Part of Me (Jessa & Paxton #1) Read Online Free Page A

a very traditional, rare but not unheard of, way. He’s got a strong chin and dimples in both cheeks, his teeth are straight and white, his eyes are a nice shade of blue, his dark, wavy hair is always perfectly styled. And Paxton’s right; he worked all summer on his tan. He works out every day to keep his body toned. He’s six feet tall, exactly. He’s hot in the most expected, boring form of the word. And girls love him; they stare at him and maybe they imagine hanging off his arm and being his girlfriend. He’s perfect boyfriend material.
    But Paxton… he’s a whole different kind of beast. If we are going tit for tat against Dylan, God help him, I will break it down.
    Paxton is at least six-foot-two, so he doesn’t have to (and would never think to) make sure his back is straight and his calves are extended in order to ball with the tall dude that is getting too friendly with you. He definitely doesn’t spend time in the gym but he’s physical. His muscles are lean and defined but do not bulge and are not a direct reflection of his ego. His skin is a beautiful shade of tan; not because he laid out in the sun but because it’s how he was born. The top of Paxton’s hair is long and, depending on the day, is all messed up and sexy, or slicked back and badass, or cutely flopping lazily to one side. But the bottom is shaved short and there is something about being able to see his strong neck and the exact shape of the base of his skull that, for some unknown reason, is tempting. Paxton’s eyes aren’t blue, they are light gray. So light that sometimes they look like clear pools surrounding his black irises. His eyes aren’t friendly like Dylan’s. They are haunting and enigmatic.
    Paxton likes tattoos. They start on his palms and cover the underside of both forearms. They snake around his upper arms and over his shoulders and under his collar bone and over his back; like they’re creeping. Like they’re growing. Like maybe someday he will be nothing more than a beautiful illustration of his ambiguous life.
    All of the above add to his insanely hot status. But really, for me, it’s the lips.  They are big and fat and it’s hard to look at him and not want to suck on them just to see what delicious thing will come out. Like candy. Paxton’s lips are like candy.
    I’m partial to his lips because he kissed me with them. I like to give him shit about that night, the first time I met him, because he was such a god awful prick. If there is one thing I lie to Paxton about it’s that that kiss left me unsatisfied and definitely not wanting more. The truth is, when he reached out and grabbed me in a way that felt more angry than affectionate, I liked it. The way he pulled on my hair and looked at me like he was going to murder me before he bit down on my bottom lip and then sucked it, did something to my insides. When his tongue forced itself into my mouth and he kissed me, it felt primeval; it felt like we were just bones gnashing together. It was violent, it was awful in some ways, but damn if it wasn’t the most exhilarating moment of my life.
    And that’s the problem with Paxton. That’s the part of him that makes him near-impossible to resist. He screams danger. He screams come with me and I will show you shit you have never seen before . There is a fear in being with him, like you are a step closer to death, like you are definitely doing something you shouldn’t be doing. And for some reason, being that close to danger, to death, is exhilarating. That part of him I can’t explain. It’s in his demeanor and in his expressions. It’s his voice and his eyes. It’s just who he is. I can’t explain it, but I get it. Trust me, I totally get it.
    I spent the first part of our year together in River Bluff trying to figure out how to work around it and see him as something more. It took me a while to realize Paxton is a damn good friend. That there is a soft heart and a damaged soul under that exterior. And