He was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure I didn’t—things got a little out of control. Azi’s still in here and—”
I pushed myself up, rested against my elbow, and kissed his cheek. The warmth beneath my lips was a thing from heaven. “I love me some out of control.” I settled back down beside him, totally content. “We kind of got, um, preoccupied, but tell me what happened. How were you able to take back control?”
He sat up and pinned me with a smoldering grin. “No-can-do.”
“Why?” Alarm bells sounded, and I made a move to sit up, but he stopped me.
“Because…” He traced the line of my jaw down to my collarbone. “I’m still feeling preoccupied.”
…
Jax had taken his time and explored every inch of me in an attempt to cure his preoccupation. Eventually he found the cure, and holy crap was it a doozy. His idea of a remedy involved him covering my mouth, afraid my impassioned screams would alert management to our private little party. He’d been quite pleased with himself when he finished—as he should have been. The guy was amazing, and the things he could do with his hands? With his mouth? Some things should be illegal, or at the very least, registered as a form of physical warfare.
By the time he’d finished with me, I wasn’t sure I could walk, much less form a coherent sentence. We’d cleaned up and begrudgingly slipped into our clothes before curling back up on the bed and drifting off.
Now I was lingering in that place you go, somewhere between actually opening your eyes, and drifting deeper into dreamland. It felt much warmer in the room than it had before—and that was saying something. Almost like someone had turned on the heat and the blower was aimed right at my face.
I shifted—or, at least, tried. My arm wouldn’t budge. Jax must have rolled over in his sleep and pinned it to the bed. That, or he’d done it on purpose to keep me from escaping. Since my doing that was about as unlikely as rainbow shitting monkeys, I’d have to wake him up. I’d lost all feeling in the limb.
Without opening my eyes, I poked him. His chest, an arm? I wasn’t sure, but it was warm flesh—warm, human controlled flesh—and the thought sent a ripple of happiness through me. “Jax?”
“Mmmm,” he grumbled.
“Come on.” I poked him again. “We should get going.”
The bed jostled and I cringed. He’d gotten up. That meant I had to get up. Logically I knew we had to go, but I was so damn comfortable.
“I’m starving,” I said, opening my eyes. “We should stop—” The second my vision came into focus, it became impossible to move air in and out of my lungs. In fact, all bodily functions ceased. My muscles tightened, and every inch of me froze, paralyzed by the sight of the massive carnivus essentially straddling me.
Beside me, Jax groaned. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t opened his eyes. The movement had come from the beast. “How about you go get food and bring it back, and I’ll guard the room. Someone should make sure this bed doesn’t make a run for it.”
Above me, the carnivus was silent. Its lips were pulled back, teeth bared and ready to tear us apart. I didn’t know what to do. If I moved, it would strike. If I spoke again, it might strike. Shit. If I took another breath, it might strike. This had “no win” written all over it.
“We’re not alone, are we?” came Jax’s response to my silence. My answer was more silence. The thing was staring down at me. I didn’t dare flinch. “We’re okay, Sammy. Just…just give me a sec.”
Give him a sec? For what? To try reasoning with the thing? What the hell was he going to—
The carnivus shot sideways, off the bed and into the wall. I scrambled upright. Jax had kicked it. He grabbed my hand, grip like iron, and dragged me from the bed. I tried to keep up but tripped as he yanked open the door and barreled through.
An unholy howl split the air, and something inside the room shattered. The sound was followed by an explosion of wood and splinters as the beast emerged from the building. It crashed through the doorway and took pieces of the frame with it.
“Go!” Jax roared. He jerked me into motion again and almost ripped my arm from its socket. We raced toward Van’s car, but with about twelve feet to go, another carnivus landed smack in the middle of our path. We couldn’t go through it. There was no going back. So we detoured and raced for the wooded lot next to the motel.
“We can’t outrun them,” I huffed. I wasn’t in bad shape, but I couldn’t boast an athlete’s stamina, either. With the injuries Jax’s body had sustained in yesterday’s attack, this pace wasn’t going to last.
“I know,” he snapped. “I fucking know!”
We kept going, weaving between the trees and brush. Jax jumped over a fallen tree and landed gracefully on the other side, while I stumbled and face-planted in the dirt with a mouthful of leaves. He dragged me upright and kept going without missing a beat.
“Here.” He skidded to a stop in front of a large, spindly pine tree. “Go. Climb!”