Page 16 of Meesha & Connor (What Happens In Vegas #2)

I fold my legs underneath me and sigh, feeling the weight of the weight of my bad decisions pressing down on me. I am acutely aware of Jaxon’s intense gaze following my every movement.

“Listen,” I begin, keeping my voice reasonable. “What we did was a stupid, drunken mistake. We don’t need to make it a bigger deal than it is.”

I move my hands as I speak, needing to physically punctuate each point, as if the gestures can somehow make him understand.

“We can annul the marriage quickly and never speak of the incident again. We can get on with our lives and marry the people we love.”

I smile at him, hoping to convey this solution as perfectly sensible. The storm intensifies outside, but it is nothing compared to the storm brewing in Jaxon’s eyes.

“You’re dating someone?” His voice is carefully controlled, but I catch the edge underneath.

“That is none of your business!”

“I disagree.” He moves closer, the leather of my sofa creaking beneath his weight. The distance between us shrinks, and my heart rate picks up in response. “You’re my wife.”

“I said my piece. I don’t plan to engage with you further.” My words sound firm, but my pulse skitters as he continues to stare.

“We need to come up with a more reasonable plan. Not an annulment.”

Outside, a violent gust of wind hurls snow against my sliding door with a sound like sand being thrown. I wish I could blame the chill running down my spine on the weather.

“Divorce?”

“No. I was thinking more along the lines of staying married.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to keep this marriage going. I’d rather staple my own hand to my desk.” My voice gains strength. “We don’t like each other.

“I like you,” he says, completely unfazed by my hostility.

My mouth slackens. My brain scrambles for logic, for footing, for something solid to hold on to, but everything tilts. Something flips in my stomach—not unpleasant, but dangerous in its intensity.

No one should have this kind of power over me. Especially not him.

This is ridiculous. I dislike Jaxon. The arrogant tech CEO who tormented me as a teenager, who’s always taken pleasure in getting under my skin. I don’t have feelings for him. I can’t. That would make me the biggest fool in the world.

Panicking at my thoughts, I unfold my legs and plant my feet firmly on the ground to put some distance between us.

“Listen, I don’t know what—”

Jaxon moves toward me like a predator cornering its prey.

I should back away. I don’t.

His masculine scent surrounds me a second before his lips capture mine, stealing my breath along with my common sense.

Jaxon groans against my mouth, his hands sliding to cup my face, thumbs stroking my jawline.

His tongue teases, tempts, tortures, and I hold out for half a second before I break.

God help me, I break.

A deep, satisfied sound rumbles from his chest as he tilts his head, taking the kiss deeper, hotter, more consuming.

My pulse is a pounding drumbeat, matching the rhythm of his deliberate assault on my senses.

My hands, which had been pressed against his chest in initial resistance, now slide upward to circle his neck.

His hands trail from my shoulders down the sides of my arms, then back up to trace the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, before finally moving to the sides of my breasts.

I gasp into his mouth when his thumbs find my hardening nipples, the sensation sending electric currents straight through me. He deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth with hunger.

This is a mistake. A colossal, life-ruining mistake.

But my body doesn’t give a damn about logic.

My fingers tighten in his hair instead of pushing him away. My hips lift, chasing friction instead of distance.

I don’t want this. I can’t want this.

But I do. And that terrifies me more than anything.

Jaxon shifts, pushing me back against the armrest of the sofa, his body covering mine. His weight feels right and the heat of him feels like home.

My legs part of their own accord, allowing him to settle between them. I can’t stop a moan from escaping my lips when I feel his erection.

My hips lift to meet his, seeking more contact, more friction. His hands slide under my shirt, tracing my stomach, my ribs, before finally cupping my breasts.

I arch into his touch, my breath hitching as his fingers roll my nipples gently. He breaks the kiss, his mouth moving to my neck, my collarbone, my ear, each touch stroking the tendrils within me.

“Jaxon,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. I don’t even recognize it.

His lips don’t stop the torturous path over my skin, but something feels off. I open my eyes.

“What happened to the lights?”

The room has fallen into darkness, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the setting sun through the windows.

Sliding from under him, I drag in a shaky breath to calm my aroused body. The sudden loss of light is jarring, but not as much as the way my body still aches for him.

I need distance. More than light.

I shove away from the couch, needing the distance to clear my head as much as to check the power. Because if I stay any closer, I might make another mistake.

Moving across the room, I flick the light switch several times. Nothing happens. I try another switch, then another.

“Power’s out throughout the town, JJ,” Jaxon says, completely at ease, like he owns the damn storm, too.

Nothing fazes him. Nothing unsettles him.

“The snow has gotten worse. Come have a look.”

I walk over and stand beside him, carefully maintaining a few inches of space between us. Through the window, I can see nothing but swirling white, the streetlights unlit.

I groan. “I hate wintery weather.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I was about to ask you to build a snowman,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

Despite myself, I smile back, and Jaxon pauses. He studies my face for a long moment, clearly caught off guard by my unexpected warmth.

Then he moves toward me with a smooth, purposeful grace, making my heart race. I back up until I hit the wall, trapped between the cold plaster and his warm body.

“What happened on the couch doesn’t mean I want to stay married to you,” I say, my voice more breathless than I’d like.

I cross my arms over my chest, hating how my nipples still tingle from his touch and how my lips still yearned for his kisses.

“As soon as the roads clear, we’re going to find a lawyer and get this annulled.”

“You shouldn’t do that,” he murmurs.

“Do what?”

His gaze drops to my lips. “Smile at me like that.”

I swallow hard. “It wasn’t for you.”

One second, I’m standing stiffly, forcing space between us, the next, his fingers are in my hair, tilting my face up as his lips crash into mine.

I gasp into his mouth, but he doesn’t ease up. He deepens the kiss instantly, his tongue sliding against mine with a dominance threatening to buckle my knees.

I brace my hands against his chest, meaning to push him away. I don’t. Instead, my fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater, holding onto him like I need him to keep me upright.

Damn him.

Damn me.

I hate how effortlessly he unravels me. How he takes control and my body... follows.

He growls against my lips, his hands sliding down my back, molding me to him. The friction sends a dangerous pulse of pleasure through me as his fingers grip my hips, guiding me exactly where he wants me.

I moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Jaxon takes advantage of my surrender, angling his head to kiss me deeper.

“Still want an annulment?” he murmurs against my lips.

Yes.

No.

I don’t know anymore.

I open my mouth, but it’s not an answer that comes out. It’s another gasp as he trails open-mouthed kisses down my throat, grazing his teeth over my skin.

“Deny it all you want, but your body tells the truth.”

I shove at his chest, ignoring how solid and warm he feels beneath my palms. “Enough.”

He exhales slowly, his forehead dropping to mine. His hands remain firm on my hips, not caging me, but not letting me go, either.

“You’re scared,” he says softly.

I scoff, even though my pulse is still racing. “Of what? You?”

His lips brush against my jaw, a barely there touch that makes me shiver.

“Of wanting me.”

My breath catches.

He pulls back just enough for his dark eyes to meet mine. My stomach flips at their intensity.

“You can fight this all you want, JJ,” he murmurs. “Push me away. Keep telling yourself you don’t want to explore this.”

He lifts a hand, brushing his thumb across my swollen bottom lip, and my stomach clenches at the raw possession in his gaze.

“I’ve waited this long. I can be patient.”

I step back, trying to ignore how my body responds to his touch, how his voice resonates beneath my skin. “Jaxon, this isn’t—”

My phone rings, slicing through the tension. I reach for it with grateful relief, moving away from him to answer.

“Hey, Jas,” I answer, relieved to hear my friend’s voice, a welcome anchor to reality after the surreal quality of the last few minutes with Jaxon.

“Jessa! Are you okay? The power’s out all over town,” Jasmine sounds worried.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, conscious of Jaxon’s presence beside me. “I have candles, batteries, food and I’m not alone. Jaxon’s here.” My eyes flick briefly to him before moving away.

“Jaxon? Why?” Her voice rises with each question.

“He stopped by to... discuss something.”

“Oh! I thought you two had finally decided to stop pretending to not be attracted to each other and do the nasty.”

I catch movement from the corner of my eye and turn to see Jaxon pointing to the door, mouthing “car”. I nod, returning to my conversation with Jasmine as he slips out.

“Girl, there’s no attraction and he’ll be on his way soon.”

We chat for a few more minutes before hanging up. I look around my suddenly dark apartment. No power meant no heat, no TV and no way to finish prepping for the most important interview of my career.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Moving around the apartment, I light candles I keep for emergencies and the occasional bath. Shadows elongate and dance across the walls as I work, the scent of vanilla filling the air.

I hear the door open and look up to see Jaxon. His expression is grim in the flickering candlelight.

“When will your tow be here?”

“Tomorrow.” He raises his right hand, revealing a gym bag. “You’re stuck with me for tonight.”

I grip the back of a chair, steadying myself against the influx of bad decisions waiting to happen. My brain scrambles for a response that isn’t ‘God help me.’

I watch him move about my space with confidence, and gradually, my breathing steadies. We’re adults. We can handle one night of proximity without the world ending.

It’s just one night. With Jaxon. In my apartment. During a power outage.

...I am so screwed.

“I could try walking back to my condo,” he says.

“You can’t possibly!” The words rush out before I can stop them. “You’ll freeze to death for sure.”

“It’s comforting to know you care about my welfare.”

“I prefer to not become a widow before I get a chance to end this marriage.”

“So, you’re acknowledging you’re my wife?” His voice holds a note of triumph.

“Sure, tell yourself whatever you need to,” I retort.

I can’t bring myself to deny it outright. The legal reality is undeniable, even if I plan to change it as soon as possible.

“Where’s your washroom?”

“It’s right down the hallway on your left,” I say, turning away to adjust a perfectly placed candle, needing something to do with my hands.

As his footsteps retreat down the hall, I let out a long, shaky breath. What have I gotten myself into? And more importantly, how am I going to get through this night without making another mistake I’ll regret in the morning?

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