Confessions
MEL
"Axton, I?—"
His admission about keeping the photo feels like a crack in the wall he's built around himself. I take a step towards him, then another, drawn by the vulnerability in his eyes.
He holds up a hand, stopping me. "Mel, wait. There's... there's something I need to say."
I hold my breath, knowing it's time for us to face the truth, no matter how scary it might be.
Axton opens his mouth, then closes it again. His brow furrows, and I can see him struggling to find the right words. He helps me out of my coat and hat as if he needs the time to collect his words.
And I wait.
He hangs my stuff on a nearby hook with care, and for once, I'm not talking or trying to force him into a mold I've etched in stone.
It seems it's all I've been doing—most days, to my dismay. But right now, I get why he's disoriented because it's hard to put words to what he felt but hasn't been given the opportunity to exist.
It feels sort of like faith. Even though logic and evidence point me in one direction—to take my ass back home, my heart finds the possibility of letting Axton go unfathomable.
This might make me a basic bitch. But I've waited this long, and it's taken this season to realize my life is complete except for the space in my heart waiting for him.
I asked Black Santa for Axton O'Connor because my life is full of love, and purpose, and now I want passion. And I want it with him .
"I've been..." he starts, then shakes his head. "Dammit, Mel. I'm no good at this."
I want to reach out, to bridge the gap between us, but something holds me back. There's still so much unsaid we need to work through.
Axton takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders like he's preparing for battle. "I've been avoiding my past and what I feel for you."
I lean forward, drinking in every word, and then he looks away, his jaw clenching.
"But that's not why you're here, is it?" he asks, his tone shifting. "Something's wrong."
The abrupt change should throw me off balance. But instead of going off I need to keep him talking.
"You disappeared," I say, turning to face him. It's not a question.
Axton avoids my gaze, motioning to the couch. "I had a job up north I had to oversee?—"
"For over a week?" Frustration bleeds into my voice. "We were worried sick, Axton. I was worried."
Guilt flashes across his face. "I should've called. I didn't?—"
"Think?" I'm on the verge of losing my temper, and that will only make him shut down. For the moment, I'll let it go. "I'm not here to fight. I need your help."
Axton's posture shifts, his body tensing as he scans me from head to toe. His green eyes darken, a mix of concern and something fiercer flickering in their depths.
"What happened?" His voice is low, almost a growl. He takes a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides like he wants to reach out but is holding himself back.
I blink, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. "I... nothing's wrong, exactly. I just?—"
"Don't lie to me, Mel." He cuts me off, his gaze still roaming over me as if searching for hidden injuries. "Someone hurt you?"
The possessiveness in his tone sends a shiver through me. It's equal parts thrilling and frustrating. "Axton, I'm fine. Really. I came here because?—"
He moves closer, invading my personal space. His warmth radiates off him in waves, and I catch a whiff of a crazy mixture of soap and shampoo.
"Tell me," he demands softly.
I lower to the couch and pull out Lena's crumpled notes, spreading them on the coffee table.
"It's about Lena. These were in her bag. It looks like shipping codes and look," I point to get himself to shift those intense eyes off me, or I'll melt into a fuckin' puddle. "There's a mention of Ian."
Axton sits beside me, his leg brushing mine. He studies the papers as if he doesn't feel the current flowing between us. His expression shifts, becoming focused and analytical. It's a side of him I rarely see—the tactician, the expert.
"These aren't just codes," he mutters, tracing a line. "They're coordinates. And these numbers... they match patterns we've seen in weapons trafficking."
"Weapons? You think Lena was mixed up in that?"
He shakes his head, frowning. "Maybe not directly. But she might've stumbled onto something big." His green eyes lock onto mine, intense. "Mel, this could be dangerous. If Ian's involved?—"
"All the more reason to figure it out," I insist. "Those kids need their mother. If she's in trouble…"
Axton stands abruptly, wincing as he does. He tries to hide it, but I catch the flash of pain.
"It's not that simple. This is way above our pay grade. We need to involve the authorities."
"And if they're too slow?" I challenge, standing too. "What if Lena doesn't have that kind of time?"
He turns, bringing him closer, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him. His jaw clenches.
"I can't let you get involved. It's too dangerous."
"Let me? Axton, I'm already involved. Those kids are staying with us in my parents' house. Besides, you don't get to disappear for days, and then dictate what I can and can't do."
He flinches. "Mel, I'm trying to protect you."
"I don't need protection," I say, voice low and fierce. "I need your help. I need you to trust me."
Axton's eyes search mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths.
"I do trust you," he says, voice rough. "More than anyone. That's why I can't... I can't risk losing you."
The admission hits me hard. Axton's hands come up to caress my cheek. But as he reaches out, he grimaces, a hiss of pain escaping through clenched teeth.
"You're hurt," I breathe, anger forgotten. "What happened?"
He tries to wave it off. "It's nothing. Just a job that got... complicated."
I reach for him, and this time he doesn't pull away. My fingers ghost over his arm, finding the edge of a bandage beneath his sleeve.
"This doesn't look like nothing, Axton. Let me see."
For a moment, I think he'll refuse. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods. I help him ease off his shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruises and a hastily wrapped bandage around his ribs.
"Jesus, Axton," I breathe. "What the hell happened to you?"
He won't meet my eyes. "Can't talk about it. But I'm fine, really. You should go home, Mel. It's not safe for you to be here."
I glance out the window at the worsening storm.
"I'm not going anywhere in that. And you're in no shape to drive me." I fix him with a stern look. "So it looks like you're stuck with me. Now sit down and let me take care of those bandages."
He opens his mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. As he sinks onto the couch, I can't help but notice the play of muscles across his chest, the way the firelight casts shadows that accentuate every line and plane.
I swallow hard . The man's body is perfection.
I unwrap his bandages, my fingers brushing against his warm skin. I'm acutely aware of how alone we are. How close we are.
Axton's breath catches as I work, and I'm not sure if it's from pain or... something else. When they meet mine, his eyes are dark with an intensity that makes my panties wet.
This isn't the time to lust over him, but damn . If I'm going to have a breakthrough, it would have to be right now.
The storm rages outside, but in here, it's just us—no distractions, no interruptions.
"Mel…," his voice is low and husky.
"What?" I challenge softly. "What can you not let me do, oh great dictator?"
Axton groans, and I continue.
"Talk about Lena? Discuss this fine weather we're having? Or are trying to tell me what I should or shouldn't feel?"
His hand comes up, cupping my cheek. "You know it's not that simple."
"It could be," I whisper. "But you chose to make everything so fuckin ' complicated. And I'm done fighting you. You want to keep me fifty yards away? Fine. So be it."
For a long moment, we stand in a stalemate, suspended on the edge of something. The fire crackles, snow pelts the windows, and between us, the room is hot .
Axton clears his throat, breaking the spell. "We should... we should look at those notes again. See if we can figure out what Lena stumbled into."
I nod, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment. "Thank you."
As we bend over the papers, I can't help but wonder how long we can keep dancing around this thing between us.
Outside, the wind howls. But in here, a different kind of storm is brewing—one that might just change everything.
Axton closes his eyes, pain etched across his features. When he opens them again, there's a rawness there that takes my breath away.
"I don't deserve you," he says, so quietly I almost miss it.
Before I can argue, he continues, "I've done things, Mel. Things I'm not proud of. The work I do with Raven V... it's not just demolition. We take on jobs that are too sensitive for official channels. Dangerous jobs."
Raven V.
I nod, not entirely surprised. I've suspected for a while that there was more to Axton's work than he let on. And I'm quite sure Everett's in on it, too. But what threw me off was realizing that Owen disappears on the "business trips," too.
I guess the three of them are closer friends than I thought, which makes the Ian connection weirder.
"I figured it was something like that. Axton, it doesn't change how I feel about you."
He shakes his head, frustration clear in the set of his shoulders. "You don't understand. The people we go up against... they wouldn't hesitate to use you to get to me. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you because of me."
I reach up, cupping his face in my hands. He stills at my touch, his eyes locked on mine. "And I couldn't live with myself if I walked away from this—from you —just because it might be dangerous. Axton, life is dangerous. But it's also beautiful and worth fighting for. You're worth fighting for."
For a long moment, he just stares at me, like he's seeing me for the first time. Then, with a groan of surrender, he pulls me to him, and kisses me.
I press my lips to Axton's, pouring years of longing and hope into this kiss. He responds instantly, his mouth hungry against mine. His arms band around me, pulling me flush against his hard body.
"Mel…," he growls, nipping at my bottom lip.
I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair. "Axton, don't..."
I don't have the heart to beg him not to reject me. Not now. Not when this could be the time we need to see past all this bullshit, lies, and secrets. And I'm willing to nurse my broken heart tomorrow, but tonight.
I need him.
Axton groans, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides against mine, hot and demanding. I melt into him, my body on fire everywhere we touch.
His hands roam down my back, gripping my ass and squeezing. I gasp, rocking against him instinctively. The friction sends sparks shooting through me.
"Christ," he hisses, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down my neck. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."
"Don't stop." I tilt my head, giving him better access, dragging my fingers through his hair.
"Never," he promises, his voice rough.
I gasp as Axton's teeth brush against my neck, sending electricity through my body. A soft whimper escapes my lips, and I feel him tense.
"Mel, I..." His voice is raw, conflicted. He pulls back slightly, his green eyes stormy with desire and fear. "I can't keep fighting this. Fighting us."
I hold my breath, afraid to shatter this moment.
Axton cups my face, his calloused hands gentle. "I've wanted you for so long. All of you. Your light, your strength, your heart." He swallows hard. "But I'm scared, Mel. Scared of hurting you, of not being enough."
I lean into his touch. "Axton..."
He shakes his head, determination settling over his features. "But I'm a fucking bastard because I want everything with you, Mel, even if I don't deserve it."
My heart soars at his words.
"I'm yours, Ax," I tell him. "I've always been yours."
A low growl rumbles in his chest. In one swift motion, he lifts me onto his lap. I straddle him, careful of his injuries, but he doesn't seem to care about the pain.
"Fuck," I breathe, feeling his hard length pressed against me. Even through our clothes, the sensation is overwhelming.
Axton captures my mouth again, the kiss deep and desperate. His hands slide under my shirt, calloused palms skimming over my heated skin. I arch into his touch, craving more.
I rock my hips, grinding down on him. The friction is delicious, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. Axton groans, his fingers digging into my hips.
"Mel," he pants against my lips. "If you keep that up, I won't be able to stop."
I grin, nipping at his jaw. "Who says I want you to stop?"
His eyes darken with lust. "You sure about this, sweetheart? Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to hold back."
In answer, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. Axton's gaze rakes over me, hungry and appreciative. His hands come up to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples through my bra.
"Gorgeous," he murmurs. "Fucking gorgeous."
I moan, arching into his touch. "Please, Ax. I need you."
He doesn't need to be told twice. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking and biting as his hands work to unclasp my bra. We're both topless.
I run my hands over his chest, careful of his bandages. The muscles beneath my palms are hard, sculpted from years of military service and hard work.
Axton's lips trail down to my breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. I cry out, my hips jerking against him.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, switching to the other breast. "Let me hear you."
I grind down on him harder, chasing the building pressure. Axton's hands grip my ass, guiding my movements. The friction is incredible, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
"Ax," I gasp. "Oh… shit ."
He looks up at me, his green eyes dark with desire. "Come for me, Melanie."
His words, combined with the delicious pressure against my clit, send me over the edge. I cry out, my body shuddering as waves of pleasure crash over me. Axton holds me through it, murmuring words of praise and encouragement.
As I come down from my high, I realize Axton is still hard beneath me. I reach for his belt, but he catches my wrist.
"Not here," he says, his voice strained. "I want to take my time with you, sweetheart. Do this right."
I nod, understanding. We're both breathing hard, our bodies trembling with need. Axton cups my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone.
"I love you, Melanie," he whispers, the words sounding like they've been torn from his very soul. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
My heart soars, even as tears prick at my eyes. "I love you too, you stubborn man."
He pulls back slightly, brushing a thumb across my cheek. "I can't promise it'll be easy. My work, the risks..."
I silence him with a soft kiss. "I'm not asking for easy. I'm asking for you. All of you, Axton. The good, the bad, the complicated. Just you."
A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "I like the sound of that."