Chapter 22
Pride and Privilege
? Peer Pressure - James Bay, Julia Michaels
Callie
Jaxon unlocks the door, and I dart past him into the house, taking the stairs up to his office. He’s hot on my heels like a predator chasing his prey.
I stop beside the bookshelf and turn to face him. His teeth dig into his bottom lip as I tug a familiar scrap of fabric from my back pocket and wave it in front of me.
“Put it on.”
“You want the cowboy tonight, Callie baby?”
“I think I’ve waited long enough,” I murmur. “If you can’t give me what I want, maybe I’ll find someone who will.”
A low sound like a growl rips from his throat, and I know I have him right where I want him.
Jaxon prowls toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
He tugs off his shirt in one fell swoop, baring himself to me.
His corded muscles and bare chest are on full display for my enjoyment.
Every inch of exposed skin is covered in ink from his neck to the deep ridges that disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.
He swipes his thumb over his bottom lip. “See somethin’ you like?”
My heart is in my throat as I watch each subtle movement.
A single curl flops over his forehead, and his biceps flex as he sweeps it back.
I've watched this man for years. Studied him. Marveled at his perfection. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. He’s looking at me like I'm the beginning and end of everything, and I fear he might just be the end of me.
He pulls the bandana out of my hands and secures it over the lower half of his face.
“This what you wanted, Alley Kat?” His tone is gruff and commanding, sending a riot of shivers coursing up my spine.
“Hat.” The single word comes out all breathy.
He lifts the black cowboy hat from the corner of his desk and places it atop his head. His eyes are cloaked in shadow, but I can still see the hunger in them.
My body reacts instantaneously. Wetness pools between my thighs, and my nipples strain against the coarse fabric of my lacy bra.
He tosses a pillow onto the floor at his feet.
My lips quirk up the barest amount. “Such a gentleman.”
“Not for long,” he says gruffly. “Kneel.”
I draw in a shaky breath and sink to my knees.
The way he commands me with a single word is illogical.
I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before.
It’s like my body recognizes him. Like my heart is reaching out to his, begging for salvation.
I trust him implicitly, and that in itself is something of a miracle.
He gazes down at me with unmitigated heat. “We were supposed to take this slow.”
“I don’t want slow,” I say airily. “I’ve waited too long for slow.”
His thumb strokes over my cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to taste you.”
“Fuck.” The coarse word is muffled by the bandana, but it still sends goose bumps down my arms. “Take it, Callie baby. I’m all yours.”
With trembling hands, I loosen his belt and unbutton his jeans. What the hell did I get myself into? What if I’m not good at this?
I reach my hand beneath his boxers and grip his rigid length. He’s hard as stone, and the piercings press against my palm. A shiver coasts down my spine. I want to know what they feel like inside of me.
I give him a few experimental tugs, adjusting to the feel of him in my hand. The skin is soft to the touch, with pronounced veins running from the base to the head.
“Spit on it,” he commands.
I gather the saliva in my mouth and let it fall onto the dark red tip, already leaking pre cum. My tongue darts out to lick up the salty taste of his arousal. He groans.
I take him into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the head. Sparks skitter across my flesh at the sound of his approving moan.
“That’s it. Take more.”
I suck him into my mouth as far back as I can take him, gagging when I go a little too far. Pulling back, I repeat the motion, careful not to trigger my gag reflex this time. My fist wraps around the base, gripping the length that doesn’t quite fit as I suck and lick in earnest.
I’ve watched Jaxon enough to get a sense of what he likes. I twist my wrist as I take him into my mouth over and over, hollowing my cheeks. With my free hand, I reach lower and start to massage his balls.
He lets out a string of incoherent words. “Holy shit. You take me so well. Knew it would be like this. Fucking made for me.”
I look up at him from beneath my lashes, and the view nearly steals my breath. He’s looking back at me with a feral hunger in his shadowy depths as he grips the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing stopping him from full collapse.
“I’m gonna come down your fucking throat if you don’t pull away,” he says in a strangled voice.
I release him from my mouth with a pop, working him over with my hands. “Do it. Come for me, Cowboy.”
He throws his head back and groans, coating my tongue and chin with his release. His hat tumbles to the floor, forgotten alongside what remains of my inhibitions.
I rise on shaking legs and pull down his bandana to reveal the devastating grin hidden beneath. Jaxon meets me halfway, stealing the last remaining breath from my lungs.
His tongue delves between my lips, seemingly unbothered by the taste of him still lingering there. “Sweet Jesus. Are you sure that was your first time? You sucked the fucking life out of me.”
A giggle bubbles out of me. “I think I’d remember doing something like that before.”
He unties the bandana and gently wipes my face. “It is a goddamn privilege to be your first.”
The raw sentiment unravels me. I thread my fingers through his and pull him toward the sofa.
He settles us into a reclined position with his hand on my hip. I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his hard chest, tracing the delicate line of one of his tattoos. I wonder if he’d let me color these instead of my books.
My eyes catch on a framed photo perched on a bookshelf. It’s unmistakably a younger version of Jax standing next to another young man about his age. If I had to guess, I’d say it was taken somewhere on the ranch.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
His grip on my hip tightens almost imperceptibly, like he’s afraid I might try to escape.
At first, he doesn’t answer. Maybe I overstepped.
“His name was Ryan. He was my best friend.”
Was.
I see them now, more clearly than before. Where my scars are physical, visible for all the world to see if I let them, his are buried beneath the surface of this playful facade he wears. I want to know more—to find out if his damage matches mine in a way.
“What happened to him?” I ask.
He retreats into himself, closing the door on whatever temporary connection we shared. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
A well of emotion pulls me under, and I find myself blinking back tears for the second time today.
It’s stupid, really. I’m not entitled to know his story any more than he’s entitled to mine.
If I examine this moment too closely, I might break, so I shut down the part of me that longs to feel something deeper and let sadness fade into oblivion, listening to Jaxon’s heartbeat beneath my ear.
I wanted to believe I could mean something to someone, but I have a lifetime of evidence that only proves otherwise. What’s one more disappointment?
Jaxon
I glance down at the stunning woman fast asleep on my chest, half convinced I’m still dreaming.
She drifted off after she came all over my hand again, and her body is still draped over me.
I wasn’t going to leave her wanting after she gave me the most mind-blowing blowjob of my life.
Her sweet scent invades my senses, but it’s tinged with hints of my cologne.
I kiss her forehead for one more confirmation.
She’s real, and she’s mine.
Her full lashes flutter against her cheeks, and those gorgeous eyes meet mine.
“Morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?”
She gives me an adorable, tired smile, stretching like a cat. “So good.”
Her sleepy voice reminds me of her quiet pleas as I brought her to the brink of orgasm the night before, and my dick stirs at the memory. For years, I dreamed of waking up just like this; the only thing that would make this better is if I had my cock buried inside of her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
“Trying to decide if I want to feed you or devour you for breakfast.”
I shift onto my side, rolling her beneath me, and press my lips to the tender spot behind her ear, eliciting a small shiver.
A smile stretches across my face, and I repeat the motion.
She’s soft and pliant, setting free a chorus of quiet moans and sighs.
Her hand slides up my thigh, and I'm rock hard within seconds.
My fingertips glide along her soft belly as I gather the hem of her shirt.
I’ve been dying to feel her skin to skin with nothing between us.
I promised to take things slow, and I have, but I can’t resist this anymore.
I need to touch her. As my hand travels higher, I feel the raised edge of one of her scars beneath my palm.
She gasps, scrambling into a sitting position and tugging down her shirt. Her brows knit together, and tears gather along her lashes. “Wait.”
Instinct drives me forward, and I reach for her, cupping her flushed cheek in my rough palm. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head and whispers, “I can’t do this. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I’m sorry.”
As she starts to stand, I grip her wrist and hold her there, skating my thumb along her pulse point in an effort to soothe. “Let me see you, baby. Please.”
She stares blankly at the wall like she’s not even hearing me. “I–I can’t.”
Frustration overpowers reason, and I speak without thinking. “To hell with the scars. Can’t you see how much I want you? Why won’t you let me in?”
That familiar spark of defiance lights in her eyes, but there’s an angry edge to it now. An edge that’s pointed directly at me and wielded with expert precision.
“You mean the same way you let me in?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Tell me why you won’t talk about Copper, or why you can’t listen to certain songs on the radio. Tell me about Ryan.”
She might as well have slapped me. It would’ve hurt less.
Confronted with my own shortcomings, I shut down. It’s how I cope. “That’s different.”
“Is it? The way I see it, we both have secrets we aren’t willing to share.” She blows out a harsh breath. “This won’t work, Jax. We’re both too damaged.”
“No. That’s not true.” I reach for her again, but she pulls away before I can make contact, leaving my hand and whatever tenuous hope I had left hovering in the air between us. “Callie. Baby. Please.”
With her back turned, she says, “Just… give me some space.”
I watch her disappear into her bedroom, taking whatever’s left of my heart right along with her. My gaze trails to the bandana still discarded on the office floor, and memories of the night before come flooding back, mocking me.
How did I fuck this up so badly? I had her in my grasp; all I had to do was keep her, and I couldn’t even manage to do that.