Page 69

This is it, right here. What I’ve been missing since the day he left.
My throat constricts, and tears prickle behind my eyelids.
He feels like home.
“I missed you so fucking much.” His tone mirrors my same torment.
His heart beats rapidly, resonating with mine.
Tilting my head back, I meet his glassy gaze. “It’s only been a few days.”
He clenches his jaw, furrowing the muscle. “You know what I mean.”
That husky voice sends chills down my spine, and my nipples harden.
“You’re not being very friendly.”
He leans in, his eyes fixated on my lips, the anticipation palpable. “What if I don’t want to be friends?”
Butterflies explode in my stomach, and my heart beats fiercely within my ribcage. “Apparently, we’re already dating.”
“Are we now?” He flashes that wolfish grin, and his hand clasps the back of my neck. “Does that mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?”
His mouth inches closer, and my mind is in disarray.
“This is reckless,” I whisper against his lips.
“This is inevitable,” he counters, his voice deep and raspy.
And before I know it, our lips are pressed together. Desire outweighs caution, and I can’t resist him.
The rough stubble on his jaw scratches my skin, and my fingers clutch his shirt.
It’s gentle and languid until his teeth graze my bottom lip. A surge of arousal hits me low in the belly, and I’m opening for him. Our tongues intertwine, and he devours me. His taste explodes in my mouth, sweet like candy, like red Jolly Ranchers.
“Fuck.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you. No, fuck that—I need you.”
“Jax—”
He cuts me off with another scorching kiss. His fingers move to fist my hair, his erection digs into my hip, and there’s no question where this is leading.
But before we can even begin to unravel this, a haughty voice I hoped never to hear again interrupts.
“Well, well, well…”
I jolt, and Jackson tenses. We release each other, and the tender moment we shared vanishes instantly.
Jackson’s father approaches, decorated in a disheveled police uniform, his shirt partially untucked and open at the collar, his face lax. He’s drunk.
You become an expert at identifying even the most minute signs of intoxication when your loved one has an addiction, and Kyle appears thoroughly sloshed.
His small, beady eyes lock on to mine, and the revulsion emanating from him is unmistakable. He’s here because of me, because of my pregnancy, and he doesn’t approve.
I reach for Jackson out of fear of his father and in hopes of holding tight to this new person he has become. Part of me expects him to brush me off and grow cold, as he has in the past when confronted with Kyle’s wrath.
Instead, he encircles me in his arms and holds me close. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
The anger in his voice vibrates in his chest, and I flinch at his harsh tone.