43. Jaxcen

Chapter forty-three

Jaxcen

C ompletely shaken by what just happened at Cloud 9, I dress and flee by foot, running the five city blocks back to Presley’s apartment. I’ve been holding my tears at bay as much as I can. Some escape every now and then, but I wrangle them under control, completely confused over seeing Devon again.

Why did he go there?

Why did he do that?

I’d been doing so well, or so I thought, but I was fooling myself. Big time.

I’m not okay, and I haven’t been ever since Devon booted me out of his town.

The moment I close myself inside the apartment, I want to break, but I keep it all in, needing to shower. I need to get his scent off my skin before I completely lose the little control I have.

“I’ve decided Christmas isn’t enough.”

The deep voice startles me, and I scream, whirling around to see Devon sitting on the lounge suite dressed in black pants and a black shirt, looking devastatingly handsome. He’s leaning forward, legs wide the way men sit, his elbows resting on top of his knees.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak. “How did you get in?”

“Since this building is owned by the Marx family, and I’m a Marx, getting in isn’t that hard.” He stands, his height and frame making Presley’s apartment feel small. Too small as he stalks closer. “And I’m here for you.”

“I… I don’t understand. What do you mean Christmas isn’t enough?” I whisper loudly, taking a step back.

He smirks that wicked way only Devon Marx can. “Have you forgotten how I said I’d come for you every Christmas? That I’d kidnap you every year?”

I frown. What the hell is he talking about?

“I remember you rambling about that at one point, but then you forced me to leave, Devon. I figured playtime was over.”

His eyes darken at my words, and he steps closer, making my retreat end against the wall by the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

“Rambling?” He smirks, arching a dark brow. “You call my promises rambling?”

“There’s a lot of things I could call them, Devon, but never once did I consider them a promise.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he cages me in, a hand on either side of my head as he leans in.

“I’ve decided to keep you.”

My brows shoot high before I scowl at him.

“I’m not a possession.”

“Aren’t you?” He tilts his head to the side, his gaze dropping to my cleavage.

“I don’t want to be your sex slave, Devon.”

Those dark eyes dart back to mine. “Don’t you? Why not? You enjoy it so much.”

My nostrils flare at his insinuation, even though he’s not wrong, which just pisses me off even more.

“I need more.” I dare to admit the truth, and he shifts to lean on one elbow, as his other hand reaches out, his fingers brushing my flaming hot cheek.

“Like what, little mouse?”

“Dates. Dinners. Couples things,” I admit, knowing Devon Marx isn’t that kind of man. “I may crave the kind of sex you can give me, but I also crave a companion. Someone who sees me for me.”

He jerks back like I just slapped him, his hand falling away, and god damnit, I miss it.

Shit.

“You don’t think I see you?” he asks, sounding a little hurt. “Has nothing during our confessions shown you that?”

“That was role play,” I scoff, pressing my hands to his chest to shove him back, but he doesn’t budge.

Instead he peels my hands from his chest and holds them there, his big palms engulfing mine.

“Sure, the submission part was role play, but the confessions themselves, my interest in them was real. If that part was simply role play, then the confessions would have been made up for the sake of the scene we were playing. Not real truths, little mouse.” He presses his lips to the back of my hands, first one, and then the other, he kisses them. “It was more than kink for me.”

His admission is real. I can hear it in his tone. See it in his eyes. Feel it in his searing touch as he holds my hands like he’s worried they’ll disappear.

Crap. He’s right. Those confessions with him were the realest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve been exposed and vulnerable before. Made to feel so alone that nothing I cared about mattered.

But Devon, those moments we shared were brutally honest, and he wanted my truth, not to use against me, but because I needed someone to hear me. Just once.

Tears well in my eyes as I let myself remember how he made me feel. How safe I felt even when he was pushing me to step over the scary line.

But that’s not enough. Sure he’s missed having sex with me and the way I push his buttons. I can tell he likes that about me. But I need so much more than confessions of sins, and sex so intense that I allow myself to pass out.

“It’s not enough,” I whisper, my lip trembling as I fight not to shatter in his presence.

“What more do you need?” he asks, releasing my hands and cupping each side of my face, tilting my head back so there’s nowhere else to look but at him.

“Love,” I admit, and he frowns.

“You don’t think I love you?” he grumbles, and I try to shake my head, but his grip is firm, and I can’t move it an inch.

“No. I think you want to possess me. Control me. Own me,” I admit, seeing his frown deepen with each word I speak. “You obviously can’t handle the idea of me going to Cloud 9 or you wouldn’t have gone there tonight. You wouldn’t be doing this. That’s not love.”

“I disagree,” he growls, pressing his forehead to mine. “I think possessing you is the realest love there is. I don’t deny how I feel about you. I may be a bad man, but fuck woman, you make me want to be good.”

He kisses me then, his lips hot and soft and intoxicating. I’m powerless to deny him so I part my lips willingly, our tongues clashing in a kiss that feels like he’s trying to claim me.

Then he pulls back, his gaze on my lips momentarily before locking with mine. “And as for Cloud 9, I went there for you, so you could finally step over that line. So you could feel what it was like to have everyone worship you with their heated eyes and their writhing loins. The reason you’ve never been able to do it is because you didn’t have me.”

I want to scoff, but a lump the size of a cricket ball is lodged in my throat, because I think he’s actually right. I’ve been to Cloud 9 so many times, and I couldn’t make myself step over the line.

I used to think it was because of Eddie and those twisted beliefs we had, but now, although that did play a role in it, I really think I just didn’t trust anyone enough to touch me. To make sure I enjoyed it. To make sure I was safe.

Fat tears spill over, and I finally work the lump down enough so I can speak.

“You sent me away.”

“Yes.” He swipes at my tears with his thumbs.

“And now you want me back? ”

“Yes,” he admits easily, staring into my eyes, his lips so close to mine that we are sharing the same air.

“Why? I thought you said it was too dangerous,” I whisper.

“I made a mistake. I can keep you safer if you’re with me.”

My brows shoot up. “Devon Marx, the devil. Made a mistake?”

“Yes.” He gives a single nod, ignoring my mocking tone.

Why is he doing this now?

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what’s right or wrong.

I can’t think straight when he’s so close.

Relaxing my knees, I drop down out of his hold, escaping him, and I don’t miss the surprise on his face.

He thought I was about to cave.

It hurts to think about. I hate that I fell so hard for a man I hardly know. I hate that it was so easy for him to get under my skin. And I hate that all I want to do is run back into his arms and forget the loneliness I’ve felt every minute of every day since he sent me away.

But I can’t.

There’s more than my heart at stake.

“Please leave. I need… time.”

He scowls, but doesn’t follow me as I retreat backwards, stepping into the hallway that leads to my bedroom.

“Jax,” he rasps, but I shake my head.

“Please make sure the door is locked on your way out.” And with that, I turn and hurry into my bedroom, closing myself in.

I stand with my back to the door, holding my breath, trying to keep my tears at bay until I hear him leave.

I wait. And wait. And wait.

Finally, the sound of my apartment door opening and closing floats down the hallway, and my shoulders sag as the first sob escapes me.

I take the five steps to my bed and fall face first, holding my breath as the pain feels like it’s going to shatter my heart on my next breath as I start to cry .

The sound of my bedroom door opening has me stilling, before I roll around to see Devon storming in.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he snaps, his eyes locking onto mine as I gasp. “You can have all the time you need in my fucking bed, in my fucking town, where you belong.” He rakes his hand through his hair before continuing, his eyes giving my bedroom a quick scan.

Oh no.

“You can… can…” He frowns, his eyes leaving me to the far bedside table, and I know exactly what he’s looking at. “Is that…” His gaze darts back to me as he points. “Is that what I think it is?”

I shake my head, my eyes wide, tears still searing my cheeks and I reel with panic at how to explain this.

Or better yet, get him out so I don’t have to.

“It fucking is,” he yells as he starts to round my bed, and I scramble to roll over and crawl across my mattress to reach the bedside table before he does.

My hand grips it, and I’m about to snatch it away, but Devon latches on, his strength far outmatching mine, and he tugs it from my hold.

“Devon!” I yell, pushing up to my knees on the mattress as I try again to snatch it back, but he steps backwards, the frame gripped in both of his hands as his eyes study the picture.

Shit.

SHIT.

“Devon,” I cry, and finally his gaze lifts from the framed picture to look at me.

“Are you… Is there…” His wide eyes drop to my stomach, and my heart melts like butter on hot toast.

He looks so adorable right now. Those big eyes, normally so harsh, are wide and round, making him look younger. Making him look so hopeful.

Wait.

No.

Stop.

Don’t think that way about Devon.

I can’ t let myself care.

But then, his lips spread wide, his teeth flash as he beams, a smile so big I’ve never seen him wear it, and oh lord, it’s something else. Something miraculous.

Something I want to see again. And again. And again.

“I did it,” he whispers, still grinning from ear to ear, his gaze darting back to the picture in his hand. “You’re having my baby.”

Dammit. This isn’t how it was meant to go. He was meant to leave me alone. I’d only just started to accept that. I’d only just embraced the idea of being a single mum, and now he comes in and does this.

I’m so confused and annoyed and I just… I just need him to leave.

“No, Devon. I’m having my baby.”

He doesn’t hear me though, or if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it, moving to my closet and opening the door.

“We need to pack your things.”

“What? No!”

“Yes,” he snarls over his shoulder, so I scramble off my bed and try to stop him as he starts taking my clothes off the hangers.

“No, Devon. Stop. Put them back.”

“Oh, wow. For a moment there I thought you’d totally lost it and were talking to yourself.”

Presley’s voice makes us both freeze and look over our shoulders to see her grinning from the doorway.

“Hey, Presley,” Devon says, and I frown, turning back to him and slapping his arm.

“Don’t speak to my sister.”

He frowns at where I slapped him, but then completely forgets about it as his mind goes back to the baby.

“Find a bag, Jaxcen. Stop wasting time.”

“I said no!” I stomp my foot and ball my fists while Presley giggles from the doorway.

“I guess he knows about Apricot, then?” she asks, and I send her a ‘ you’re not being helpful glare ’ as Devon stills, glancing back at my sister.

“Apricot?”

“Yeah. That’s this week’s name since Jax is ten weeks pregnant. The baby is the size of an apricot,” Presley explains, sitting on my bed with a big goofy smile.

“Really?” Devon asks, clearly surprised. “The size of an apricot?”

“Yep.” Presley nods, popping the P before Devon drops to his knees before me, his large hands engulfing my hips as he stares at my tummy.

“Hey there, Apricot.”

Oh fuck.

If I weren’t already pregnant, I would have just conceived right in this moment.

Why is his fascination so adorable?

I glance back at Presley to see her beaming, looking so damn happy.

Why is she looking so damn happy? She knows this can’t happen.

“Stop.” I try to take a step back, but Devon holds me in place.

“When’s the baby due?” he asks, his dark gaze darting up to mine, and hell, I’ve never seen so much hope in his stare before.

“None of your business,” I say quietly as Presley speaks over me. “September.”

“September.” Devon smiles at me before looking back at my stomach, even though all he can see is my green dress. “A spring baby. Fucking perfect.” He nods before leaning forward and pressing his lips to my fabric covered stomach.

I hear Presley sigh from where she’s sitting on my bed, and I shoot her a glare, but she’s too busy looking dreamily at me and Devon.

Great. Now she’s lost her mind too .

“Pack your bag,” Devon says for the hundredth time, standing up and turning back to move to my closet, digging more clothes out.

“No,” I sigh, my shoulders dropping.

This argument is exhausting.

“Fine.” He nods, more to himself than anything, his eyes coming to mine. “I’ll send my men for your belongings.”

I’m about to argue with him once again when he starts stalking towards me and I try to skitter away.

“Stop, Devon. I’m not going with you.” I hold my hands out, my heels colliding with my bed as I fall back, but Devon stops his chase, sighing and shrugging.

“Fine. I’ll just stay here. I’ll get Finn to bring my clothes.”

“What!” Presley finally speaks up, her voice pitched high as she launches herself off the bed. “Uh-uh. Jax, you need to go with him.”

“What! Whose side are you on?” I protest, bolting up from the bed to stare at my sister.

“I’m on my side. Firstly, I don’t want a man in my apartment. Men are pigs.” She glares at me. “Secondly, you’ve been pining over him ever since you left. Stop being stubborn and just decide to be happy.”

“You’ve been pining over me?” Devon asks and I snap.

“No!”

“Yeah, you have.” He brings out his shit-eating grin which makes me want to be irrationally violent.

“Get out!” I point to the door but he shakes his head, stepping up to me and taking my hand in his.

“Come on, love. Decide to be happy with me.”

“Stop,” I whisper, and he shakes his head again.

“No, I’ll never stop fighting for you.”

“Oh my god!” Presley’s voice draws our attention to see her gesturing to us. “Do you have a brother like you? I’m single and ready for all that.”

“Presley!” I squeak, and she shrugs.

“What? At least I’m being honest, which is more than you’re being right now.”

She has a point, but even so, why isn’t she on my side right now?

“Come on, little mouse. Come with me. Let me remind you of how much my town adores you.”

“But… You broke my heart,” I whisper, and for the first time I see the regret wash over his expression as he reaches out and cups my cheek.

“If it’s any consolation, I broke my own heart too.”

It’s hard to believe a man like him could ever be brokenhearted, what with him being so tough and all, but I can see it. The truth is in his eyes. The pain he’s been suffering.

“Did you cry?” I ask, needing the truth.

“Nearly,” he admits, and shit, I hate the thought of him being so sad that he nearly cries.

I know that pain all too well.

“Did you day drink and get wasted?” I ask, and he nods quickly.

“Many times, little mouse. Many, many times.”

“Did you think about calling me?”

He gives me a sad smile then. One that doesn’t reach his eyes as he responds. “I’ve stared at your number every fucking day since I sent you way. Hell, I even got rid of your piece of shit ex fiancé for you.”

My mouth drops open as I gasp, while Presley giggles.

“You owe me fifty bucks, sis. I told you it was no accident.”

“Are you serious?” I whisper, and again Devon nods, doing that thing again where he presses his forehead to mine.

“Yes. He’d been following you. Stalking you. Spying on you from across the street. He even grabbed you at Cloud 9. He had to go. I needed to do that so you could be safe.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He actually murdered my ex fiancé.

And why aren’t I mad about that? What is wrong with me?

You’re a scandalous sinner, Jaxcen. Stop fighting it.

“You know about Eddie coming to Cloud 9?” I ask, and he nods.

“Come back home with me.” He cups the other side of my face. “Let me make my shitty decision up to you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Should I really forgive him?

I want to, but is it the right thing to do?

What if it’s not?

But, what if it is?

What if going with Devon, giving him this chance, is my happily ever after?

What if it turns out better than I ever thought I deserved?

What if he’s the best dad, loving and protecting, giving our child a life without any of the horrors I’ve endured?

I stare into his deep dark eyes for a long time as he waits patiently for me to respond.

A warm calm rushes through me from head to toe and I know… I already know what I have to do. What I want to do.

I lick my lips and suck in a deep breath as I take a step backwards, putting some distance between us.

“If you want me to come with you. You’ll have to make me.”

That absolutely wicked grin only Devon Marx can pull off, kicks up his lips, and he starts to slowly roll up his shirt sleeves.

Damn, why is that so hot?

“I’ll do it, little mouse. I’ll kidnap you over and over until you come to terms with the fact that you belong with me. In my bed. By my side.”

I give a non caring single shrug of my shoulder as I continue walking backwards getting closer to my bedroom door, ignoring Presley’s excited giggles and claps.

“If you can catch me, you can keep me.”

My words elicit an animalistic growl, and I spin with a squeal, running out of my room and down the hall towards the front door.

I can hear his wicked laugh before those heavy feet and long strides start chasing me, and my heart almost leaps out my throat as I grip the handle of the apartment door and throw it open, bolting out into the passage .

As I dash past the lifts, I press the button but keep running, knowing it won’t get here in time.

With my eyes trained on the exit sign, I hurry forward, hearing his heavy feet closing in as I shove the stairwell door open, ready to bolt down the flights of stairs.

Devon’s strong arm latches around my waist, his hand slapping over my mouth as I scream, my heart thrashing wildly like it’s ready to gallop off without me, and leave the shell of my body behind.

“You’re mine now, little mouse.” Devon growls against my ear, dropping me to my feet and spinning me before hoisting me up so my legs wrap around him.

“Why do you call me little mouse?” I ask, hoping he’ll finally tell me, and he smirks, his dark eyes piercing as he cups my cheek.

“Because I am the predator, and you are my prey. I’m the big scary cat, and you’re the sweet little mouse.”

I barely have a second to react before his lips are on mine, his weight pressing me into the cool concrete wall of the fire escape as he fumbles with his pants.

I moan, grind on any friction I can get as he frees himself, and then, with skilled fingers, he slips my panties aside and drives into me hard.

We both cry out, our moans echoing all the way up to the twenty sixth floor, and all the way back down to the bottom as he pounds into me, and all I can do is hold on, lose myself in his lips and tongue and the sparks of electricity that dance from his skin to mine.

There’s no extra stimulation needed. This right here is fuelled by more than lust. By more than sexual desire.

We fit. It makes no sense to me, but at the same time it makes all the sense in the world, and as he sends me to new heights, breaking our kiss, he draws back, pinning me to the wall with his hand around my throat to claim me completely. Mind. Body. And soul.

“You’re mine now, little mouse. I’m never letting you go.”