62. Kai
Kai
So much for debauchery happening after dinner.
I’ve just come dangerously close to submitting to my base instincts, throwing caution to the wind and fucking Kendall hard and fast against the bathroom door of La Vela.
I don’t have much of an excuse—I’m not even drunk.
Although I might as well be coasting on a high after feeling Kendall come apart in my arms and listening to her needy cries of pleasure.
Still, I have no explanation for my behavior, for needing to defile her in between courses, where the rest of the team could probably hear us.
Other than the fact that I can’t take one more second of her doubting herself.
She leaves first. I take a few moments to collect myself so I don’t come in my hand like a horny fucking teenager.
I don’t want this to be reciprocal, not tonight.
I want this to be entirely about her—what she needs but can’t ask for.
When we make our way back to the table, it’s apparent the air in the room has shifted.
Like the temperature has suddenly dropped a few degrees cooler.
Looking to the corner near the small bar, I can see why.
Emma is there with a man who towers over her and definitely isn’t Jax.
But Jax’ eyes are glued to her from across the room, cataloging her every move.
The man Emma is talking to is agitated and drunk.
He yells something in her face, getting entirely too close, and she takes a step back from him.
But she doesn’t get very far; he grabs her elbow aggressively and drags her back towards him.
“Who is that?” I say to Kendall as both our eyes follow Emma and the spectacle that’s unfolding.
“That’s her ex-husband, Trent. He’s an asshole and he’s been abusive to her. I have no idea why he’s even here,” Kendall explains and she sounds slightly worried. We’re about to sit back down at the table when Jax quickly rises and makes his way over to them in three quick strides.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” I hear him say low. His voice is lethal, definitive. It leaves no room for argument.
“Yeah, and who the fuck are you? Are you fucking her?” Trent slurs loudly, unsteady on his feet. Jax moves closer to Trent, encroaching on his space and instinctively positioning himself in front of Emma. There’s absolutely no way this can end well.
“I’m the guy who is going to put you in the fucking ground if you put your hands on her again without her permission,” Jax replies.
Fuck. Somewhere in between appetizers and watching Kendall have one of the hottest orgasms of her life, things have deteriorated.
This disagreement, lovers quarrel, whatever the fuck it is is about to spiral into an altercation.
I can feel it. Jax has that searing, hungry, unforgiving look in his eyes.
The one he gets before jumping into a fight on the ice.
He’s very close to losing his grip. Trent laughs in Jax’ face and tries to sidestep him to return to Emma, which is certainly not his smartest move.
Jax’ defensive instincts are second to none.
I watch his self-restraint vanish like smoke and I know Trent’s belligerent ass is fucked.
Before I can blink, Jax drags her pathetic ex out the back door by the scruff of his shirt.
I follow close behind him with Jonah on my heels.
Against all odds and gravity, Trent wriggles out of Jax's hold, stands up, and puffs his chest out.
“WHAT THE FUCK MAN,” Trent spits. “I’m just trying to have a little fun with my girl. I’m sure you know how much fun she can be.” Jax right fist crunches into Trent’s face a millisecond later.
“FUCKK!” Trent howls in pain as he brings his hand to his cheek.
He strides towards Jax with fury in his eyes, but he doesn’t get very far.
Jax pummels him at the waist and tackles him to the ground with ease.
Jonah and I let him get one more punch in before we drag him off of Trent.
He needs that hand as a defender and we also need him not to get arrested tonight.
Jax is writhing, trying to break free of our hold, anger seeping from every pore. I’d have to be restrained too if someone ran their mouth about Kendall like that.
“If you ever come near her again, you’ll regret it,” Jax threatens.
“Yeah okay man. Whatever you say,” Trent snaps but he sounds defeated and he looks a little worse for wear.
I doubt he’ll try reaching Emma again tonight.
Bright red blood drips down his chin, from a gash above his lip and a mottled purple bruise is already forming around his left eye.
He pushes up from the ground and hobbles down the street away from us.