Chapter 33 - 0033: Just Shut Up And Kiss Me

Chapter 33: Chapter 0033: Just Shut Up And Kiss Me

Jaxx’s Point Of View

"Hey, Bambina," I drawled, letting my voice drop into that dark, teasing rasp. "Still kept that name for me, huh?"

Her face flushed a dark, fiery red... not with embarrassment, but with pure, unadulterated fury. For a moment she looked as though she might simply turn and walk away, and some small, self-destructive part of me almost hoped she would, because I already knew how badly this was going to end.

Ten years hadn’t dulled that particular instinct of mine, the one that always knew exactly when I was about to ruin something good.

I watched as the anger on her face suddenly cracked, shifting into complete, utter confusion. Her brow furrowed, her dark berry lips parting as she muttered, "What did you just call me?"

I smirked, leaning an inch closer across the dark wood, savoring the way her breath hitched at the movement. "You heard me, princess."

Realization dawned on her like a slap to the face. Her eyes widened, the fog of the alcohol burning off in a single second of pure, unfiltered shock. I watched the memories click into place behind her eyes, one by one, like tumblers falling in a lock that had been rusted shut for a decade. It was strange, watching a decade collapse in on itself in someone else’s expression, knowing I was the cause of it.

"Bambina..." she whispered. Then her eyes went sharp as tacks. "Jaxx? You’re Jaxx? That good-for-nothing asshole?"

I winced dramatically, clutching my hand over my left breast pocket as if she’d run me through with a spit. "You wound me, princess. Is that the hello... the ’nice to see you again’ you give to someone you haven’t seen in over ten years?"

"Why would I be happy to see you?!" she snapped, her voice trembling with five different kinds of rage. "I hate you. I hate everything about you!"

"And is that why you’ve entered my booth and drunk my scotch twice?" I asked, tilting my head, unable to keep the amusement from curling at the edge of my mouth.

"Twice?" She blinked, staring at the crystal glass on the table, then back at my face. "When..."

She paused. Her eyes widened even further, her jaw dropping slightly, and I could see the exact moment the pieces fell together behind her expression, the way her whole body seemed to recoil from the memory even as her mind refused to let it go.

"You’re that guy from last week," she breathed.

My smirk broadened, dimpling my left cheek. "Wow. The princess has such a good memory."

"And you touched me?!"

"You were willing, remember?" I said, raising an eyebrow, letting the memory of that night hang thick and unspoken between us. "You practically begged me, baby."

"If I had known it was you," she bit out, every word dripping with venom as she leaned right over the table, close enough that I could count the flecks of gold buried in her furious eyes, "I would’ve broken the bottle over your head instead of letting you lay a single finger on me. I was drunk. I was frustrated. I was having the worst night of my life, and I didn’t care who was standing there."

"Is that so?" I leaned back, stretching my arm along the top of the booth, my grin slow and arrogant. "And what about tonight, Elena? What’s your excuse for getting into my booth again? Because I’m pretty damn sure you didn’t reserve this section."

"I didn’t come looking for you!" she spat, her chest heaving against the tight silk of her dark violet dress. "I was trying to get away from the pretentious, lying bastards out there! I wanted one drink where nobody was staring at me, where nobody was expecting me to play the perfect little trophy..."

"And yet you walked straight into my private sanctuary, sat on my leather, and poured yourself two fingers of my twenty-year single malt," I cut in softly, watching the words land like small blows. "Fate’s got a twisted sense of humor, doesn’t she?"

"It’s not fate, it’s a curse," she snarled, her fingers curling into tight fists, her knuckles pale against her skin. "Do you have any idea what you did to me back then? Do you even care? You turned my life upside down, made every single day a living hell, and then you just vanished into thin air like a coward! You left me to clean up the wreck you made!"

That was the dam breaking.

Elena lunged across the small space between us, her fists striking my chest with everything she had, the sudden violence of it startling even her, judging by the flicker of surprise that crossed her face before fury swallowed it whole again. There was something almost cathartic in watching her unravel like this, ten years of restraint finally giving way beneath my grin.

"Scumbag!" she hissed, pushing hard against my jacket. "After making my life hell, you disappeared?! Just like that?!"

I let her push me. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even bother to block her hands. Her palms hit my chest again, and again, the heavy gold band on her finger knocking against my ribs through the fabric of my suit, while I simply sat there with that smug, crooked grin plastered across my face, absorbing every blow like penance I’d been waiting years to pay. Each strike felt almost like relief, a debt finally being collected after far too long unpaid.

"Seems like you missed me," I said, my voice low, amused, vibrating under her knuckles.

"Miss you?" she spat, her face inches from mine, her breath smelling of heavy peat and hot, poisonous anger. "I want to kill you. I want to watch you die slowly and painfully. I want to carve that stupid, arrogant smile off your face and throw it in the gutter!"

"Well, damn," I murmured, my voice dipping an octave as I leaned right into her space, my eyes dragging over her dark lips. "You always did have a thing for drama, Bambina. But if you want me tied up and moaning in pain... all you had to do was ask nicely."

Her fist struck my chest... hard. A real blow this time, landing right over my collarbone, shaking her whole arm, and I felt the sting of it settle satisfyingly into my bones.

I chuckled, a low, smooth sound that rumbled in my throat. She hated it. I could see it in the quick, frantic rise and fall of her shoulders, in the way her dark eyes searched my face, desperately wanting to claw that smirk right off my mouth. There was something almost beautiful in her fury, something I’d forgotten in the ten years I’d spent trying not to remember her at all. I’d built an entire life out of not thinking about this woman, and somehow it had taken her less than five minutes to demolish it.

"I hate you," she growled, her voice catching on the last word, thick with a decade’s worth of unshed tears and unvented rage. "I despise you with every fiber of my being."

I reached up, my hand moving before I even gave it permission. My fingers brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from her cheek, my touch featherlight, lingering just along the hot, trembling line of her jawline. She went utterly still beneath it, as though my touch had short-circuited every furious thought in her head. Even her breathing seemed to forget itself for a moment, caught somewhere between a gasp and a sigh.

"It’s mutual, Bambina," I whispered.

The heavy velvet curtain behind us rustled, the wooden ring scraping against the brass rod with a sharp, echoing clack. Heavy, measured footsteps stopped right at the threshold.

I stiffened, every violent instinct in my body snapping to attention. Not now.

I started to turn my head toward the entrance, half-growling over my shoulder, "Who the hell..."

Before I could even get a full look at the curtain, Elena gasped, a quick, sharp intake of air that seemed to steal the last of her composure.

And then... she kissed me.

Her lips crashed against mine like a goddamn hurricane. Hot. Desperate. Full of raw defiance, unwashed fury, and something broken crying out underneath. The kind of kiss that silences time itself, blowing out every thought in my head like a candle in a gale.

I froze. Completely.

She tasted like fire, twenty-year scotch, and heartbreak. And something deep inside my chest... something I had buried in concrete and covered in blood a long time ago, jolted violently back to life, clawing its way up through years of careful, deliberate numbness. It terrified me how easily it surfaced, how little effort it took for her to reach the part of me I’d spent a decade trying to bury.

Her hands flew to the lapels of my jacket, her manicured fingers gripping the heavy wool so tight her knuckles turned white, holding on like she was standing on the very edge of a cliff. Like I was her last mistake, and she needed to make it right now, before whoever stood beyond that curtain could see her falling.

She pulled back a fraction of an inch, her dark berry lips swollen, her hot breath fanning across my mouth.

"Don’t ask questions," she whispered frantically against my lips, her stormy eyes wide, wild, and dark with terror. "Just... kiss me back."

I stared into her eyes for a split second, feeling the sharp, frantic tremor running through her hands where they clutched my lapels, and some old, dormant instinct in me recognized that fear immediately, the kind that had nothing to do with me at all. It was a fear I remembered from years ago, one I’d hoped never to see on her face again.

"Who’s standing outside that curtain, Elena?" I asked quietly, my hand moving to clamp around her waist.

"Just shut up and kiss me!" she hissed, pressing her mouth back against mine with an almost angry desperation.

My hand tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against my chest until there wasn’t a breath of air left between us, my mouth taking control of the kiss, hard, possessive, and unforgiving, some old hunger in me finally unleashed after ten long years of starving.

Every rational thought I owned dissolved somewhere in the taste of her, in the desperate way she clung to me like I was both the danger and the shelter from it.

"Make up your mind, princess," I growled against her lips, sliding my hand up her spine, feeling every shudder that racked her body. "Are you trying to kill me, or are you trying to use me?"

"Both," she breathed against my skin. "Definitely both."