Chapter 28 THE UNINVITED PARTY 2
Nancy's POV
I froze the moment his lips landed on mine, catching me completely off guard. My heart raced wildly, the sound of its thudding echoing in my ears like a relentless drum. Then he pulled away slightly, eyes locked on mine before leaning in, his breath whispering against my skin.
"Make it look convincing. They're right behind us," he murmured, his voice low, the warmth of his breath brushing my ear and sending a sharp shiver coursing down my spine.
My hands balled into fists, trembling at my sides as I struggled to rein in the overwhelming urge to punch him right in the face.
And just like that, he crushed his lips onto mine again.
This time, I didn't resist.
I parted my lips and let him in-hating myself for it.
His kiss carried that same infuriating arrogance he always wore-slow, deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he knew that deep down, despite every angry fiber in my body screaming for space, I was falling... falling into the very thing I swore I'd never allow.
And I was.
The moment his tongue brushed mine, the walls I'd so carefully built began to crumble. My fists loosened. My eyes fluttered shut. My arms trembled, aching to cling to something-anything-to stop the dizzying rush swirling inside me.
But I didn't push him away.
I should have. God knows I should have shoved him off, slapped him, screamed, anything to stop the mess I was becoming.
But I didn't.
I sank into him.
His hand slid around to the small of my back, pulling me closer, pressing my body against his. I gasped against his mouth, that small sound betraying me, encouraging him. The kiss deepened-growing rougher, more desperate.
I hated how easily my body responded to him, how perfectly our lips seemed to move together in sync, like they were meant for this.
The fire he ignited in me was dangerous. It burned beneath my skin, unfamiliar and wild. And yet... I couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the way I found myself leaning in-needing more.
And that terrified me.
God help me-I kissed him back.
My hands betrayed me first. They slid up the hard line of his chest, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, gripping it like he was the only thing keeping me grounded.
My mind screamed no, but my body didn't listen.
My lips-my stupid, hungry lips-kept moving with his.
I could feel his heartbeat pounding in time with mine, fast and fevered. My knees wobbled beneath me, and for just one breathless second, everything else faded away.
The pain. The anger. The bitter resentment.
Gone.
And in its place-feeling. Dangerous, aching, raw feeling.
For that single moment, I let myself forget and fall.
But then reality slammed into me-like cold water over my head.
What the hell was I doing?
I tore myself away, breathless and shaking. My palm pushed hard against his chest, creating the distance I so desperately needed. My lips tingled, swollen from his kiss, and my face burned-not just with heat, but with shame.
I hated the way my body mourned the loss of his touch. Hated the way he was still looking at me-with confusion, with intensity, with something I couldn't bring myself to name.
Anger flooded me, choking and hot, but I didn't even know who it was for.
Him?
Or myself-for letting this happen again?
"You said make it convincing," I snapped, voice strained as I fought to sound composed. "Not real."
"But what's the difference?" he said, his voice low, that frustrating calm in his tone. "To make it real, you have to make it convincing."
His gaze flicked away from mine just as the sound of someone clearing their throat echoed behind us.
I froze.
My eyes shot back to his as he quickly walked up to me, pulling me into a tight embrace. His face buried in the crook of my neck, taking me by yet another surprise.
I held my breath, stunned, as he began planting soft, lingering kisses along the side of my neck. His hands trailed gently down the small of my back, causing my body to tense under his touch.
Then, a throat cleared. Again.
This time, he looked up-but his arms remained firmly wrapped around me. He leaned toward my ear, his warm breath brushing against my skin, sending another violent shiver down my spine.
"No matter what... don't look back," he whispered, his voice low and intense, our eyes meeting briefly-just enough to make my heart skip.
"May I know why I'm being interrupted?" he asked sharply. His tone dropped all pretenses of warmth. It had turned cold. Ruthless.
"I would like to have her back," a voice responded- cold and rude.
"And why is that? You interrupted me... for this?" he shot back, his voice edged with anger.
"Well, if you must know, she's one of my girls. So I decide who she spends the night with. Not you." The man's voice grew more hostile, more arrogant.
"And what made her yours?" Mr. Lennox asked coldly.
There was silence-thick and tense. Then the man spoke again.
"Let's cut to the chase, Jaxon. You're everyone's favorite. You always get what you want, whenever you want it. But I'd prefer you stay away from what belongs to me."
The arrogance in his tone made my blood boil. I could tell they knew each other-and they clearly didn't get along.
The hatred between them was so palpable it felt like smoke in my lungs. But dragging me into the middle of it wasn't just irritating-it was infuriating.
I was barely holding myself together at this point.
The way he talked about those girls... like they were trash.
And did he really just say they belong to him? Just because they owed him money?
The disrespect made my stomach turn. A frustrated groan slipped past my lips as I tried to stay calm.
"You're the one dragging this out, Scorpion. I already told you-she's with me," Mr. Lennox replied, voice tight with restraint.
"Then why is she dressed like one of my slaves?" Scorpion snapped back.
That did it.
I snapped.
Jaxon's POV
I felt her body stiffen against mine-tense, seething. She was losing it.
And I knew why.
But the last thing I needed was her face being seen by Scorpion.
She had no idea who she was about to get entangled with.
Then Scorpion said it. The word.
Slave.
I felt her groan, struggling to turn, but I tightened my grip around her instantly.
"First-she is not one of your slaves. And second-she's not dressed like them," I snapped. "She's wearing my suit jacket, and none of your girls have that uniform."
Scorpion looked like he could murder someone.
A slow, smug smile crept over his lips as he stepped back, nodding slightly, retreating with deliberate ease.
"You won this one, Jaxon. But watch your back," he warned, then turned to leave.
But I knew him too well.
He didn't come here just to demand her back.
He came to see what she looked like.
Miss Carter's struggle against my hold pulled me back to the moment. That's when I realized how tight I had been gripping her.
I let go quickly, allowing space to form between us.
"What the hell was that all about?" she asked, voice sharp with anger.
But I wasn't focused on her question-or her rage.
All I cared about now was keeping her face hidden from Scorpion.
If anyone discovered she was an intruder... she'd be dead.
This wasn't just a party.
This was a high-level, private affair.
The kind of event where the elite came to play in shadows-doing things they never wanted the public to know.
They would kill to protect their secrets.
I looked at her more closely.
Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail. Exposing too much of her.
Without a word, I stepped closer and slipped the band from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.
She stared at me like I had lost my mind.
I ran my hands through her hair, roughing it up so that it fell wildly across her face-and that did the trick. It hid her expression just enough.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, glaring up at me, but I didn't have time to explain.
Scorpion already had his men positioned at every corner of the room, their eyes calculating, watching our every move. But Miss Carter was too caught up in her fury to notice the growing threat around us.
"Come with me," I said, grabbing her hand, urgency laced in my voice. But she immediately turned on me, twisting my arm in one swift, practiced move.
"I told you not to touch me," she hissed, her tone sharp with venom. But I slipped free with ease, regaining control as I caught her wrist again, this time pulling her toward me.
She struggled, resisting every inch of the way.
"Can you stop acting on anger for one damn second and take a look around the room?" I growled, my voice low and restrained, my eyes locked onto hers with an intensity I knew she felt. "You're a detective, so act like one."
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Nancy's POV
All I wanted was to get out of here. To find Mia. To breathe again. But here I was-once more entangled with Jaxon Lennox, a man who only brought chaos wherever he went.
A man I should have been running from, not clashing with.
But something in his voice cut through my haze of anger. Reluctantly, my eyes met his before trailing around the room.
That's when I saw it.
Cold, sharp stares. Every glance too focused. Too calculated. The kind of looks that made your skin crawl and instincts scream.
There were eyes watching my every move.
Not just out of curiosity-but with purpose.
Predatory purpose.