-Sienna-
"We shouldn’t be doing this, Jaxon." I whispered half-breath
My back was already pressed hard against the cold garage wall. The air smelled faintly with a mix of motor oil and dust but there was a sharper smell; Jaxon, his cologne. His body was right there, pressing me against the wall while holding me in place.
We’d just been screaming loudly at each other, full of accusations I wasn’t ready to hear. And then, just like that, the fight had burned out. All that was left now was this heavy, charged silence that made it impossible to think straight.
He didn’t look like someone who should be this close to me. Not with the single bulb swinging above us, throwing shadows over his face and making him look… dangerous. His dark hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead. There was a streak of black grease along his cheek, proof he’d been elbows-deep in some project before I stormed in and everything exploded.
"Why not?" His voice was low and rough, the kind of sound you feel more than hear. His big, warm, and strong hands slid from my shoulders to cup my face. His thumbs brushed my cheeks like he was memorizing them.
"You know why," I managed. My voice sounded thin, unsteady. "The house. The rules. Them."
His mouth tilted into something between a smirk and a challenge. "Fuck the rules."
"It’s not just the rules," I tried again, pressing my hands to his chest. They trembled against him. The muscle under his shirt was solid, alive. "This..us…it’s wrong."
He leaned in, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips.
"Is it?" His eyes held mine, steady and sharp. "Because it feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life just to be this close to you, Sienna."
My chest tightened. My whole body felt too warm, like heat was crawling under my skin.
"You’re an idiot," I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.
"Maybe." His lips twitched into a small, dangerous smile. "But so are you… for pretending you don’t feel this."
And then his lips were on mine.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t patient. It was hard, fast, messy, a collision of anger and want. Every unspoken thing between us came out in that kiss. I should have pushed him away. Instead, my fists gripped his shirt and yanked him closer.
He groaned low and rough and I felt it all the way down my spine. His hands dropped to my waist, dragging me against him until every inch of me was pressed into every inch of him.
"Don’t," I mumbled against his lips, and it was a lie.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. His breath was ragged, hot. "Don’t what? Don’t stop?"
I didn’t answer, because we both knew.
"Say it," he whispered, his mouth grazing my jaw. "Say you don’t want this… and I’ll stop."
"I can’t," I breathed, my voice shaking. "I want… everything."
That was all he needed.
His fingers hooked into the hem of my shirt, tugging it up. The cold air brushed my skin just before his warm, calloused hands did. I shivered, arching into his touch without meaning to.
The shirt was gone in seconds, tossed somewhere in the corner. My bra followed. The dim bulb above us hummed softly, lighting just enough for me to see the way his eyes moved over me. There was no judgment there, no hesitation. Just raw, open hunger.
"Beautiful," he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean for me to hear.
His mouth found my neck, kissing, biting making my head tip back against the wall. My fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tight because my legs suddenly felt too weak to hold me.
The sound of my zipper filled the small space. My jeans slid down, slow at first, then faster as he shoved them off my hips. His hands were firm, sure, like he knew exactly how far I’d let him go.
"Jaxon… if they come home.." My voice broke halfway through the warning.
"They won’t." His words were a growl against my skin. "It’s fine."
It wasn’t fine. That was the point. That was why I couldn’t stop.
The next thing I knew, I was almost bare against him, the cold wall at my back, his heat in front of me. His shirt came off in one rough motion, landing somewhere near my feet. My fingers traced over his chest, down his stomach, feeling the sharp lines of muscle under his skin. He was solid, real, right here.
"I want you, Sienna," he said, his voice deep and certain. "Since the first day I saw you."
His lips crashed into mine again, harder this time. His hands gripped my thighs, and in one smooth motion, he lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist like they’d been waiting to.
We didn’t speak after that, we couldn’t. The air was filled with the sound of our breathing, fast and uneven, and the faint scrape of denim and skin.
He inserted his dick into my pussy while rubbing my clitoris, it was slow at first, almost careful. My hands clutched at his back, nails digging into skin as my head fell forward onto his shoulder.
"Sienna," he said, and my name on his lips sounded like something between a prayer and a curse.
"Jaxon," I breathed back.
The rhythm built faster, harder like all the years of wanting had boiled over at once. Every move sent a rush through me that I couldn’t fight. My eyes squeezed shut, my mouth searching for his, my body meeting every push like it had been made for this.
The world outside the garage didn’t exist anymore. There was no house, no rules, no them. Just us.
When it hit, it stole my breath. I clung to him, shaking, every nerve lit up like I was burning from the inside out. His groan was low, strained, his arms tight around me like he might never let go.
And then… silence.
Just our breathing, ragged and uneven. My head rested on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell under my hands. The cold wall behind me made the heat between us feel almost unbearable.
That was when I heard it.
The faint rattle of an engine. Familiar. Getting closer.
I froze.
The headlights swept past the small window high in the garage wall. The engine cut off.
A car door slammed.
My heart stopped.
"Jaxon," I whispered, my voice thin and sharp with panic.
He went still, eyes snapping to mine. The same fear I felt was written all over his face.
Another door slammed. Heavy footsteps on the driveway.
My stomach dropped to the floor. We were still tangled, half-dressed, the heat of what we’d just done still clinging to our skin.
"Oh my god," I breathed. "They’re home."