All Yours Daddies (by Mirabella) novel Chapter 17

JAXON

Her soft hazel eyes glisten with fresh tears when I ask her the question.

I frown, and my grip on her hand tightens. Malachi reaches for my shoulder, but I don’t respond to him.

If that motherfucker laid his hands on her…

Sarah slowly tries to pull away from my grip, but it’s only when Malachi squeezes my shoulder that I let her. I watch with keen eyes as she wipes her tears with the back of her palms.

I stay silent despite the storm brewing inside me. Hoping, praying—fuck! I don’t even believe in that, but I need her to say the word, the name I’m itching to hear. That’s the only way I’ll be able to put an end to his stupidity…for good.

When she drops her hands to her sides, she looks up at us. Her eyes fall on Malachi first, and I don’t look at him, but I know his eyes have silently warned her not to speak, at least not yet.

Slowly, she turns to Ronan, and I can feel that he’s done the same thing.

Her eyes finally land on me, and she forces a smile.

“It’s nothing serious, Jaxon. Just…” she pauses to clear her throat.

“Work stress.”

BULLSHIT. EVERY FUCKING WORD OF IT.

I force a smile, leaning backwards into my seat.

“You’re not a very good liar now, are you?”

Her eyes widen in shock, but before she can speak, Roman sits up.

“Are you alright, kitten? Do you need anything?”

She sniffs in her tears and shakes her head. I can see the tears she’s fighting behind her soft hazel eyes shaped like that of a dove’s.

Sarah Wellspring is beautiful in every way a woman can be… in every way a person can be. From the wild cascade of red waves that crown her head to the delicate curve of her small, perfect feet.

She is art, poetry, and fire wrapped in soft delicate skin. Her soul is a beautiful balance—peace laced with fury, overflowing with a love so deep it could drown you.

We want to be the ones she drowns.

How could anyone ever think to hurt her? How could that bastard bear to touch her with hands only fit to touch the dirty whores he disrespects her with?

If she were ours, we would never let her forget what it feels like to be wanted…truly wanted. Not owned. Not tolerated. Desired, utterly and completely.

By the heavens.

We want her. We want her more than We’ve ever wanted anything. So I do not understand why my brothers are so reluctant to do what needs to be done.

They keep holding her like she’s fragile. She’s not. She’s fire. And I don’t care if I get burnt. If they won’t do what needs to be done, I will. I always fucking will—for her.

“I have all I’ve got here,” she looks down at her plate of food.

“Thanks. But you guys really didn’t have to come here. I can manage fine on my own.”

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