6. Devon

Chapter six

Devon

T he fuck is she doing?

“Jaxcen!” I yell, my hand snapping out to fist her blazer in my grip as the door swings wide. On instinct, my foot lifts off the accelerator, slowing the car’s pace as the god damn pine forest passes by in a rush.

“Just let me go!” she cries, fighting against my hold.

“If you jump, you’ll fucking die, woman! What is wrong with you?”

“I would rather die this way, than have you lead me to my grave and shoot me in the head!”

Jesus fucking Christ, has she lost her fucking mind?

With her blazer still in my grip, I’m surprised she doesn’t try to shrug out of it to get away. Perhaps she hasn’t even considered she could do that, or perhaps she really doesn’t want to jump. Either way, I hold her with one hand while I steer the wheel with the other, easing the car to a stop on the side of the road.

The moment I release her, she runs.

For fuck’s sake, can this night get anymore painful?

“Goddammit, Jaxcen,” I hiss, throwing my door open, nearly choking myself on the fucking seatbelt because I forgot to take the fucking thing off.

When I wrestle my way out of the car, I storm around the front to see her trying to navigate the ditch on the side of the road in bare feet, her fucking heels clutched in one hand as she sets her sights on the dark forest .

“Are you fucking crazy, woman? You won’t last five minutes out in the pine forest. Now get your arse back in the car!” I demand, my tone deadly.

“No. I’m not going with you. You’re just going to kill me.” She cries before slipping in the mud as she tries to scramble up the embankment.

“Fucking hell,” I snap, before storming towards her.

Once again my strides are double the length of hers as I close the distance.

This woman is hilarious as she holds those goddamn heels up high like she can’t bear to get a speck of fucking mud on them, and I’d be laughing if it wasn’t so fucking annoying.

“Stop, Jaxcen!” I yell, tired of chasing her, but my demand has her scrambling harder in the mud.

It only takes me two more strides to catch up with her once again. For the third time tonight, my arms wrap around her from behind as I stop her from fucking running.

A scream lurches from her lungs, so loud it echoes around us, disturbing something that has wings deep in the pine forest.

At hearing the wings flap, my little mouse stills, a quiet whimper flying past her lips, and I know now she’s beginning to realise that I’m probably the better devil in this scenario.

“We made a deal, did we not, little mouse?”

“Yes, but…” She squirms in my arms, still trying to get away, but I hold firm, pressing my lips to her ear and inhaling her intoxicating scent.

It’s fruity, but has a spice to it that I can’t quite place. Whatever it is, it makes my fucking cock stir, and I have to fight the urge to nip at her lobe which is so close to my lips.

A deep rumble sounds in my chest as I fight against all of my carnal urges to give in and just take her right here, right now, in the mud against the embankment.

Lucky for her, I shake it off.

“But nothing, little mouse. We made a deal.” I remind her, and even though she whimpers, I swear she presses her ear closer to my lips.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she murmurs breathlessly, fear lacing her tone as I carry her back to the car once again.

This whole thing feels like deja vu, and for a moment I wonder if she likes running. If she likes being chased. Because I sure as shit know that I fucking love chasing.

Lowering her to her feet, I spin her and press my palms to her shoulders to urge her back down into the car. It’s then that she starts crying. Fat tears popping from those big blue eyes that look up to me pleadingly.

“Why are you doing this? Please, I don’t want to die. You killed them in self defence and I promise I’ll never tell anyone what I saw.”

I chuckle. “The first guy was in self defence. The second guy was because I could.”

She pales.

“A deal is a deal. You told me your confession, little mouse. I’m not going to kill you.”

Not that I was anyway. I could tell her that and alleviate her fears, but that will bring about other drama that I don’t have the patience to deal with right now. She’s better off not knowing she’s become a target. She’s better off not knowing I’ve brought her here to protect her.

“If you’re not going to kill me, then why am I here? Why can’t I just go home?”

Lowering to my haunches in front of her, those blue pools follow my every move, her pink lips so plump and kissable that I have to fight every fucking urge inside me not to just lean in and claim her lips again.

“I may have said I’m not going to kill you, little mouse. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep you for a little while. It’s boring out here at Christmas time.” I shrug with indifference. “There’s nothing to do out here in the pine forests, and I want something new to play with.”

Her lower lip trembles at my words, my insinuation clear.

“So you’re going to rape me, is that it?” she snaps, that little fire inside her returning .

“Love, when you spread those pretty thighs for me, it’ll be because you beg me for my cock.”

Even though her lips part in a shocked gasp, the fire brushing over her cheeks gives away how much I think she would love that scenario.

“I’m engaged!” She protests like her upcoming nuptials are going to stop me from taking my fill of her sweet, sexy little body.

“Engaged isn’t married, little mouse. So until then. You’re all mine.”

I’ve never said that to a woman before. You’re mine. I’ve never claimed a woman to be mine. Never wanted to. But for some reason, the idea of making her mine has my cock hardening, my balls tightening, and my heart racing.

Can this day get any fucking weirder?

“Seatbelt, little mouse. We are nearly at our destination,” I bark, and even though she looks like she wants to argue, she shifts back in the seat and starts tugging her seatbelt on.

“Don’t you mean hell?” she snaps, sending my lips wide as I laugh at her retort.

Such a feisty little Catholic girl.

Standing, I close the door and watch her as I round the front of the car.

Once back inside the sleek Corvette, I strap myself back in and the first thing I notice is all the mud my little mouse has brought in with her.

Connie’s not going to be happy about that.

The next thing I notice is that Jaxcen still has those damn heels in her hand. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to stab me with them. Maybe she hasn’t considered that the stiletto could be used as a weapon. Since I’m not keen to get stabbed right now, I keep that to myself and plant my foot on the accelerator once again, speeding into the darkness ahead.

Woodall Ridge is a small mill town that sits on the cliffs overlooking Timber Valley. A couple of years ago, the little town became mine .

It was crumbling and old. The remaining occupants in the town were too elderly to work anymore to maintain it. There were no job prospects, no tourism. It was fast becoming a dying ghost town, which just so happens to be the perfect place for someone like me to call home.

So I acquired it. Made some upgrades to most of the main buildings and some of the homes, and turned it into a kind of gated community.

At the time, the ten or so elderly residents that remained were happy to stay. They were already willing to die in this place, and I knew they weren’t going to be any trouble, so I let them stay and upgraded their homes, and ever since, I’ve made sure there’s enough food and medicine for them to live out the rest of their days comfortably.

Why would the devil do that?

Well, like they say. Better the devil you know.

As we approach Woodall Ridge, my gaze shoots in the direction of each armed post I know is hiding in the forest. Normally they would shoot the tires out of an unknown car arriving in the dead of night. However, I already know Finn would have called ahead to let them know what car I would be arriving in and that I would have a guest with me.

Nearing the town’s edge, the gates of Woodall Ridge loom ahead, the men guarding it all armed to the nines, on alert as we approach.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Jaxcen murmurs, and I flick my gaze to her to see those big blue eyes wide as she takes in the armed men up ahead.

“Of course, little mouse. This is hell.”

Her blue gaze darts to mine. “Woodall Ridge is hell?”

Smirking, I shrug. “Depends who you ask. But I prefer to call it home.”

Surprise flickers over her face, her gaze staring back out the window as I ease the car to a stop while the big gates slowly creak open.

I nod to my men standing guard as we wait, and as soon as the gates open wide enough, I drive through and up the dark steep road that leads to the main township.

Given the early hour of the morning, which some might say is late at night, no one is around but those on duty to protect the township. All the houses are dark. All the businesses are dark. All except for the large building up ahead.

The Palace.

The Palace Hotel has become my home. It’s also the main hub of activity in the township where people gather, drink, eat, and celebrate. But the top floors are all mine.

Jaxcen remains quiet as I pull the car to stop outside the pub. She seems to have shrunken in on herself. Whether it’s from fear or the unknown, I’m not sure, but since I’m dead tired and fucking starving, I don’t have it in me to pacify her.

Getting out of the car, I round it and notice she watches my every move right up to the moment I crack her door open and wait for her to climb out, but she remains seated, her seatbelt securely fastened.

“Time to get out, little mouse.”

She shakes her head.

“For fuck’s sake, Jaxcen. Get out of the car.”

Her big blue eyes shoot up to me. “Promise you’re not going to rape me.”

“Fucking hell, woman. I already told you that when you part those thighs, it’ll be because you want to. Now get the fuck out of the car.”

She scoffs, shooting one of her vicious daggers at me as she unfastens her seatbelt and slowly eases out of the car with those god damn heels still in her hand.

Pressing my hand to the small of her back, I lead her up the steps of the old hotel. My men standing guard on either side of the grand doors give me a nod as they open them to let us through, and Jaxcen takes it all in, looking back over her shoulder at my men who close the doors behind us.

Then her gaze roams over everything in our path .

“Who owns this place?” she whispers like she’s worried we will wake someone.

“I’m the king of this palace, little mouse.” I grin and wag my brows at her as her gaze snaps to mine.

“This is yours?” she whispers again and I nod.

“Yes. The Palace is mine. This is hell.”

Her brows shoot high like she’s surprised my home isn’t a fucking dungeon, and a part of me wants to take her down into the cellar to show her where I do have an actual dungeon, but given everything she’s been through tonight, I don’t think she’d appreciate my killing cave that much, so I lead her into the hotel kitchen, where a very tired looking Mabel stands.

“Mr Marx.” She smiles, giving me a welcoming nod before shooting a warm smile to Jaxcen.

“Mabel, please tell me you didn’t get out of bed just for me?”

She waves me off. “I couldn’t sleep anyway and heard you arrive, so I thought that perhaps you’d like some supper before you turn in for the evening.”

Smiling, I glance down at Jaxcen who seems to be stunned given the way her lips are parted and her brows have disappeared into her hairline.

“Are you hungry, little mouse?”

“Oh, umm.” Her dark lashes flutter like she’s just woke from a trance. “I don’t want to impose.”

I chuckle. “Perhaps just some sandwiches, Mabel. Could you bring them up to my suite please?”

“Of course, Mr Marx. Would you like a hot chocolate as well?”

“Would my guest like a hot chocolate?” I ask teasingly as I turn my sights back to Jaxcen who slowly nods.

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely, thank you.”

Fuck, she’s so damn polite.

So polite. So sweet.

And all I want to do is corrupt her .

As Mabel starts on her task, I lead Jaxcen out of the kitchen and towards the staircase that leads up to my suite. It’s a grand old staircase, the railings a deep mahogany, and the carpet runner a royal red befitting a palace.

Large painted portraits line the walls as we ascend, and Jaxcen’s gaze studies each one as we pass like she is trying to learn something about me.

Unfortunately, those portraits are not my lineage. They were here when I took over the place, and they say something about the history of the town, and the previous owners of the pub, so I thought they deserved to stay.

At the top of the staircase, a set of double doors are ahead, and off to each side is a single door. One of the single doors is access for the staff lift. And hidden away behind the other door is another staircase leading up into the attic.

But the double doors straight ahead lead into my suite, which is where I take Jaxcen.

Going inside, she remains quiet, taking in the open plan space of the main living area. Her eyes are unable to hide her surprise, and I take a moment to study the space I’ve been living in.

The walls are papered in a texture that almost looks like a linen fibre with greys, creams, and taupes through it. All the doors are a rich brown, almost black, and the light switches match with the centre, a stainless steel look. The floors are a light sandy brown timber look, with large rugs at the foot of the lush grey couch and underneath the rich brown circular dining table.

The drapes are heavy, a greyish black, and I know behind them are white sheers that Jaxcen will get a glimpse of when the sun rises.

Her eyes roam over the kitchen, which is one of my favourite parts of my suite, aside from what lies waiting behind my bedroom doors. The stone benchtops wrap from the floor, their dark granite speckles with silver that makes it sparkle. The cabinetry is a lighter timber to the doors in the suite, creating a contrast with the black handles and sleek black appliances, including the fridge.

“Shocked little mouse? Or is that disappointment I see in your eyes that my apartment doesn’t resemble more of a dungeon?”

A laugh bubbles up her throat, and as if the action shocks her, she slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening like she is disappointed in herself that she found humour in this situation.

“You’re safe here with me, Jaxcen. It’s okay to laugh.” I grin, and she drops her hand from her mouth.

“You kidnapped me. There is nothing funny about this.” Dragging her gaze from mine, she turns in a full circle, her eyes travelling over my suite. “I think perhaps I’m a little delirious.”

She’s right. I did kidnap her, but with good reason.

“Well, what do you think? Is your new prison up to your standards?”

Her eyes narrow, the fire returning to them as my words remind her that she is indeed my prisoner.

“It looks easy enough to break out of.” She counters and I laugh.

“You can try, little mouse.” I gesture to the double entry doors. “But just remember I have armed men inside this building. I have armed men outside this building. And I have armed men at every exit point of the town. So while this building might be easy enough for you to get out of, do you really think you’ll be able to get out of hell?”

“You know, sometimes you seem like you could be a decent guy and then you go ahead and say stuff like that, reminding me that you’re an arsehole.”

I throw my head back laughing, surprised by the venom in her tone.

“I never said I wasn’t an arsehole, Miss Summers. But I’m not so sure I’ve ever been a decent guy. I think you must be confusing me with someone else. Maybe that loyal fiancé of yours?”

Her cheeks flare in anger but I ignore her, moving into my bedroom as I start to undo the buttons of my white shirt.

The fucking thing is ruined. Not only soaked through, but there’s blood on it from my kills and mud from chasing this little wildcat into the fucking pine forest.

Glancing down at my shoes, I sigh. My Aquillas are looking worse for fucking wear. I’ll have to see if Mabel can polish them up and see if they’re salvageable.

“You don’t know my fiancé. Stop talking about him like you do.” Jaxcen’s words gain my attention again.

“My apologies.” I turn and give a mocking bow to my guest, which just seems to infuriate her more, but as I reach the final button on my shirt and peel the fabric open, her fury seems to disappear.

Her lips part, her gaze searing as it rakes over my chest.

It’s like she’s in some sort of trance as she watches me ease the shirt off my shoulders and drop it to the floor. Next, I start with my belt buckle, undoing it slowly, waiting for her to protest, yet still she remains on the spot, watching like she’s hypnotised by what I’m doing.

I can see it now. The voyeur in her. The woman that goes to Cloud 9, one of Melbourne’s most exclusive sex clubs. I can imagine the mask she wears, probably covering the majority of her face, not willing to risk being recognised.

I imagine how tightly peaked her nipples would be under the white lacy bra I glimpsed beneath her soaked blouse earlier this evening. I bet her panties were soaked through, and not because of the rain.

What would she do if I walked up to her right now, hitched that pencil skirt up to her waist, and slid my hand into her panties?

Would I feel her absolutely saturated?

The thought has my cock stirring, and I lick my lips, so fucking tempted to find out just how slick Jaxcen Summers can get.

What would she do if I took my hardening cock out right now? Would she spin and gasp in horror? Or would she drop to her knees, desperate to wrap those pretty plump lips around my girth?

Slowly sliding my belt off, I drop it to the floor watching how she tracks the movement like it’s in slow motion. And then her gaze, dark and hungry, returns to where my hands are working down my zipper.

“Are you hungry, love? Would you like a taste?”