Broken Soul (Jackson Family 3)

inessa

Shopping with Emmalinewas definitely a new experience, and one I certainly wasn’t used to.

She commanded the attention of basically every associate of each store we went into, and she didn’t shop at cheaper stores like I’d been hoping she would. Instead, she went to high-end, expensive stores, and I cringed when I saw her swipe Jaxon’s credit card for almost two grand at one of them.

How the hell was I meant to pay my husband back all this money? We had to have spent a good ten grand today, if not more. That didn’t include the obscene amount of money we’d spent shopping online yesterday.

The thought of Jaxon seeing his credit card statement made me feel sick to my stomach, but Emmaline continuously assured me everything we were doing was okay.

I guessed old habits just died fucking hard. Really hard.

My clothes were all taken up for me by a couple of girls to the room I shared with Jaxon. They cast me dirty glances thinking no one would see them, but with one word from Emmaline, they cast their eyes to the floor, mumbling apologies in my direction.

It was . . . strange to have this kind of attention on me. Even back in Russia, I’d never had this kind of treatment. I was a woman whose head was supposed to be down. I was seen, not heard.

As a woman in the Bratva, I had no voice. I was no use except for something like this—to unite two families. But Jaxon treated me so differently, and I wasn’t used to it. It even freaked me out a bit to see how free Emmaline and Juliana were.

Was this normal, though?

“Should we put your clothes away for you?” the blonde asked me, though she didn’t look particularly fond of doing so.

“No,” I murmured, “but thank you.” I wasn’t fond of her touching anything I’d bought today. I could see malice glittering behind her mask. I just wanted her to put my things down and get the hell out, but I’d never say that to them.

They quickly left the room after setting my bags down. I lugged them all into the closet and began putting them away, which was a damn tiring task in itself.

Though I hated that these clothes had cost so much, I couldn’t help but marvel at them. They were so pretty, things I actually liked and weren’t forced to wear. It would feel extremely different to wear clothes that were made to fit me rather than clothes that were too big, but I couldn’t deny that I was a little excited about it.

“You may change, if you’d like,” Jaxon suddenly spoke up from behind me, surprising me.

I squeaked in shock, spinning around to face him. My hand was over my heart, and it was rapidly beating beneath my palm.

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair dripped water onto his forehead and shoulders. I hadn’t even heard him come into the room, much less take a freaking shower.

He grinned at me as if my cluelessness amused him and leaned down to press a kiss to my lips. “Change, Inessa. Throw all of these other clothes out. You have no use for them.”

I fingered one of the bigger t-shirts. “I like to sleep in the shirts,” I said softly, hoping it wouldn’t anger him.

He took one of his shirts down and handed it to me. “Then you can wear mine. Throw those out,” he repeated.

I slowly took the plain black t-shirt he was offering me and clenched the soft material in my hands. “Okay,” I whispered, nodding my head.

He turned his back to me, facing his side of the closet, and I quickly put the shirt in one of my dressers.

Feeling a bit brave with his back to me, I pulled my baggy shirt over my head, changing as he had ordered me to. He glanced over his shoulder at me and halted, his hand in one of the drawers on his dresser, his hungry eyes roving my upper body.

“Fuck,” he rasped. My entire body tingled at that one word, my nipples pebbling behind my sports bra, suddenly making me feel restricted. Jaxon dropped his towel and grabbed his cock in his hand, lightly stroking it. My pussy clenched with need. “Pants,” he growled.

I unbuckled my belt and unsnapped my jeans, letting them pool at my ankles. With my eyes on his, I stepped out of them and pushed them to the side with my foot, leaving me in my plain panties and plain, unappealing sports bra.

But with the way that my husband was looking at me? I might as well had been wearing lacy lingerie.

“Bra,” he roughly commanded.

I quickly unzipped the front of it and undid the clasp before letting it slide down my arms and drop to the floor behind me. He tightened his hand around himself, moaning low in his throat before he loosened his grip. I rubbed my thighs together, my breathing becoming a bit ragged.

I needed him.

It hurt so much.

“Panties.”