I halted, seeing my mother standing a few feet away, carrying a tray of pies.
She wore a wispy, lavender summer dress and high heels, looking absolutely pristine with her hair curled and tied back in a low ponytail. Suddenly I was very aware of every inch of my sweaty skin.
I saw her eyes sweep up and down the length of me, taking in my appearance, and then her eyes narrowed like bullets. She didn’t say anything before she turned and walked away, back into the banquet hall.
I stood there, looking after her, trying to figure out what was going through her head. Did she really hate me so much?
Madoc and Adam had walked ahead, but I turned to Fallon and Shane at my side. “I don’t look inappropriate, do I?” I asked.
The corner of Fallon’s mouth turned up. “How do you feel?”
I looked down, amusement tickling my face. I wasn’t wearing anything special, but it was skimpy, slightly see-through with the slits on my back, and suggestive. The three terrible S’s.
“Loud,” I confessed. “I feel loud. Like everyone can hear me.”
“But comfortable?” she pressed.
I nodded. Yeah.
“Then that’s good enough,” she shot back. “You make your own rules, Juliet. Girls dress for others. Women dress for themselves.”
And those were the truest words I’d heard in a long time.
I liked being aware of my body.
“So, what’s it going to be?” Shane ran her fingers through her hair, flopping it to one side. “The Gravitron, the Tilt-A-Whirl, or the Kamikaze?”
I looked around and spotted a haunted fun house. My guilty pleasure.
“That.” I pointed to the small warehouse with a huge blowup dragon seated at the front entrance with its mouth open. It was a staple every year that I’d been here. You walk into the dragon’s breath and into the warehouse/converted fun house for the regular kind of carnival fare.
I led the way, Shane and Fallon giggling behind me as Adam and Madoc stayed behind with the water gun game.
We left the bright smells and sounds of the carnival, and I gasped at gusts of wind hitting my body as we stepped through the dragon’s mouth. Fans blew from several directions, cooling the light layer of sweat on my legs, stomach, and arms, and the fog machine rolled soft clouds around my feet.
Looking around, I inhaled the darkness, taking in the hot smell of dirt and depth. Kind of like being in a basement.
Juice from the Popsicle dripped on my hand, and I blinked, looking down and licking the sweet red stickiness from my hand.
The ceiling gave way, rising, and we entered the fun house.
Veering through the maze of clear plastic panels, I bumped into walls I didn’t see and laughed through turns I had to blindly hold my hand out to make sure were there. Sucking on my Popsicle, I wobbled across the bridge, through the spinning barrel, and across the plank with the neon carnival masks zooming past. My equilibrium was lost, and I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. I liked not knowing which direction to turn or which way was up.
My eyes moved everywhere, taking in all the sights, and I took my time, strolling into the haunted house part of the tour.
Biting off a piece of my Popsicle, I stepped up to the different displays around the large room. The lights cast a soft glow, and the little playhouses decorated with bare trees, gargoyles, and zombies almost made it feel like Halloween.
Almost. If not for the heat.
I heard laughter in the distance and twisted my head away from the cemetery scene to see that I was alone.
I lowered the Popsicle, licking my lips and darting my eyes all around me. Where were Shane and Fallon? The fun house hadn’t been busy. It never was, but …
I felt my heartbeat pounding harder, and my senses kicked into high gear. It was dark in here, I was alone, and …
Yeah. I circled the corner and climbed the stairs. If I remembered correctly, there was a slide that took you to the bottom level and exit.
Running up the spiral staircase, I speed-walked past the row of carnival mirrors, kicking up dust and dirt with my flip-flops as I jetted for the tunnel slide leading back to the outside.
But I didn’t make it.
Someone snaked an arm around my waist, and I screamed as he growled in my ear, “Did you think”—his hot breath scorched my skin—“that I was kidding when I said that there was no stopping, Juliet?”
Jax.
His hard chest pressed against my back, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe and threatened at the same time.
My heart thundered against my sternum, and my chest burned. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, pinching the Popsicle stick between my fingers, not caring that the juice was spilling down.
He ran his tongue from the bottom of my neck up to my ear and caught my lobe in his teeth. “I don’t know.” He sounded playful. “Do you want me to stop?”
I twisted my head, and the air between our lips charged with heat before he lifted his head, threaded his fingers through my hair, and covered my mouth with his. Cinnamon touched my tongue, and I pressed my lips into his, darting my tongue out to lick him.
Then his mouth left mine, and I blinked as he dropped to his knees, reached around to unfasten my shorts, and yanked them down, underwear and all, then sank his teeth into my flesh.
“Jax!” I yelped.
Oh, my God! We were in public! Shit!
He held my waist, kissing and biting my lower back and ass.
I groaned, a fucking inferno blazing between my legs. “Jax, Jesus,” I whimpered. “Someone could come in.”
He stood up, lifted me into his arms, and carried me to the wall, leaving my shorts in a pile on the dusty floor.
Planting me back on my feet, he reached down and lifted my shirt over my head.
He was still wearing his straight-leg black pants, sitting low but secured with a black belt. He had taken off his T-shirt, though, and it hung out of his back pocket, swinging against his leg as he moved.
Hovering over me, he stared down in what felt like a dare. “No one’s coming in.” And he flattened his hand on my chest and ran it slowly down, stopping to knead my breast, and I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back as he claimed it in his fingers.
“Your Popsicle’s melting.” His voice held a hint of humor. And then I watched wide-eyed as he brought my hand up, peeled the Popsicle stick away and licked all my fingers one by one.
Lowering his hand, he swirled my nipple in his mouth, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth with the shock. My already hard nipples puckered even more, and the cold juice in his mouth contrasting with the sweltering heat wave down below made for a nice cyclone in my stomach.
“You like that.” He sounded surprised. “Bet you’ll love this.”
And I grabbed his shoulders, digging my nails in when he slid the Popsicle between my legs, gliding it along my slit.
I moaned. “You’re such a little shit.” But holy hell, I loved it. “Please stop,” I begged.
He sank his lips into mine, molding our naked chests together, and I kissed him as if he were the last meal I’d ever eat. I held him close, going at him and rolling my hips into the Popsicle he still held there.
Fuck, I wanted him.
“I hated the idea that guy might touch you.” He slid the Popsicle in and out of my folds.
Oh, God. I squeezed my eyes shut. It felt so good.
I shook my head. “He didn’t touch me,” I gasped. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
He ignored the question as he continued kneading my hip and working the Popsicle.
“Jax,” I whispered into his lips. “You’re the one I think about.”
The next thing I knew the Popsicle was gone, and Jax was between my legs, licking up the red juice that had melted all over my skin.
“Oh, God.” I gripped his hair.
His lips sucked my clit, and I let him swing one of my legs over his shoulder as he ate me.
The dirt on the wall behind me ground into my back, and the heat burned my nostrils as I breathed hard.
“Jax, it’s so hot.” My hair was stuck to my neck and face. “Baby …” I fisted his hair harder, ready to ride his damn face if he didn’t give me what I needed.
He kissed my clit, my folds, my thigh where it met my hip …
“Your sweat …” He darted out his tongue, licking my hip and stomach. “Damn, you’re fun to play with.”
I swallowed and took my leg down. Gripping his ponytail at his scalp, I forced his eyes on mine. “I’m done playing.”
My eyes burned, and I didn’t know if it was from the ache of my * throbbing or knowing that his eyes, his tongue, or his fucking defiance was twisting me so hard and tight that I was ready to scream.
“Please. Fuck me,” I whispered. I could feel the wetness pouring out of me. I was ready. I needed this!
His eyes flared, and he, for once in his life, looked stunned.
His chest rose and fell in silence, but inch by inch, he rose to stand over me. My hands fell to his chest, and I held his eyes as he unfastened his belt. I smoothed his hair back above his ear, smelling tires and grease on him as he took out a condom and then let his pants fall to the floor, kicking everything off.
And I even held his eyes, sucking in a breath when he smoothed on the condom and lifted me, pressing my body into the steel wall behind me.
I hung off his neck, my head falling back as his nipple rings teased my breasts, and his lips bore down on mine.
“I want you,” I whispered. “I want your sweat on my skin, your tongue in my mouth, and your cock filling me up. Jax, I’m yours,” I rasped out, my throat dry. “I was only ever yours.”
He grabbed my neck, planting a hard kiss on my lips, and I gave it back full force.
And when he reached down between us and worked himself into my entrance and into my body, I pressed my lips to his so hard that I could feel his teeth cut into me.
“Oh, God,” I gasped and whimpered, my eyes squeezed shut and my whole body shaking as he sank into me, inch by hot inch.
“Ah,” I moaned, stilling and feeling him stretch me.
The searing heat shot through my womb and down my thighs as his steel thickness pushed deeper, and I let my head fall back as I clasped Jax’s neck with both hands.
We were joined, and I was on fire.
And I was his now.