FALL IN LOVE WITH A BAD BOY

THE JEALOUS STREAK

Chapter 4

The Jealous Streak

Emma hadn’t meant to go looking for Jaxon tonight.

She told herself she was just out with friends, just unwinding after another long week. But as soon as she stepped into the crowded bar and her gaze landed on him, her entire body stiffened.

Jaxon sat at the far end of the dimly lit lounge, a whiskey glass in hand, his signature smirk in place. But he wasn’t alone.

A woman—tall, leggy, and effortlessly beautiful—was leaning too close, her manicured fingers sliding along his tattooed forearm, her ruby-red lips moving as she whispered something into his ear.

And he was letting her.

Emma’s stomach twisted, a sharp heat flaring in her chest. She had no right to feel this way. Jaxon wasn’t hers. He had made that perfectly clear—he didn’t do relationships, didn’t do emotions.

This was supposed to be casual.

So why the hell did it feel like someone had just poured gasoline over her skin and lit a match?

"Emma?"

Sadie’s voice barely registered. Emma’s nails dug into the wooden bar top, her pulse thudding wildly in her throat.

Jaxon must have felt her stare because, just then, his dark gaze lifted—locking directly onto hers.

For a second, everything stopped.

The bar, the music, the chatter around them—it all faded into the background.

And then, the bastard smirked.

Smirked.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he was waiting to see if she would break.

The woman next to him trailed a hand down his chest, leaning in even closer, and something inside Emma snapped.

She tore her gaze away, turning toward the bartender. "Tequila. Shot."

Sadie blinked. "Oh, this is bad."

Emma ignored her, throwing back the drink, relishing the burn as it slid down her throat.

She wasn’t jealous.

She refused to be.

But the second she turned back, Jaxon was suddenly there—right in front of her, moving through the crowd with predatory intent.

And when he reached her, he leaned down, lips brushing against her ear.

"You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart."

Emma whirled around, her heart pounding. "Excuse me?"

Jaxon’s gaze flicked down to her lips, then back up, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You’ve been glaring at me for the past ten minutes."

"I wasn’t glaring."

His smirk deepened. "Oh, you were. And I have to say, jealousy looks real f*****g sexy on you."

Emma clenched her jaw, heat crawling up her spine. "I don’t do jealous."

Jaxon let out a low chuckle, taking another step closer until their bodies nearly touched. "Then why do you look like you want to claw her eyes out?"

She hated how easily he could read her.

"You’re delusional," she said stiffly.

Jaxon reached out, fingertips ghosting over her wrist, and just like that, she was on fire. "You could’ve walked away, sweetheart. But you didn’t."

Emma swallowed hard. "Maybe I just wanted to see what kind of game you’re playing."

Jaxon’s expression shifted, something darker flickering in his gaze. "Oh, I don’t play games, Emma. I just take what I want."

Her breath hitched.

And then, before she could even process what was happening, Jaxon’s fingers curled around her wrist, and he was pulling her through the crowd—out the back door, into the darkened alleyway behind the bar.

The second they were outside, Emma shoved at his chest. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

Jaxon backed her against the brick wall, his hands bracing on either side of her head, caging her in. "Making a point."

Emma’s pulse thundered. "Which is?"

His gaze flickered to her lips. "That you don’t want casual, sweetheart. You want more."

Her throat went dry.

He was too close. Too warm. The scent of whiskey and sin wrapped around her, making it impossible to think straight.

"You don’t get to decide what I want," she whispered.

Jaxon tilted his head. "No? Then tell me to walk away. Right now."

Emma parted her lips—but no words came out.

Because she couldn’t say it.

Jaxon let out a soft, knowing chuckle. "That’s what I thought."

And then—he kissed her.

It was raw. Brutal. Desperate.

His mouth crashed against hers, all tongue and heat and unspoken emotion, stealing the breath from her lungs. There was nothing gentle about it.

This wasn’t romance.

This was possession.

One of Jaxon’s hands fisted in her hair, tugging her head back as he trailed his lips down the column of her throat. Emma gasped, gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

"You think I didn’t see you watching me?" he murmured against her skin. "You think I didn’t feel it?"

Emma let out a soft whimper as his teeth grazed her pulse point, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I hated it," she admitted before she could stop herself.

Jaxon groaned, palming her thigh and hitching it around his waist. "Good."

Emma gasped as his hips pressed forward, grinding into her, igniting a heat so intense it stole her breath.

"Say it," Jaxon demanded.

She shook her head, stubborn even now.

His hand slid under her dress, fingers trailing up her inner thigh, teasing, tormenting.

"Say it," he repeated, voice thick with need. "Say you want me."

Emma’s entire body trembled.

"Jaxon—"

His fingers found her, slipping beneath her panties, and every rational thought vanished.

"Say it, Emma," he growled.

She moaned, her head falling back against the wall, fire consuming her. "I want you."

Jaxon snapped.

In one swift motion, he spun her around, pressing her chest against the rough brick, his hands gripping her hips like he was staking his claim.

"You’re mine, sweetheart," he murmured against her ear. "And I’m about to remind you exactly why."

Emma didn’t know how much time passed.

All she knew was that when she finally caught her breath, her body boneless against the wall, Jaxon was still pressed against her, his lips tracing lazy circles along her shoulder.

"You drive me f*****g insane," he murmured.

Emma let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Good."

Jaxon grinned against her skin. "You’re trouble, Monroe."

She turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. "So are you."

He studied her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, just like that, the mask was back in place, and his signature smirk returned.

"I’ll call you," he said, stepping back.

Emma lifted a brow. "Will you?"

Jaxon chuckled, brushing a thumb over her bottom lip. "Yeah, sweetheart. I will."

And as he walked away, Emma realized something terrifying.

She wasn’t just playing with fire anymore.

She was already burning.