Jax
“Talk to me,” Allie says, breaking the silence.
I’m sprawled across the hotel bed with one arm flung over my eyes to block out the moonlight spilling through the windows. I didn’t even drink that much, but the migraine is already settling deep in my skull, pulsing perfectly with every beat of my heart.
I drop my arm and shrug. “I’ll just never understand how someone can have everything and still manage to find every ounce of negative in it,” I mutter, more baffled than anything.
She glances over her shoulder and gives me a soft smile, her fingers still drifting lazily across my stomach. “Sometimes people have to lose the chance to have something before they can see how beautiful it is.”
My eyes snap to hers, and before I realize it, I’m sitting up—comforting her instead. My hand traces gently along the small of her back, like we’re quietly passing the responsibility of keeping each other steady.
In seconds, I watch the light in her eyes flicker and fade. And that tells me she knows exactly what I’m talking about. Which means Nora is probably pulling the same bullshit, only making this about ten times worse.
I press a soft kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry, Al.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. We both know there’s nothing that can really be done about any of it. This is just the hand we were dealt. We’re doing what we can with what we’ve got, and we still know our lives are beautiful.
Unlike some people.
Although, I can admit our lives would be at least a little easier if Trevor would just back the hell up.
We sit in the quiet for a few minutes. Then she finally turns toward me, and I reach out to sweep the hair that’s fallen across her face.
“Do you think we should… wait?” she asks, not quite meeting my eyes.
I frown. “Wait for what?”
An anchor drops in my chest the second the words leave my mouth.
I know exactly what she’s asking. I just need her to say it out loud.
It kills me to see how much this is hurting her.
Me? I can handle all of it. I’m fine if it’s the four of us for the rest of our lives.
But her? She’s the one I’m worried about.
Because I know that us not even trying could be the thing that finally sends her over the edge with everything else she’s dealing with.
And honestly, that scares the fucking shit out of me.
She shrugs. “Trying.”
Her eyes find mine, and it feels like all the air’s been knocked out of my lungs.
Because behind them? There’s an entire storm ripping through them.
One filled with guilt, remorse, but maybe even a little acceptance.
Acceptance that maybe this was never the great idea we desperately wanted it to be.
I sit there quietly, not pushing her to explain. Instead, I focus on the side of her face, watching every tiny shift in expression, ready to swoop in if she breaks.
She lets out a long breath. “I just think… we weren’t really thinking,” she says with a soft laugh. “I mean, you go on tour in what? Three months? I know you, Jax. You wouldn’t be able to walk away. The label would make you, but you’d hate yourself for it.”
I nod, frowning. Because she’s right. I would absolutely hate myself. Every second of every day I had to be away.
“And with everything going on with the girls, and Trevor...” She trails off, then shakes her head slowly. “I know there’s nothing to really worry about, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”
And to my surprise, her voice doesn’t crack like I thought it would. If anything, she looks like she’s finally able to take a full breath for the first time in months—like something inside her is breaking and healing all at once.
I reach for her and pull her into me, threading my fingers through her soft curls, and just hold her there. We sit like that in silence, only listening to each other breathing for at least a few minutes.
But then something shifts.
Her hand isn’t just gliding over my stomach anymore—it’s slowly moving up my chest, and I can feel goosebumps ripple along my arms. Her fingers don’t stop until they find my tie, and gently curl around it. She peels herself away from me, and the second she meets my eyes, my mouth goes dry.
“You know,” she says, her voice warm, almost teasing, “there’s no harm in”—she tugs on the tie, loosening it with one smooth pull—“practicing for when we are ready.”
I let out a low chuckle. “Maybe you’re right.”
In one quick move, I flip her, landing her with a soft thud against the mattress.
A small gasp slips past her lips the second she hits the silk sheets, her hair fanning across her face. She looks like a fucking goddess—lips parted, eyes wide with need, breath already caught in her throat.
I’m up in an instant, snapping off my belt with one quick snap without taking my eyes off of her. My hands slide up her thighs, pulling her down toward me as she lets out a sharp squeal.
“Jax!”
My eyes roam over her, and just like every bloody time we’re together, I can’t help but take in every inch. Every curve, every detail of what makes her her. Of what makes her mine.
But with everything going on? It’s been almost three months since I’ve been inside her.
And I can’t wait another second.
My hands slither up her dress, feeling her buttery soft skin glide beneath my palms. My fingers hook under the sides of her panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion until they’re on the floor.
She’s lying on the bed, the slit in her dress spilling over the side, completely exposed to me.
I can already see her glisten, every inch of her perfect and ready for me to bury myself into.
But not yet.
I hover over her, one hand trailing up her thighs again as goosebumps prickle under my touch, before I slide one finger inside her.
And God it’s so much better than I remember.
Warm. Velvety. Tight.
It’s like she’s reminding me she was made just for me as she clenches around my finger. My mouth lands on the nape of her neck, and I lose myself in the way her throat vibrates against my lips.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmur against her pulse, trailing soft kisses along her sensitive skin.
She lets out a breathy moan, her head already lolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed. But that’s not enough.
“Use your words, love,” I murmur, curling my fingers inside her as she writhes beneath me. “What do you want?”
She reacts just the way I want, hips driving against my hand like she already can’t get enough.
“I want you to taste me,” she blurts. Her cheeks are crimson now, but I can’t tell if it’s the bashfulness I know she still has or the adrenaline pulsing through her veins.
“Good girl,” I say with a smirk.
I pull my hand away, feeling her body deflate at the loss of contact. My eyes lock on hers, making sure she watches as I lower myself until I’m nestled perfectly between her thighs. One look, and my mouth waters instantly, ready to taste every inch of her.
It’s like gravity pulls me in, because before I can even think, my tongue is already lapping along her as if she’s the last meal I’ll ever have.
And if she were? I would absolutely die a happy man.
“You taste so fucking good, Al,” I groan, letting my breath fan across her arousal.
She whimpers quietly, tugging on the roots of my hair as my tongue circles over her swollen clit. I add a finger deep inside, her grip tightening in response.
“Oh, Jax,” she breathes out, the sound like fucking music to my ears.
“That’s right, love.”
Her hips start to buck, practically riding my face as I fling my arm around, and quickly slide off my pants. My other hand wraps around my dick, already painfully hard from how long it’s been. If she makes that sound one more time, I’m not going to last.
My tongue laps over her clit once more—and she stiffens under me.
I stop immediately, looking up at her with drawn brows.
She smirks. “If you keep doing that I’m going to come, Jax.”
“That’s the goal, love.”
She shakes her head, and I quirk a brow, not exactly sure what the problem is. But then… the corners of her mouth slowly curl again.
“I want to come with you inside me.”
Okay, that nearly tips me over, never mind the bloody moan.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
I quickly stand and carefully grab just below her knees and pull her to the edge of the bed. My eyes rake over her one more time, from her gorgeous, lustful blue eyes, to where her nipples are peeking over the rim of her dress, to her already slicked thighs.
She raises an eyebrow, clearly losing her patience with me before letting her legs fall apart. And almost as if there’s a magnetic force, I’m already falling on top of her, and sinking as deep in as she’ll take me.
Three months.
Three months without her. Without feeling her clench around me.
My thrusts are sloppy, messy even, and yet every inch of her body responds, making it clear she’s still loving every second.
I grip the headboard, driving as deep as I can while her head falls back.
“Oh my god,” she cries out, her pussy clenching around me as her orgasm shatters through her.
Her body trembles beneath me, and her cries steal the last of the little control I had left. Tension grabs my balls in a fist while I bury my face in her neck, filling her with every last drop.
I collapse beside her, and pull her into me. We’re both sticky as hell, shuddering like we just ran a mile. Her breath slows against my neck, and for the first time in a long time, everything finally feels quiet.