One Woman (Naked Trilogy 2)

His leg catches my leg, leveraging every push and pull of our bodies, while we’re rocking, grinding, and pumping. And then I’m there, on the edge, no ability to hold back, and I suddenly want to hold back, but it’s just too late. The tight ball of tension in my belly and sex explodes, and I’m spasming around his cock.

With a low groan, his muscles flex and his shaft pulses, his hot release filling me. I moan. He moans. We’re both lost in the ride that is up and higher, and then slowly down, until we’ve collapsed together, him on top of me, me all but melting beneath him into the mattress. Slowly, my leg slides from his, and he rolls us to our sides, and I don’t even care about the mess. I don’t want to move. He catches my leg with his and pulls me to him, his hand on my face.

His thumb strokes my bottom lip, wiping away the dampness of our kisses. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me, too,” I whisper, and then we just stare at each other, a million unspoken words between us.

A little while later, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Don’t move. I’ll get you a towel.” He kisses me and then he’s gone, and I’m aware of the stickiness on my thighs, so I do as he bids. I don’t move. I don’t even turn to watch him cross the room in all that naked perfection that is hard to ignore. Unbidden, there’s an emotional storm inside me that I don’t want to take control of. A flashback of that ledge, of me on the edge of that wall, feeling like I was going to fall to my death shifts to a flashback of my bound hands. I sit up, and Jax is already back.

I don’t look at him.

I’m not looking at this gorgeous man, and he’s naked. Clearly, I’m not in my right mind in the moment. He sits down next to me and hands me the towel. “Thank you,” I say, and I can feel him looking at me, his stare heavy and probing, willing my gaze to his, but I have such a transparent face, and I don’t really know what is happening inside me right now, but it’s not good.

I scoot to the edge of the bed. “Bathroom,” I say, pushing to my feet, and oblivious of my nudity, I dash toward the door in front of me. Exposing my body to Jax isn’t the issue. It’s everything else that has me feeling raw and cut open. Once I reach the bathroom, I enter and shut the door behind me, staring at the room that is so much more than a bathroom. It’s round, literally, with stone walls and a round cushioned ottoman that is quite massive in the center. The bathtub is beyond it, a claw foot tub, and when my eyes lift, I find a skylight cut like petals of an elaborate flower. It’s a gorgeous reminder that Jax doesn’t need my money. And while some people are greedy enough to always want more, I don’t feel that with Jax.

I pant out a breath and will away whatever this knot of emotion is in my chest, but I fail. I settle for locating the toilet behind a door, using it and washing up, before I end up sitting on the round cushion in the center of the room. I think I almost died tonight. I think if Jax wouldn’t have come for me when he did, I would have ended up a broken body on the rocks below the tower. A smart person wouldn’t be here. God, what am I doing here?

Jax.

Jax is why I’m here.

He’s not his brother. He doesn’t want to kill me.

My mind goes back to the ledge, and I can almost feel the cold air on my skin again. A memory that wants to shift again to a less recent past, and I stand up. No. No. No. Why am I letting that part of my life live in this part of my life?

There’s a knock on the door, and I jolt, pushing to my feet. Suddenly naked is a little too exposed with Jax when it wasn’t a few minutes ago. My gaze rockets to the door I believe leads into a closet. I rush that way, stepping inside a giant closet organized by dress clothes and casual clothes. I walk to the T-shirts and grab one, pulling it over my head.

“Emma!”

At the sound of Jax’s voice, I hurry to the door and find him peeking into the bathroom. “Can I come in?” he asks.

Can he come in? It’s his house, and he’s asking me if he can come in. Just like he stopped trying to tie me up when I asked him to stop and did so with passion and tenderness, not anger. “Of course, you can come in,” I say, and I walk toward him.