Triple Power Play (Obsessed Players Club #1)

33. Aurora

THIRTY-THREE

AURORA

This meeting with my agent is an absolute clusterfuck. I regret pulling on my big girl panties and gathering everyone in a room, virtual or otherwise, to hash everything out. Luckily, Felicity, the public relations wizard that she is, handles my pregnancy, the bickering between Jackson and Emily, and the addition of Ricky with ease.

“I refuse to be involved in anything where this giant dick is in control.” Emily nods toward Jax.

“Emily,” Felicity says. “I understand this is difficult for you, but the reality is, Aurora is my client, and she chooses to have Jackson involved as her partner. It’s phenomenal for publicity, and unfortunately, you’ll have to take it or leave it. Jackson is here to stay.”

We’re seated on the couch in my small, shared condo, and I intertwine my fingers with Jax’s. Ricky stands behind us, arms crossed over his broad chest. Emily is in a chair beside me while Felicity is on the laptop positioned on the coffee table between us.

A tight, unnatural smile stretches across Emily’s lips, her eyes cold. “ Is he here to stay?”

“Yes, Em.”

After Jackson’s confession, my mind is made up. I’m not backing down from this. If this is what he needs, I’m seeing it through. We can work this out.

My heart is broken for him, for us, and a heavy sense of guilt weighs on me. I should’ve done something .

Instead of believing he was partying and cheating on me, I could’ve woken to an officer telling me he’d ended his life. That would’ve devastated me.

I never want that to happen.

“So you lied about him not being the father. You lied about not getting back together. And you lied about not moving in with him. Why?”

Tears gather in my eyes, and my face heats with humiliation. I wish I didn’t have to lie to her about Ethan, but I’m not sure I trust her anymore, especially with the way she keeps hurling accusations.

When I don’t answer, she continues. “He walks back into your life, and you drop everything. For him ? Do you enjoy the way he controls you? Pushing away your friends, trapping you, deciding when and where you work?” She gestures toward Ricky. “He even has a spy following you.”

“Em…” My voice sounds weak, and the room spins. What is wrong with me? Why does this keep happening?

Jax draws me to his chest. “Emily, as usual, you’re wrong.” He directs his focus to Felicity. “Can we wrap this up? Aurora needs to eat.”

Ricky hands me a bottle of water, and I flash him a grateful smile.

Felicity and Jackson discuss whatever documents his agent and PR team need.

“Our biggest hurdle is coming up,” she says to me. “I have a designer in mind who’ll work with your pregnancy. We’ll talk more when we meet in New York. You two keep doing what you’re doing to attract the paparazzi. Maybe indulge in some PDA during dinner. After fashion week, I’ll do my best to schedule everything on the West Coast.”

Felicity signs off, and that’s it. One giant problem defeated.

But another still glares at me from five feet away. I understand why she’s furious, I do. We’re canceling several commitments, which means reduced income. I get it. But that doesn’t mean we need to end everything.

I drain the water bottle and rise from the couch on shaking legs. I turn to my best friend since middle school. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

She curls her lip. “No, you’re not, but you will be. And when you’re stuck at home with a baby while he’s out partying and fucking around, don’t come crawling back to me.”

Her words are poison-tipped claws, gnawing at my deepest fears and insecurities. Tears flood my eyes, and my stomach cramps, but I refuse to break down in front of her. I grit my teeth and keep my head high as I stride to my room to pack every bag I own.

Then, to my complete surprise, a deep, slightly accented voice says, “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

My gentle, polite bodyguard must loathe my best friend—or former best friend—to break his usual stoic demeanor.

Jax chuckles and leads Ricky into the bedroom. “Pack only what you need, babe. I’ll hire someone to move the rest.”

I nod, my throat tight and eyes averted. I can’t look at him right now. If I do, he’ll see my torment.

We sit inside the SUV in silence, positioned at opposite ends of the backseat. I haven’t stopped thinking about Emily’s spiteful words and the insecurity she unleashed with them.

My life is a mess. I lost my best friend. I won’t always be a model—it was only luck that I was noticed. What if Jackson loses interest in me after I have the baby? What if it becomes too much for him? He’ll always have women available to him. The same goes for Ethan.

I shake my head, dispelling those negative thoughts. This mindset isn’t how I want to live. It has been an unimaginable day, and I’m tired.

A month ago, I couldn’t fathom this being my life.

Pregnant. Back with Jackson. Ethan finding out about the baby, and he’s single. Both wanting to live together. A falling-out with Emily. Jackson confessing to being in a hospital instead of partying and cheating. Jackson disowning Kyle.

What’s next? An alien invasion?

The car comes to a stop and snaps me out of my musing.

“What are we doing here?” I ask as I look up at a tattoo shop .

Jax gives me that boyish smile. “Where do you want it?”

That’s not cryptic or anything. “Where do I want what?”

“Where do you want your name?”

My brows nearly hit my hairline. “My name? On your body?”

He nods. “Where do you want it?”

I know there’s no sense in arguing with him when he has a wild idea, yet I make the effort anyhow. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not necessary.”

“I’m going to regardless. I’ve never cheated on you. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, holding hands with a rookie.” A slow smirk spreads across his face. “I’m an asshole. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but I never touched anyone else. Emily is right about me wanting to control our relationship, but she’s wrong about me screwing around. So, fuck her and choose. Anywhere but my dick. I’m hoping to use that later.”

I release a deep sigh. “How about you pick? And I’ll order food.”

An hour later, I’m feeding Jackson hand-cut fries while the artist brands my name on his chest. He lies shirtless on the table, gazing at me with hearts in his bright-green eyes. His sandy-blond hair is messy from running his fingers through it, and dark stubble highlights his sharp jawline. His jeans sit low on his hips, washboard abs and well-defined muscles on full display.

He’s mouthwatering and crazy and all mine.

It’s the perfect snapshot that strategically makes its way onto social media, thanks to Jackson’s PR team, along with a cropped picture of our fingers intertwined with the word Daylight tattooed on the inside of his ring finger.

It all feels like a fairy tale—a smutty, fucked-up fairy tale.

Later, I wake from a nap to him emerging from the steamy bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist and a pleased smirk. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but I could trace every cut muscle with my tongue.

“Why are you so hot? It’s not fair.”

And he’ll remain hot as hell while I become a blimp. That should be illegal. He should be illegal.

I can’t take my eyes off his impressive body, honed from spending every day on the ice or in the gym. Broad shoulders, bulging pecs, abs for days, and that V-cut that makes women do stupid things.

Then, there’s the scatter of tattoos, which now include my name.

He stops on his way from the bathroom to his closet. Bending down, he places his hands on the mattress. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s you.” I press my lips to his and run my fingers through his damp hair.

“Insane for you,” he breathes against my lips.

Our kiss is unhurried yet filled with intensity, tongues intertwining with soft moans.

The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, and even though I have a million things to do before leaving, this is all that matters.

“I like you this way,” he says between kisses. “Sleepy, relaxed, in my bed waiting for me.”

Different from the last time we were together a few days ago, there’s no rush, no all-consuming hunger to reconnect.

“I like you this way too.” I lick along his jawline to that spot under his ear that has him stretching his neck for more. “Happy, relaxed, coming home to me.”

Trailing open-mouth kisses along his throat, I hear his breathing speed up, feel the rough swallow and the bob of his Adam’s apple, see his hands fist the sheets, and suspect he’s as affected by me as I am him.

The tent he’s pitching is also solid evidence.

“You want me.” I loosen the towel around his waist and let it fall to the floor.

“I always want you. Always .”

His voice is husky, and arousal stirs low in my belly.

I run my tongue and lips over his neck then move down to his chest. He rises to give me access to his stomach, and I make my way lower. I peer up at him, unable to contain my naughty thoughts.

His fingers tangle in my hair. “Damn, those eyes will be the death of me.”

I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, sucking and licking like a lollipop.

“And that fucking mouth,” he groans.

Leisurely, I trace my tongue over his length, finding every ridge and vein. I take him in my mouth, inch by inch, until he hits the back of my throat.

His hips flex, and I relax my muscles and swallow around him.

“Jesus, fuck, baby.”

The sounds of his moans and dirty words only make me wetter.

I increase suction, stroking his shaft in sync with my lips, and gently massage his balls.

It’s not long before he swells in my mouth, and I taste the salty tang of his precum.

“Baby, you gotta stop. I wanna fuck you.”

He tugs my hair, and I release him with an audible, wet pop . I toss my shirt to the floor and lie back on the bed.

He growls and tightens his grip on my thighs, yanking me to the edge of the mattress. “And you wonder why I’m so insane for you? You suck the sanity right out of me.”

I smile and lock my legs around his waist. “I guess I better stop then…for your sanity.”

“Fuck no. Let me die with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

He lifts my body to meet his, biceps bulging and forearms flexing. We’re both wet from me giving him head, and he enters me in one, smooth motion that has us both moaning.

My breasts bounce with his powerful thrusts, and, knowing his eyes are on me, I pinch and pull my nipples. Pleasure shoots straight to my core, and I squeeze around him.

“God, you have the best tits,” he chokes.

“I bet they’d look even better covered in your cum.”

He slams into me, deeper. “Fuck me. Are you trying to make me come?”

“That’s the goal… yes ,” I moan when his hips meet my ass with a hard thrust.

I grip the sheets above my head and dig my heels into the small of his back.

“You’re doing a damn good job, baby.” He angles his hips and hits that spot that has me clenching around him. “But if you want my cum, you need to soak my cock.”