on the roots of my hair, the way he tastes, like he just ate a mint. He smells wonderful, too, like cologne and maple syrup.
As he deepens the kiss, our tongues tangling, the sensations start to blur. But not in a bad way. No, they intensify as my pulse pounds and my skin warms. And when he bites down on my lip, I damn near lose my mind. A moan fumbles from my lips as I reach out to grab something and end up clutching his sides.
He tenses, his body stiffening, and I think about the scars on his body, wondering if maybe he doesn’t want me touching him right there. Then a shaky breath slips from his lips, and he starts kissing me slowly. So, so slowly, to the point where I feel every swipe of his tongue against mine, every soft tug of my hair, the heat of his body, the throbbing of my heart. Then, much to my dismay, he’s pulling back.
When I open my eyes, I find that his are still closed.
“I need to slow down,” he murmurs, but I’m not sure if he’s speaking to himself or me. Then he opens his eyes and gives me a meaningful look. “I … I think I’m in deep shit.”
Okay, that so wasn’t what I thought he was going to say.
“Because you broke the rules?” I ask but don’t wait for him to answer. “Because, if so, no one has to know. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to say anything, since I’ll get punished, too. So, unless you’re planning on gossiping about it, we’re good.”
The corners of his lips twitch. “I’m not going to gossip about it. But that’s not why I’m in deep shit.”
“Oh?” My brows furrow. “Then why are you?”
“Because …” He untangles his fingers from my hair and skims the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. “I just am.”
“You’re being vague.”
“I know. But trust me; right now, it’s probably a good thing.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you on that.”
“Sorry,” he says, making no effort to explain.
He sketches the pad of his thumb along my lip some more before lowering his hand and reaching for the door handle. “Come on, beautiful raven; let’s go inside before we get busted.” With that, he opens the door and climbs out, leaving me to wonder what the hell he meant; why he thinks he’s screwed. And also leaving me feeling a bit wounded, as if his kiss pushed some sort of emotional button inside me.
So much for the kiss not meaning anything.
But I do what I do best and shove those feelings down.
Bury them along with the rest of the crap I refuse to feel.
Raven
By the time Hunter and I make it near the doorway, Jax has stepped back into the garage. Suspicion is written all over his face as he glances from me to Hunter. I resist the urge to cover my lips, as if he can actually look at them and tell I’ve been kissing Hunter.
Jax stays in the doorway as Hunter makes his way past him. Jax looks at him, his expression neutral, and Hunter goes rigid, but neither of them say anything. Then Hunter walks into the house, glancing at me briefly before he does.
Jax stays where he is, his gaze traveling back to me as I move to walk into the house, too.
“You and I are going to have a talk,” Jax says.
I pause. “About what?”
He crosses his heavily inked arms, strands of his inky black hair hanging in his eyes. “The rule you broke with Hunter.”
“Oh.” Which time? “Are you gonna kick me out of you guys’ group?” Do I even care?
Yeah, okay, I kind of do, and that scares me.
Instead of answering me right away, Jax considers my question for an unnerving amount of time, his gaze never wavering from mine. It’s kind of intimidating, but I don’t let on. I steadily carry his gaze.
“No,” he finally says. “But there’s going to be consequences for your actions.”
Great. Why did I agree to be in their group again?
Oh yeah, because I’m apparently desperate for friends … if that’s even what we are.
“What sort of consequences?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder, his gaze never wavering from mine. “That’s for me and Zay to decide.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he places a finger to my lips, something he does a lot, and yet it never gets any less annoying.
“When you agreed to the rules of being in our