Chapter 4
There's Still Only One Bed
Elena
By the time the snow stopped falling, I'd already come three times and threatened to kill Jax Hart at least twice.
Not necessarily in that order.
I stood in the kitchen wrapped in nothing but a too-thin robe, watching him cook bacon shirtless like he hadn't just used my body as a human jungle gym two hours ago.
His back flexed as he flipped a strip with a casual, one-handed flick of the wrist. Muscles rippled. Tattoos shifted.
I hated him.
I hated that my thighs were still sore and my n*****s tightened just looking at him.
I hated that I was considering going for round four before breakfast.
"Coffee?" he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder with that lazy, cocky smile. "Or are you more of a post-coital mimosa girl?"
"Is this your id
