He gives it to me, his mouth moving against mine, his tongue stroking along my bottom lip until, finally, I find the strength to let him go.
I pull back, open my eyes slowly, and find Jaxon staring down at me, his dark gaze filled with so much emotion, I don’t know whether to laugh or weep.
“No one’s going to hurt you again, Grace,” he whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back. “You made sure of it.”
Surprise glows in the depths of his obsidian eyes. “I didn’t think you believed—” He breaks off as the ground rumbles beneath our feet.
“We should get under the doorway,” I tell him, glancing around for the closest one.
But he just closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. Moments later, the ground settles back down.
Shock explodes inside me. “You—” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat. Try again. “The earthquakes. They’re you?”
He nods, looks wary.
“Even the big ones?” I ask, and I can feel my eyes going wide. “All of them?”
“I’m so sorry.” His fingers stroke over my still-bandaged neck. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know.” I turn my head, kiss his palm even as astonishment continues to ricochet inside me. How can anyone be so powerful that they actually move the earth? It’s incomprehensible, unimaginable. “Does this happen often?”
He shakes his head, shrugs, like he’s as baffled as I am. “It’s never happened…before.”
“Before?” I ask.
“Before you.” He pulls me more tightly against him. “I learned control early—over myself and my abilities. I had to or…”
“Cities would crumble?” I ask, tongue firmly in cheek.
“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that. But I swear, I’ve got it under control now. I won’t hurt you again.” His mouth slides along my cheek, over my jaw, down my neck.
Heat moves through me at the first touch of his lips. It makes me tremble. Makes me want.
I pull his mouth back down to mine and let the need, and the pleasure, sweep me away.
The kiss goes on and on, until we’re both breathless. Shaky. Desperate.
I arch against him in an effort to be closer, then run my hands over his arms, his shoulders, his back. My fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans low in his throat. Then bites down gently on my lip, sucking at it just a little, until it feels like the Fourth of July deep inside me.
I gasp, shudder, and Jaxon uses my still-weak knees as an excuse to pull away. I try to hold him in place, try to keep his lips and skin and body on mine. But he just smooths a hand over my hair and whispers, “Come on.”
He takes my hand in his and tugs me toward his bedroom.
I follow him—of course I do—but as he leads the way, I can’t help but notice that his once neat reading alcove is now an utter disaster.
Books cover the floor, some lying down, some standing up, some leaning drunkenly against furniture halfway in between. The couch is upside down and the gorgeous old coffee table I liked so much is now splintered into little more than wood chips.
“What—what happened?” I gasp, bending down to pick up a few books that are directly in my path.
Jaxon takes them from me with a shake of his head, tosses them onto the bottom of the couch, which is now facing up. “I promised you the earthquake thing isn’t going to happen anymore,” he answers. “But it’s going to take a little time for me to figure out how to control all the things you make me feel.”
“This is learning how to control it?” I step over a pile of rubble that I’m pretty sure used to be a bookcase and try to pretend his words aren’t making me melt deep inside.
He turns me inside out with a look, destroys me with a kiss. But this? This makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, he feels as much for me as I feel for him.
He shrugs. “The earth barely shook this time, and no window broke. That’s definite progress.”
“I guess.” I swallow down the softness he makes bloom inside me and make a show of looking at the scattered wood chips instead. “I really liked that coffee table.”
“I’ll find you one you like more.” He tugs on my hand. “Come on.”
We make our way to his room, which thankfully seems to have been spared the destruction suffered by the reading alcove. It looks exactly the same as last time, complete with gorgeous paintings on the walls and musical instruments in the corner.
“I love your room,” I tell him, trailing a hand over his dresser as I make my way to the drum kit. I resisted it last time, know I should resist it this time, since what has happened so far today has left us with a lot to talk about.