The storm outside raged harder after midnight. Rain lashed at the windows angrily. Thunder cracked like gunshots. Inside the apartment the only light came from the single lamp in the living room and the faint blue glow from the TV that nobody was watching.
Jaxon kicked the front door shut behind him. Water dripped from his black hoodie, soaked through his work boots, and left dark footprints across the hardwood. He was massive, six-foot-six, two-hundred-sixty pounds of dense, corded muscle earned from years swinging hammers and hauling steel on construction sites. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, jaw clenched tight, hazel eyes already burning with the kind of hunger that had been building all day.
Nadia was waiting exactly where he told her to be.
She knelt in the center of
