THE ADDICTION BEGINS
806 Words
Chapter 3
The Addiction Begins
Emma woke to the scent of leather, whiskey, and him.
The silk sheets beneath her felt cool, but the heat of Jaxon’s body still lingered on her skin. Her thighs ached deliciously, a reminder of how he had taken her—how he had claimed her with a reckless, unrelenting hunger.
She should have felt regret. She should have slipped out of his bed, dressed, and left before he woke up.
But instead, she found herself turning toward him.
Jaxon lay on his stomach, one arm draped over the pillow, the tattoos on his back and shoulders stark against his tanned skin. His face, usually sharp with arrogance, was softened in sleep.
Emma swallowed hard. This was dangerous.
She’d never been the type to fall into meaningless flings. But as she traced the faint stubble on his jaw with her eyes, she knew there was nothing meaningless about last night.
And that terrified her.
Before she could untangle herself from the sheets, Jaxon shifted. His eyes fluttered open, dark and unreadable as they landed on her.
A slow smirk curved his lips. "You’re still here."
Emma stiffened. "I was just about to leave."
Jaxon stretched, the movement making his muscles ripple. He was so effortlessly male, so confidently in control of himself, that it made her insides twist.
"Why?" he murmured, reaching out and running a thumb over her bottom lip.
Her breath hitched. "Because this was just a one-time thing."
Jaxon let out a soft chuckle, his fingers trailing down her arm, making her skin prickle with awareness. "You think that’s how this works?"
Emma swallowed hard. "That’s how it has to work."
Jaxon propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze locking onto hers. "I don’t do relationships, sweetheart."
Her stomach twisted. Of course, he doesn’t.
"I know," she said quickly, forcing a cool tone. "Neither do I."
Jaxon studied her for a beat, as if assessing whether she really believed what she was saying.
Then, just like that, the heat in his gaze shifted.
"Good," he murmured, brushing a kiss along her collarbone. "Because I’m not done with you yet."
Emma should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that this was dangerous, that getting tangled up with a man like him would only end badly.
But when his mouth found hers, her body made the decision for her.
Emma didn’t expect to still be in Jaxon’s penthouse nearly an hour later, standing beneath the steaming water of his high-end shower, her hands braced against the tiled wall.
But here she was—breathless, drenched, and utterly at his mercy.
She hadn’t even planned on staying. She had just been gathering her clothes when Jaxon had cornered her, his eyes dark with something primal.
"Shower with me," he had said.
She had meant to say no. Truly.
But then he had kissed her. And just like that, she had found herself pressed against the cool glass, hot water cascading over their bodies as Jaxon’s hands explored her.
His fingers trailed down her back, teasing, before sliding lower.
"You should leave," he murmured, his mouth trailing kisses along her shoulder. "But you don’t want to, do you?"
Emma gasped as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her against his hard, slick body.
"Jaxon—"
His fingers brushed between her thighs, stealing her breath.
"Say it," he demanded.
She didn’t want to leave. She wanted more. More of his touch, more of his control.
"Don’t stop," she whispered.
Jaxon groaned, his lips capturing hers in a searing, possessive kiss.
And then—he ruined her.
Right there, under the hot spray of water, he pressed her against the cold tile and took her with a slow, devastating intensity, his body moving against hers like he owned every inch of her.
It was reckless. It was madness.
And Emma had never wanted anything more.
Later, as she stood in front of his mirror, wrapping herself in one of his towels, reality hit her like a freight train.
She wasn’t supposed to want him like this.
Not just his body—but him.
She turned to find Jaxon watching her from the doorway, freshly towel-dried, his expression unreadable.
"You’re thinking too much," he murmured.
Emma tightened her grip on the towel. "I should go."
Jaxon leaned against the doorframe, his gaze dark and knowing. "So go."
Emma’s fingers clenched.
He was challenging her. Testing her.
She should walk out that door.
Instead, she asked, "Will I see you again?"
Jaxon smirked, stepping forward and gripping her chin, tilting her face up to his. "Sweetheart, you were never just a one-time thing."
Her stomach plummeted.
Because she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.
She had let him pull her back in.
And there was no escaping Jaxon Wilder now.
- Writer
