wouldn’t treat her the way he treated the other women in his life. He may not think her better than that, but she did.
If she wanted to be treated like trash, she could find Damien. She was sure he’d take another chance to teach her a lesson.
“Raven,” Jax rasped.
She pressed a kiss to his neck. “Slow.”
Raven pushed off his shirt, and it fluttered to the floor. “Do you think we can turn the lights out?”
Jax grabbed a small remote from his armoire. The overhead light darkened, and a fire flared to life in the fireplace. “How’s this?”
Raven smiled. “Perfect.” She paused. “Is kissing permitted?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He’d kissed her in the car, but he’d done it to punish her for being with Erik.
“Not the way you kissed me in the limo,” she said. “Like this.” Raven pushed him onto the bed, and she stepped between his knees.
She kicked off her heels, no longer needing the extra inches. Soon they would be heart to heart.
She framed his face with her trembling hands. The fire reflected in his eyes, exposing the emotions he couldn’t keep under control.
Pain and heartbreak.
Guilt.
Maybe even a bit of hate.
For whom?
Himself, surely, for taking a life.
Lucia, for not being who he needed her to be.
Maybe even for her, for the same reason.
Jax was looking for someone to rescue him from what he’d done, but no one could.
She covered his lips with hers, light at first, to let him get used to it. Had he never been kissed like this? Like he mattered.
Like someone . . . loved him?
She slipped her tongue into his mouth as she ran her fingers through his hair.
He encircled her waist with his hands, and she stiffened, waiting for him to hurt her somehow, but all he did was tighten his fingers, and she relaxed.
She increased the pressure of the kiss, and he fell backward onto the bed. She followed, startled, falling onto his chest, laughing.
Jax rolled her onto her back and looked into her eyes. “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”
She felt beautiful when he looked at her that way.
“Can I undress you?”
Raven nodded, impressed he’d bothered to seek her permission.
“I’ve never asked before,” Jax admitted, “I’ve always assumed it’s what they wanted.”
“It probably was,” Raven said, goosebumps appearing on her arm where his fingers pushed down the strap. “But it’s romantic, don’t you think? To ask?”
“I’ve never given it any thought,” Jax whispered against her skin, his lips making the goosebumps multiply.
Raven sucked in a breath to say something, but she paused. To hell with it. “It could be part of your problem. Gwen and Lucia, all women, they . . . we . . . need to be treated as more than a quick and dirty lay.”
Jax lifted his lips from her shoulder. “The women I’ve been with knew the score, Raven. Sex isn’t love.”
She knew what he meant underneath his words—he may be doing what she asked, but love wasn’t part of it this time, either.
Placing a hand to his cheek, rough with stubble, she said, “It’s something to keep in mind. For next time.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t refute her words.
Raven stood before him and let Jax push the dress from her body where it lay in a golden pile at her feet. She wore a bra and garter set Grace had chosen, in the same color as the dress. Raven wondered if Grace had insisted on purchasing lingerie because she’d hoped Raven would end up where she was now—in Jax’s bed.
“There’s something to be said for taking your time,” Jax said as he unclipped a garter fastening. He rolled the stocking down her leg, then did the other side.
“Undo your bra?” he said, making it sound like a question instead of a demand.
Raven turned around. “You do it.”
After he released the hooks from the eyes, she held the material to her breasts and looked at him over her shoulder.
“Tease.”
She turned around, clutching the gold lace to her chest. “That’s what one of the men said tonight. He thought I was a hooker who . . . wouldn’t service him.”
Jax frowned. “Who? I’ll pound some manners into that son of a bitch.”
“It’s what you thought,” she reminded him.
“You’re better than that now,” Jax muttered, red staining his cheeks.
“Why?” Raven demanded. “Because my bra is La Perla, and my dress is Tom Ford? I’m the same person in here.” She thumped her chest with the flat of her hand. “Clothes don’t change a person.”
Raven gripped Jax’s chin and made him look at her. “You’re still the same person, Jax. The same person you were before you accidentally shot someone. A good man.”
He pushed her away and stood from the bed in one fluid motion. “Who told you? It’s no one’s business.”
“Your mother told me,” Raven said.
He poured himself a drink from a minibar in the corner of the room. “It’s none of her goddamned business. And it’s none of yours. Get out of here.”
“No.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said no. It’s time to stop hiding from what you did. Own it. Then maybe you can get past it.”
Jax drained his glass, then poured another. He tipped it to her, offering, and had it been any other time, she would have smiled at the manners so engrained in him he couldn’t even fight without being polite.
She shook her head.
He drained that glass too, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his skin cast gold in the fireplace’s flames.
“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do all these years? I have owned it. I make myself pay for it every goddamned day. I get no rest. I get no relief. I can find no salvation. I took a life. And when I did, he took mine.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“It doesn’t?” Jax asked, pouring a third drink. He brought it with him to the bed. “Isn’t that what you did? You say you lost your brother. But you didn’t keep living life like nothing happened. No, you stopped living. So how is that different, Raven? How is that different?”
Raven lost her fight and sank onto the mattress. It wasn’t different. The minute her brother’s body had hit the ground, she’d lost her life along with his.
The guilt she felt because he’d been in the park to find her and bring her home was the same Jax felt for pulling the trigger.
Jax knelt in front of her. “It’s the same, Raven.”
Raven lifted her head. “Then let’s help each other.”
It was different for Jax to be gentle. It’d been so long since he made love with a woman he cared about.
He unbuckled his belt, the button of his
slacks, and unzipped the zipper.
The fight had his blood stirring, and the thought of sinking into Raven’s pliant body made him rock hard.
Naked, he pulled the bra away from Raven’s breasts.
His breath caught.
He’d told her she was beautiful, but that was inaccurate. The flames made her skin sparkle; she looked like a goddess.
“Lie back,” he murmured, and she complied.
He smoothed her panties from her legs and dropped them onto the floor next to her dress.
Grabbing her legs behind her knees, he positioned her along the edge of the mattress. He wanted her so badly he could taste it. Quivering with anticipation, Jax ran his hand along his cock and prepared to push into her heat.
Raven rose to her elbows and glared. “What are you doing?”
“I think it’s clear,” Jax said, annoyed at the delay.
“Not like this, you’re not. The first time you hammered me from behind against a window. You can do better than this.”
“But—”
“You just told me I’m not a hooker, so don’t treat me like one.”
Jax kept the growl to the back of his throat and turned down the bed.
Obstinate.
Stubborn.
Entirely correct.
Raven scrambled between the sheets, and he sat on the edge of the mattress, thankful quite some time had passed since Lucia occupied his bed. At least Mariah had laundered his sheets.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” he said, embarrassed. He should have taken her to a guest room. He had six.
She snorted, rearranging the pillows, dumping two onto the floor. “What? You think I don’t know you’ve had women in your bed? I haven’t been a nun, either. You know Axel and I have a history. It’s fine. Besides, you didn’t love them.”
I don’t love you, either, he wanted to say, but the words stayed jammed in his chest, like he’d taken too big a bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and he couldn’t swallow it down.
He slid into the cool sheets beside her and lay on his side, his head propped in his hand. His other trailed down her stomach, past the trimmed frame of her hair, toward her delicate, deliciously warm skin.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked.
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