CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lexi
The moment the cold wind aggressively touched my neck, the sensation was like a physical slap, tearing me from the sexual trance I had been in. It was as if I had been violently doused with freezing water, and the shock immediately brought me crashing back to my senses.
What the hell had happened here?
My hand snapped up, clasping around the mark on my neck, the sensitive skin still tingling. My focus immediately narrowed, ignoring the look of complete astonishment on Axle's face. I did not, under any circumstances, want to explain how I got that hideous mark to anyone, especially not him. A wave of sick panic washed over me. How could I have been so foolish, so careless, to let my guard down so easily? Now, he would probably tell the whole school about the repulsive scar I normally hid securely underneath my neck scarf.
“W-what is that? How did you get that?” His voice was low, rough, and shook as he asked in surprise. The shock was evident in every syllable.
I ignored him completely, my heart hammering against my ribs. I frantically started feeling around on the ground for my scarf with one hand, since it was dark, while my other hand remained clamped over the mark, trying to shield it from his gaze and the world.
“Answer me,” he demanded, stepping forward, his voice gaining a hard, commanding edge. He stood directly in my way, blocking my desperate escape. “How did you get hurt like that?”
“Oh, so now you care about me!” I shouted at him, the sound raw and desperate. I was caught in a sickening maelstrom in between tears and anger.
I was incandescently angry at him for being here, for seeing this, and even more furious at myself for my incredible lapse in control. But beneath the anger was a consuming sadness, because now my secret, the thing I guarded most fiercely, had been exposed. People would start to look at me like a weirdo and treat me like an outcast once the whispers started. I would inevitably lose the prestige that I had worked so hard to build at school, and who knew if Eric, the one stable, safe potential future I had, would still be interested in me after he discovered what was permanently etched onto my neck.
The strange fact was, the mark hadn't actually bothered me since I moved to Bayou Crest. I hadn't even had the terrible, screaming nightmares that used to plague me. Though I sometimes still dreamt about the yellow eyes that terrified me, the image of blue eyes always seemed to sweep in and save me, to comfort me in my sleep.
Maybe that was why I was so intensely attracted to Axle. Because he possessed the exact same shade of blue eyes that always made me feel safe in my dreams, the same color that chased the shadows away.
“I have always cared about you,” he answered, his voice tight. I could see the effort it cost him, how he was trying really hard not to lose his temper and shatter the fragile moment.
“Well, if you cared about me, you wouldn't have broken my heart so terribly,” I countered, taking two steps away from him. There was no way I had forgiven him,not yet,for the humiliation and cruelty he inflicted in the supply closet earlier. I could never forget that moment. I had completely bared my heart to him, offered him my vulnerability, and he had nearly destroyed my confidence in the worst way possible.
“I-I'm sorry,” he apologized, the words sounding heavy, genuine. And just like that, my heart melted instantly, along with every ounce of resentment and fury that I was feeling towards him.
Then he opened his mouth again. “But I did it for your own good.”
Oh no, that motherfker!
Just as quickly as my anger and resentment had melted away, they came back, surging in multiple folds. My blood boiled instantly.
“What the fk do you mean?” I demanded, livid with pure rage. “What do you mean you broke my heart for my own good?”
I was done listening to his ridiculous, self-serving excuses. I violently shoved past him and scooped my scarf up from the dirty floor, securing it tightly and frantically on my neck, hiding the shame. Then, without a backward glance, I made my way away from there, walking with a fierce, determined speed.
“Wait, let me explain!” His voice trailed after me, desperate and pleading, but I refused to stop, refused to yield to the ache in his tone.
I kept walking, focusing only on escape, until he reached out and yanked me back to him with a sharp, forceful grip on my arm.
“I just want to know how you got that mark,” he asked, his voice breathless, a bit desperate. Or maybe the sudden exertion of the chase had made him breathless, though I doubted that, he was likely as strong as a horse.
“What does it matter?” I asked, finally turning back to face him, my eyes shimmering violently with tears that refused to fall. “Do you think less of me now? Does it irritate you to see the mark on me?”
“What, no!” he frowned deeply, the denial immediate and sincere. He pulled me closer, hugging me tight against his chest. “Why would you think that? With or without the mark, you're perfect.” His words were a soothing balm, but then his voice darkened with fierce intensity. “I just want to know who or what I'll have to hurt for hurting you.”
My insides literally turned to mush. That possessive, protective growl,it dissolved every last shard of my remaining anger.
“Axle,” I whispered, overwhelmed by the intensity, and I lifted my lips to his. I simply couldn't resist doing that.
I could not believe that only a few seconds ago, I had been so utterly furious with him. His kiss made me forget my past anger and even my grief over the mark. All that mattered was the heat and the promise in his mouth.
I wanted this. I needed this. I wanted him to make me feel the way that only he could.
His hands wrapped tightly around my waist, and he pulled me closer, erasing the last distance between us. His tongue forcefully invaded my mouth, and I moaned at the raw, intoxicating sweetness that it brought with it.
My body was literally on fire, burning, and I needed him, his cool strength, to cool me down. My hands moved up and down his back, tracing the hard lines, and I just loved to feel his muscles as I ran my hands over them, feeling the definition beneath the thin shirt.
“Axle,” his name slipped out of my mouth in a moan as his hands moved lower and then came up to cover my breasts and tug lightly at the hardened pebbles. He must have learned his lesson, because he stayed strictly away from my neck. But I still thoroughly enjoyed what he was doing, the intense arousal making my panties soaked.