Page 22 of A Ruthless Bargain

“You don’t trust me to do it right,” I said, my anger dissipated.

“You are not who I do not trust.” He released by face and stepped backward. “Shall we have a demonstration of what could happen?” His blue eyes flashed brighter.

“Um,” I mumbled, unsure where this might go, and not sure if I was ready.

“You say you are ready to go on an apprehension.”

His declaration jumpstarted me and I stepped to him. “Show me what you got.”

“Sit on the bed,” he ordered and I complied. “Let me get something.” He turned from me and began rummaging through a briefcase he sometimes used, mainly because it fit the federal agent image, and withdrew a piece of plastic about the size of a half sheet of paper.

I flinched at the sight, remembering the painful result when I touched the aelker it held.

“I see you remember.”

“How could I forget? It felt like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical outlet.”

Jax sat to my right on the bed, turning the piece of plastic over and over in his hands.

My eyes remained glued to it, mesmerized by the sliding around of the different liquid colors.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low.

“Ready for what?” My voice sounded shaky, even though I knew Jax wouldn’t hurt me. At least not on purpose.

He held the plastic sheet in his right hand, placing his fingers directly onto an iridescent red section. Of course, because his physiology allowed interpretation of the transmission, he wasn’t shocked. He held his left hand aloft above my right arm, motionless against my jeans. He slowly lowered his hand toward my arm.

A distinct hum reached my ears a moment before an arc of electricity leaped from his fingers to the skin on my arm.

“Ouch!” I yelped and skittered backward on the bed, hitting the headboard. I cradled my arm in the other, watching the angry red mark fade with the pain of the electricity.

“You did not like that.”

“No, of course not! Why would you do that?” I was wounded, in more ways than one. He knew that would hurt. And did it anyway.

“I am not trying to hurt you,” Jax said, reading my mind as it seemed he often could. “I promise.” He scooted closer, stopping to sit cross-legged next to where I now had my knees hugged to my chest. “Watch.”

My eyes tracked his movements as he lifted his fingers from the iridescent red liquid and placed them instead in the blue. He reached his other hand for me and I recoiled.

“Trust me,” he said, in his low, rumbling voice.

I nodded, mute, and held out my arm. My eyes closed involuntarily in anticipation of a shock of pain when the familiar hum reached my ears. A light snap, like a rubber band, hit my arm. My eyes flew back open. “That didn’t hurt,” I exclaimed.

“How did it feel?”

“Do it again,” I said, instead of answering, stretching my legs out on either side of Jax and reaching out with both arms. This time I kept my eyes open.

Jax slowly lowered his fingers and danced them along my arm.

The blue arc of electricity was smaller than the red had been, and the power was intoxicating. A ribbon of excitement wound its way through me. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, revealing my lace bra. I didn’t have to say what I wanted. Jax tapped his fingers along the swell of my breasts, then along the underside. The electricity followed where his fingers landed. I stared down to watch the arcs of energy, and a moan escaped.

He reached around to unclasp my bra, the electric snaps on my back stirring enough heat that I wondered if I could orgasm just with electricity play. My breasts freed, Jax tapped one finger on a nipple.

“Oh my god,” I breathed, my hands flexing open and closed, grabbing at the flowered bedspread. He pushed me gently backward, and the feel of the electricity caused me to arch my pelvis at him.

“Not yet,” he said, though he reached for the button of my jeans. When his fingers touched it, a muted electric zap pulsed through the jeans fabric. It zapped again when he pulled the zipper down, ever so slowly, the electric buzz more sustained. He stopped.

“What—” I started to ask, before a seductive smile bloomed on my face. “I’ve got this.” He couldn’t grip both sides of my tight jeans to remove them, and he didn’t want to release the aelker from his other hand. I slid my jeans over my hips, swinging a leg over so that I was sitting on the side of the bed again. I stood, checked to make sure Jax was watching, and then slowly shimmied out of my jeans, leaving them in a pile on the brown and gray carpet. I looped a finger in my panties.