Falling Away
Page 2

A kid who was looking less and less like one every day.
And right now he wasn’t coming up for air. I jerked my body toward the door, not wanting him—or her—to see me, but …
“Jax,” the girl gasped. “More. Please.”
And I stopped, unable to move again. Just leave, K.C. You don’t care.
I squeezed the doorknob, sucking in quick breaths, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
I didn’t know why my hands shook.
Chewing my bottom lip, I inched around the corner again and saw him and the girl.
My heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest. And it hurt.
The girl—I didn’t recognize her from school—was completely naked, lying on her stomach on the couch. Jax was sprawled on top of her from behind, and judging from his jeans pushed down below his ass and his thrusting hips, he was inside her.
He didn’t even get fully undressed to make love to a girl. He couldn’t even look her in the face. I wasn’t surprised. With the arrogance he displayed around school, Jax could do whatever he wanted, and he did.
Holding himself up with one arm, he used the other to wrap around her face and twist her chin toward him before he leaned down and covered her mouth with his.
Liam had never kissed me like that. Or I’d never kissed him like that.
The girl—long blond hair fanning around her face and spilling over her shoulders—kissed him back with full force, their jaws moving in sync as his tongue and teeth worked her.
Jax’s smooth, sculpted hips ground into her in slow, savory movements while his hand left her face to run down her back and then slide underneath her body to cup her breast. He didn’t do one thing at a time. Every part of his body was in this, and everything he did looked as if it felt good.
And why wouldn’t it? Jax was coveted by the girls in this town for a reason after all. He was suave, confident, and good-looking. Not my type, but there was no denying that he was sexy. According to Tate, he was part Native American.
His skin was like toffee—smooth, unblemished, and warm-looking. His hair was a deep brown, almost black, and it hung halfway down his back. He often braided pieces of it before tying it back into a ponytail midskull, which he did all the time. I’d never seen his hair hanging loose.
He had to be six feet tall by now and would probably be exceeding his brother in height in no time. I’d seen Jax on the lacrosse field at school and at the gym where we both worked out. The dips in his biceps and triceps flexed as he held himself above the girl and worked his body into hers. With the moonlight coming through the window, I could just make out the V in his torso as it descended to his abs and lower.
He didn’t break pace as he whispered in her ear, and as if she were given an order, she dropped her foot to the floor, bent her knee, and arched her back.
Jax let his head fall back and bared his teeth as he sank deeper into her, and I stared, absently tracing the scar on the inside of my wrist.
I wanted it to be like that for me. I wanted to be breathless like her. Gasping and desperate. Passionate and hungry.
Liam had made me happy once, and when he messed up, I took him back, because I thought the relationship was worth it.
But now, seeing this … I knew we were missing something.
I didn’t know when the tear spilled over, but I felt it drop onto my dress, and I blinked rapidly, wiping my face.
And then my eye caught something, and I blinked again, noticing someone else in the room. Another girl, nearly naked in her bra and panties.
I swallowed a gasp, sucked in air, and then swallowed again.
What the hell?
She walked across the room—she must’ve been over by the windows, because I hadn’t seen her until now—and leaned down, kissing Jax hard.
Acid bile crept up my throat.
“Ugh!” I growled, and stumbled backward, hitting the opposite wall in the entryway. Scrambling, I yanked open the front door and flew outside without looking back.
Jumping the steps, I had hit the grass running when a deep voice commanded behind me, “Stop!”
I didn’t.
Screw him. Screw Jaxon Trent. I didn’t know why I was mad, and who the hell cared?
Running across the lawn, I bolted for the sidewalk, wishing I’d worn sneakers instead of sandals that flopped around on my feet.
“Stop, or I will take you to the ground, K.C.!” Jax’s loud bellow threatened behind me, and I brought myself to a sudden halt.
Shit. My eyes darted from left to right, searching for an escape. He wouldn’t really do that, would he?
I inched around slowly, watching as he stepped off the stairs and walked toward me. He was wearing pants, thank God. But I guess that was easy, since he never really took them off. The dark-washed jeans hung off his hips, and I got a damn clear look at the muscles framing his abs. He had a swimmer’s body, but I wasn’t sure if he was actually a swimmer. From the way the top of his jeans barely hung just above his hairline, I guessed he wasn’t wearing boxers … or anything under the jeans. I thought of what was just beneath his pants, and heat warmed my belly. I clenched my thighs together.
I shot my eyes down to the ground, wondering how I could stand the sight of him. He was just a kid. Did he do things like that with a lot of girls?
He came up to stand in front of me, hovering down, since he was nearly a half foot taller. “What are you doing here?” he accused.
I locked my mouth shut and scowled at the air around him, still avoiding eye contact.
“You left with your dipshit boyfriend an hour ago,” he pointed out.