Saving Axe Read online

  He didn’t move. And then a little smile, just the beginning of one, formed on his lips. “I didn’t hear you,” he said.

  The asshole.

  “Fuck. Me.” I said it again. I could feel my pussy throbbing around his fingers, waiting. Why wasn’t he already inside me? Why hadn’t he already ripped my jeans off me, thrust himself inside me?

  “You didn’t say ‘please,’” he said, leaning close to me, his breath hot on my ear. He pushed his fingers deeper inside me, and I nearly cried from frustration. “You didn’t beg.”

  I opened my mouth, fully intending to say “fuck you.” But, to my horror, I heard myself say, “Please.”

  I heard this sound come from his throat, this deep growl, and he covered my mouth with his, an animal devouring his prey. I pressed my body against him, desperate, wanting to be rid of my clothes. He yanked my shirt up over my head, threw it somewhere, and I fumbled, grasping at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up.

  And saw the scars, the rippled flesh where he had been burned. I paused, running my hands over his skin, my fingers registering the each little ridge and valley.

  "Cade," I said, the realization of what must have happened to him washing over me.

  He'd gotten a Silver Star after one of the deployments.

  He covered my hand with his, drew it away from his chest, shook his head. "Don't, June," he said.

  "But, I -" He thought I was going to say something trite, something stupid. He thought I would pity him.

  Cade shook his head. "Don't say a word."

  I ached to explore his body, to remember it with my fingers, but I wanted him hard, fast. Immediately.

  He pulled my jeans down farther, and I tried to kick off my shoes, step out of the fabric, muttering an expletive under my breath as they caught on my legs.

  “Let me,” Cade whispered, and he knelt to the ground, sliding the pants off with one hand as he leaned in and put his mouth between my legs.

  “Oh my God.” I tilted my head against the rock wall behind me, luxuriating in the warmth of Cade’s mouth on me. He brought me to the edge, and then, just as I was about to crash over it, stood up.

  He reached into his back pocket, and I barely registered what he had in his hand until he slid his pants down his thighs. I watched his cock spring free and he began to roll a condom on his length. I was delirious with lust, but the realization of what he had in his hand hit me. “What the hell?” I asked. “You brought a condom with you out here?"

  So he planned for this to happen.

  “Junebug, I’ve been carrying one with me every day since that first night I came to your house,” he said. “I've been waiting for you to decide what you wanted.” He paused, giving me that half-grin that had driven me crazy since we were kids, that cocky, shit-eating grin.

  “Now," he asked. "Is this what you want?”

  Was it what I wanted?

  My eyes drifted down his rippling torso to take in his nakedness, at his hardness begging for attention. If any other man had talked to me the way Cade did, with his stupid arrogant attitude, or stood in front of me, pants around his knees, unashamed in his nakedness, expecting me to just open my legs for him, I’d have told him to go to hell.

  But Cade? I hated myself for it, but I wanted him.

  “Yes.” I croaked out the words. “I want you.”

  He gripped my ass with both hands, pushed me hard against the rock wall, and entered me, in one swift motion, made easier by my slickness. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I melted into him, against him, as he kissed me again.

  His mouth on me, his cock inside me...it was at once familiar and new. I gripped his back, pulling him tighter against me as he moved inside me with short hard thrusts, bringing me higher and higher.

  He kissed my neck, then underneath my ear, this sensitive place that had never failed to turn me on when we were teenagers. It worked just the same as it had back then. He worked just the same as he had back then, the rhythm of his movements in sync with mine.

  “You feel so good, Junebug,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Good. He didn’t just feel good. He felt fucking amazing.

  Like holy shit, can’t remember why I wanted to have sex with anyone else good. Like, I didn’t want to ever stop having sex good.

  “Fuck, June,” he said. “Come with me.”

  I felt the wave of pleasure get bigger and bigger, until it overtook me, an orgasm so intense I swear I could feel it all the way down to my toes. I heard him cry out as he came inside me, but I was lost in my own pleasure, and it was only after I began to come down from my orgasm and peeled my face away from his shoulder that I realized how tightly I’d been clinging to him.

  “Sorry,” I said, looking down at his shoulder where I’d bit him, my teeth marks still imprinted on his skin like some kind of tattoo.

  I’d left my mark on him, that’s for sure, I thought. I can’t say it didn’t give me a smug kind of satisfaction, the idea of branding him like that.

  “I think I probably scratched the shit out of your back, too.” I said. But I wasn't sorry.

  Cade grinned, his face framed by chunks of hair falling forward. “Do you hear me complaining? Because if you hear me complaining, then you can apologize.”

  I smiled. “No, what I heard coming out of your mouth was definitely not complaining. In fact, if I had to, I’d say the ‘Fuck, June’ sounded a lot like begging.”

  “Me? Beg?” He winked. “Never.”

  Axe

  I laid on my back in June’s bed, her head in the crook of my arm, her hair splayed out onto my chest, listening to her breathe. She snorted a little as she inhaled, the same way she’d done when we were teenagers, almost a snore but not really. It was one of those things I remembered about her.

  Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?

  I remembered everything about being with her...how she felt, the taste of her sweetness on my lips, how she sounded when she came. And all the other things that didn't involve sex... She used to run her tongue across her lower lip when she was nervous, this silly thing she still did. She had hated it when we were kids and I first noticed it, but I couldn't help but point it out, since it made me holy shit hot for her every time she would do it. Without fail. She had no idea how seductive it was. And she hadn't abandoned the habit.

  It was strange being here, holding her, like going back in time or something. Or being in some kind of parallel universe where we were still together.

  Except that back then we wanted the same things. And now...

  We were on two different paths. She had moved here to stay, and I wasn't coming back.

  As much shit as I'd given her about not wanting a quiet life, about her wanting someone like me, someone living the kind of life I was living, I knew it wasn't good for her. It wasn't the right thing, saddling her with all of my shit.

  She was right to want peace and quiet.

  She was right to want a normal life.

  And there was no way in hell I was the kind of quiet life she was looking for. Shit, I was as far from that as you could get.

  I knew I was bad for her, and the fact that I still couldn't keep my hands off her made me the kind of guy who in no way could ever deserve her.

  What the fuck was wrong with me, going after her?

  There was still something about her that made my brain mush, that overrode my thoughts and took control of me. I could tell myself that I needed to stay away from her, that I was no good for her, and the minute I looked at her, all those thoughts would disappear. They'd be erased by some little thing she would do, that nervous thing she did with her lip, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how she scrunched up her nose when she laughed.

  I knew I couldn't have her, but I couldn't help myself. She was like some kind of an addiction. But the best kind.

  June shifted in her sleep, mumbling words under her breath, a constant murmur, not quite talking in her sleep, but almost. I wondered if she was dreaming about us.