Chapter 24
Ethan
Reece points at Jax. “Don’t come into the room. Don’t listen at the door. In fact, leave the building.”
Jackson raises his hands in surrender. “Chill, Viking. We’re going up to the roof.”
Reece’s breakdown may seem out of character, but it’s been brewing for a while. He still has things to work through, but in the long run, this will benefit him. I’m glad he’s expressing his needs—at least to Jackson and me.
Jax is the loudest, most outspoken. When he’s quiet, that’s when I worry.
Aurora is flexible; she wants to meet our needs, but she’s learned to put her foot down since Jackson’s relapse.
I take what I want, say what I need, and make most of our decisions.
Reece holds shit in, letting his problems fester.
He hasn’t adjusted to Jax as easily as I have, likely because he believes Jax is terrible for Aurora—which isn’t true. Without Jackson, Aurora would be fractured, not whole. Neither Reece nor I could ever fill the void he’d leave behind.
Jax has his ring on our girl’s finger, and I’m having a baby with her. Reece is struggling to find his place, his sense of security. On top of that, he’s dealing with his family and career. I can empathize, but I wish he wouldn’t take it out on her. I wish he’d come to me instead.
Aurora said he tried to end the conversation, but she persisted, and he blew up. She defended her choices, and he spiraled. She was thinking about all of us; he was only thinking about the two of them.
He doesn’t trust Jax, especially after finding out they aren’t legally married. He feels lied to, played. Again, I understand, but I won’t tolerate him upsetting her.
“Hey,” I call out to him. “Before you go, if you have a problem, bring it to me. We,” I gesture to the three of us, “will work it out. Decide what you need and let me know. She’s twenty-two, pregnant, had to give up her career, and is balancing three difficult men.
Spoil her or leave her be.” My words come out sharp.
I didn’t rearrange my entire life for her and Jackson to be happy just for Reece to fuck it up.
He briefly stares at me, then gives a curt nod and heads to the bedroom.
Jax laces his fingers through mine and tugs me toward the back stairs behind the studio. “I’m glad he listens to you; he can’t stand me.”
“I focus on priorities. You instigate him.” I take the lead and shoulder the stairwell door.
“Aurora’s my priority.”
“Yeah, but my focus is on her, you, and him, too.” I swing open the roof access, and the frigid winter air slices through my clothes. “I’m secure in what we have. I don’t need to compete with Reece—or you.”
Jackson hugs himself. “Fuck me, it’s cold.”
“Get under the heaters. That’s why I fired them up earlier.” I head to the covered deck, where the outdoor heaters cast an orange glow.
“So bossy,” he says under his breath.
I pull him onto a bed-sized lounger and tuck a blanket around us both. “Better?”
He nestles into my chest, his legs entwined with mine. “Perfect.”
The city skyline glitters in the distance. From up here, the chaos blowing up our phones feels small, insignificant.
I sink my fingers into his hair. “You talked to anyone yet?”
He slides his hand under my Henley, and my dick immediately perks up.
“I’ve been texting with Grant and Kill—and my agent. I turned everything else off. You?”
“I shut my phone off after you came home. I’ll turn it on in the morning.”
Jax lifts his head to look at me, uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you regret today?”
“Never. I shouldn’t have kissed you, though. I worry about what might happen to you on the ice.” And in the locker room.
He shrugs. “I’ll handle it.”
I’ve seen how he handles it when a player talks shit about someone he loves. “I need to get Grant and Kill on this team, don’t I? Give you some backup.”
March is the trade deadline. We have a solid goalie, but Killian is one of the best in the league, and Jax and Grant have been linemates for over five years. That kind of chemistry is hard to replace.
“Doc too,” he adds.
“You need Doc?” Fuck, I hadn’t thought about that.
“I’d like him. I’m comfortable with him. He knows my situation.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll see what I can do.” I brush back a strand of hair that’s fallen across his face. “Your hair is getting darker.”
He raises his chin, full of attitude. The heater casts an amber glow over his features and catches in his green eyes. “I’m not meant to be away from the California sun.”
A smirk plays on my lips. “Is that so?” In one fluid motion, I grip the back of his neck, flip him beneath me, and pin him under my weight. “You’re meant to be wherever I am, brat.”
I find the sensitive spot below his ear and sink my teeth into his skin. A rough “fuck” escapes his throat. He fists my hair, snakes his legs around my thighs, and locks me tight against him.
I suck the mark I’ve left to soothe the sting. “You were good today. Thank you.”
His voice drops to a husky whisper. “I was very bad today. You have no idea.”
“Oh, you were?”
“I was. I teased Reece relentlessly. I deserve to be punished.” Jax can’t even hide his wicked smile or the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Do you now?” I trace my thumb along his bottom lip. “What kind of punishment?”
“The kind that has us both moaning each other’s names.” He nips at my thumb.
I move my hand to his throat, applying just enough pressure to feel his pulse beneath my fingertips. “What if I decide you don’t deserve to come tonight?”
“Then I’ll beg until you change your mind.” He rolls his hips and grinds his erection into mine.
“Fuck, that feels good.” I capture his mouth in a bruising kiss. The way he surrenders to me—this wild, chaotic force of nature, pliant in my hands—drives me insane.
I break the kiss and lick my lips. “You taste like vanilla frosting.”
“Snuck a cupcake.” He peers up at me through his lashes. “See? I’m out of control.”
A chuckle escapes me. “I’m not convinced.”
“I told the cashier at the boutique Reece and I were together. I touched him.” His gaze locks with mine. “Twice.”
I cock a brow. “Provoking my jealousy again, baby boy?”
His mouth curves into that crooked smile I can’t resist. “Is it working?”
I lean back onto my knees. “Undo my belt.”
He rises to sit, making quick work of my buckle, his teeth pressed into his bottom lip as he fights a grin. There’s absolutely nothing better than being with someone who wants you as badly as you want them.
“You know,” I thread my fingers through his hair, “if you keep messing with Reece, he’s going to snap.”
“Maybe I want him to snap.” He unclasps my belt and pops the button on my jeans. “The Viking needs to release some of that rage.”
I seize his wrist before he can lower my zipper. “Not on you.”
Defiance flares in his eyes. “Better me than Aurora.”
Something twists in my chest. Reece knows he can’t touch Jackson—Aurora would never forgive him, and neither would I. But Jax would put himself in harm’s way for her, for any of us. It’s both admirable and infuriating. “What are you trying to accomplish?”
“He bottles everything up; he’s going to explode, and when he does, Aurora will catch the fallout—like today.” He breaks free from my grip and places his hands on my waist. “He already hates me. I’d rather take the hit.”
“No. That’s not how this works.” I shake my head. “We don’t sacrifice one person to save another.”
He narrows his eyes. “You sacrificed your career for me. Now shut up and let me have your cock,” he demands with all seriousness.
“Still provoking me, I see.” I grab him by the jaw. “Take off my belt.” I shove him away, more playful than harsh.
A triumphant smirk spreads across his face. He knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing me to the edge—and fuck, if I don’t love giving him what he wants.
He tugs my belt free, the leather sliding through the loops with a satisfying hiss.
I jerk my chin toward the headboard. “Hands above your head.”
He yanks off his hoodie, tosses it to the floor, kicks off his sneakers, then drops to his back and crosses his wrists above his tousled hair.
“Good boy. What are the rules?” I thread the belt through the metal frame, bind his wrists, and cinch it tight.
He tests the restraints. “Don’t touch. Don’t talk.”
I kneel between his legs. “Don’t come until I say. And if you don’t like something, tell me to stop.”
He shudders, his words coming out breathless. “I love everything you do.”
“Are you cold?”
“No. I’m already sweating.”
“Okay, close your eyes. Keep them shut.”
He obeys. I curl my fingers into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, and he lifts his hips eagerly. I slide his sweats down just enough to reveal his boxers. The outline of his erection is clearly visible through the thin cotton, a wet spot darkening the fabric.
“Look at you.” I trace a finger along his length. “Already leaking for me.”
His lips part, breath quickening, but his eyes remain closed. The restraints stretch his arms above his head, leaving him bound and waiting, his shirt raised, exposing his abs.
I drink him in while he’s unaware of my gaze—the scar in his brow, the sharp line of his jaw, the hollow at the base of his throat where his pulse hammers, the defined muscles of his torso, the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.
All of him, perfect.
I kiss his stomach and drag my tongue along the V of his hip. Through his boxers, I graze the outline of his cock with my teeth. His head tips back, and a barely audible fuck slips past his lips.
“Let’s see how much control you have, baby boy.” I lower his boxers, and his erection springs free, a pearl of precum glistening at the flushed tip.
I fist his shaft and give him one, slow stroke from base to crown. His hips flex, chasing my touch.
“Ah, ah,” I warn. “Stay still.”
I start with lazy, teasing strokes while massaging his balls. His face contorts with pleasure, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. I love him like this—completely at my mercy, fighting to obey my commands.