Page 25

I feel him in the room before I hear his voice, as if a part of me is drawn to him even in my sleep.

When I open my eyes, he’s sitting in the chair he’s dragged over to the window, lost in thought as he stares at the sparkling city lights below.

I pull off the covers and shiver as the cold air caresses my skin.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I ask quietly as I make my way over to him, my hand dragging lightly across his shoulders before resting on his cheek.

I feel the butterflies in my stomach as his eyes meet mine, eyes that I’ll never get used to looking at me with such desire behind them.

“Come sit, love,” he says thickly.

I do what he asks, draping my legs over him so I’m straddling him, flush against his body, heat radiating between us where our thighs meet, and a familiar sensation gathering between my legs where our clothes touch.

His lips meet mine, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him against my mouth, the warmth of his body and my desire flooding through me.

“Ryan told me about your conversation earlier,” he muses quietly.

My desire evaporates quickly as my hands turn clammy and my heart starts to race. I wait for him to let me know what he thinks about everything I confessed to Ryan just hours ago.

“All in or all out, love, remember? You can talk to me about these things, about anything.” He pushes a strand of hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. “Nothing will change the way I feel about you, nothing can take you off the pedestal I’ve put you on, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t think I really knew how to put it into words until I started talking to Ryan.” My voice is quiet as I try to process everything I want to tell Jax, unsure of where to start. I take a breath. “I wouldn’t have told Ryan if he hadn’t caught me taking the knife.”

His fingers are gentle against my cheek as he brushes a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re so good at pretending you’re fine, so good at putting on a mask, that I worry about what’s actually going on beneath the surface, in here.” He places his hand on my heart. “I worry that you’re drowning on the inside, screaming for help where no one can hear you, so focused on fighting this battle by yourself that you forget you have me by your side. All in or all out. There’s nothing you can do or say that will push me away. Wherever you go I’ll follow you, and if that path drags you straight to hell, then the devil better be ready for me.”

I bring my lips back to him, feeling underserving of his unwavering devotion. I pull away slowly, savoring the taste of his lips on mine as I gather my thoughts.

“I wanted to tell you. I thought about telling you. I didn’t choose to tell him instead of you, is what I’m trying to say.” I take a breath, trying to find the words I’m looking for. “I know doing this sounds stupid and is one hundred types of fucked up, but it just makes sense to me… God this sounds idiotic. Maybe I should’ve had Ryan commit me to a psych ward.” I give a feeble laugh, as I try to lighten the mood, the tension within me uncomfortable to navigate.

Jax keeps looking at me, his eyes burning for me, the love I see in those flames never wavering as I stumble over my words, confessing one of the hardest things I’ve been holding onto. It feels surreal being able to talk about something so dark and see nothing but acceptance and adoration in his eyes.

“I don’t know why I started doing this, why I want to keep doing it, but it feels right, you know?”

“I do know,” he says as he guides my hand to his chest.

My fingers travel over his skin, some of the scars visible and raised, the others hidden under the cover of dark tattoos.

“Not all of these scars are courtesy of other people,” he whispers.

I can’t help the shock as it crosses my face, his hands now guide me to his arms, and my fingers explore skin that is so familiar to me yet suddenly has a new meaning to it. My hand moves over tattoos that I know by heart, scars I have rested my head upon for countless nights, and suddenly I find myself seeing Jax in a new light.

“How did you stop?” I ask quietly.

“It was a long time ago, but I found other ways to process the pain I was feeling.”

“Such as?”

“Boxing. Fighting. Turning my pain and anger into something else, something tangible and…”

“Socially acceptable?”

“Exactly.”

“Since I’m not exactly going to be stepping into a boxing ring, and I doubt starting fights is really my thing, I don’t really know what to do.” I take a breath as Jax continues to listen to me. “I want to paint, I want to get back into the things I love, but everything seems so… pointless now. Pointless and as if it’s no longer enough to stop the hurt, to make sense of what I’m feeling. It all just seems so…”

“Meaningless?”

“Exactly,” I say, and relief washes over me at his understanding. “I didn’t intend to do this. I didn’t start scratching at my skin wanting to hurt myself or wanting to escalate it into anything further, but it just feels like it works. Like the second I feel that pain, the second my nail digs into my skin and I see red, everything that’s building within me, everything that hurts so much to hold onto is transformed into something easier to digest, something more palatable.”

He nods, and I see nothing but unfiltered understanding on his face.

“I’m not saying there’s a right or a wrong way to go about your healing journey—it’s your experience, not mine. But if you want to hurt, if that’s what makes processing this easier for you, then at least let me help you.”

I look up at him, and my heart beats quickly in my chest as nervousness and curiosity mingle together.

“Help me how?” I ask tentatively.

“In whatever way you need,” he says, his eyes darkening with desire and something more. “You need someone to talk to? I’m here. You need someone to lick your wounds for you? My tongue is yours to command. You need anything else…” He trails off as he reaches over to the windowsill, his chest pressing into me as he leans forward, and it’s then that I notice the kitchen knife Ryan took from me earlier.

“Jax…” I start tentatively.

“You want me to be here for you while you cut yourself? I’ll never leave your side. Want me to do it? Then just tell me where and I’ll do it for you. But,” he pauses as his eyes trail my body before finding my gaze again, “if you want to spend the night feeling a different type of pain, then I’ll keep you awake feeling all sorts of things until the sun comes up.”

“Why do you want to do this for me? To deal with me like this?” I ask, confusion coating my words as I look between him and the knife, as suspicion, and something else, something warmer, mixes within me as a result of his words.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he says simply, “so if there’s a way I can take that burden off your shoulders, to mix the pain you want to feel to remind yourself you’re alive, to release everything going on inside of you, with pleasure… a way to distract you from the darkness that you feel you’re sinking into, then I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I think for a moment as I stay seated on his lap, and I find nothing but truth behind his eyes as one of his hands holds the knife while the other caresses my back.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats back.

I lean into him, my lips brushing against his ear.

“I trust you.”

He shifts forward, bringing his lips to mine. “Good, now get on the bed.”

He nips at me, his teeth catching on my ear lobe and sending a jolt of electricity through me.

I do as he says, walking towards the bed and sitting with my back against the headboard.

Jax stalks towards me, and the look in his eyes makes me blush.

He sets the knife down before grabbing onto my ankles gently, pulling me towards him so I’m lying on my back.

“That’s better,” his voice drips with desire as he looks me up and down.

Seconds later he has my clothes off, and I’m laying on the bed naked like a meal set out before him.

“You are beautiful,” he growls as he kisses his way down me. My body comes alight under his mouth, and as his lips travel at an excruciatingly slow pace as I arch my back, pressing myself into him.

I feel his tongue travel over my curves as his fingers gently press into my soft skin. I flinch suddenly as sharp teeth drag across my skin.

We stay like this for a while, his tongue, lips, and teeth worshipping my body with pleasure and pain. I can’t help but close my eyes as the two sensations collide, letting out a needy moan in response to his touch.

His mouth leaves my skin for a moment as he shifts himself lower on the bed, before lifting one of my ankles towards him.

Suddenly my eyes dart open as something colder, sharper, presses against the skin on the inside of my leg, and I see Jax kneeling on the bed, knife in hand, trailing it delicately against me.

My breathing hitches as I take in the scene before me, and there’s something erotic about seeing him kneeling there, his rippled muscles, tattooed body, and blazing eyes alight with desire as he trails the knife across me, so gently that it’s barely making contact with my skin.

And there’s something clearly wrong with me for finding this so hot.

My heart is beating quickly—from excitement or fear, I’m not sure.

“Remember, love, if you want me to stop, just say stop.”

“Okay,” I say through ragged breaths.

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I feel the sting of the blade cutting into my skin.

Fuck.

Before I can truly register the pain, which is really no more than a papercut, and before any blood can pool on my skin, Jax’s lips are on the cut and his tongue is gliding across the small slice in my body. I’m immediately brought right back to him, to the mix of pain, pleasure, and adrenaline that only he can provide.

The knife bites into me again, this time just above my ankle, and I can feel the heat from the pain wash over me, this spot more sensitive than the last. I close my eyes as I breathe through the sensation, and once again it’s only a second before Jax’s tongue is gliding against it.

“Eyes on me, love,” he growls.

I feel him moving himself on top of me, and when I open my eyes I’m face to face with him, the weight of his body pressing into me as his eyes blaze into my own.

“If you close your eyes, I stop. You can’t hide from this, from me.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on his, as he takes one of my hands in his, pinning it beside my head so my wrist is exposed to him.

He looks between me and my arm before pressing his lips to mine.

“Hold still.”

I do as he says as he repositions himself, the tip of his knife digging into my wrist ever so slightly. Blood pools to the surface despite how shallow the cut is, and the bright red is a stark contrast against my ivory skin.

There’s something different about him doing this to me, and an unfamiliar wooziness threatens to sweep me away.

“There.”

It’s all he says before tossing the knife to the floor and bringing his lips to my wrist, gently kissing where the bite of the knife was only moments before.

He brings his lips back to mine, and a coppery taste floods my senses before he pulls back from me ever so slightly, “how do you feel?”

“I feel…” How do I feel? “I feel surprisingly good,” I say honestly.

He smiles at me as he presses a kiss to my forehead. “Did you notice anything different in the moment?”

I pause for a second, mulling his words over in my head, trying to think of everything that I’m feeling, of everything that I’m thinking, and it takes a moment for it to dawn on me that for the first time in a long time my brain was blissfully silent, only focusing on Jax and where the knife was trailing over my body. My senses were so heightened, the adrenaline, lust, and hint of apprehension so strong, that I remained focused solely on what he was doing, and nothing else.

“My mind went quiet… I couldn’t think about anything else—only you and the knife.”

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Now, take a look.”

I bring my wrist in front of my face, and I’m lost for words. The outline of a small heart now rests on the inner corner of my wrist.

“I want you to remember how loved you are,” he says quietly. “Every time you hurt yourself, every time you think life is becoming too much, I want you to look down and remember how much I love you, and how there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” I say quietly, bringing my lips back to his, closing my eyes as the emotion I’m feeling threatens to overwhelm me.