Page 45 of Not Her Day to Die (Star-Crossed #2)

I t is past midnight by the time Axel returns home. He rode halfway across town and back before finally settling his mind enough.

Even with Sterling locked up—Maxwell and Mark dead —he still doesn’t want to be too far from Sunday.

Memories of his dick sinking into her spur him on. Leaving his motorcycle in the driveway, he lets himself inside before making his way up the stairs two at a time. He goes to her room first but growls in frustration when she isn’t there.

Checking her bathroom next, he glances and sees the condom wrapper in the trash.

Darius.

A mixture of jealousy and satisfaction cycle internally.

Axel accepts that Sunday will never just be his, and he has pushed his other two brothers towards her as best he can. They need her just as much as she needs them. But sometimes when he least expects it, his animosity will flare up. It isn’t even directed at his brothers, just at himself.

I have never been enough.

He stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. At the jut of his nose, the angle of his jaw, the color of his eyes. The similarities between Tripp and himself are undeniable and sometimes alone like this the demons will fester .

Remind him that he is just the shadow of a better man. A disgusting replica. A heartless monster.

His brother’s replacement.

I miss you Tripp. You deserve to be here.

Even after the equivalent of years, the pain of his twin’s death had not dissipated in the least, he had simply shifted his concerns to Sunday. Put his energy into keeping her alive.

But now that they were out of the loops…

With nothing else to focus on…

“Axel?” Sunday’s voice is gentle, her footsteps nearly silent as she pads into the bathroom.

Her eyes catch his in the mirror.

Whatever she sees causes her to step behind him, to wrap her arms around him. Her heart beats softly against his back.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, snuggling into him.

“No,” Axel admits. “But I’m better now.” He turns in her arms, allows her warmth to soak into him. Allows her to mend him.

She has always healed him, in every loop. He was a broken angry man before he found her. Pissed off at the world, hateful towards Tripp and Auggie, mad at himself.

Destined to repeat a generational curse, destined to exist in a broken system, destined to find the worst path and dive towards it. But then he set his eyes on her. He saw everything Tripp mentioned in the letters.

And then he got to know her. The stubborn, strong-willed, but idiotic girl that she is. He wanted on more than one occasion to shake her. To demand she follow and listen to him. But he knew better.

Sunday Masch is a force to be reckoned with .

Axel smiles as he rests his chin on the top of her head. Her unruly curls offer a cushion. Her floral scent suffuses into the air and invades him as she tightens her arms around him, burrowing into his chest.

He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that. Just as he knows he will never let her go.

“Axel?” Sunday murmurs into him.

“Will you come on a ride with me?” The question springs on its own.

“Okay,” she agrees without hesitation.

He doesn’t wait for her to change her mind.

Untangling from Sunday, he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her out of the bathroom, towards the stairs.

“We should let Darius–”

Axel doesn’t let her finish, she’s moving too slow and suddenly he feels the need to hurry. He pauses only to lift her off her feet and throw her over his shoulder. “I have my phone, I’ll text him.”

“Axel!” Sunday exclaims startled. Her small fists find his back, but he barely feels them as he quickly makes his way down the stairs and back to his motorcycle.

He is still in his full gear; she’s not, but he will drive carefully.

Sunday will never be hurt on my account.

Placing her onto the pavement, she stares up at him heaving and huffing.

A street light, a sliver of moon, and stars are the only sources of light as he takes her in.

She’s in a thin shirt and shorts, her nipples poking out of the material, her hair a wild mess, her eyes bright, her cheeks flush as she pants in and out.

Even in October, it is still hot here and he can already feel the sweat forming in his jacket.

“Axel! ”

He doesn’t give her too much time to argue. Lifting the helmet off his bike he places it over her, clipping it into place.

He throws a leg over the bike, twisting around to help her on.

“Hold on tight,” he tells her.

She does as commanded, her small hands burying into his leather jacket, the helmet pressing into him from behind.

Once he is satisfied, he takes off. When this began, he didn’t have a place in mind, but now he does.

He drives towards their restaurant, and then goes a bit further down a trail that leads to a private section of river. Trees surround them on all sides, and it’s nothing but darkness in their depths. Crickets chirp and frogs croak loudly as they continue on towards their destination.

It’s where he used to go when he needed a break from his brothers. He had never taken anyone else out here.

Until now.

Sunday’s hold tightens on him as they make their way along the unpaved road and slow to a crawl.

Out here the only light is from his motorcycle, the moon, and the stars.

I want more than anything for the stars to just disappear.

In some ways they remind him of Sunday, but in others they are a constant reminder of the suffering they were all forced to endure.

The woods thin and then they come to an open area. He brings them to a stop.

“Did you drag me out here to kill me?” Sunday grumbles, shivering against his back.

“I wouldn’t have gone through all this,” Axel snarks, getting off the bike before helping her .

On two feet, she wrenches the helmet off herself, her eyes flickering around. They land on the river only ten feet away, the moon reflecting in the water.

“It’s pretty out here, in an eerie and creepy kind of way.”

Axel laughs.

“It’s not funny!” Sunday turns to him. “I was half asleep, I heard a noise, and when I followed it, you were just standing in my bathroom all scary and sad-like. And then you dragged me out of the house in my pajamas to a wooded area, near a river, in Florida . Which, mind you, might have alligators in it! Or even crocodiles because those have taken hold here, too. And all of that after the fact that you up and disappeared along with Grayson after Darius and I told you what happened.” Sunday isn’t screaming, but the words are heated laced in anger and irritation.

Axel cocks his head as he watches her displeasure take hold, listens as her indignation raises her voice a few octaves, smells the air as her floral scent intertwines with the trees and water surrounding them. Not nearly salty but just on the cusp.

Sunday is still laying into him, but his mind has shifted. He lunges forward taking her cheeks in his hands, covering her lips with his thumbs.

“Do I remind you of Tripp? Am I his replacement?” The questions come from a very deep dark place inside of Axel. Each timeline, he had pushed them further and further down. Forced them to remain buried.

But out here? In his most sacred spot? Where he would scream his anger out into the world?

They come out easily.

Sunday’s face slackens, her mouth opens causing his thumbs to shift across her soft lips. Her eyebrows furrow before her gaze meets his.

The next words she speaks are even. Level. “I loved Tripp with all of my heart. All of it,” Sunday whispers hoarsely .

Axel’s own heart has crawled its way into his throat as he waits for her to tell him the truth, that he will never compare.

Sunday raises up her fingers, finding his face, they trace along his jaw. “But he is nothing like you. I love you, Axel. Every single psychotic, chaotic, impulsive part.”

Axel moves his hands from her face to her waist, and then he is crashing his lips to hers fervidly. The insecurities that he had kept at bay for as long as he could, dissolved in a matter of seconds.

That was the magic of Sunday. She held his heart and soul in the palm of her hands.

She was his literal lifeline.

His fingertips brush inside of her shirt as he grips her tightly, lifts her onto the back of his bike. Sunday’s lips move against his, as if they are challenging him, as if they are accepting him, as if they are made for him.

Her hands drift from his jaw to his pants and then she is unbuttoning them, attempting to shove them down.

“Sunday,” he warns, releasing her lips.

Her face is cast in shadows, but her piercing eyes hold his.

“Axel,” she dares him.

“Fuck!” His moves become more frantic. He raises her off the bike one-handedly to remove her shorts. Leaving her exposed, her bare pink cunt on full display.

He reaches behind her, to the storage on the bike and pulls out a condom.

She chuckles. “You literally left those everywhere,” she says in explanation.

Axel narrows his eyes at her as he kicks off his pants, as he frees his cock from his boxers, as he puts the condom on the tip.

“Put it on for me,” he demands .

Her attention is focused on his cock as her hand moves cautiously forward.

The first time he had her, he was in no rush. But right now? He is aching for her. To re-establish their connection, to put all of his worries to rest, to stamp himself deep and firmly into Sunday.

She pauses with her hand touching the condom, her eyes flash to his. “I had sex with Darius earlier today.”

“I know.” Axel flares his nostrils.

“And again, downstairs on the couch.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make up for lost time.” He thrusts forward into her hand, the condom sliding into place. “Good job, Little Lamb.”

She bristles at the nickname, just as she always does. But that is exactly what she is, what she will always be.

He positions between her legs, his hands making their way back to her waist. He isn’t sure if the bike will be sturdy enough for this, but he’s going to try.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for being the bait.” And he hasn’t.

Sunday glares at him. “Everyone is safe and unscathed. You can’t possibly still be upset.”

He lines himself up, and thrusts hard and fast into her. “I can.”

Sunday lets out a startled moan.

She is warm. Wet. Tight. Constricting.

She strangles his cock, a vice, and his balls tighten as the pleasure nearly engulfs him. One of his hands moves to her neck, his other remaining on her waist. And then he rocks into her, the bike attempting to fall out from under them as he continues.

“Axel!” She reaches between them, rubbing her own clit .

Axel is both annoyed and satisfied to watch her find her own gratification around him. This began with an interest to punish her, but it quickly shifted to a desperate need to drown himself in her.

He is frenetic as he continues to pour his anger into her. And she takes it, thrusting back into him as best she can.

They are two polarizing forces doing all they can to come together, and it isn’t long before the bike falls out from below them.

It is only Axel’s hold on Sunday that keeps her from going with it.

Still buried inside her, he carries her to a patch of grass before dropping them down to it.

Her hair spreads out below her, a bright scarlet halo.

Her shirt is a nuisance that he pulls up to show off her unblemished breasts.

“Axel,” Sunday begs him.

He knows what she wants, and he bends down to take one of them into his mouth, sucking and biting and swirling his tongue. Sunday attempts to ride him from the bottom, lifting her hips up and down as he remains still, focusing on her breasts.

He growls against the one in his mouth as her hand buries in his hair.

“Just like that,” she says as she continues to rock up on him.

And Axel allows it. Allows the little spitfire to use his body to her liking. He reaches between them, blindly finding her clit, he plays with it.

She tightens around him, moaning as her movements become more frenzied and hectic. And then she reaches with both hands, tugging him and his cock as far inside her as he can. Deeper than he had been before.

And then she is screaming and pulsating around him. Her nails digging into him, her breasts arching up further. He releases the one in his mouth and begins to pound into her. Forcing her to ride the wave as long as he can, until static and fire fight their way down his spine.

And then he follows her off the precipice .

Panting breathlessly, he finds her eyes, cups her cheek. “I love you, Sunday.”

“I love you too,” she says.

And Axel believes it.

That is where they remain for several hours, until his phone rings with a livid Darius on the other line.

They ride back on the motorcycle just before the sun rises.

Axel is the lightest he has ever felt, but even so, there is still an uneasiness in his gut.

That something…isn’t…right…