Falling Away
Page 97

 Penelope Douglas

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
She nodded, her furious eyes focused to the side. “Yeah, don’t worry. I got it,” she bit out, backing away. “And I won’t forget again.”
The puddle between us immediately spread into a vast ocean, and even if I reached out my arms, I would never be able to reach her.
What the hell was the matter with me? I wanted her—I wanted today, and I wanted tomorrow, but I couldn’t think about next year or even next week. I wanted her curled up next to me, between the sheets, warm and safe, but I had to know when to let go. I had to do it before she did.
She pushed past me. “I’ll stay in Tate’s or Fallon’s tent.”
My shoulders fell. No.
I darted out and circled my arms around her from behind, holding her close and burying my face in her neck. “Don’t,” I begged. “Please don’t.”
My muscles strained, holding her so tight, and I heard her suck in quick breaths. I spun her around, wrapped my arms around her waist, and lifted her up, kissing her deep and hard.
“I can’t let you go,” I panted. “I want you all the time. I’ll be unbearable, Juliet. They won’t know what do with me.”
Her hands clasped my neck, as she looked into my eyes.
“I like you, Jax.” She ran her fingers through my hair above my ear. “I like you a lot. You’re important.”
I closed my eyes, meeting her forehead. “Say it,” I whispered.
Her sweet breath fanned over my lips. “Only ever you.”
And I groaned, hating and loving how those words affected me.
In the years I’d wanted her, I’d thought I was good enough. I thought she should thank her lucky stars that I even gave her the time of day.
But now … there was an ache in my chest and guilt in my heart. I had no right to her. I’d slept with a lot of women, and she deserved someone good. Someone clean. What if I failed her?
I looked into her eyes, taking the leap. “I need to take you somewhere. Tuesday, after we all leave here, I want to take you into Chicago,” I said, kissing her lips softly. “There’s something I want you to see. Someplace I go … at night.”
She nodded, never blinking. “Okay,” she said quietly.
My lips were so close to hers, but my eyes never faltered. “I want you,” I whispered over the lump in my throat. “More than anything. I think of you first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. You’re the most important person in my life, Juliet.” No matter what happened, I needed her to remember that. “I’m trying to let you know me, okay?”
She nodded again. “Just as long as it’s not more cliff diving, okay?”
A grin spread across my face. “No, it’s not that tame.”
By the time Tuesday rolled around, I didn’t want to leave.
The days were fun. The nights were fun. And the fun was easy.
I realized how nice it was to have a girlfriend, and I enjoyed the little things we’d gotten comfortable with each other enough to do, like the familiar little touches, someone to wrap my arms around at the campfire, and waking up with the person I wanted right next to me in the morning. Someone warm and soft and made just for me. It was consistent and comforting.
And after a lifetime of feeling as if I didn’t truly have a home, I finally had something that came naturally.
I’d kissed every inch of her skin, and sucked and bitten anything and everything I could get my hands on. I’d lost count of her different smiles, and my favorite feeling was her teeth on my skin.
She had gotten inside me, but when I slowed down long enough to think, then doubt crept in like a thick fog.
I wouldn’t live up to her expectations, she’d start getting demanding, and we’d get ugly.
Fuck. I rubbed my hand over my face, zoning out on the road as I drove. Fuck the doubt. I was good enough. I was strong enough. I was powerful enough. And I was worthy enough.
“Are you sure this is how I’m supposed to dress?” Juliet asked from the passenger seat.
I looked over, instantly biting back a smile. She looked the hottest I’d ever seen her, and I couldn’t wait to show her what I needed to show her and then get back in the car and get the hell home.
She wore a black-and-white schoolgirl skirt that barely fell below her ass and a gray half-shirt tank top. Her makeup of black eye shadow and red lipstick was thicker than soup, and her severely straight hair fell in a shiny wave down her back. Fallon and Tate had finished the look for her with combat boots with metal buckles.
“You’ll blend. Don’t worry.”
“I look like a slut,” she mourned.
“Those are Tate’s clothes,” I pointed out.
“Which she bought on a whim and never wore,” she shot back. “What about your clothes?”
I wore medium-washed jeans and a short-sleeved black V-neck. I don’t dress up.
“I’m big, and I’ll have a hot goth chick on my arm.” I smiled. “They won’t cry over my lack of eyeliner, okay?”
She rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “I hate that you’re not telling me anything.”
“I confided in Madoc once. He almost vomited,” I joked but not really. “It’s not something I’m going to give you a chance to run from.”
She turned her wide eyes on me, probably wondering if now was too late to get scared.
In all fairness, Madoc had been a good friend about it. One night, I’d dragged him to Chicago with me, to the Skull & Feather, because I’d needed to share it with someone.