Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 270

It takes me a second to notice it, but when I do, I blink up at him. “Wait, I thought you were going to the store. You didn’t get anything?”

Jax shakes his head like the answer is obvious. Then he glances at his phone.

“It’s time for your meds.”

He stands, disappears down the hall, and comes back with the little containers I’ve grown to resent on a cellular level. I eye the pills with the same disgust I gave hospital food, but I still take them, tossing them back and swallowing like they’re gravel.

The drowsiness is already waiting for me, lurking just out of sight. Jax leans down, kisses me quick, barely a brush of lips, then pats my cheek.

“Good boy.”

I give him a look but he only smirks. He puts the bottles away, and when he comes back, he’s shirtless, changed into sweatpants, looking unfairly like every fantasy I’m not allowed to act on.

I watch as he pulls the back cushions off the couch and drops them onto the floor with a soft thud. Then he slides in behind me, stretching out, one arm under my head like a pillow, the other wrapping around my waist and pulling me back against him.

I sink into him without thinking.

“Layla called,” I murmured, settling. “Wanted to gossip.”

Jax groans into my shoulder. “I bet she did.”

“Apparently Addy hooked up with Rowan.”

He scoffs. “Why am I not even surprised?”

I chuckle, turning my head just enough to catch his expression. “She’s always had a thing for him. They bumped into each other at the hospital, and she decided it was her civic duty to jump his bones.”

He laughs softly. “Good for her.”

I shift, turning in his arms until we’re facing each other, breaths brushing.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “At least she’s getting some action.”

My eyes trace him, the sharp lines of his jaw, the softness around his mouth, the warmth in those impossible eyes. My hand moves before I think, trailing down his stomach, following the faint dip of muscle until my finger grazes the waistband of his sweatpants.

Then I start to slip it under.

Just like every other damn time since the discharge, he catches my wrist, firm but gentle.

“Hey,” he warns, voice low. “Behave.”

Apparently, like my freedom, sex is also off the table.

But I ignore him this time.

I lean in and kiss him....slow, searching, greedy. The kind of kiss that drags a sound out of both of us. My hips shift without me meaning them to, grinding against him, and God, it’s pathetic how good it feels. How desperate I am. This has to be the longest we’ve ever gone without sex, and it shows in the way I cling to him like I’m starving.

“Xander,” he warns, voice already fraying at the edges.

He knows exactly what I’m doing.

“Maybe that’s why I left the house,” I murmur against his mouth. “Maybe it’s the pent up sexual frustration. Luckily, you can fix that.”

I stroke him through his sweats, teasing and the rush that hits me when I feel him harden under my touch nearly knocks the air out of me.

He makes this strangled sound, his hand comes around my wrist like he’s about to stop me, but he doesn’t stop me. He just holds me there, breathing hard.

“Xander... I’d love—” His voice cracks. “Christ, I’m dying to. But—”

“But what?” I push, brushing my lips along his jaw.

“You’re still healing.”

I grin against his skin,

“That’s my chest. Entirely different parts from the ones we need.”

“Don’t be smart,” he mutters, his glare ruined by the way his breathing stutters.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“I’m serious, don't push it,” He cups my face, breath mingling with mine. “You know how weak I get when you’re like this.... all needy and desperate.”

He kisses me soft but deep, wanting but restrained. Then pulls back just enough to say, “Try again in six weeks. I’ll reconsider.”

I jerk back and stare at him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

I groan, dropping my forehead to his jaw in mock defeat.

“I know you want to,” I mumble.

He exhales, eyes slipping shut for a second. “It’s not about what I want. I just can’t risk it.”

I lean in, mouth finding that spot on his neck that always unravels him. I suck and feel him twitch beneath me.

“I miss you,” I breathe against his skin.

He huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh. “I don’t think it’s me you miss.”

I lift my head, meet his eyes.

“Well, I have a big heart,” I tell him softly. “There’s more than enough room for both of you.”

He smiles, low and warm. “Aren’t you the sweet talker.”

I shift closer, mouth brushing the shell of his ear, breath warm.

“We can go slow,” I murmur, kissing just below it. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Xander....” His voice breaks. “You know I don’t do slow. Not with you.”

The way he says that could make me combust on the spot.

Every time I make a move on him lately, which is often, relentlessly, embarrassingly often, Jax ends up jerking or blowing me off like I’m some sex-starved teenager he’s trying to keep under control. And every damn time, right when I’m coming apart in his hand, my chest tightens for a second, reminding me to take it easy. But it’s always worth it. Every single time.

Still...

I need more. And I know he does too. It’s all over him....his voice, his breathing, the way his eyes drag over me like he’s studying every inch he can’t have yet. He’s restraining himself so hard I can almost feel the tension humming off him.

Meanwhile, at this rate, I’m about to start marking days off on a damn calendar like I’m counting down to parole.

I swear it feels like someone handed me a sentence. Jax’s fingers trace slow, absent-minded patterns across my back. Little circles. Lines that don’t go anywhere. It feels like he’s drawing thoughts he’s not saying yet.

We just look at each other.

That quiet settles over us, the kind we fall into sometimes. It feels like we’re memorizing the moment in real time, letting it sink straight into the bones. Then Jax clears his throat lightly.

“I dropped by Albert’s store,” he says.

I smile, lazy, soft. “Yeah? How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. He always asks about you. How you’re doing.”

I nod, warmth tugging at my chest. Then Jax says, “I’ve been thinking about what gift to get you.”

I frown. “Why would you get me a gift?”

He looks down at my chest, like the answer is there somewhere..I shake my head, scoffing under my breath.

“Jax, if this is about the stuff I got you on your birthday, you don’t have to do some repayment thing. That’s not how it works.”

“That’s not why,” he says quietly. “I just wanted to...had no idea it was that hard though.”

My heart pulls tight. I raise an eyebrow. “So did you give up?”

“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”

Something sparks in my chest, electric and warm. I grin, try to sit up, excitement breaking through.

“So what’d you get—”

His hand comes down on my waist, holding me in place. “Hold on,” he murmurs.

The pulse in my throat kicks hard. There’s something on his face. Something like nerves.

“I got you something, ” he says, voice rougher now, “ But I’ll replace it eventually. With time. With something better.”

His eyes flicker to mine. “Something more permanent.”

Everything in me goes still. My heart pounds so fast I can hear it in my ears. Then Jax reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue velvet bag. Opens it.

Takes out a silver ring.