I woke up in my own bed, but nothing else felt familiar. The weight of an arm was slung low over my hips, a solid chest pressed against my back. Jax.
The memory of the night washed over me, his confession in the dark, the feel of his hands, the whispered promise in his touch. My skin still hummed with it.
He stirred behind me, his arm tightening, pulling me closer. His lips found the curve of my neck in a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss that sent a fresh spark straight through me.
"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
Before I could answer, he turned me onto my back. The morning light caught the gold in his stubble. He looked down at me, his eyes tracing my face.He just kissed me. It was slow and deep, a leisurely exploration that tasted like a new beginning. His hand slid from my hip up my rib cage. The sheet that covered us was a thin, useless barrier.
His kiss traveled from my mouth, down my throat. Each press of his lips was a deliberate brand. My fingers found their way into his hair. He tugged the sheet down, followed by the searing heat of his mouth. I gasped, arching off the mattress.
"Jax…"
He looked up, his eyes dark and holding mine. "I'm here," he said, the words a low vow against my skin. He took me over the edge with his mouth, his hands pinning my hips to the bed. I cried out, fragmenting. Before I could even come back together, he was moving up my body, sliding into me in one smooth, relentless stroke.
This was different from the night before. Less frantic, more profound. He moved with a controlled, devastating rhythm, his forehead pressed to mine. He was everywhere, the only sound, the only feeling.
"Look at me," he rasped.
I bit my lips hard". I drowned in him.
"You're mine," he growled, the words pierced like a truth, torn from him as his control shattered.
He followed me into the freefall, his release shuddering through him, my name a sigh against my skin.
Later, we lay in a tangle of limbs and sheets. His hand was splayed possessively on my bare hip, his breathing slow and deep. I traced the lines of a tattoo on his shoulder blade, dark, intricate swirls against his skin, my touch idle and content.
"So," he said, his voice a lazy rumble. "I have a question."
"Hmm?" I was too blissfully spent to form proper words.
"Do you own any pajamas? Or is the plan to just ruin me forever?"
I laughed. "This is comfortable," I said, referring to his t-shirt I'd pulled on.
"It's lethal," he corrected, rolling to hover over me. He hooked a finger in the collar, pulling me in for a kiss. "I like it."
We wasted the day. We ate toast over the sink. He asked about my art. I learned he hated olives, loved classic rock. It was easy.
As the afternoon faded, he pulled me into his lap on the edge of the bed. "I have to go," he said, his voice heavy. "Early site meeting."
The real world crashed back in. I stiffened.
He felt it. His arms tightened. "This is a 'see you tomorrow.'" He tipped my chin up. "I'm taking you out. A real date. No past, Just you and me."
"Where?"
"It's a surprise." A slow, promising smile spread across his face. "Wear something nice.Or Nothing ,and be ready at seven."
He kissed me, then dressed with an efficiency that felt like a theft. At the door, he framed my face and kissed me with a possession that left me weak. "Tomorrow," he promised.
I watched his truck disappear. The apartment felt hollow, but in a new way like a stage being cleared for the next act.
My phone buzzed with a cascade of notifications. All from Maya.
Maya: HELLO? Earth to Ella? You vanished off the planet with a walking marble statue and I'm supposed to just… work? EXIST?
Maya: Send a bat signal. A thumbs up. A single, cryptic emoji. I'm dying here.
Maya: Fine. I'll assume the best. Or the very best. Just tell me he didn't wear socks.
I smiled, a real one that warmed me from the inside. I typed back, feeling a private, giddy power.
Me: He's taking me on a surprise date tomorrow. And no. No socks.
Her reply was instant.
Maya: HA! I knew it. A man with taste. Details to follow, or I'm staging a wellness check. Have fun, my dangerous, secretive friend.
I hugged the phone to my chest, then hugged myself. The smile lingered as I walked back to the window, the city lights just starting to glitter against the twilight blue.
My gaze drifted down, idly following the path his truck had taken.
And froze.
Parked under the skeletal branches of the old oak across the street, a familiar, sleek sedan sat dark and silent. It hadn't been there when Jax left. As I stared, the driver's side window slid down, just an inch. The streetlight glinted.It was Ben!
A cold void opened in my stomach, swallowing the last of the day's warmth.
The car didn't move. It just sat there in the gathering dark.
Watching.