Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 56

I tilt my head like I’m about to claim him, and his lips part...soft, instinctive, like his body betrays him. The sight alone nearly wrecks me. That tiny opening is enough to send heat curling low in my stomach. My mouth aches to close the distance, to taste him.

But I don’t give him the satisfaction. I pull back at the last second. I know it's kinda cruel, but the rush of control, of making him want...it’s intoxicating.

Something catches my eye, and I seize the distraction before I lose my restraint completely. “That’d look good at your place,” I say, nodding toward a record player on a nearby shelf. My voice comes out too casual, and I know I’m bluffing, trying to cool down when I’m still on fire inside.

I break away, walk over to it, pretending I’m fine. I’m not. My body is still humming, my skin hot where his almost touched mine. I trace a finger along the dusty edge of the turntable, grounding myself. “You listen to records?” I ask, softer now, trying to sound normal. “My dad’s a music professor. He’s obsessed with these things.”

And then....fuck.

I feel him behind me. The heat of him at my back before I even hear him move. My shoulders lock, breath catching in my throat. Every muscle tenses, alert, because Jax doesn’t just stand behind you. When he’s this close, it means something.

I don’t turn around right away. I can’t. Not when I’m this strung tight, not when the air between us is still buzzing with everything I just confessed without really confessing. My pulse thunders. My hand stays pressed to the record player, but my focus is entirely on him, on the gravity of him pulling me back into his orbit whether I let him or not.

“I already told you—”he starts.

“I know what you told me,” I cut him off, sharper than I meant to. My voice doesn’t shake, though inside I’m rattling like glass about to shatter. “I’m choosing to ignore you. Unless you’re ready to be straight up about why you can’t.”

I glance back. His eyes flare, dark and dangerous, and it should make me want to step away, but I can't.

“This isn’t a game, Xander.” His voice is a growl, low enough to scrape against my spine.

“What makes you think I’m playing?”

That’s when his hands find me....broad palms, rough fingers closing around my waist like they own it. My breath stumbles. He turns me with that grip, firm, controlled, until I’m facing him head-on. Eye to eye. It’s a collision in silence....heat, defiance, want, all sparking between us like deadly fireworks.

My pulse kicks against my throat, and his jaw tightens like he’s holding himself together by a thread.

I lock my gaze on his and refuse to flinch. “Intimidating me won’t work,” I tell him, even though I'm burning under his touch. “And don’t you fucking dare start ignoring me after this. You made me like you, Jax. The least you could do is take responsibility for it.”

“I don’t do relationships.”

“Neither do I.” My answer is immediate, reckless. “Guess we’ll see how it goes. It’s not like I’m dragging you to the damn altar and forcing you to bind your life to mine. I just want—”

“You don’t know what you want.” He cuts me off, voice harsh enough to slice. His grip on my waist tightens, almost punishing. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. It might sound appealing in your head right now, but it’s not. And we’re not gonna discuss this. It’s a no.”

I glare and shake my head just to keep from losing it. “You don’t get to say no. Not when you fucking look at me like that. You said you like me, so just... brace yourself. ”

His jaw ticks. His eyes narrow, and for a second I swear the world tilts with the weight of his silence.

I push on, my chest brushing his now, reckless, merciless. “Like I said...I just want to get to know you. That’s it. If you really do like me, humor me. Otherwise....” My voice drops into something cold and final. “You lose the right to ever approach me, talk to me, or even breathe in my direction. You let me walk away and you stay gone. And if I decide to try this with someone else?” I swallow hard, my gaze now daring. “I will. Even if it’s just to spite you... fucking try me.”

“That’s not fair,” he grinds out.

“Neither is this.” My hand fists in his shirt, tugging him closer until there’s barely a sliver of air left. My heart’s in my throat, my blood boiling with anger and want all tangled up. “But here we are.”

He looks like he’s holding back something sharp. “What exactly do you want to know, Xander?” His voice is rough, dangerous.

He steps closer, like a predator stalking prey, forcing me to step back. I can feel the heat coming off him. “It’s not gonna work. Whatever answers you think you’re gonna dig out of me, you won’t get them. Stop trying to crawl into my head. You won’t like what’s in there.”

My mouth dries, but I force the words out anyway. “I’ll be the judge of that.” I murmur. "I’m not as easy to scare off as you think. So quit trying to."

His eyes flare, dark fire flashing through them, and for a second, just a second, I swear he almost breaks. But then he clamps down, lips pressed tight, chest rising fast. Silent. Furious. Conflicted.

And God.... tempting enough to drive me insane.

There’s something about Jax when he’s cornered....raw edges, volatile and simmering. It’s reckless to want him like this. And yet every inch of me does.

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. He just stares at me, like he’s waging a war no one else can see. But beneath it, there’s something flickering he can’t cage. And it makes him even more devastating.

Riled-up Jax is… lethal. And I hate how much I want him like this.

He scoffs, shaking his head, like I’ve already failed some unspoken test. “You’re enjoying this, aren't you?” he bites out, accusatory.

“Maybe I am.” I don’t flinch. Don’t back down.

His glare sharpens, his whole body taut with tension. I can see it, his restraint shredding, breath uneven, fists curling at his sides.

My hands twitch uselessly at my sides. I should step back. I don’t. Neither does he.

He shakes his head, muttering something sharp under his breath. Then his gaze drags over my mouth like a threat.

He moves first.

A frustrated sound tears out of him as his hand wraps around my neck and his mouth crashes onto mine, hard, hot, devastating. It’s not a kiss, it’s a fight disguised as one. His tongue demanding, his anger burning into me with every frantic press.

And still, I kiss him back. Desperately. Because beneath all that fury, I can taste the truth he’s trying so damn hard to bury.

His kiss is bruising, punishing. But there’s hunger....raw, consuming. And I can’t help it, I melt into the fire, even as it scorches me alive.