Saints: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 2) Read online

  Now we’re standing in here—in what has to be his bedroom—under mood lighting. This is definitely not better. I didn’t expect Jax to have a bedroom at the top of the stairs. I thought it would be like other houses around here, where there’d be a balcony or a study or something.

  I look around me, trying to take it all in while also keeping track of where Jax is so I don’t let him get too close. The walls are a dark navy color, matching the thick looking duvet spread over the king sized bed in the center of the room. I thought the bedroom Pearl gave me was big, but this is some next level shit. He basically has two rooms rolled into one. A regular bedroom, but also a whole other area with sofas and a television, separated only by gorgeous Chinese panels creating a partial divider. They don’t stop you from seeing all the way through the room, but they’re a nice touch to make it seem like the spaces are still separate.

  “Feel free to try out the bed.” I can hear the smirk in his voice before I even look at his face again. I shoot him my best unimpressed look. The room might be impressive, but all his innuendos are not. “What? Do they not fuck in beds in the ghetto? Because I’d be more than happy to take you against the wall or on the floor if it would make you more comfortable.”

  Fucking hell. “Shut up,“ I squeak. Before I start actually picturing what he’s describing, damn. I take a long, deep breath. “I’m here to talk about Kathryn.”

  Jax gets a bored expression. Not exactly a polite face to make when I’m bringing up his dead classmate. “What about her?” He strolls a little closer to me, not enough to make me step away, but enough to make me eye him warily.

  “I heard your father told everyone not to talk the night Kathryn was killed. That he wanted you all to only tell the police the bare minimum.” I watch him, looking for some sign of recognition in his eyes. He gets it, followed by a brief look of surprise.

  “Smith tell you that?” Jax frowns and rubs the hint of facial hair on his jaw. I have to tear my eyes away from the sight. He looks better than I’d ever admit with a little scruff.

  “No,” I answer honestly. “It doesn’t matter who told me.”

  He studies me like he’s trying to gauge my honesty. “Patrick, then,” he concedes, shrugging like the answer is obvious. Instantly, I realize my mistake. There were only three of them. Obviously, if I say it’s not Smith, and he knows it’s not himself, then the only option is Patrick. Shoot. I didn’t want to throw him under the bus.

  Jax reads my hesitation. “I don’t give a shit, Lexington, I was just asking.” He takes another couple steps closer. “In case you’ve forgotten, we all agreed that night before I called my father. You included.”

  “I thought he was going to help.”

  “He did help.”

  “I thought he was going to help Kathryn,” I clarify.

  “Kathryn’sdead. There is no helping her.” He rolls his eyes at me like I’m the one being dense.

  I’m getting so frustrated that I take a step closer just so I can shove his shoulder. It doesn’t actually do anything, but it makes me feel a little better. “You know what I mean. I thought he’d help make sure we figured out what happened. That he’d make sure we got answers.”

  Jax gives me a patronizing look. “My father is a state governor, not a homicide detective. And you aren’t either, so give it a rest. And tell your new little puppy, Dupont, that it’s being taken care of. No help from amateur sleuths required.”

  “You’re such an asshole,” I tell him, shaking my head in disappointment. “Don’t you care at all that she’s dead?”

  “Kathryn was a bitch. Don’t pretend you don’t know that. Didn’t she try to whore you out at the country club?” I swallow hard as I glance away. “Yeah, I know all about it. Kathryn liked to brag about her conquests. And I don’t mean the sexual ones.” He gives me a pointed look. I get it. Kathryn made me look like an idiot on purpose, to make herself look better, I’m sure. That doesn’t change the fact that what happened to her wasn’t right. Her family still deserves answers.

  “She had a family, Jax. And friends. And Sadie. People that cared about what happened to her. Doesn’t that matter to you at all? You spent your whole life growing up with her, whether you liked her or not. That should mean something. Or are you really so heartless that you can’t muster up the ability to care about someone who so obviously didn’t actually have her shit together?” I think about all the people I’ve met here. “It might have been Kathryn this time, but from what I can tell, it could have been anyone. Would you be so callous if it had been anyone else?”

  “Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at me, but in the split second after that, it almost looks like a wave of self-doubt crashes over his face. It’s only there for a moment, not even long enough for me to be sure it’s what I saw. I can only hope maybe my words will sink in even a little bit. Jax is the only one that can talk to his father. It’s not like I’m going to call the governor up myself to accuse him of abusing his position to hinder a police investigation. That seems like a surefire way to end up in a hell of a lot of trouble. Pearl would probably strangle me for such a complete lack of manners.

  I nod, pursing my lips. “Well, that’s why I came, so… I’ll go now.” I take a few steps towards the door before Jax stops me.

  He shoots a hand out in my direction and grabs me by the belt before I can get very far. I’m about to tell him to let go of me before I scream, but I don’t get the chance—for either. He plants his mouth on mine, kissing me like he’s entitled to it.

  Kissing Jax is even better than I remembered it. He leads the way, forcing my mouth to mold to accommodate his. He knows what he likes, and he knows what I like, too, much to my annoyance. It all feels so good as he kisses me hard, like he’s trying to punish me in the most delicious way. Even the way his facial hair scrapes my sensitive skin is somehow sexy.

  When he pulls back to take a breath, I’m furious. No matter how good he might be able to make me feel, I gave no indication that I would be okay with this.

  I pull my hand back as if to slap him, but he grabs my wrist before I can do it. His fingers curl around me, tightening painfully until I wince. He grins, clearly enjoying the pain he’s causing. He uses his grip on me to propel me backward, shoving me harder against the wall. I suck in a sharp breath as he knocks the wind out of me. I’m going to have bruises.

  Jax takes several steps towards me, still holding onto that lazy grin even though there’s a semi-murderous look in his eyes. His hands start to come up and I flinch—hard.

  “I’m not going to hit you,” he says with so much disgust that I flinch a second time. “Stop fucking doing that.” He slams his hand against a spot on the wall directly beside me, and I have to turn my head away to avoid pissing him off even more. Because I definitely just flinched a third time.

  My voice is a whisper when I answer, “Could have fooled me.”

  Jax shakes his head with continued disgust. His arms snake around me, shoving between my body and the wall as he shoves his hands in my back pockets, palming my ass through my jeans. I try to sidestep him, but it’s no use, he just tightens his grip and leans in closer, his lips skating over the skin behind my ear.

  I try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. “What’s the problem? You’ll fuck Smith and Dupont but you think you’re too good for me. Is that it?”

  “What?” My voice goes all high-pitched and weird. I bang the back of my head against the wall in an attempt to put as much distance between us as possible. “I haven’t slept with either of them!” Aside from the night he rescued me from the mall, I’ve spent next to no time alone with Patrick. And I still don’t know what the hell Smith and I are doing, or whether it’s more serious than the occasional kissing and hand holding.

  The surprised look Jax gets confuses the hell out of me. Does he seriously think I’ve been sleeping around since I got here? Even if I had been, it would be none of his business, and it certainly wouldn’t somehow mean I was obligated to sleep wit
h him, too!

  “That’s bullshit.” He really seems convinced of that, and I can’t for the life of me understand why. “I’m sure a girl like you is used to being passed around. And I’m sure it will be my turn, eventually.”

  I’m completely speechless as I stare openmouthed at him and his insinuation. He takes a hand out of one of my back pockets, and I try to use that as a chance to get away from him, but he’s not letting go. He plants his palm against my hip, his fingers searching out the skin under the hem of my shirt. I claw helplessly at his hand, trying to stop him from touching me under my shirt—but I’ve walked myself right into a trap.

  He flips his hand over faster than I can react, grabbing my wrist in a painful grip. He yanks my hand to the bulge in his pants that I was desperately trying to ignore. He lets go of my wrist and I try to yank my hand back, but he only presses his body closer, trapping my hand uncomfortably between my lower abdomen and his hard dick. I whimper helplessly as I desperately try to ignore the twinge between my legs that I can’t help as Jax grinds himself against me.

  He speaks directly into my ear, “I’m getting awfully damn tired of being patient, Juliet.”

  “I’m not,” I protest, still trying to pull my hand away even though it’s proving impossible. All of my movement has the opposite effect of what I’d hoped, too, as I feel him twitch against me, the motion of my hand only making him harder.

  “I want to make you feel really good.” He runs his free hand over the curve of my breast, trailing all the way up to my collarbone. With a devilish grin, he adds, “Or really bad.”

  I turn my head the other way, not wanting to look at him as he gropes me—and forces me to return the favor. I’ve dealt with my share of handsy guys, they were a staple of life in Nikon Park, but none that ever made me feel so conflicted.

  I hate that he feels like he has any right to put his hands on me, but damn if he doesn’t manage to make it feel good, too. Damn him. Damn him for oozing the kind of sex appeal that makes me feel like I need a shower just by being in the same room as him. Maybe I’m actually just a masochist, because that’s the only possible explanation for all these feelings I keep having for guys who haven’t been nice to me. Nothing about Jax being an asshole should turn me on the way it does, but I’ll be damned if the spark of adrenaline I feel as he gets rough with me doesn’t make my lady bits sing. This is a serious problem.

  Jax kisses me again before he opens that big mouth of his. “I’m not normally into sloppy seconds, but I guess I could be persuaded to make an exception for a Lexington.” The words, though not the most crude thing he’s said to me, feel like they’re crossing a whole different line. I don’t want him to touch me if he’s only thinking of me as a Lexington and not as a real person. I don’t want him to turn me into some kind of weird societal trophy. It’s disgusting.

  I cram both my arms between us and shove as hard as I can. Jax goes reeling back a few steps, his eyes getting impossibly darker as he pins me with a hard look. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Don’t ever touch me again,” I grind out through clenched teeth.

  I turn on my heel and escape, not even caring when I slam open the bedroom door so hard the sound of it crashing into the wall seems to echo through the rest of the house. “You’re the one that chose to show up here, bitch. Don’t forget that!” Jax yells after me as I scramble down the stairs. My chest is pounding in all the worst ways. After all his teasing, I can’t say I didn’t wonder what it would be like—but I didn’t want it to be like that.

  Chapter Nine

  I take my regular lunch seat, trying to ignore the way Jax stares at me from under drooping eyelids. He’s been doing it for the past week, ever since I showed up at his house. Before, he only really paid attention to me when he wanted to fuck with me. Now it seems like we can’t be in the same room without him watching my every move.

  I haven’t told anyone about what happened at his house. Maybe that’s why he’s staring. He probably expected I would rat him out as soon as I got the chance. Maybe I should have. But every time I think about what happened I get this weird feeling deep in my core, remembering that even though he kind of scared me, I liked it. And what does that say about me? If being treated like shit by him actually turns me on… No, I’d rather not think about it altogether.

  A big, paper takeout bag plops down across from me. That used to be Sadie’s seat, but it’s Salma that’s standing across from me when I turn my attention that way. Sadie keeps sitting with Cece, and now Salma has taken to sitting with us. She actually makes a fantastic buffer.

  “What the hell are you looking at?” she asks Jax, bugging her eyes out at him until he scoffs and gives his attention back to the O’Culligan twins instead. One on either side of him.

  I shoot her a grateful look when it seems everyone else is distracted. Smith is on his phone under the table, holding it out of view of the watchful eyes of the administration, who don’t actually allow phones out during the day. And Patrick, well I’m not exactly sure what he’s doing. His head is turned away from us, towards the window with the view of the courtyard where we ate when it was nicer outside. There’s nothing out there, so I’m not really sure what he’s looking at. It’s probably for the best that he’s looking away. It means he doesn’t notice when I stare in his direction for just a beat too long.

  When I look back at Salma, she raises her eyebrows, then wiggles them. My blush heats my whole face up. Curse my fair skin and it’s inability to hide even the slightest bit of embarrassment.

  “I get it,” Salma says with a shrug.

  Patrick and Smith both look up and over at us to see what she’s talking about. My face goes even warmer. Jax smirks, having seen the exchange and I’m sure fully aware of what she’s saying. Ugh. I smile over at Smith like it’s no big deal, holding my breath until he loses interest and turns to Jax, asking him something about an assignment they both have to do.

  Sorry, Salma mouths. I think sometimes she forgets that not everyone is quite as outspoken as she is. If she got caught checking Patrick out, she’d probably claim that shit and convince everyone they were the weird ones for questioning it.

  The next few minutes are fairly normal. The O’Culligan twins don’t actually stay long when they realize no one really wants to give them the time of day. Allie shows up to hang all over Jax, who finally stops looking at me so he can indulge her instead. Fine by me.

  We’re two-thirds of the way through lunch when Smith angles his chair towards me, dropping his hand on my thigh for a moment to steal my attention away from Salma. I smile over at him tentatively, seeing a strange sort of hesitation on his face.

  “What’s up?” I ask him, because he looks weirdly nervous all of a sudden. I get a sort of panicky feeling for a second, wondering if he’s somehow found out about what happened with Jax and is going to confront me about it. But, that’s not it at all.

  “I was thinking about Valentine’s Day.” Patrick’s head turns towards us so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t give him whiplash. He stares at Smith as Smith continues, “How would you feel about me making reservations somewhere? I know fancy dinners aren’t normally your thing, but this is a special enough occasion, right?”

  I glance down at my lunch in front of me. I hate that he’s putting me on the spot like this, particularly that he’s doing it in front of Patrick and Jax, who are both staring at us now. I’ve been trying to not expect the worst, but this timing feels a little too purposeful. Like he knew it would get a reaction out of his friends, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s the only reason he’s bringing it up. I don’t want to be a pawn in this strange, competitive nature I’ve noticed is the hallmark of their friendship.

  Patrick leans back in his chair, doing his best impression of Jax as he acts like nothing in the world can bother him. “Does that mean the two of you are official now? Spending Valentine’s together?”

  I started to take a
sip of my water, but his question makes me choke, spluttering as I digest what he just asked. Smith looks over to me, his eyes narrowing at my overreaction. If I thought I was put on the spot before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now.

  “We’re figuring things out,” Smith say slowly, his eyes still on mine for confirmation. I nod slightly, his answer just diplomatic enough to keep me from freaking out about the direction things are headed. It suddenly feels like everything’s getting too serious before I’m ready. Patrick eyes both of us as if checking the validity of his answer. He doesn’t seem happy about it.

  “Great,” Patrick drags the word out, his eyes dead on mine as he obviously thinks it’s anything but. “So no hard feelings then about our kiss?”

  Oh shit. My heart sinks like a lead weight in my chest as Smith gapes at Patrick then turns to me with anger flashing in his eyes. “What’s he talking about?” His voice is ice cold, and I can’t really blame anyone but myself. I kissed Patrick. I liked kissing Patrick. And I was the one that chose to keep it a secret.

  Salma lets out a soft whistle. She’s hearing about this for the first time, too. Though unlike Smith, she doesn’t look bothered in the least by the revelation.

  Jax, who hasn’t said a word, lets out a chuckle under his breath. My eyes shoot his direction in a panic, knowing he could make this even worse if he decides to tell them I’ve kissed him recently, too. He leans around Allie to wink at me as Patrick and Smith are busy staring at me, waiting for me to respond. I don’t trust Jax, but I’m hoping that wink means he’s keeping the secret. He fucking should, considering he crossed every line there is by putting his hands on me at his house.

  Smith shoves his seat back, the metal legs squealing so loudly against the tile floor that people at nearby tables turn to see what’s happening. He towers over me, waiting for my answer as I sit there saying nothing. I don’t know what to say.