Chapter 9 #2
Knox stretches one arm along the back of the couch behind me. Not touching, just there. Jax leans forward, elbows on his knees, then glances over at me.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Just… quiet.”
“Quiet’s nice,” Knox says.
A small silence settles. It’s not awkward, exactly, but it’s full of something I don’t have a name for yet.
Jax’s knee bumps mine. He doesn’t pull it back. “Dinner was really good, Ainsley. I meant that.”
“Thank you.”
His hand rests on his own thigh, close enough that his pinky almost brushes mine. When I don’t move away, he lets his fingers drift over until the side of his hand rests against mine. Warm. Steady.
“You always cook like that?” he asks. “Or was tonight special?”
I huff a soft laugh. “Tonight was survival. I had three things in the fridge and a jar of sauce. Not exactly five-star.”
“Still better than anything we’ve made this week,” Knox says. His fingers brush the top of my shoulder, light as a question. When I don’t tense, he lets his hand settle there, thumb stroking once along the curve of my arm.
Jax turns a little more toward me. His knee presses more firmly against mine. “He’s not lying. Last night we had cereal for dinner. The night before that was gas-station burritos.”
I smile, small but real. “You’re both grown men.”
“Debatable,” Knox mutters.
Jax’s thumb starts moving slowly back and forth across my knuckles. The touch is so gentle it almost doesn’t register at first. Then it does, and my chest goes tight in a way that isn’t fear.
“You don’t have to keep everything from falling apart with us,” Knox says quietly. “You know that, right?”
I look down at where Jax’s hand covers mine. “I’m still learning how to believe that.”
“That’s okay,” Jax says. “We’re not in a rush.”
Knox’s hand slides a little lower, resting more fully on my upper arm. His thumb keeps up that slow, steady stroke. Jax shifts closer until his thigh is pressed all the way against mine from knee to hip. The space between the three of us has disappeared without any of us announcing it.
I can feel both of them breathing. Feel the heat of their bodies on either side of me. My heart is beating too hard, but it still doesn’t feel like fear.
Jax’s voice drops. “You can tell us to back off anytime.”
“I know,” I whisper.
Knox’s fingers brush the side of my neck, just under my ear. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
I turn my head and look at him. His eyes are dark and steady, waiting. There’s no pressure in them. Just patience. And something warmer underneath.
I lean in and kiss him.
It’s soft at first, just the press of my mouth to his. Then his hand slides from my shoulder into my hair, and he kisses me back like he’s been holding himself still for a long time. Slow. Thorough. When I finally pull back, his forehead rests against mine for a second.
I turn my head.
Jax is already watching me. I lean the other way and kiss him too. His hand tightens around mine, and he makes a low sound in his throat as he kisses me deeper, slower, like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth. When we break apart, he stays close, nose brushing mine.
Neither of them says anything right away.
Knox’s thumb strokes once along the side of my neck. Jax’s fingers are still laced with mine.
I sit between them, breathing a little uneven, and for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like I have to decide anything.
I just let myself stay there.
Knox’s hand stays in my hair, fingers combing slowly through the strands. Jax’s thumb keeps tracing the back of my hand. The quiet feels full.
I rest my head against Knox’s shoulder. He shifts to make it easier, his arm settling more securely around me. Jax leans in until his temple brushes mine.
“You okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. “Yeah. I am.”
Knox turns and finds my mouth again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, careful. When he pulls back, he brushes another soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my cheek.
Jax doesn’t wait. He kisses me next, lingering, once, twice, a third time like he can’t quite stop. “God, Ainsley,” he whispers against my lips.
Knox’s hand slides from my hair down to my shoulder, then lower.
His palm settles on my thigh, warm and heavy.
He doesn’t rush. He just starts moving, slow, steady strokes up and down the outside of my leg, from just above my knee almost to the hem of my shorts and back again.
Each pass makes my skin tighten. Heat gathers low in my stomach, then lower.
I’m already so hot, so wet I can feel it, my pussy throbbing with every slow drag of his hand.
Jax’s fingers leave mine and settle on my stomach instead.
He spreads his palm flat over my shirt, feeling the rise and fall of my breathing.
Butterflies erupt under his touch, sharp and sudden.
He strokes once, twice, then higher. His hand cups my breast through the thin fabric, and he squeezes, firm, testing, claiming.
A soft moan slips out of me before I can stop it.
It has never felt like this before.
Knox’s hand keeps moving on my thigh, higher now, the edge of his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of my inner leg.
Jax squeezes my breast again, slower this time, thumb dragging across my nipple through the shirt until it tightens under his touch.
I arch into both of them without meaning to, another quiet sound catching in my throat.
Knox leans in and kisses the side of my neck, open-mouthed and warm. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
Jax’s mouth finds mine again while his hand stays on my breast, kneading gently.
Knox’s palm slides higher on my thigh, the heat of him seeping straight through the thin material of my shorts.
I’m throbbing so hard it almost aches. Every stroke of Knox’s hand, every squeeze of Jax’s fingers, sends another wave of heat rolling through me.
They keep kissing me, Knox along my neck and jaw, Jax deep and slow on my mouth, while their hands never stop moving. I’m caught between them, trembling, wetter than I’ve ever been, and for once I don’t try to hold any of it back.
Knox turns my face back to his and takes my mouth again, deeper this time, hungrier.
His tongue slides against mine as his hand keeps stroking up and down my thigh, higher with every pass, fingers brushing the soft skin just beneath the hem of my shorts.
I’m so wet it almost hurts, my pussy throbbing in time with every slow drag of his palm.
Jax doesn’t stay still. He kisses down the side of my neck, open-mouthed and hot, then lower.
His lips trail over the collarbone, then the upper curve of my breast. When he reaches the space between them, he presses a slow, lingering kiss right there, breathing me in.
His hand is still cupping me, squeezing gently while his mouth moves, and another moan slips out of me into Knox’s kiss.
It’s so hot I can’t think straight.
I’m caught up in it, completely. My hands won’t stay still.
I fist one in the front of Knox’s shirt and drag him closer, kissing him back just as hard.
My other hand finds Jax’s hair, fingers sliding into the soft strands, holding him against me as he keeps kissing the sensitive skin between my breasts.
When he nuzzles lower and mouths over the swell of one breast through my shirt, I arch into him with a quiet, helpless sound.
Knox’s hand slides fully under the edge of my shorts now, palm hot against bare skin, still stroking in those slow, deliberate passes that make my thighs tremble.
Jax’s fingers tighten on my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it’s tight and aching.
I can’t stop touching them. My hand slips under Knox’s shirt, spreading over the hard plane of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles jump under my fingers.
My other hand tugs gently at Jax’s hair, guiding him, needing more of his mouth.
They give it to me.
Knox kisses me like he’s starving for it.
Jax keeps working his way between my breasts and up again, lips and tongue hot against my skin, while both of their hands keep moving, stroking, squeezing, claiming.
I’m soaked, throbbing, completely lost between them, and every time I touch them back they make these low, rough sounds that only make me wetter.
Knox breaks the kiss only long enough to look at me, eyes dark and questioning.
When I don’t pull away, he reaches for the hem of my shirt and slowly draws it up.
I lift my arms without thinking. The soft fabric slides over my head and disappears somewhere behind the couch.
Cool air hits my bare skin for half a second before his hands are on me again, warm, rough-palmed, sliding up my sides like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
Jax drops to his knees between my legs.
He looks up at me once, checking, then gently pushes my knees farther apart.
I let him. He starts at my right knee, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss there, then another a little higher.
His hands settle on the outsides of my thighs, holding me open as his mouth works its way upward in a deliberate path.
Every kiss is hot and wet and unhurried.
When he reaches the soft skin of my inner thigh, I twitch and make a helpless sound.
Knox’s mouth finds mine again while Jax keeps kissing higher.
One of Knox’s hands cups my bare breast, squeezing, thumb dragging over my nipple until it’s tight and aching.
The other hand stays low, still stroking the inside of my thigh in time with Jax’s mouth.
I’m so wet it’s embarrassing, soaked through my shorts, throbbing so hard I can feel my pulse between my legs.
I can’t stop touching them.