10. Jax
10
JAX
B ut before I could do that, we had a little nitty-gritty to get to, and that wasn’t half as much fun as working down my kinks list. I sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Playtime's on hold. Talk to me. Tell me the things you keep secret and let the poison out.” The words were too light for the situation, but my brain was filled with need for the dripping pussy that curved around my cock like she wanted to swallow me whole.
I had nothing better to offer her right then.
Waverly’s head canted to one side. “It’s a good analogy.”
“It’s shit. I can’t think around you.”
She brought one leg up, and rested her chin on it, exposing a glimpse of purple panties. “Maybe I should move.”
That groan I’d been holding in slipped out. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Waverly laughed, a pure, delighted sound I could have recorded and played back a thousand times. “All right.” She settled back over me, running her hands across my chest, tracing over old scars and new muscle. “You work out, huh?”
“Gotta keep up with the hockey team I live with to survive.” I shrugged off the compliment. Working out with Crush was more than that, but I didn’t know how to put that part into words.
“Why do you live with a sports team?” She frowned as if trying to work me out.
I watched her, unable to tell if she was genuinely curious or stalling on telling her side of the tale we were here to dissect. But I could give a little to get a little. “I did promise you a story, didn’t I?” I mused, leaning back and drawing her a little closer. Those succulent thighs shifted and I made a mental note of all the places I’d bite soon. I closed my eyes, not needing to see her face while I got my pity party out of the way. “First year I got paired with a guy called Napoleon Lancaster for a lab and found out my father had a hand in it. He wanted the golden child and I am…” I gave a self deprecating laugh, looking down at myself and shook my head. “I’m nothing like–”
“You’re everything you should be,” she said fiercely, surprising me.
I stared into her eyes, and snorted. “Waverly, I’m a grade A fuck up by design. Everything he wanted me to be I pushed back with every fiber of my soul, if I believed in souls.”
She frowned. “You don’t?”
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I spent so many years hating what I was told to do and what I wasn’t supposed to be, that I never got a chance to find out who actually was underneath until I came to Rippton. Crush helped. Napoleon. It’s his hockey—nah, doesn’t matter,” I added to her blank look. “I was good with the diagrams, he was better with reports. Pulled a few guys off me one afternoon after class when they decided to see if the graphite I used stuck to my skin by puncturing it.” I tapped my chest and my ribs that itched with the memory. “Assholes,” I added when she sucked in a quick breath.
“The hospital trip,” she whispered.
“You heard that before, huh?” I gave her a smile that probably looked nothing like one.
“And you fought back?”Her hands closed on my chest when I nodded. She leaned forward, curving her body in to press her cheek to my shoulder.
“Eventually, in my own way. He saw me get bullied. I didn’t realize he was a hot pick for an early draft for the NHL. Crush got picked for captainship early in his first year. Unheard of shit. Seriously motivational, upbeat bastard who sets a benchmark higher than Chuck Norris and never stops moving the goalposts. Old school. He challenged me to be better while giving me time to figure my shit out. That still hasn’t happened, figuring out who I am, but he helped, launched a freaking PR campaign to create Jax .”
“Sounds like a smart guy,” Waverly murmured into my shoulder, nestling deeper.
I folded one arm around her back and combed my fingers through her hair, noting when she moaned softly at the contact and didn’t pull away. “He’s my best friend. Crush made his first job as captain to challenge me to find my own hole in the world, not trying to fit into anybody else’s. Not even find a hole but just to stand above it all. I wasn’t his responsibility but for whatever reason he decided I needed to be under his wing. He offered me a room in the house he shared with his team as soon as he pulled his captainship and got up an hour early to train with me, or stayed sober and went at it at stupid o’clock when my anxiety provided sleepless hours. It didn’t take me long to appreciate how much effort a player—the real sort, not the pretend fanatics—puts in each day.” I stopped there, but in my head, the story played out anyway.
Crush trained harder than the rest of his team combined, not because he needed to prove anything to himself or the rest of the world. His desire ran strong because he genuinely enjoyed pushing himself, and being the benchmark he asked the rest of his team to rise above.
He’d taken that ethos and instilled it in me, one shared mile at a time as we sweated it out together, shoulder to shoulder. Hell, he'd even let me draw him a few times.
“You’re really lucky.” She ran her fingers over my side lightly.
I frowned until I realized what she was doing. “Oh, they weren’t that kind. The broken ribs hurt but…” I kept my motions slow, head tilted back and relaxed looking but gritted my teeth against the memory of physical torture as I pulled my shirt up.
“Holy fuck.” Waverly gasped, running her fingers over the tight skin. I flinched, unable to help pulling away. “Oh, hell. Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry!”
“Nah, it tickles.” I gave her a bitter grin, unable to come up with anything better. “That doesn’t hurt anymore. Not physically, at least.”
“It’s so cruel.”
“Yeah.” Every time I picked up a pencil I remembered. But I refused to let that memory own me. “I’m stubborn. Even replaced that set with the same damn brand. What they did doesn’t define me, Waverly. It’s a shit memory, but I take it and move forward every damn day. Sure, I have fail days–” My breath lodged in my throat as I shifted beneath her soft form, shucking my leather Jacket off, exposing the neat rows of white scar tissue that decorated my other arm. “But they don’t define me either.”
Waverly was still for a long time.
I opened my eyes and found her a few inches from my face, staring at me with unshed tears that glazed her baby blues in an endless ocean. My heart kicked it up a notch, dissolving the soul-deep stare I couldn’t ignore that the unearthed memories created.
“I had no idea,” she whispered. Leaning onto my shoulders, she pressed her mouth to mine, tentative and exploring.
I gripped her tight, then relaxed my hands, trying to release the pressure building inside me and failing. Another fail, but the good sort. Being on edge with wanting for a girl I was fast falling for didn’t count as a negative. Damnit, she was meant to talk to me and all I’d done was spill every secret about myself instead.
She breathed a little faster as she drew back, her pupils dilated.
Good to know this is a different sort of torture for us both.
“That’s the point. There’s always some whispers, but those guys are long gone from campus, and Crush threw out a stack of rumors about alcohol poisoning and a dark, tortured artist. Who knew that led to instant, untouchable sex appeal?” I shook my head, linking my hands around her waist. “Fuck, I adore your curves.”
A pretty pink stain spread over her cheeks, highlighting her blue eyes.
“I’ve never had anyone say that before.” She looked at me shyly, retreating already.
“Nu-uh.” I squeezed her waist, loving the way my hands sank into her and digging my fingers deeper just to gauge her reaction. “One day we’ll get these damn clothes out of the way, if you want to go there. I want to lick every damn inch of you. Lick your tears, give you a reason to scream and break and cry.” I held her frown for a long moment. “I’m fucked up, Waverly. I’ll give you pleasure plenty of nights, but I’ll toy with you, take you to an edge that might scare you, and it’ll give me pleasure. But I’ll be there at the other end to catch you, hold and you love you until you stop shaking.” I kissed her gently. “Then I’ll do it again. Not right now,” I grinned, glad to be back to the comfortable ground of teasing her, just in a way she seemed to like, this time.
“Pity,” she murmured, hiding behind her hair.
A low sound built in my chest. “Don’t you do that. Not with me.” I cupped her chin, drawing her back to me. “Don’t hide from me, Waverly,” I whispered.
She whimpered and leaned forward to kiss me a little harder than I expected. I flexed my fingers on her hips, wishing I knew if she wanted only sweet kisses and touches, or if she’d let go of everything and let her passion rule her. Fuck, I both loved discovering who she was and wished I knew her better all at once.
Returning her kiss with something a little deeper, I crushed her against me for an instant, just to see how she’d react. My hand curled around her thigh and I squeezed hard enough for her flesh to dimple, hard enough to leave an instant handprint but one that would fade after a few minutes. Waverly came up moaning softly and gasping for air, but not once did she draw away from me.
Hell, this girl. I swore then she’d break me.
I wanted to take her clothes off one item at a time, lay her out on the ground and devour her with my mouth and tongue, taste every inch of her. But it would have to wait.
“Your turn, honey,” I murmured, knowing I was being a cruel bastard to break the moment we both needed.
Her gaze shot through with a sudden bolt of awareness. “I– I can't,” she whispered.
“It’s just me. No one else. Just me,” I repeated, aching for her.
She nodded, hair dancing around her full cheeks. “That's the problem.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Of course you don’t.” She rolled her eyes and punched my shoulder.
“Ow.”
“Really?”
“Nah.” I caught her wrists and pulled her back to me while she play-struggled in my grasp, laughing. Every wiggle she made over my legs sent a zing of want straight to my cock. “Do I have to pin you down and tickle you to get it out of you?”
Waverly licked her lips, her breaths shortening. “Maybe next time?”
Fuck. Me.
I swallowed back my need, too on edge for anything else. “Right. Tell me or fuck me, because I’m drowning in you either way.” I caught her mouth with mine in a harsh kiss designed to communicate every inch of my desire.
She blinked as I drew back, a new found awareness settling into the edges of her gaze. Her fingers brushed over her swollen lips as she watched me. “You won’t want to after this.”
I stared at her, a heavy, bitter stone sinking deep in my heart.
What the fuck had the assholes done to her?