Page 24

CHAPTER 24

JAX

Despite my cold, wet clothes sticking to me like a second skin, I’m burning with need for this… Man? Asswipe? Nemesis?

Whatever the hell he is, he’s got me twisted in ways I never saw coming. Every inch of my skin feels electric when he’s near, but damn if I’ll ever admit it to him. I can barely stand the sight of him one moment, and the next, I want to drag him into the nearest corner and show him just how wrong we both are for each other.

So when Pharo suggests stopping at a roadside inn instead of riding back to town in the rain, I jump at the idea.

We roll up to the inn’s shabby parking lot, the neon sign flickering weakly above us, casting an eerie glow on the cracked pavement. Pharo looks at me, and I can see the same thought run through his mind—this place is a mess. But there’s a mischievous spark in his eyes, like he’s enjoying the absurdity of it. Without a backward glance, Pharo kills the engine, and we head inside.

The moment we step into the lobby, I almost laugh out loud. The decor is a bizarre mix of mid-century kitsch and random animal taxidermy. There’s a giant moose head hanging over the check-in desk, its glass eyes staring down at us like it's judging our life choices. The carpet is this awful shade of orange that looks like something straight out of a bad 70s sitcom, and the wallpaper... Well, I don’t even know how to describe it. It looks like someone threw up a bunch of tropical patterns and then covered them in glitter.

The innkeeper glances up at us from behind the desk, a tired old man with a smile that seems more like a grimace. He hands over the key wordlessly, sizing us up like we might be the weirdest guests he's had all week.

I glance at Pharo, raising an eyebrow. “This place looks like it’s straight out of a horror movie,” I say, my voice laced with amusement.

I can't help but laugh when I notice the odd shapes of the various stuffed animals—there’s a bear in the corner that seems far too friendly, and a bobcat staring at me like it’s about to pounce.

“Dude,” he exhales, “I’ve seen that movie, and it doesn’t end well for anyone.”

“We’re gonna need therapy after this,” I mutter as Pharo grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Hope you're not planning on making it weird in here.”

Pharo scoffs, leaning against the counter as he takes the key from the innkeeper. “Weirder than this?” He gestures to the walls laden with dead animals.

I shake my head as we head toward our room, dodging another weirdly positioned owl that seems to be eyeing me suspiciously from the hallway.

He gives me a wicked grin. “I’ve got to admit, this place has character. Maybe I should consider a remodel at home.”

Once inside the room, things don't improve much. There’s a paisley bedspread on the bed, and the curtains are the most garish shade of purple. The bathroom light flickers when I turn it on, and the mirror's so old that the reflection is kind of fuzzy. It’s like stepping back into some sort of time warp.

Pharo steps inside, tossing his jacket on the chair. “Well, at least it’s dry. That counts for something, right?”

I turn to peer at him, a half-smile tugging at my lips. “If by ‘something’ you mean an episode of terrible design, then sure. We’re definitely winning.”

He chuckles, stepping further into the room. “Don’t knock it 'til you’ve had a nap on that bed. It’s practically a vintage experience.”

I shake my head but can't stop laughing. “Yeah, I’ll take my chances with the weird taxidermy out there before I lie down on that. I’m pretty sure I saw that featured on the CDC’s website as a cautionary tale.”

“We could do it against the wall again, just to be safe,” he suggests, removing his sopping shirt.

Heat blooms in my belly, remembering the way he spread me open and ate my ass. Maybe if we skip this talking bullshit and get right to the sex, things won’t feel so weird.

I sidestep him, moving into the bathroom as I remove my shirt. “A hot shower would feel like heaven right now.”

When I turn the knob, an unholy sound rumbles from inside the wall, and the shower head vibrates like it’s trying to have a meltdown. I jump back, startled, my heart racing. A spurt of water shoots out, cold as ice, before it sputters into a dribble.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter under my breath, but then I hear Pharo's voice from the other room, laughing quietly.

“Maybe it’s a haunted shower,” he teases, his voice muffled by the walls. “You know, those ghostly plumbing spirits who haunt run-down inns.”

I scowl at the shower, glaring at the nozzle like it’s personally insulted me. “Why, God? Why are you fucking with me like this?”

Pharo creeps up behind me, in nothing but black briefs. His teasing voice caresses my ear, making me shiver. “Life is a lot like my dick. Short until it gets hard, and then it seems very long. Is your day feeling very long , Jax?”

Fuck. How does he do that? How does he come off so smooth and make everything about his dick? Did he go to some class for that—How to be a player 101?

I roll my eyes, but there's no hiding the grin that forms at the corner of my mouth. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I kind of like that we’re both embracing the ridiculousness of it all. “You have no idea how long, Pharo.”

Finally, after a few more frustrated twists of the knob, the water bursts to life. Peeling off my wet pants, I step under the warm spray and breathe out a sigh of relief.

I lean my head back, letting the warm water soothe my stiff muscles, despite the weirdness of this place. Sometimes, it’s the most messed-up situations that make you laugh the hardest.

If we’d ended up at a swank hotel in a suite with a plush bed and soft robes, I’d probably feel even more nervous. This hillbilly hideaway from hell? Yeah, we could deal with this. It takes the emphasis off of us.

Pharo steps into the tiny stall, crowding me from behind. He reaches over me to adjust the shower head to accommodate his towering height. His hard cock pushes against my ass, and I realize we’re at the perfect height to fuck standing up.

He wraps his arm around my chest, pulling me close. “It makes sense to share. Who knows how long the hot water will last.”

He has a point.

The only bar of soap in the shower has already been opened and used, so that’s out of the question. I reach for the shampoo, pretending it’s an acceptable substitute. Pharo takes the bottle from me, and while I’m soaping my chest and belly, I feel his fingers in my hair. He massages my scalp with soft strokes and works my hair into a sudsy lather. His hands shape my spiky ends into an exaggerated mohawk.

“Have I ever told you how much I like your hair?”

“Uh, no? Not sure you’ve ever given me a compliment of any kind.”

“How rude of me.” He breathes over my ear, and I shiver and press back against his solid chest. “I’ve thought of them many times in my head.” The gentle scratching over my scalp has me hypnotized. “I’ve thought about your tight ass, how perfectly round it is. I’ve thought about your talent at knitting beanies,” he chuckles. “And I’ve admired your skills at breaking and entering.”

Are we flirting? Fuck, this feels stranger than the decor in the lobby.

“Come on, Jaxy, play along,” Pharo urges, nipping the shell of my ear.

Letting my eyelids drift closed, I rest my head against his chest and give myself over to his magical hands. “I’ve noticed your eyes. They’re… unique.”

“My eyes? Is that all?”

“And that little smirky-smirk you do. It feels… dangerous.”

Pharo’s fingers pause for a split second, and I can practically feel the grin spread across his face. “Dangerous, huh? Guess I’ll have to keep you on your toes then.” His voice drops an octave, and I feel a flicker of heat flare up.

“Is that a threat, or are you just that good at flattery?” I reply, trying to sound casual, but I can already tell I’m losing the fight against whatever this is between us.

“You’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for his breath to warm my ear. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This could be dangerous for both of us.”

It already is. I’m in danger of realizing I actually like Pharo.

I shiver involuntarily, and for the briefest of moments, I want to lean into him even more, to feel that smirk against my skin and let myself get swept up in whatever this magnetic pull is. “Funny,” I say, my voice a little tighter than I intended, “I was thinking the same thing.”

His hands resume their work, but now they feel like they’re doing more than just relaxing me. They’re... claiming. His fingers glide over my skin like he’s memorizing every inch, marking me in a way that feels intentional. His touch is deliberate, lingering in places that are too personal, too close.

But hell if I don’t want more of it.

“Jaxy…” His voice is a low whisper now, teasing, coaxing. “What’s it going to be?”

I open my eyes and glance back over my shoulder, meeting his gaze—his piercing, dangerous gaze—and for the first time, I don’t feel like I need to hold back. “I don't know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I sure as hell want to find out.”