From Rags(19)
Author: Suzanne Wright

How could Connor explain to her the muddled, intense emotions that were suddenly circulating through him when he didn’t even understand them himself? All he knew was that he needed the ponce away from her. Almost as if the silly twat was provoking Connor – or had a death wish – he whispered something into her ear. Connor couldn’t contain a growl.

Jaxxon swallowed her gasp. She felt Bruno stiffen. Shit, this could get out of hand very fast; she hadn’t seen Connor this territorial since that day she had been cornered at school by a gang of boys. Jaxxon very discretely used the hand at her side to lightly touch his fingers. “You need to go now,” she said calmly, trying to infuse that sense of calm into him. “Normally I wouldn’t give a shit where we argue but this is a charity event.”

Connor took a deep breath and shuddered. Her touch was like a drug. She was right, he needed to move away before he did something he wouldn’t necessarily regret but that would piss her off. “I won’t be far, Jaxx.” Just as discretely as she had been, he ran his fingertips along her sleek, outer thigh before, with extreme effort, tearing his eyes away from her and stalking off.

Anna’s mouth was still gaping open after having just watched from a front seat as the two alpha personalities clashed. Neither had shown any sign of submission or exhibited fear of the other. It was a match that might to anyone else have seemed hopeless, but Anna believed that if anyone could handle Jaxxon and her strong character, it was Connor McKenzie. A man-man. Once he was gone, the sexual tension quickly dissipated, but Anna noticed that Jaxxon’s agitation levels were so high that her frustration was almost pulsating in the air. There was one way that Anna could think of that would distract her best mate from everything else.

CHAPTER FIVE

With the foul odour of Anna’s vomit clinging to her dress and shoes, Jaxxon was surprised that she hadn’t been sick herself. Usually the acidic smell would set her stomach rolling. Why was it that when people vomited there always seemed to be carrots in there? She had spent the entire night nursing a drunken Anna who, shortly before reaching dreamland, had asked – well, slurred – ‘Did it work? Did looking after me take your mind off the race driving man?’

To think that the girl had purposely put herself in such a helpless state in the hope of diverting Jaxxon’s thoughts was, in a strange way, touching. But Jaxxon was still resolved that she would kick Anna’s boney backside for making herself near catatonic.

As for whether Anna’s idea had actually worked…It had. Sort of. Connor wasn’t a person you could easily ignore. His eyes had continued to bore into her back all evening, sending shivers and tingles and sensations of prickly heat down her spine. But not once had she dared to look back at him. If she had, not only would there have been a very good chance she wouldn’t have been able to break the eye contact, but it would have only given him encouragement. His odd behaviour had her mind reeling. A mind that was too worn out and confused to reel any longer. Now all Jaxxon wanted to do was shower, have a nibble on something bland – her stomach was not going to accept a decent meal anytime soon – and then catch up on her sleep.

The first thing she did as she entered her apartment was relieve herself of the high heels. She allowed her feet to sink into the lush hallway carpet, groaning with pleasure. Jaxxon saw that the light on the landline phone that sat on the hallway cabinet was flashing. No, she wouldn’t check her messages. The outside world was going to be blocked out for a while, she didn’t want to think or hear about anything. In fact, she’d even switch off her mobile phone.

She saw the figure in her peripheral vision a mere second before she heard the voice.

“Late night with the ponce?” It was said with bitterness.

Jaxxon’s heart skipped a beat and her jaw dropped; there was Connor lounging comfortably on her sofa with Bronty sprawled over his lap. The dog lifted his head and looked at her. “Traitor,” she mumbled at him before turning her attention back to the intruder. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” She needn’t bother asking how he got inside. Picking locks had always been a talent of his. She noticed that he was wearing the same blue shirt and black trousers that he had been wearing at the event.

“I told you I wouldn’t be far.”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realise that was code for ‘I’ll break into your apartment’.”

“At first I thought it was the wrong one, I had to double-check with that ever-so-responsive-to-flirting secretary of Miller. This place isn’t you, Jaxx. There’s not a hint of colour anywhere. Everything’s white or mauve. There’s not a single thing out of place. You are no Mary Poppins.”

“If you had a point, I missed it.”

Connor leant forward and clasped his hands together, exploring her with his eyes. That feral glare of hers stole his breath. He was itching to touch her, hold her, kiss her, drive himself into her. His c**k was fully supportive of that idea. “You’re afraid to let yourself get comfortable somewhere.”

“Something tells me that you didn’t break in here to give me your opinion on the interior of the place.”

He rose and stalked over to where she stood at the edge of the living area. “Tell me why you ignored my message.”

Jaxxon crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his confrontational stance. “It’s not obvious that I just didn’t have any interest in meeting up with you?”

“It’s more than that. Last night you treated me like a virtual stranger.”

“Aren’t you? It’s been a long time. Things change. People change.”

“I haven’t.”

“I have.”

He shook his head. “You’ve clammed up a bit, I can see that. But you’re still you. You’re still my Jaxx,” he added softly.

Overcome with fury, she abruptly and forcefully swung one of her balled up fists into his gut – a move that he himself had taught her, a move that he was poorest at blocking. “Bastard,” she said through gritted teeth.

At the impact of her well-delivered punch his breath escaped him in a whoosh and his hands flew to his stomach. “Bloody hell, Jaxx.”

“I’m not your Jaxx. Never was. Now piss off out of here!” She stormed over to the kitchen area. The tap, kettle and mug bore the brunt of her anger as she made herself a coffee – she needed to be doing something while infuriation was riding her. Still my Jaxx? Cheeky sod. He honestly thought that a few years of looking out for her gave him any rights over her? Now that was some messed up logic.