Chapter 7 Chapter 7

E L E N A

Later that night, as we lay in the same bed with a noticeable gap between us, I felt a shift. The air was filled with all the things we hadn't said.

I was on my side, facing away from him, pretending to be asleep. I could feel the heat of his body despite our distance.

Then, I felt it. A feather light touch on my shoulder, trailing down my arm. His calloused and rough fingers were tracing the patterns of my own skin.

I held my breath, my entire body tensing. What was he doing?

His touch was soft. Something I’d never thought he could be. Something I’ve never felt from him. It wasn't possessive or angry. It was… exploring.

His fingers traced the curve of my hip, then down my thigh.

"Your scars," he whispered, his voice husky in the darkness. "I never noticed them before."

Of course he hadn't. He had never been this close. He had never taken the time to look. To really see me. Not the mere medic. Just… me.

"They're from a car accident," I said, my voice barely audible. "When I was twelve. I almost died."

His fingers stilled. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You never asked," I replied, a hint of bitterness in my tone.

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, he moved closer until I could feel the entire length of his body against my back. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips brushed against my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I'm asking now," he murmured against my skin.

"It was a long time ago," I said, my resolve crumbling. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," he said, his grip tightening.

I wanted to fight him. I wanted to push him away and tell him it was none of his business. But I didn't. I couldn't. For the first time in ten years, I was tired of fighting. Tired of hating him.

So I let him hold me. And for a little while, I let myself pretend that we were just two normal people, in a normal bed, in a normal world.

---

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. The space next to me was cold. He was gone.

I sat up, my heart pounding. Was he outside? Did he leave?

I grabbed my gun from the bedside table and crept out of the bedroom. The cabin was silent.

He was standing by the window, looking out at the forest. He was fully dressed, in the black jeans and t shirt Hawk had brought. He had a cigarette in his hand, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling.

"You're awake," he said, not turning around.

"I was worried you’d pussied out and run away." I said, my gun still in my hand.

He turned to face me, a flicker of something in his gray eyes. "And where would I go?"

I didn't have an answer for that.

He took a drag of his cigarette, then walked over to me. He stopped in front of me, so close I could smell the smoke on his breath.

"I'm not going anywhere, Elena," he said, crouching to my height. "You can’t get rid of me so easily."

And then he did something that completely caught me off guard. He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't a bruising kiss like I’d expect from a man like him. It was soft. Gentle. And damn well the best kiss I’ve ever had. His lips moved against mine with a tenderness I didn't know he was capable of.

I was so stunned that I didn't even move. I just stood there, my gun in my hand as he kissed me.

He pulled back, his gaze searching my face. "You didn't run screaming," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I'm impressed."

I was still too stunned to speak. My lips were tingling. My entire body was tingling.

He took the gun from my hand and placed it on the table.

"You won't be needing that," he said, his gaze dropping to my lips.

He leaned in again but this time, I stopped him with my hand on his chest.

"What are you doing, Jax?" I asked, my voice trembling. We were supposed to be on each other's neck. We were supposed to hate each other. What the fuck was this?

"What I should have done a long time ago," he murmured, his gaze dark and intense.

He didn't give me a chance to respond. He kissed me again, and this time I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

I could feel the hardness of his chest against my palms, the rapid beating of his heart. His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up and placing me on the kitchen table.

He settled himself between my legs, his body pressing into mine. I could feel him through the thin fabric of my shorts.

I arched my back, a soft moan escaping my lips as he kissed a trail down my neck. His hands roamed over my body, slowly exploring every curve and dip.

He grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it over my head, tossing it aside. He stared at my bare breasts, his gaze so hot.

"Perfect," he murmured, before lowering his head and taking one of my nipples into his mouth.

I cried out, my back arching off the table. He teased me with his tongue and teeth, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

His other hand slid down my stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts.

"Jax," I breathed, my hands fisting in his hair.

"I've got you, little bird," he murmured against my skin.

"Jax…" I whined, needing him to relieve the ache that was building inside me.

"Elena…? Elena? Elena!"

I jolted, my eyes flying open.

My face was pressed into the pillow, which was damp with something warm and wet. I drooled in my sleep. Mortifying.

And what’s worse? Jax was directly in front of my face, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

I scrambled into a sitting position, my face burning with embarrassment. How much did he see? How much did he hear?

"I… I was just dreaming," I stammered, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

"Oh, I know," he said, his smirk widening. "You were moaning my name. Quite loudly, I might add."

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. "I was not."

"Were too," he shot back. "You were also grabbing at my shirt. A lot. And whimpering. 'Jax, please,' you said. 'I need you, Jax.'"

I was going to die.

"It was a nightmare," I lied, my voice a squeak.

"Must have been a hell of a nightmare," he said, his gaze dropping to my breasts, which were still covered by the blanket. "You were breathing pretty heavily."

I threw a pillow at him. "Shut up!"

He caught it easily, laughing. "Easy, little doctor. No need to get your panties in a twist. Although, from the sounds of it, they were already in a twist."

I flopped back down on the bed, pulling the pillow over my head. "I hate you."

"You keep saying that," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "But your subconscious seems to have a different opinion."

I heard him get up and walk away. A few minutes later, the smell of coffee filled the cabin.

I finally emerged from under the pillow, my face still flaming. Jax was by the fireplace, a mug in his hand. He was watching me, a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't just amusement. There was something else there. Something that looked suspiciously like… desire.

"Want some coffee?" he asked, holding up a mug.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He walked over to the bed and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, and I felt that same jolt I always felt when he touched me.

"Thanks," I muttered, taking a sip.

We sat in silence for a while.

"Don't be embarrassed," he said, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "We all have needs."

I looked up at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

He leaned in, his face inches from mine. "No," he whispered, his gray eyes burning into mine. "I'm not."

Then, he leaned back and took a sip of his coffee, leaving me breathless and confused.

This man who I’ve spent ten years convincing myself I hated was slowly breaking down the walls I'd built around my heart.

And I was terrified.