Chapter 33
Jessa walked into Jax’s house and threw her purse on the counter with no intention of slowing down on her way to the guest room. She thought of her restraints from the night before and knew she could not suffer the same humiliation tonight.
She rounded on him. "If you try to tie me down to that bed again, I will kick your ass, so help me God. If you want me to stay here, you'd better find another way, because you know if it's up to me, I will head out that door and never look back."
He crossed his arms and widened his stance. "Yes, you've made that quite clear."
The smug look on his face and his calm, cool demeanor caused her temper to explode. She pointed at his chest. "You had no right to tell Logan to back off. I am not your property, and I can do with my body and my life whatever I want."
"Is that what you want, Jessa? Do you want to go out with Logan?"
"No! I want you to understand that I am not yours."
"You've made that quite clear tonight, too." His chest and bulging biceps were right at her eye level like a brick wall she would never be able to get through.
"But there's one thing I don't think you understand." He let his head drop forward, his eyes connecting with hers like a magnet to ferrous metal. "You have no idea what it was like," he said, his voice deep and throaty, "when I was watching you with him tonight. I wanted to throttle him."
Jessa shook her head. "Oh, please."
He uncrossed his arms, lightly taking her by the shoulders, and the air became charged with electricity.
"You were laughing, and he was looking at you like he wanted to see you naked, and I knew every thought in his head. I wanted to punch him in the jaw and carry you out of there over my shoulder.”
Jessa dropped her eyes to his chest.
He reached up and gently touched her cheek, lifting her face to his. "I didn't want him looking at you like that. I didn't want him looking at you at all."
"He wasn't doing anything wrong."
"No, he wasn't. Not like I want to do." With that, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, a gentle, seductive kiss that promised so much more if she was willing.
"We were supposed to have a truce," she said.
"I know."
"I was looking forward to it.”
He pushed his nose lightly against hers, putting her mouth in position for his kiss once again. "We can have the truce now."
He nipped at her lips with his own, teasing her, and she wanted him to kiss her for real. How could she want that? Did she have no self-respect?
"This doesn't feel like a truce," she said. "This feels like you're winning."
"Let me make love to you tonight, and I promise you we’ll both win.”
His words had her melting inside, but she was scared. The first time they had sex, she expected to find it unpleasant and had been shocked when her body responded to his with such force. She hadn't wanted to feel that way, had simply wanted him to take his pleasure and leave her be.
Now she wanted the whole package. Because if she was going to sleep with Jax again, she had to accept it would be pleasurable.
Immensely pleasurable.
The stress of the last few days was catching up to her.
Images of Ralph floated through her mind, she and Ralph together, Ralph and Jax tucked into a drawer in Jax’s office.
Could she simply let him be forgotten? Could she move on to his best friend and let go of the guilt that threatened to drown her?
I want it so badly.
She thought about what it would mean. Making love to Jax.
Letting herself touch and be touched. Deliberately making him feel good, letting him overpower her if he wished.
She took a deep breath in and held it, her eyes searching his.
Would he be patient with her? Would he let her find her own physical release as she was able, or would he force his hand, making her feel exposed and vulnerable as she had in the hotel?
You felt those things because you didn't want to enjoy being with him. Are you ready to let him touch you, let him stroke your sensitive places, and trust him with your response?
Her heart beat rapidly with anticipation.
Oh, yes.
She was ready. She'd gone too long without the joy of sex, the electric and spiritual connection to another human being, the animalistic dedication to touch and physical release. She knew this man was capable of making her body sing, and she craved him like the cracked earth craves water.
"I'm scared," she said.
"I know." He lightly ran his fingers through her hair. "But you don't have to be."
The sensation of his short nails against her scalp made her purr, and she let her eyes close, then reached out and touched his chest. He was warm and solid beneath her hands, the beating of his heart palpable through his skin, the air heavy with the scent that was uniquely his.
He was flesh and blood, stimulus and response. He was alive, and she longed to hold him inside her. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him toward her, lifting her head and kissing him full on the mouth.
He tasted like tea, and it struck her that the last time they’d had sex, he'd been drunk. Would he be the same kind of lover he had been then? Or would he be more mechanical, less sensual?
The idea gave her pause, but no sooner had she thought it than he took control of the kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth and teasing her just as she remembered.
His arms were around her waist, and his hands came up to stroke her back, the sensation quieting the questioning voice in her head.
She felt warm desire unfurling inside of her.
She wanted to enjoy every touch, every experience she was given before moving on to the next one, like savoring a box of chocolates.
She dropped her head to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him before trailing kisses from his collarbone to his ear. He moaned, the deep tenor of his voice vibrating the muscular column of his neck beneath her mouth.
He grabbed the back of her head and brought her face to his. She felt completely exposed, totally at his mercy.
"I want you in my bed," he said, taking her hand and pulling her behind him.
They passed the guest room with her bindings atop the sheets, and she looked forward to giving them a try another time.
Right now she wanted to lie between the covers that smelled of him, her bottom in the curve of the mattress where he slept night after night, wanted to see what that space was like.
At the end of the long hallway, he pushed open the door into a room full of windows, the blue glow of moonlight streaming through their panes.
In the center of the room was a wide, tall bed with thick posts of twisting wood.
She walked to a bedpost, her hand running along the carved spiral, and Jax came up behind her, pulling back her hair and kissing her neck.
She arched her back, looking for him, and he fitted himself against her bottom.
She could smell the earthy spice of cinnamon mixed with soap, cologne, and the essence of him on the air. Jax lifted her shirt and she raised her arms, allowing him to pull it over her head. Then he eased her bra straps down to her elbows, leaving a trail of sensation across her shoulders and arms.
She wanted more of him, wanted his hot skin beneath her hands and her breasts against the solid wall of his chest. She spun around.
"Oh, yes," murmured Jax, taking her breasts in his hands and teasing her nipples to attention.
She was tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and over his head with hasty fingers, desperate to feel skin on skin. She pushed the sides of his shirt back over his shoulders and down to his forearms, the fabric temporarily keeping him restrained.
She looked her fill at his impressive chest, sculpted muscle rolling over bone.
Then she moved lower, lightly caressing him and taking his nipple into her mouth before loosening the buckle at his waist. She freed him of his belt and unzipped his fly, nuzzling his hard cock with her face and lips through the fabric of his briefs.
Jax swore under his breath and hauled her up, pushing her backwards onto the bed and climbing on top of her.
She spread her legs, welcoming him between them as her breathing got heavier with need.
He felt so good pressing her down, the weight of him alone enough to make her weep with joy, and she writhed against him, desperate for more.
He removed her bra and the newly developed fullness of her breasts made them fall to the side, heavy and tender.
He spoke just inches from her ear, his voice husky and rough. "I love the changes in your body. That I did this to you.”
She loved sharing herself with him, her body and every bit of what was taking place inside her. It was as if by allowing herself to be with this man, she was letting him into her pregnancy, into her life, and there was no going back.
He took one breast in his hand and measured its fullness with his palm, lightly squeezing her before taking her tip in his mouth and tasting her with his tongue.
She bucked wildly beneath him. He opened wide and took more of her in his mouth, and she called out and pulled his head tightly against her.
"You're so sensitive," he said. His hand slipped between her legs and pressed against her swollen mound. "Are you sensitive here, too?"
She made a funny noise as she pressed back against his hand. "Yes.” The sound of her voice was breathy and desperate to her ears.
Then he was taking off her pants and pulling at her panties.
She opened her legs for him again and he settled on top of her, naked.
The feel of his erection pressed against her pushed her over the top.
She wanted him inside of her, wanted to see if it was as good as she remembered, and she pressed her head back against the pillow.
Then he was kissing her, deep, desperate kisses, and she kissed him back with the urgency that was building between her legs. His cock was poised at her entrance, and she thought she might die if he didn’t get inside of her.
“Now, Jax. I need you.”
"Open your eyes."
She forced her heavy lids apart, Jax’s intense gaze fastening itself to her stare.
He eased inside of her, his girth forcing her wide open, and she called out in pleasure from the sensation. She'd forgotten what sex was like during pregnancy, the heightened sensitivity and the puffy feel of her womanly walls around him.
Ralph had loved it.
"Do you feel how swollen I am?” she asked Jax. “How tight?"
"God, yes."
“It's because of the baby. Your baby growing deep inside of me, Jax."
He groaned loudly, thrust into her deeper, harder. “God, you feel so good. Am I hurting you?"
"No.” She dug her nails into his back. “I want more."
His deep, torturous thrusts forced her body to accommodate his size and set off an avalanche of feeling inside her. She screamed softly. He reached under her arms and held her shoulders in his hands, holding her still while he thrust himself hard and fast into her body.
Her orgasm exploded like a thousand scattering pieces, then Jax was coming, too, his cock buried to the hilt inside her, emptying his seed at the entrance to her womb once more.