Dirty little secrets

11

~Ava~

I couldn’t sleep. Obviously.

Riley was out cold next to me, one arm flung over her face like she was personally offended by the ceiling fan, soft little snores mixing with the hum of the AC. My phone said 2:04 a.m. and my mouth tasted like leftover chocolate fudge brownie. I was still sticky from the ice cream, still buzzing from that stupid kitchen kiss, still mad at myself for kissing back like an i***t.

So I did the only logical thing: I slid out of bed, barefoot, no hoodie, just the oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts I’d thrown on after the first disaster downstairs, and crept to the kitchen for milk. Because milk fixes everything. Or at least it’s cold and it shuts your brain up for five seconds.

The house was dead quiet except for the fridge making noise like it was judging me. I opened the door, the light hit my face like a slap, grabbed the carton, didn’t even bother with a glass, just tilted it straight to my mouth like a feral teenager.

That’s when the stairs creaked.

I froze mid-gulp, milk dribbling down my chin.

Jax.

Of course.

He padded in barefoot too, wearing nothing but those same damn gray sweatpants that should be illegal in family homes. Hair messy, eyes half-lidded like he’d been trying to sleep and failing just as hard as me.

He stopped when he saw me.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, turned my back to him, and took another long swig like he wasn’t even there.

He opened the fridge anyway. Grabbed his own carton whole milk, because he’s a psycho and drank straight from it too. Mirror image. Mocking me without saying a word.

I set my carton down harder than necessary. “Night, asshole.”

I tried to walk past him toward the stairs.

He stepped sideways. Blocked me.

I glared up at him. “Move.”

He didn’t.

Instead he tilted his head, studying me like I was a math problem he hated solving. “You’re really gonna pretend nothing happened thirty minutes ago?”

“I’m really gonna pretend you don’t exist. Ever. Starting now.”

He laughed once, short and mean. “Cute.”

I tried again to slide past. He moved with me. We did that stupid dance for three seconds until I huffed and shoved at his chest. “Get out of my way, Jax.”

That was the wrong move.

His hand shot out, grabbed my wrist not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough I couldn’t pull free. Then he shoved me back, not rough, but sudden, my back hitting the wall next to the pantry door with a soft thud.

Milk sloshed in the carton still in my other hand.

I sucked in a breath. “What the hell ”

He stepped in close. Too close. Chest almost touching mine. I could smell him soap, that stupid body wash he uses.

He leaned down, nose brushing my hair, then lower, along my neck. Inhaling slowly. Like he was sniffing a wine bottle or a drug.

I squirmed. “Stop it. That’s weird.”

“You smell like chocolate and…. ,” he murmured against my skin. “My favorite combination.”

“f**k off.”

He didn’t. His free hand came up, slid under the hem of my shirt, fingers grazing bare stomach. I flinched.

He pressed closer, thigh slotting between mine, pinning me there.

“Jax… ”

“Shh.” He dragged his nose up the side of my throat again, slow, deliberate. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m pissed.”

“You’re wet.”

My stomach flipped. “I’m not… ”

He grabbed my free hand the one not holding the milk yanked it down fast, shoved it between my own legs, over my shorts.

I gasped.

His fingers wrapped around mine, forcing them to press against the damp cotton.

“Feel that?” he whispered, voice wrecked. “That’s you pretending you hate me.”

I tried to yank my hand back. He wouldn’t let go.

“Stop. ”

“Tell me you’re dry right now. Lie to my face.”

I couldn’t. Because I wasn’t.

He pulled my hand back up, slow, torturing. Held it between us, fingers glistening in the fridge light.

“Suck.”

I stared at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “You heard me.”

I should’ve slapped him. Should’ve screamed. Should’ve thrown the milk carton at his stupid perfect face.

Instead I opened my mouth.

He slid my fingers in. I tasted myself. Salty, sweet and humiliating.

His eyes went dark.

I sucked harder than I meant to. Just to piss him off.

He groaned low in his throat.

Then I pulled my fingers out with a wet pop, reared back, and slapped him across the face. Hard. The sound cracked through the kitchen like a gunshot.

His head snapped sideways.

Silence.

I froze, heart slamming so loud I thought it would wake the whole house.

He turned back slowly.

Smiled.

Not a nice smile. The dangerous one. The one that says I’m f****d.

“Do it again.”

“What?”

“Harder.”

I laughed, I actually laughed. “You’re insane.”

“Probably.” He leaned in closer, cheek still red. “Hit me again, princess.”

I stared at the mark I’d left. My handprint blooming on his skin.

Something twisted in my stomach, fear, maybe. Or something worse.

I slapped him again.

Louder this time.

He hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for half a second like it felt good.

I yanked my hand back, horrified. “What is wrong with you?”

He opened his eyes. “I like it rough. Always have.” A shrug. Casually . Like he was telling me he prefers pepperoni on pizza. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to deliver, though. Nice surprise.”

I shoved at his chest again. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah.” He caught my wrists this time, pinned them above my head against the wall. “And you’re soaked because of it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

I glared. He glared back.

Then he leaned in to kiss me.

I could feel his breath on my lips. Hot. Milk-scented. Furious.

And then…

A creak.

Loud.

From upstairs.

We both froze.

Footsteps. Slowly . Someone walking down the hall.

Jax let go of my wrists like they burned him.

I ducked under his arm, grabbed the milk carton off the counter, bolted toward the stairs.

He grabbed my elbow before I could make it.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked. “We’re talking.”

“About what? How you’re a freak?”

“About how you slapped me twice and liked it.”

I ripped my arm free. “Go to hell.”

I ran up the stairs, milk sloshing, heart in my throat.

The footsteps had stopped.

I peeked around the corner at the top.