Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 282

They forgot the plates, so we’re all hunched around one table, eating straight from the cake box with flimsy plastic forks. The table’s too small for five grown adults, the forks keep bending, and Layla’s already smeared frosting on her shirt, but it’s perfect.

I’m still looking around the place between bites. The exposed beams. The wide windows. The faint echo of our voices in the open space. Even like this, mostly empty, it has a heartbeat. And I can’t wait to watch Jax turn it into whatever living, breathing thing he’s been dreaming about.

“How long do you think it’ll take once renovations officially start?” Layla asks, licking frosting off her thumb.

Jax looks around. “If permits don’t drag and the contractor sticks to schedule.... maybe five, six months? Give or take a few weeks. Depends on supply delays too.”

I fork a piece of cake and feed it to him, his eyes flick to mine as he takes it, then he adds, “The previous owner was really nice, actually. Told me to send him details once we’re done so he can tell his old regulars to drop by.”

“That’s sweet,” Addy says, leaning forward, elbows on the table. Then she narrows her eyes at Jax and Adam. “So, what are you two thinking for the name? I feel like Adeline's has a nice ring to it, no?”

I watch Jax glance at Adam who immediately puts both hands in the air. “That’s all him. I’m just the background investor slash cheerleader.”

Jax chuckles quietly. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m still thinking about it.”

Addy points at him with her plastic cup, accusing and dramatic. “You’re gonna name it after Xander, aren’t you? You're so whipped for him it's actually painful to watch.”

Layla nods, already laughing. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if he printed Xander’s face on the logo.”

I look at Jax, and he looks at me, something flickering warm in his eyes. I bump my knee against his under the table. “It’s your dream,” I say softly. “Name it whatever the hell you want.”

That look in his eyes only gets warmer, he stands after a quiet beat, brushing crumbs off his hands before reaching his arm out to me.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll show you the rest.”

I set my fork into the cake box and take his hand, letting him pull me up. His fingers lace with mine the second I’m standing, and he leads me away from the table, past the banner, and toward the back of the space.

The kitchen door swings quietly behind us. Inside, it smells faintly of steel and old spices, like the ghosts of meals made there haven’t entirely left. There are stainless counters, empty racks, a few cardboard boxes, and a surprising amount of quiet.

I let go of his hand and look around. “I can see you in here,” I say, turning back to him. “In your zone.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“It’s really clean,” I add, sweeping my gaze along the gleaming counter.

“Yeah, they scrubbed the place down before they closed up.”

Something in the corner catches my eye, something rustic. A tall, heavy butcher’s block table, the kind with years of knife scars carved into its surface. Weathered but solid.

I walk up to it, palm gliding over the dents and grooves. “You keeping this?”

“Yeah,” he confirms immediately. “First thing I claimed.”

I smile, about to turn around, but then I feel him behind me. His body presses into my back, his hands sliding around my waist and pulling me into him. I lean back without thinking, letting my head rest against his shoulder for a second. Letting myself just feel him.

“It’s perfect,” I say quietly.

Then I turn in his arms. My hands find their way around his neck, fingers curling at the nape. His eyes drop to my mouth the second I face him.

“There’s more to see upstairs,” he murmurs.

“We’ll go up eventually.” I dig my fingers into his hair, tightening my hold until his gaze narrows, “You heard Addy out there. I’m gonna be booked nonstop from next week. Probably come home half-dead every night.” I shift my hold to the neckline of his shirt and tug lightly. “You should take advantage of all this free time we have while you still can.”

He huffs a breath, dark amusement flickering warm in his eyes. “At least wait till we get home.”

“I will,” I promise. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page first.”

“And what page is that?” he asks, even though the look in his eyes says he already knows.

“The one you have absolutely no reason to say no again.”

His gaze sweeps over my face, sharp and hungry. He leans in, lips grazing the shell of my ear. His hand slides down, grabbing a full handful of my ass, dragging me hard against him. His breath is hot against my mouth as he murmurs, “I haven’t had you in over two months....you keep talking like that and I’m gonna fuck you right here on this damn table. I’m so strung out on you I can barely think straight half the time.”

A shiver runs up my spine. I brush my lips over his teasingly and then whisper back, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

His hands tighten on me, fingers digging into my hips as he tilts his head, capturing my mouth with his. His lips crush mine, hot and demanding, tongue sliding against mine with a feral urgency. He presses me flush against him, his body taut and unyielding, and the world narrows down to the heat of his mouth, the weight of him against me and the raw need vibrating through every inch of him.

His hand firmly closes around mine and he drags it over the hard line of his cock. “You feel that?” he sounds like he’s been holding it in for days and finally snapped. “That’s nine damn weeks bottled up, all for you. Keep teasing me like this...” he nips my bottom lip between his teeth and heat detonates low in my spine as he tugs. “....and I’ll ruin you so fast, you won’t even remember what it feels like to stand on you own.”

I can feel him pressed flush against me, heat radiating from every inch of him, and my pulse spikes. “I’m not rushing this,” he states. “I’ve waited too long to just get it over with. No, I’m going to make you ache, make you suffer... want it so bad it burns. And then,” he tightens his grip, pressing his hips harder into mine, “I’ll give it to you. Hard. Just how you like it.”

My breath hitches. I try to steady myself but my body betrays me, trembling against his. I test the weight of him with my fingers,stroking him through the fabric of his jeans, and the raw, electric heat between us makes my head spin. My hips roll into him, slow enough to feel him throb.

“Or I could just drop to my knees right here,” I murmur. “Take you so deep you wouldn't last two minutes. I wanna feel you twitching in my mouth.”

I want to melt into him, press myself against every wall, taste him, feel him... but he’s holding back, and the restraint drives me wild. “Come on, let me taste you....we could be real quiet.”

“Damn it, Xander...” he groans, his voice rough against my skin. He holds my gaze, and I know he feels the effect he has on me, knows just how wound tight I am, how badly I want him.