Illuminated

VERONICA

~“Swing me these sorrows,”~

~And try delusion for a while,”~

~It’s such a beautiful lie…”~

~– Hurts~

***

Warren came out to our group of friends the same day he announced his engagement.

We gathered at the apartment Amy and I shared, everyone dropping their plans to hear his big news.

Warren confessed that he’d been pretending to have commitment issues to avoid questions about his sexuality.

He also admitted that he’d never really kissed a girl; he’d used the “I’m gay but not out” excuse to get the girls we’d seen him with to play along.

Then, once everyone had recovered from their surprise, he introduced Ransom as his new fiancé. None of us, not even Kyle or Nick, made him feel anything less than accepted and loved.

It felt like I was living in a daily soap opera with all the drama unfolding.

First, there was Laura’s pregnancy, which she’d only confided in me about. Then, Warren’s coming out and engagement. And on top of all that, my own drama with Jax, Drake, and Oliver.

I’d had enough. But the drama just kept coming.

When Monday rolled around, I was weighed down with emotional turmoil.

I got to work later than I should have, and as soon as I stepped off the elevator into the Illustration and Design department, everyone who saw me stopped and stared.

I felt a wave of tension as I walked past the hostile glares from the girls and the curious looks from the guys.

When I got to my office, I understood why I was suddenly the center of attention.

A large bouquet of deep red roses was waiting on my desk, right on top of my keyboard. Next to it was a note: “Looking forward to seeing you again – D.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the D stood for. My cheeks flushed and my face twisted in distaste as I picked up the bouquet with just two fingers.

I hated flowers. They were pointless, and now Drake thought they were something I’d find charming and sweet.

Well, he was wrong.

“Nix?” Jo, who was sitting in her office next to mine, asked with concern. “Where are you taking those? I already found a vase.”

She pointed to a fine piece of China on her own desk.

“I’m throwing them away, of course,” I said through gritted teeth, “I’m not a fan of flowers.”

“No, don’t throw them away!” Jo looked horrified at the idea. “They’re beautiful! If you don’t want them, I’ll take them.”

I tossed the damn bouquet to her. “Enjoy, pal.”

Looking extremely pleased, Jo arranged the roses in the vase.

I crumpled up the note and tossed it into the nearest trash can before settling into my chair and opening my computer, checking my emails and freezing in place.

I had five new emails; one was from Jax asking me to meet him in his office later today.

Another was from Drake. I had no idea how he got my email address, but he was wishing me a good day and asking if I liked the flowers.

The next was surprisingly from Oliver, telling me we needed to talk.

The other two were spam, thank God.

Leaning back in my chair, I resisted the urge to bang my head on my desk. My expression must’ve been amusing because Jo gave me a worried look.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Never been better,” I replied, my voice almost a growl. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re scowling,” she pointed out.

“I’m not scowling,” I said, scowling.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked, studying my face.

Instead of answering with another lie, I opened a new document and started translating.

***

The hours seemed to drag on.

When lunchtime finally arrived, I practically leapt out of my chair to join Jo, Erin, and Lucy in the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was crowded when we walked in, but we managed to snag our usual table.

“So, Veronica,” Erin started as soon as we’d settled down with our lunches, “who sent you those gorgeous roses?”

Warning: Danger Zone. Proceed with caution.

“Just some guy,” I said nonchalantly.

“It can’t be just ~some guy~,” Lucy argued. “No ~some guy~ would send you those specific flowers.”

Jo nodded in agreement while she chewed her sandwich.

While I liked these three, I didn’t feel close enough to them to start unloading my problems. So, I decided to stick to the facts and only the facts.

“He’s someone I had a fling with,” not entirely the truth, but not a lie either. “He’s decided he has a crush on me and wants to keep me all to himself.”

Or so I suspected, which was the main reason I was planning to run in the opposite direction as fast as I could. While Warren’s commitment issues had been a ruse, mine were very real.

The three of them sighed in unison at my explanation.

“He sounds dreamy,” Lucy said, “what does he look like?”

Taking a bite of my sandwich, I said, “He’s tall, muscular, has red hair and blue eyes. He’s cute, I guess. But not really my type.”

“Sounds amazing,” they sighed again.

“He’s really not that good-looking,” I said, downplaying his looks significantly. He was actually pretty hot, but as I’d pointed out, he wasn’t my type. Men with red hair just didn’t do it for me.

“Hey, look at this,” Erin suddenly said, looking past me. “There’s Hailey the Ho, hanging all over Mr. Cole and Mr. Bryson again.”

Just hearing her name made me tense up. Still, I slowly turned around to see Hailey walking into the cafeteria with both Oliver and Jax.

To my surprise, though, she was talking to thin air, because both men seemed preoccupied. Suddenly, as if they could feel my gaze on them, they both looked my way.

Not wanting to prolong the exchange of looks, I quickly turned away and focused intently on my half-eaten sandwich.

The sight of Hailey Pritchard, with her fiery auburn hair and coppery eyes, made my stomach churn as if I’d just downed two Big Macs. I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone.

Hailey and food just didn’t mix in my mind.

“They’re looking at you,” Jo said, her gaze unreadable. “Mr. Cole and Mr. Bryson, I mean. They’re looking at you.”

I shrugged, feigning indifference.

“You’re really a hit with the guys, huh?” Erin chimed in. I looked up to find all three of them staring at me, their expressions bordering on accusatory.

“I’m really not,” I replied cautiously. “Mr. Cole and Mr. Bryson just know me from outside of work, that’s all.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah,” Erin jumped in, “how come we didn’t know that?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I tried to downplay it. “Mr. Bryson—Oliver—is my stepbrother. Mr. Cole and I have known each other through him, that’s it.”

Jo suddenly asked, “Are you fucking him?”

Taken aback, I looked at her. “Fucking who?”

“Mr. Cole,” she clarified, her gaze unreadable again.

A sense of dread curled in the pit of my stomach.

“No, I’m not fucking Mr. Cole,” I said slowly, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “Our relationship is strictly professional, I assure you.”

Finally, they all seemed to relax and Jo’s eyes regained their usual warmth.

“That’s good then,” she said, almost too cheerfully, “mixing work with pleasure never ends well, after all.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, sneaking another glance at Jax, who was now sitting with Oliver, Hailey, and a few others. “Those two should stay separate, no matter what.”

The conversation resumed its normal pace after that awkward moment, and when we finished eating, the three went back to work and I found myself knocking on Jax’s office door.

He called me in, and I entered, closing the door behind me. He was sitting at his desk, reviewing some files, and looked up as I approached.

He smiled. “How are you today, Miss Tanner?”

~Awful.~

“Good,” I replied curtly. “So, what’s this meeting about?”

“Have a seat,” he instructed, and I complied. He got straight to the point, thankfully.

“A week from now, a Russian delegation is coming over from our Russian counterpart company. The CEO speaks English well enough, but his employees don’t.”

“That’s where you come in.” He gave me a small smile. “You’re going to be our on-site translator. You’ll attend all the meetings with them, and you’ll translate everything they say word for word.”

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. “What’s the catch?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’s a catch, Miss Tanner?”

“Well, by your tone of voice, there’s more to this than just translating, Mr. Cole,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “It sounds like you want me to spy on them.”

He grinned, causing a flutter in my stomach.

“You got it.” He rose from his seat and began to circle the desk slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

“I need you to be our mole. I need to know if they’re discussing things in Russian to keep us in the dark, and whether it affects us or not.”

“I see,” I muttered, tensing as Jax paused his prowling behind my chair.

He placed his hands on either side of me, leaning in so his head was next to mine and his lips brushed my ear.

“You’re our key player in this cooperation,” he murmured, his voice low and suggestive, sending a shiver down my spine.

“You need to be extremely perceptive and observant. I can’t afford to miss any information if you mess up.”

“I understand, Mr. Cole,” I said, my voice strained.

“Good,” he replied, his lips dangerously close to my throat.

I stood up abruptly.

“Well, if that’s all, Mr. Cole, may I be dismissed?” I asked, my voice shaky.

He was silent for a few long seconds.

Finally, “Sure.”

Just like the first time I was dismissed in his office, when I reached the door and was about to open it, I felt Jax’s heat against my back.

His hands pressed against the door, clicking it shut. He reached next to me to lock it.

Before I could protest, one of his hands snaked up my body and clenched my jaw, tilting my head to the side.

The other one slowly made its way down my front, toward my abdomen, and then into the front of my pants.

“Stop,” I rasped out, but he didn’t listen. He pressed his mouth to the crook of my neck and sighed against my skin.

A shiver swept over me, tingles spreading from my lower abdomen all the way up to my breasts, where my nipples hardened against my sweatshirt.

Then, without asking for permission, he shoved his hand into my panties and cupped my entrance.

I gasped out a curse, another shiver rippling through me.

My hands were pressed to the door, stabilizing my body, while Jax pushed one, two fingers inside me, pumping in and out mercilessly.

That’s when I had to stifle a few loud moans that would’ve been heard beyond the door.

“Don’t hold back,” Jax murmured against my skin, his movements growing more intense. “I want to hear you.”

My body felt like a melody only Jax knew how to play, and he was playing it beautifully.

But then again, it was a melody.

It wasn’t mine.

It was his.

And I didn’t want it to be his.

I needed my body to be mine again. Jax needed to stop.

But he didn’t stop. He kept playing me like a song, kept teasing me relentlessly. He needed to stop, and he needed to stop now.

“Stop,” I whispered as an unexpected wave of pleasure began to build in my stomach. “Please…”

He didn’t stop. Instead, he moved faster, pushing me closer to the edge.

Suddenly, panic gripped me, making every muscle in my body tense up.

I couldn’t let go, no matter how much my body wanted to. My mind was screaming at me to make him stop. I needed to regain control over my body or I would shatter.

He needed to let me go.

Jax mistook my tension for pleasure. He thought he was giving me what I wanted. He thought he was making me happy.

He didn’t realize I was too messed up for him to understand.

“Jax,” I said, my voice shaky, horrified to find tears welling up in my eyes. “Jax, y-you have to stop.”

This time, he did stop. He froze.

“Veronica?” he asked, his voice raw with desire.

But I couldn’t give him what he wanted, not if I wanted to keep my sanity.

“I can’t,” I whispered, my heart pounding, “Jax, I can’t.”

He pulled away from me.

My body trembled with unfulfilled desire, and my mind would’ve sighed in relief if not for the wave of panic that washed over me.

Once he stepped back, I collapsed to my knees, shaking as if I was freezing, my lips trembling, everything in me quivering and whimpering.

“Veronica–” Jax started, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

I flinched and before I could stop myself, I yelled, “Don’t touch me!”

He pulled his hand back.

I slumped on the floor, crying into my hands, feeling both in control and out of control, feeling like my life was slipping away from me, yet coming back with more force than I could handle.

“Veronica,” Jax’s voice was full of despair, “tell me what I did wrong.”

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.

“Please,” he pleaded, “it hurts to see you like this. Tell me how I can help.”

Finally, I managed to calm down enough to whisper, “I’m not your responsibility.”

He almost growled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gathering all my emotions behind a wall of coldness, which took me a few long moments, I stood up, no longer crying and hyperventilating.

Feeling the cold instead of the overwhelming emotions was comforting. I turned to look Jax in the eyes and found him leaning against his desk, looking like his heart was about to break.

I gave him a hollow look.

“You can’t help me, Jax,” I said flatly, “you’re not my boyfriend, not my lover, not anything to me. I don’t want you to be anything to me. So don’t interfere in my life anymore.”

“And please, don’t touch me again, because apparently I can’t handle your touch.”

He looked like I’d just slapped him, but then, like every time he felt vulnerable, I was learning, he put up a wall between his feelings and me, just like I’d done, and looked at me with flat, cold eyes.

“You’ve made yourself clear, Miss Tanner,” he said coolly. “You can go now.”

Once I was back in my own office, I felt my old instincts rise again, telling me that the only control I would ever have over my life would be through another method.

One that didn’t involve men or books or other distractions.

A method I’d promised myself I would never use again.

It was tempting, so, so tempting, to use that method again.

And by thinking that, I started to suspect that any interaction with Jax—professional, personal, anything—might not be good for me.

And if that was the case, I needed to stay away from him.