Eternal Embrace Page 2

  If she wants me.

  “Fuck!” He punched the wall by his head, and cursed again when his knuckles cracked against the solid stone. “When the hell did you start thinking in circles?”

  What’s wrong with me?

  He looked down at Joey and knew. She was what was wrong with him. Had she eased even more? Was her colour getting better? “What the hell am I going to do with you?” he snarled, more to himself than her.

  “Jaxon?”

  The softly spoken word shut him down, cut his rant in mid-blow and stalled him where he stood. Joey.

  Will she hate me now?

  Something woke Joey, a warm wetness on her face that only slowly did she realise were her tears. Startled, she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling filled with Romanesque architecture.

  She heard a voice grumbling close by, then cursing.

  Jaxon?

  The knowledge that somehow she was in Jaxon’s home and in his bed—naked—slowly seeped into her consciousness. She sat up, the silk sheet slipped down and she gripped it tight to her throat.

  Jaxon stood with his back to her. He was shirtless. He felled her, completely, utterly knocked her on her butt with how sexy he was. Broad-shouldered, with that lean, cut back of a man who could lift the world on his shoulders and barely break a sweat. He had curled her toes with just his sexy smile, let alone all those perfect muscles driving her to orgasm after orgasm. Jaxon looked like Hugh Jackman wished he could look. So sexy, he had only to breathe and she wanted him—wanted him to the degree that she’d slept with him, then cried herself sick when he’d sneaked out after leaving her alone in his bed.

  “Jaxon?”

  He spun around, and the complete look of shock on his face did odd, very odd things to her chest she’d think about later. Right now, she was going to kill him. Had he spiked her drink? Her limbs were weak and woozy, as if she’d had one too much tequila the night before, but when she tried to remember the club, all she could remember was the one drink, then…nothing.

  His startling blue eyes widened, then he winced and held his hands high as if to ward off her temper. A bit of his dark silky hair fell in his eyes and he jerked it off with a quick snap of his head.

  “Joey, darlin’, I know this looks bad, I mean, I don’t want you to get upset, but I have to—”

  Darling? The jerk had spiked her drink. Jax was many things, but using ‘darlin’’ on her was low.

  “You complete bastard! How could you? You gave me a roofie! What kind of creep are you?” She fought with the covers, managed to drop them twice, and ignored the sound of his sudden indrawn breath. Now he appreciated her naked? What about before when he’d walked—no—sneaked out and stayed gone? For weeks! She wrapped the sheet around her body like a toga and glared at him when she tripped over the ends of it trying to get off the bed and he jumped to help her.

  “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  “Joey, easy, come on—”

  “Don’t. You’re lucky I don’t call the cops on you. Did you think you could just sneak out on me, disappear for weeks, yell at me for being in a club—and by the way, it’s a free country, you know? And now, now you’ve obviously dropped something in my drink—” She broke off when he fixed his blue eyes on her with a truly frightening glower, but raced on quickly so he didn’t know how freaking hot that look was. “Geesh! I don’t understand you, I mean why do that? Do you get your rocks off with passed-out women?”

  His face flushed and she lost her train of thought when his shoulders and chest muscles did some odd bunching and flexing, but she managed to drag her eyes off the display and zero in on his pissed-off look. What right did he have to be angry with her? She was the naked one—in his bed.

  “Whatever, not like you hit the Richter scale the first time.” Lie. He’d nearly killed her with such amazing, life-changing sex. She wanted to do things to the man that she knew were illegal in most of the countries of the world.

  His shoulders shot up with both his dark eyebrows. “What? Settle the fuck down, Joey, before you choke on such stupidity—”

  “Stupidity?” She jumped down from the bed, hating how small she was. If she’d been bigger, she’d have decked him. As it was, she just might anyway. “Whatever.” She held a hand out and he stopped half a foot from her. “I’m outta here.”

  “Like hell you are. I need to explain—”

  “Oh, I bet you do, but guess what? I don’t have the time and you don’t have the dime.”

  “Fuck, when did you turn into such a smart ass? I just—”

  “Gah! Stop, would you?” She spun around, startling them both when she hit his bare, sexy chest. Of course, he had a mouth-watering, flat slab-of-muscle chest with just enough hair to make her breasts tingle in memory of how hot his body had been on top of her. He also sported an eight-pack. Who does that? Has that many tight, hard muscles?

  It should be illegal. Truly.

  “Back up!”

  He stumbled back, looking so outraged it would have been comical if she didn’t want to jump on him and kiss him silly. Or slap him. At six-foot-four or so, he towered over her and as hot as that was, right now she wanted his handsome face just a few feet closer to her so she could slap him. When did you turn into such a bruiser? When he’d shown her all she’d been missing in her life, then ripped it out from under her nose before she could grab on and never let go.

  “Joey—”

  She ignored how just hearing her name from his sexy lips made her want to forgive him everything, or knock his head off. Confusing. He confused her, made her crazy with dreams and ideas, then shoved her into complete disarray with his sneaky departure. She hated wondering why someone did something. She never did that shit, but with Jaxon, she’d tried until she’d needed alcohol just to stem the flood of excuses she’d dreamed up for him.

  He settled his hands on his hips like he was large and in charge, and she settled on doing him bodily harm if he so much as touched her.

  “You’re going to have to slow the hell down and listen to me for a minute, wildcat! You were in trouble, I need to explain—”

  “Stop!” She stalked off in search of her clothes and spotted her skirt and top folded on a chair.

  “Joey, stop, you need to slow down and let me explain things.”

  When she ignored him and marched over in her toga sheet to her clothing, he growled out a nasty swear word and demanded, “Why did you go to that club? I told you—”

  “If I were you, I’d not go there right now.”

  She swung her hair out of her eyes and glared over her shoulder at him. How dare he bring up how he’d grabbed her out of that club like some jealous angel, only to shove her in a cab and head back inside? Without her?

  He stalled out as if she’d shocked him. She probably had. She barely recognised her own pissed-off voice. He brought out things in her no one else ever had. Feelings of love and lust she’d sworn she’d never let rule her life. And now, it seemed, hurt and anger. She wanted him to the point of pain. She’d never wanted another man the way she yearned for Jaxon. She’d put herself out there for him. And when she did, he’d done what? Fucked her and left.

  Now she seemed to be throwing herself out there in the fighting ring—another first for her. She didn’t get involved in pissing contests, or in verbal warfare. That kind of thing was for women who didn’t understand that you couldn’t force someone to love you by arguing with them. Like her mother.

  “I… Joey, look, darlin’, just calm down and let me explain. I wanted to keep you out of that club—”

  “Yes, I got that when I interrupted your blonde-fest. How did that go, by the way? Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella forgive you for having to dump me in a cab?”

  She frowned when he looked away, almost as if she’d embarrassed him, or he’d embarrassed himself. But why? Why would that bother him? He’d been clear enough with her. Look, Joe, we had fun, right, but this is a club for a certain kind of woman.

  Women not like
her. Beautiful, tall Victoria’s Secret women, obviously.

  “Joey, I had you leave to protect you. You’ve got to listen to me—”

  “No, no, I don’t.” She centred her gaze on him and exhaled, already weary of the verbal sparring match. Angry wasn’t her norm. She made certain her life was full of fun, not turmoil and drama. She’d thought Jaxon shared that with her. Looking at him now, the anxious, oddly concerned expression he wore, as if what he said mattered, as if she mattered, confused her.

  He anchored his fists on his lean hips and gave her one heck of a manly stare down. Her toes wanted to curl, the traitors.

  “I was protecting you. I’m trying to—”

  “From what? Seeing the two blondes? I saw them with you when I first walked in and yet I ignored you while you couldn’t seem to get it on with me there. It wasn’t like I was asking for a playback, Jax. You could have just had your fun with the women, who was I to say shit about that? No one, obviously.”

  The concern in his expression faded with each of her words, replaced with a look that any other time might scare the piss out of her, but with her own anger and hurt boiling up it made her smirk. He looked ready to choke as if everything she said made him want to strangle her.

  “It wasn’t like that—”

  She waved his denial off with a hand. “It looked like that from the little lap dance you were getting.”

  “Fuck! Joey that was show, just show, a cover. I never touched those girls. I—”

  “Ah! God, don’t. I mean, come on.” She threw her hand up, almost lost her sheet and gripped it tighter to yell at him some more, because hell if it didn’t feel good. “Stop! I get it, really. Men need variety and all that. I mean, what was wrong with me looking for the same? Were you afraid I’d lose in the Jell-O pit and end up with one of those hot bouncer dudes? Did that bother you for some insane reason? I mean, I can get that, I guess—”

  “You don’t get shit!” he bellowed, nearly stopping her heart. If he freaked her out, he definitely shocked himself. He tugged his dark hair off his brow, shaking his head after, and tried several times to say something before he muttered, “Shit, sorry, I suck at this.”

  He looked so distressed she sank down on the chair. What was going on? She didn’t know, and now she was even more confused. She’d known him for months—really not very long, but those months meant a great deal to her. He’d come in and talked to her, not making a move, but chatting with her and seeming to enjoy her company. For weeks he’d let the sexual tension brewing between them reach a point when they finally did move on it, they fell into each other’s arms. She’d even thought he was the one. The one guy in this world she’d never dreamed existed. Her other half and all that candy-coated crap.

  When the silence went on and on, she finally cleared her throat.

  Jaxon jerked as if she’d shouted at him again. “Joey, I just—”

  When he halted again, looking miserable and unable to go on, she let go of the anger and spoke from the heart. “Why? Why did you do it? There are so many women in London—so many more beautiful women.” He snorted as if she’d said something ridiculous but didn’t look at her. Still, the sound gave her heart a little jolt of courage. “Explain. So many women want sex and nothing more out there. Why did you pretend to be interested in me, in…more—for months! Why do that, if you never were?”

  He looked up at her slowly—simply stared at her for so long she got nervous enough to turn away—unsure of why she’d even said something like that to him. Revealed something like that to him.

  “I never pretended shit,” he finally said.

  When she glanced at him for his seething tone, he looked even more pissed off, but also oddly nervous. He shoved both hands through his hair, and she grew weak in the knees seeing how his cut stomach hardened all the way down to that v at his hips. The bulge under his low jeans wasn’t a joke either. Jaxon was hung, so big and thick she’d known exactly what it was to be branded by his possession. She’d sworn for days afterwards she’d still been able to recall every thick inch of him filling her so perfectly. Even now she grew wet just thinking of him unbuckling his belt and—

  “Joey, we have some serious shit to discuss here.”

  Her eyes jerked back to his face, reading the concern on his expression. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. His brown hair was nearly black it was so dark, but the hair on his face grew in even darker, making her shiver with the need to experience the touch of his jaw, all rough like it was now, against her breasts.

  “I thought we were,” she replied, not liking how her voice sounded choked up.

  Jaxon erased the distance between them before she could do more than tense.

  “We are.” He gripped her shoulder and squeezed lightly. The contact made her ache with memories of his hands doing much more. His blue eyes were bloodshot, she noticed, tight too, almost as if he’d not slept in days. He had stubble on his jaw that looked ages old, as if he’d not shaved in a week. “I fucked up, but I’m trying to make amends here, Joey. No one spiked your drink that I know of, but you were…” He paused and her heart started beating so hard adrenaline rushed her system. “Darlin’, someone attacked you. I got you out, but there are…complications.”

  “Someone attacked me?” Her body hurt, as if she’d hit something or fought against someone much stronger. Her chest hurt, and her leg ached. She felt a bit battered, but really, not enough to make her worry. Until now. She didn’t remember anyone hurting her though. “I was…” She couldn’t finish, because the pain suddenly grew too tight and hard in her stomach. Jaxon’s light eyes darkened as she froze in shock. He gently touched her jaw and traced her lips with the pad of his thumb.

  “Nothing like that—you weren’t raped, I mean.”

  I wasn’t raped. What else would have him so hesitant to explain? She could see it now, how he’d stalled out—not because he’d tricked her here. Jaxon wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t his style, she knew that now her temper had settled down. But something had him tiptoeing around and that scared her.

  “What…” She swallowed and tried again. “What are you trying to say?”

  He squeezed her hand in his bigger one, and the lines around his eyes whitened out against his natural colouring. “Do you remember?”

  “No, no, I just…” She paused as a warmth started to spread in her chest, almost as if she had eaten too many hot peppers with her pizza. “I don’t feel very good right now.”

  His face slowly blanched and his grip on her turned almost painful.

  “What? What is it?” His alarm freaked her out. The night a man had tried to drag her into an alley came back, along with the image of Jax diving in to knock the man on his butt. The guy had carried a knife too, a big, long, deadly-looking blade, but Jaxon had hauled the guy off her as if he weighed nothing. She’d never seen a man jump to her rescue before—heck, she’d never needed one until Jax had swooped in like Superman—but he’d saved her with such complete lack of fear and such easy strength that his reaction now scared her. He looked scared. Jax scared wasn’t good. Not good at all.

  “Joey,” he murmured, sounding so sincere, she dug her nails into her palm to keep from crying. He ducked his head and of all things, rested his forehead on her shoulder. As if for support. From me?

  “Jaxon…you’re freaking me out.”

  “Just hear me out. I tried to help,” he said, lifting up to meet her eyes with such sincerity she felt tears rush her eyes.

  “Jax, you’re really scaring me.”

  He grimaced, but the intensity didn’t leave his face. “I tried to keep this from you. Can you trust me? Now, after what I did?”

  She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. This was bad. Very bad. This went beyond him sneaking out on her. This went beyond her seeing him with those bozos. This was…bad. Jaxon had never spoken so gently. He was arrogant, self-confident in the extreme and intelligent in a sharp, quick way that thrilled her, but gentle, soft-spoken? Not th
e Jax she knew. Even the night he’d finally made love to her, he’d been in charge, confident and so hot she’d thought at times that she could feel him surrounding her and filling all her empty places.

  “Joey, this is serious.”

  A sharp, unexpected stab of pain pulsed under her ribs, like a cramp heading straight for her heart.

  “What the hell?” She grabbed hold of him, and shuddered as another unexpected bout of pain shot from her toes all the way to the top of her head. All of a sudden, she felt sick to her stomach. Her cheeks grew wet in that way that meant she was going to hurl, and she shoved out of Jaxon’s arms.

  “Oh, God, oh God, I’m going to be sick,” she groaned, fighting the instinctual need to gag. If she was going to cast up, she wasn’t doing it on his lap. The pain in her chest hit again and her knees gave out. Jax grabbed her in his arms, stopping her fall.

  “I got you. I have you, just breathe.”

  She barely comprehended Jaxon’s rough curse, followed by his surprisingly gentle arms and hard, solid chest against her cheek.

  “Just hold on for me, okay? Hold on to me, okay?” he demanded.

  Another shot of agony proved that the ones before had only been teasers. This one left her panting. Sweat covered her body, making her shiver from the air touching her skin.

  “I think we agree on something finally,” she whispered.

  His dark eyebrows lowered and his blue eyes filled with worry.

  “This is pretty serious,” she managed.

  Another flush of heat swelled along her stomach and she swallowed, abruptly aware she wasn’t going to be able to hold back from spewing. She managed to swing her head away from Jaxon, but couldn’t do more, as everything she’d ever eaten in her life chose that moment to forcibly exit her body.

  Chapter Two

  “This is so not good,” Joey whispered brokenly.

  Jaxon held her as tightly as he dared. Inside he was a wreck. She shouldn’t shift to a vampire—not without the blood exchange from her maker. But she was shifting and he had less than a minute now to explain to her what was happening.