Chapter 3

"Unless... are you actually jealous?" I whispered, tilting my chin up to look at him.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but the way his chest was heaving, the way his eyes were blown so wide and dark that the blue was almost swallowed by black, made my blood run hot.

I could feel the heat radiating off his massive frame, wrapping around me like a physical weight, and even though my wrist still throbbed from where he’d yanked me, I didn't want him to let go. I wanted him to lose his absolute mind.

For a second, the only sound in the cramped bathroom was the muffled, heavy bass of the frat party bleeding through the walls, and the ragged, uneven sound of our breathing.

Jaxson just stared down at me, his jaw ticking so hard I thought his teeth might crack, and I could practically see the war happening behind his eyes.

He was the captain, the golden boy, the guy who had everything under control, but right now, looking at him, I realized he was barely holding himself together by a single, fraying thread.

"You're a brat, Vane," he finally ground out, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register that sent a violent shiver straight down my spine. "A reckless, mouthy little brat who doesn't know when to shut up."

"Then make me," I challenged, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

That was all it took. The last of his restraint snapped, and before I could even draw in a breath, his hands were on me.

He grabbed the front of my mesh shirt and shoved me backward, slamming my spine against the cold, hard tiles of the bathroom wall.

The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, but before I could complain, his mouth crashed down on mine.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a collision, a desperate, bruising clash of teeth and tongues that tasted like cheap beer, mint, and pure, unfiltered aggression.

I let out a muffled groan, my hands flying up to grip his broad shoulders, my fingers digging into the thick fabric of his jacket.

He groaned into my mouth, a deep, feral sound that vibrated against my lips, and his hands moved from my shirt to grip my waist, his large palms burning right through the sheer mesh.

He squeezed hard, pulling my hips flush against his, and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me, the hard, thick ridge of his arousal pressing insistently against my stomach through his jeans.

"Fuck," he cursed against my lips, breaking the kiss just enough to drag his mouth down my jaw.

His stubble scraped against my sensitive skin, sending sparks of friction and heat straight to my core, and his teeth grazed the sensitive cord of my neck.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he muttered, his breath hot and wet against my skin. "Walking in here looking like a damn sin, letting those idiots look at you, letting them touch you."

"I wasn't letting him touch me," I gasped, my head falling back as his mouth trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my collarbone. My brain was completely short-circuiting, my thoughts dissolving into a hazy, white-hot need. "I was just..."

"I don't care what you were doing," Jaxson interrupted, his voice a dark, possessive rumble.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes blazing with a terrifying, beautiful intensity.

His thumb reached up, roughly swiping across my swollen, spit-slicked lower lip. "You don't let anyone else touch you, Jules. You hear me? You're mine."

The word mine hit me like a physical blow, sending a rush of liquid heat straight to my groin.

I didn't even try to argue, because in that moment, with his heavy body pinning me to the wall and his scent completely overwhelming my senses, I wanted to be his .

I nodded weakly, my fingers tangling in his short, sweat-dampened hair, pulling his face back down to mine.

This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and infinitely more devastating.

He parted my lips with his tongue, tasting me, claiming me, while his hands grew bolder.

He shoved my jacket off my shoulders, letting it drop to the tiled floor, and then his hands were under my mesh shirt, his rough, calloused palms sliding up my bare stomach.

His fingers traced the lean lines of my abs, his touch sending jolts of electricity straight to my dick, which was already straining painfully against the tight fabric of my jeans.

"Jaxson," I whined, the bratty facade completely melting away into pure, needy desperation. I arched into his touch, my hips bucking forward instinctively, chasing the friction.

"I've got you," he growled, his hands moving down to grip my hips, holding me still while he ground his heavy, aching length against me. "I've got you, rookie. But you're going to be quiet, because if anyone hears you, I'm done for."

He reached down, his hand wrapping around both of our waists, and with a rough, impatient tug, he undid the button of my jeans.

The sound of the zipper sliding down was deafening in the small room, and when his hot hand finally slipped inside my underwear, wrapping firmly around my aching length, I threw my head back and bit down hard on my own lip to keep from screaming.