sleep.with the devil
1047 Words
Night came fast.
The Viper Kings' compound settled into a slower rhythm, bikes cooled, the booze drained,and women stumbled upstairs on the arms of patched brothers. The storm outside rolled in thick and heavy, thunder cracking like God was watching and didn’t like what he saw.
Ivy sat on the edge of Jax’s bed, collar still fastened around her throat.
He hadn’t touched her since the kiss.
Hadn’t looked at her the same, either.
There was something quiet in him now, something simmering and it was not anger and not lust either.
It was something darker.
He stood at the far side of the room, his shirt off, his tattoos flickering under lightning flashes. He was cleaning a pistol on the dresser, methodical, and precise. Every movement made the muscles in his back shift and flex, like a panther ready to pounce.
“You gonna just sit there staring, or speak?”
“I didn’t say I was staring,” she muttered.
“You didn’t have to.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You breathe louder when you’re turned on.”
Her face flushed.
Asshole.
She looked away. “Why do you even have a collar like this?”
“It was my mother’s.”
She blinked. “What?”
His smile was humorless. “Kidding, little lamb. It’s used for play, or punishment it depends on the girl.”
“Which one am I?”
He turned, his gaze sharp. “Ask me that again when you’re naked under me, trembling and wet, and I’ll tell you.”
Ivy swallowed hard.
She hated that her thighs clenched at his words.
“Why me?” she asked quietly. “You could have let me leave. You could’ve used my sister as leverage, or”
“I don’t use people I want to protect.”
She blinked. “Protect?”
His voice dropped, more serious now. “Your sister saw something she shouldn’t have. That’s why she’s being held. And You? You came into the lion’s den with claws out. That takes balls, and stupidity. And I happen to like both.”
“Did someone hurt her?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you going to tell me why she was even with a biker to begin with?”
His jaw clenched.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he came closer, towering over her as he slid the gun into the drawer and sat beside her on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Only the rain pounding the windows.
Then, softly....
“Ghost wasn’t supposed to take her,” he said. “He was aiming for someone else. She got in the way.”
“Someone else?”
He met her gaze.
And for the first time… she saw pain.
Real, raw pain.
“I was supposed to meet with their VP,” he said. “for peace talk and truce. I sent someone in my place so they thought I had gone soft and weak. So they made it personal.”
“And now Mia’s paying the price.”
His fingers brushed her collar. “Now you are.”
Ivy’s breath caught.
Her voice trembled. “What happens when the week is over?”
He looked at her like she was asking about the end of the world.
“I don’t let go of things I’ve marked.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get.”
Suddenly, lightning struck just outside the window, and the power flickered.
Then died.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Ivy jumped. “Shit.”
“Relax,” Jax murmured. “Power grid’s old. Storm kills it sometimes.”
He reached into the drawer and pulled out a Zippo, flicking it open with a soft click. The tiny flame danced between them, casting golden light across his face.
“Come here,” he said softly.
She hesitated.
But her body didn’t.
Ivy crawled onto the bed, legs folding beneath her, until she sat in front of him, they knees brushing.
“You’re not scared of me?” he questioned
“No.”
“You should be.”
“You keep saying that.”
He leaned in.
“You keep proving me right.”
And then… he reached up, slowly, and unhooked the collar from her throat.
She gasped, surprised.
But he didn’t toss it aside.
He held it in his hand, rubbing the leather like it meant something.
“I wanted to own you,” he said. “Still do. But I won’t put that collar back on until you ask for it.”
Lightning flashed again and thunder rolled.
And Ivy?
She had no idea why her chest hurt.
Why her eyes burned.
But she wanted to touch him. Not out of lust, but need. Connection. Her fingers reached out, brushing the scar that curved just beneath his ribs.
He flinched.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“Got jumped, shot and fortunately lived.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
She touched another along his shoulder, it was old and jagged. Then one on his bicep. Then one that trailed down his hip, disappearing under his jeans.
Every scar was a story.
Every mark a memory.
“You’re covered in battles,” she whispered.
He looked at her, and in that moment, he didn’t look like the devil.
He looked like a man made of fire and ash, stitched together by rage and regret.
His voice cracked.
“You still want to sleep in my bed?”
She nodded.
He laid back, pulling her with him. She curled against his chest, her fingers still on his skin, her legs tangled with his. His warmth surrounded her. His scent consumed her. No lust. No force. Just… Jax.
She thought he would fall asleep fast.
But hours passed, and neither of them moved.
Then, just as she began to drift
Boom.
Gunfire outside.
Jax was up instantly, yanking on jeans, grabbing the pistol.
He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes burning.
“Stay here. Do not f*****g move.”
Then he was gone.
And Ivy?
Ivy grabbed the knife.
Because if he thought she would sit still while the devil’s house burned, he didn’t know her at all.
- Writer
