Jaxson Vane

The party was loud, but the tension in the kitchen was louder. Your best friend had gone to get more ice, leaving you alone with Jaxson. He didn't waste a second. He moved with a sudden, violent grace, pinning your wrists above your head against the refrigerator. "You’ve been avoiding me all night," Jaxson hissed, his face inches from yours. The scent of expensive tequila and raw desire was intoxicating. "Every time I lean over to kiss her, I see you flinch. You hate that it’s her, don't you?" He let go of your wrists only to grab the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing against your skin. The sound of your friend’s laughter echoed from the hallway, getting closer. Jaxson didn't flinch. He leaned in, biting softly at the sensitive skin of your neck, his voice a dark, jagged whisper. "S