Page 37 of The Never List (Never List #1)

Rylee

Wind roars around me, so intense my hair flutters across my face. A few of the gamblers groan about the sudden gust of air, but I tame my hair before anyone can notice.

Jax would rather be here, watching this woman shake her ass, than welcome me into his city for his designated month? Would rather be here than trying to get to know who he chose , the one person who might be able to solidify his power and his spot on the throne?

Regret and shame and doubt flood my senses, killing any rage and power desperate to break out of me.

I slip behind a pillar, taking a few moments to collect myself before I continue to watch. Call me a glutton for punishment, I guess, because goddess damn , it hurts. But, after a few minutes and some serious deep breaths, I watch as he moves to write something on a piece of parchment as he looks at her in a cold, assessing way.

He’s working.

Another pit opens up in my stomach. I’m not sure if this is any better than when I thought he was here paying for entertainment from a woman who isn’t me.

Either way, he’s not with me.

It’s his month, and he’d rather work than see me.

Is that how this entire month is going to play out? Him ignoring me? Does he think that will inspire me to want to risk my life for him by completing the Athanry? Because from where I’m standing, he’s not giving me much to go on in the way of faith.

I take another deep breath.

I came here for a reason, and I’m not going to let this uncertainty stop me.

Steeling my nerves, I dig deep to find that confident woman I was when I first walked into Lust. I straighten and resolve myself on the fact that if I want Jax to be mine—really, truly mine—then I certainly can’t cower behind a pillar and hide all night. He’s the Nightmare, for goddesses’ sake. I need to match that energy, and more than that, I want to.

I channel all the confidence I can before I press my hand against the glass door and push it open. Sultry music floods my senses right along with Jax’s leather-and-smoke smell. Goddess, his indigo eyes dart to mine with the barest hint of shock before he slams a wall over his reactions.

That makes two of us, because I’m focusing on feeling confident and sexy as fuck, ensuring I bury any insecure emotions so he can’t sense them.

The woman arches a brow at me. “Did you want to see me with another woman?” she asks Jax, calm and professional.

His thighs flex as he shifts in his seat, eyes darting between the woman on the mini platform in the center of the room and me. There is a hint of excitement in his gaze that makes butterflies take flight in my stomach.

“No.” He shakes his head before motioning to me. “I’m sure my potential mate here just needs a word with me.”

The woman gasps, immediately hopping off the platform and bowing to me. I feel awkward in my own skin but try to nod politely at her.

Jax’s sardonic laugh fills the room, and the woman visibly blanches at the sound. I take in her genuine terror at the laugh that makes me slick between my thighs. Curious. Maybe I’m as broken as he is, but I don’t fucking care. I’m done fighting it.

“I’ve seen enough,” he continues, the tone of his voice drenched in annoyance, as if my showing up has thoroughly ruined his plans for the evening.

The thought makes a lump form in my throat.

Maybe this was a stupid idea.

The woman bends even lower at the waist toward him before hurrying out of the room.

The music is still playing, but it’s not as loud as it was on the main level. This room isn’t only for dancing and drinking but watching, talking, bonding.

Jax hasn’t moved an inch, still sitting in that confident pose, the parchment forgotten as his arms stretch along the back of the cushioned seat, his thighs spread wide. Every instinct in my body is begging me to step between his legs and drop to my knees before him. I’m at his mercy, and he isn’t giving me an inch.

“Are you here for a job, little liar?” he asks, his tone low and raw. Goddess, his voice crackles over my skin like lightning, jerking my entire body awake.

“If that’s what it takes to get your attention,” I say, cocking an eyebrow at him before I spin around and hop onto the stage in a fluid movement that makes me want to celebrate. Or, rather, thank my sister for helping me with core balance and strength training in our spare time. She always said those were the keys to her being able to get in and out of a room unnoticed, but right now, I want him to watch me.

I only allow myself a second of self-doubt as I wrap my fingers around the pole and start to move. I watched the other women enough to get the gist of it, but outside of dancing with Ivy and Layce on the rare occasions we snuck into a club, I have zero experience in this department.

“You know, I get how much you hate liars,” I say while I move, forcing myself to maintain the courage I’m clinging to. “But have you ever stopped to think there might be a good reason behind it?”

Jax grunts by way of response.

“Of course not,” I say, swaying my hips. “Easier to just believe the worst about people, right?”

Indigo eyes zero in on me, and the music magically filtering into the room switches to a new song. Nothing is ever easy with him, and I suppose if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t want him any other way. I rock to the pulsing beat, losing myself to the sensations of the melody rippling over my skin while I use the pole to leverage my body, grinding against it the same way I would his body if he let me in.

It helps that Jax doesn’t take his eyes off me, not for one second. I feel them on my skin like a caress, and before long, the music doesn’t really matter; I’m dancing and gliding my hands over my body in teasing touches that I desperately wish were his.

Soon, I’m so wound tight from him watching me that I feel like I might burst if he doesn’t say something. I can see desire churning in those dark eyes, but he barely gives anything else away, sitting there in the power spot like he is.

Well, fuck that.

I hop down, dancing my way over to him, but I don’t dare touch him. I’m not one of the Legend groupies desperate for attention and a great story. I’m his mate potential, and I mean his , since he’s the one who started this whole beautiful mess in the first place.

His eyes slide over my body with each roll of my hips, each arch of my back or trail of my fingers over my breasts. The tension tightens between us so much I ache.

“What do you think?” I finally ask when the song ends and another one doesn’t immediately replace it. Instead, we’re plunged in a thick, weighted silence beyond that of my rushed breaths. “Do I get the job?”

Jax wets his lips, flicking a finger toward me. “What is it you think you’re doing here?”

Taken aback, I blink at him a few times. “It’s your turn,” I say, my confidence slipping a rung on the ladder inside me. “You weren’t home. Figured I’d come to you.”

“Home,” he repeats, dragging out the word. “Do you already consider my space yours?”

“I…”

Mortification steals my words, my soul threatening to crumple in on itself.

Jax’s smile is sharp, and I can’t lie. It stings . I’ve seen him give out a dozen or more of these smiles to anyone and everyone. It’s the one that’s meant to scare people away, keep them guessing, keep them running.

My heart thumps rapidly against my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as he holds me in a staring competition that has every single one of my muscles clenching. Anger blazes over my embarrassment. Goddess damn him, he’s a stubborn prick.

“Ohh,” he groans, shaking his hands. “What a nice bite of anger, butterfly.” He draws in a sharp breath like he’s taking a hit off the emotions storming me. “Delicious,” he says, and I fucking tremble at the way he says the word.

He’s toying with me, testing me, or trying to shove me away. I’m not sure, and I don’t care. I can play this game all night. Crossing lines is what he wants? Then here the fuck we go.

I lean down, gliding my hands up his thighs and bringing our faces within inches of each other. The only emotion he shows is the slight bob of his throat while I’m sure he can feel every single one of mine—my skittering pulse at the power of his muscles beneath my hands, the intake of my breath as his scent storms my senses, the way that connection between us straightens up and aches from being this close to him.

“If you want me to leave, Jax,” I whisper, my mouth a breath away from his, “just give the order.”

His lips draw back, almost like he’s baring his teeth at me, at my nearness. Like some predator that’s met his match, and he’s scrambling to try and figure out how to fight me off.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t flinch at my touch, doesn’t push me away, and I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of one of his blades. One wrong move and I’m done.

“Rylee,” he whispers, nothing but cold, hard warning in his eyes. “I’m not like my friends,” he says. “You should run while you still can.”

I do the exact opposite, throwing one leg on either side of his hips, splaying my hands over his chest. “I’m not running.”

He groans, his hands flexing on my waist. I can’t tell if he’s holding me there or preparing to throw me off, and the rush of the unknown spikes in my blood. His eyes flare a little as he registers the thrill in me.

“I’m not running,” I say with more determination this time, remembering Pierce’s words about Jax’s fears, about why he is the way he is. He needs to know I’m here no matter what. “You chose me, Jax,” I say, some of the pain coming through in my words. “You can say you hate me all you want, but I don’t buy it. Stop trying to push me away. Unless you really regret your decision…then I’ll walk out that door right now.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. I can see it there—the truth written all over his features for once. He wants to tell me to go. He wants to tell me I’m the worst mistake of his life. I know this right down to my bones, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, that battle plays out in his eyes as his fingers bite into my hips.

“Jax, please,” I say, shuddering atop him. “I’m done fighting this. Don’t push me away.”

A low growl rumbles his chest as I rock against him, a pure searing heat spearing through me at what I feel beneath me. Goddess, he’s hard as fucking granite pressed against me. He wants me, too.

That feels like a win in itself.

“I’m not like my friends,” he says again through clenched teeth, gripping my hips and jerking me forward again, scraping my heat right over his hard length. “I’m not trying to win your heart.” He growls the words.

My head spins with the sensations, the leather shorts shifting enough that only the thin netting and his slacks separate us.

“I want to ruin it,” he continues, eyes burning. “I want to ruin you .”

I wrap my fingers behind his neck, a stuttered sigh rasping out of me as he moves me over him. I can’t form words, can’t think outside of this long-awaited contact.

“I want to punish you for lying. I want to cut the truth out of you. I want to fuck you so hard and so long, you won’t be able to think about anyone outside the Legends,” he says. “I want to take turns with them, lighting you up in ways you’ve never even dared to imagine.”

His words send bolts of pleasure down my body, but then his hands lock up, stopping me from moving against him again.

“Don’t you get it?” he asks, a desperate edge to his tone. “Don’t you see why I can’t give in to you?”

“Because I’m a liar?” I shake my head because no , I really don’t fucking get it. Not when his words contradict everything he’s shown up until now.

He reaches up with one hand, tangling it in my long hair and arching my head back so sharply it almost stings. “You think I chose you because I wanted to?” He shakes his head, that laugh sliding like warm whiskey over my bare skin. “I had to choose you. I needed to choose you. There was no stopping it. And the second the words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d damned us.”

I whimper slightly, unable to lock down the hurt that causes.

His grip tightens in my hair. “Not because of what you’re hiding from me, butterfly,” he chides, and my eyes flare. “But because what I’ll do for you if you’re really mine.”

I blink back the emotions storming me so fast and so intensely, I can hardly breathe around them.

“I’m the Nightmare, Rylee,” he says. “The son of the vilest bastard who’s ever lived. I’m not good like the other Legends.”

“I don’t believe that,” I argue.

Jax groans, shaking his head. “You’re not afraid,” he says, almost like a warning.

I draw as close to him as I can in his grasp. “Never,” I say.

His eyes are searing as they meet mine. “You should be.”

“I’m not.”

He studies me, his eyes going cold. “Then you’re foolish,” he snaps, jerking his head toward the door. “Get out.”

“What?” The question is a surprised whisper.

He stands up, plopping me on my feet and putting two strides’ worth of distance between us. “You heard me,” he says. “Fly away, butterfly.”

“You’re not serious,” I say, my heart racing. I felt it… I’d been so close… He’d been so close—

“Don’t make me ask again.”

I gape at the iciness to his words, but I quickly shut my mouth as I glare at him. “How ironic,” I say, shaking my head. “That the Nightmare turns out to be a fucking coward.”

I spin around, tears welling in my eyes as I hurry out of the room.

Away from him.

Away from his inability to see what’s right in front of him.

Away from any hope of ever getting him to believe me.