4. JAX
JAX
The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
Either that, or God was just as much of a dick as his faithful servant, Preacher. I shifted in my seat again, stretching out in the generous leg room. That was a mistake.
The woman across from me practically purred. “I find it so bizarre that we’ve never crossed paths before,” she said, sipping her complimentary bubbles. Her eyes raked sharply up my legs, lingering on my crotch where the suit bunched.
I was half-tempted to slap my hands over my junk like a bashful choir boy.
Instead, I gave her a snarling grin that should’ve deterred her. “I like to keep to myself.”
“A lawyer who doesn’t like attention,” the woman mused, clicking her tongue. “How refreshing.”
Her and her Pepto-Bismol pink suit were giving me an ulcer. I placed her somewhere in her early fifties. She had razor-straight black hair and thick mascara-lined eyes. No wedding ring. A fact that she made blatantly clear as she raised her glass for a toast.
I drained mine in a single gulp. The burn was welcome; the pit in my stomach was not.
We’d been in the air less than ten minutes. I’d watched the safety presentation distractedly, my mind stuck on a different flight attendant somewhere else on the plane.
I hated her in that uniform.
The deviant in me begged to ruin it. The fact that Olivia was forbidden fruit only made it harder to resist.
Hence, the universe decided to kick me in the balls.
The seatbelt sign had barely blinked off when the pink-suit woman strutted into my pod as if she owned it. Maybe she did. The price tag attached to my first-class seat was enough to fund a whole fucking vacation. For her, it was probably chump change.
I learned that she was a district judge on some fancy-shmancy award panel at the lawyer summit. Initially, that put my guard up, as I was claiming to be headed to the same conference. But it became obvious pretty quickly that she wasn’t interested in my conversation skills.
Noticing my empty glass, she flagged down another. I’d forgotten her name, just like I kept forgetting to react whenever she called me ‘Noah’.
Fucking Preacher, I grumbled internally. That was the last time I allowed him to choose my alias.
While she was distracted waving down a flight attendant, I shuffled forward and checked my phone again. With Zola’s help, we managed to patch into the in-flight Wi-Fi and establish a secure channel. My crew checked in from their various posts on the plane.
SUNSHINE: I wanna switch seats. Someone spat in my mouth & there’s gum on my seat.
SPARROW: What flavor?
I smirked at Madoc’s response. Just two words, and my phone went haywire.
SUNSHINE: I didn’t eat it!
SUNSHINE: What is wrong with u??
SUNSHINE: Wait. NVM. I don’t even want to unpack that.
SUNSHINE: I already have nightmares.
I waited but Olivia’s chat bubble never appeared. I was confirming we still had eyes on our mark when the cougar across from me exclaimed: “Over here, girl! Another champagne.”
I rolled my eyes without looking up.
“In fact, we’ll take the bottle on ice. Fresh glasses. And bring it straight here.”
There was a beat.
And then—
“Right away, ma’am.”
My head snapped up.
Olivia gave me a sweet smile as her eyes cut between me and my unwelcome drinking buddy. My gut warmed. Even though I’d only seen her an hour ago, the reappearance of that damn uniform hit me again. My fingers tightened around my phone.
Olivia’s smile sharpened, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I shot her a dangerous grin, not bothering to hide it. Her cheeks flushed.
“And for you, sir?” she asked me pointedly.
Sir.
Fuck, I liked that, too.
It was ruined when my unwelcome guest interrupted: “He’s with me, darling. Now snap to it.” She clicked her fingers. I watched in near glee as Olivia’s face tightened.
She tried so hard to be perfect, to be unaffected. But I’d seen firsthand what happened when she finally unleashed that anger.
Cool it, I scolded my brain, which already felt too fuzzy from the bubbles and whiskey and arousal.
As Olivia stormed away, my eyes tracked her pert little ass. Then I was intercepted by a swish of nauseous pink. “Will you be staying at a hotel near the conference? Noah?”
“What?” My head snapped back. “Oh, yeah. Whatever.”
She wasn’t discouraged by my lackluster response. If anything, her smile widened, bright and full of challenge. “Which one?”
“Which what?”
“Hotel.”
I stared at her, wondering if she was a fucking plant. Or just that thirsty for a twenty-something cock in a borrowed suit. “Look—”
My phone buzzed across my side table. I snatched it up, not bothering with politeness—I was no good at it anyway. The woman rambled on, but she was easy to tune out.
NOVA: Connection is patchy. I’ll stay online as long as I can.
My fingers pressed to reply to Zola when a new chat bubble popped up.
PRINCESS: Bathroom.
I stood up and shrugged out of my jacket. “I’ll see what’s taking so long.” I tossed my jacket carelessly across my seat. The woman’s smile widened, an approving glint in her eye.
“Good service is so hard to come by,” she agreed, shamelessly ogling my chest through my stupidly tight shirt. “You make sure you give it to her good.”
My laughter came out like a bark. I fucking plan on it.
I didn’t waste any time as I slipped between the curtain separating first class and the onboard bar. The bathroom door was already unlocked. I hated that. I threw it open with more force than necessary, snapping it shut just as hard behind me.
The anger at her carelessness died on my tongue when I took her in.
We hadn’t been alone since the island. Olivia leaned against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest. The position made her tits pop, her blouse straining to contain them.
I was a simple man, driven by simple need.
I’d never hidden my attraction to her, and she’d never feared it.
For a minute, we just stared at each other. The plane engine filled the silence. The door vibrated against my back. I leaned against it, waiting her out.
As expected, she broke first: “Well?”
“Well what?”
Her jaw clicked. An angry flush spread up her neck, partially hidden by her scarf. I wanted to tug on it. Gag her with it.
She was gift-wrapped for me.
When she still didn’t elaborate, I leaned forward and taunted her: “Something on your mind, princess?”
She inhaled sharply, then wrinkled her nose. “You smell like her.”
“Like who?”
“Whom,” she corrected me, because she just couldn’t help herself. The priss. She huffed again. “That obnoxious cougar—"
“She’s a district judge, actually.”
Olivia’s eyes flashed, then narrowed. I craved her anger. I reveled in it.
I stepped towards her. She leaned back, watching me carefully. “Jealous, prom queen?”
“No,” she lied, jutting up her cute little nose. “Why would I be jealous? I have no claim on you.”
The bitterness in that statement was undeniable.
The hurt was harder to spot, but no less sharp.
Whatever she saw in my face made her scowl deepen. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I’m supposed to be cool and aloof, and you’re totally ruining it.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re you. It’s enough.”
She looked away quickly, like she didn’t trust herself. I didn’t trust her, either. She was a flighty, unreliable, pretty pain in my ass.
“Did you call me in here just to bitch at me?”
She scoffed. “No.”
“Good.”
“It is good.” She adjusted her scarf, trying to maintain some composure. “Madoc thinks the briefcase is a decoy.”
“It probably is.”
She crossed her arms again.
Don’t look at her tits. Do not—
“Stop looking at me like that.”
I grinned, unashamed, as I leaned back on the door. “This guy is carrying half a billion dollars in stolen cybertechnology. You think he’s just swinging that around in a sparkly briefcase?”
“Maybe.” She pouted softly. “It doesn’t help that I have no idea what I’m looking for.”
“You’ll know when you see it.”
“Great. Super helpful. Thank you.”
I cocked my head, not caring for the attitude. “Getting cold feet, princess?”
“No.” There was not a hint of doubt in her voice. “I need to do this.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you here?”
She blinked, startled at my bluntness. The question had been bothering me for weeks, ever since I found out about her involvement.
Preacher had kept us separated for a reason. Just like he reunited us for a reason. Knowing him, there was another angle I couldn’t see. Another agenda. And Olivia was involved in it, just like she’d been in the past.
Burn me once.
I was done playing nice. It was time to get some answers. I stalked forward, pinning her body hard against the sink. I caged her in, overwhelmed her. Her hands slapped against my chest.
“You had a chance to walk away,” I said. “We had a deal. You got what you wanted. You were supposed to forget about me. You weren’t supposed to get involved again.”
“It wasn’t that simple. Preacher—”
That was her first mistake. My hand came up, catching her jaw. Her throat bobbed, the fire flickering in her eyes but not igniting. “Fuck that godfucking prick,” I growled. “Don’t lie to me, princess. Why are you really here? Why now? Why this job?”
“I don’t know.”
My fingers tightened on her face. She winced. “I said don’t lie.”
“I’m not!” She finally snapped. “Preacher asked me to help you. I couldn’t say no, not when he’s protecting Molly.”
Mentioning her sister was her second mistake. Anger burned in my chest. Molly had shot Madoc on the island. She’d hurt him. As much as Madoc pretended to be infallible, I saw the way it changed him. He’d hidden most of his recovery, but he couldn’t hide the scar.
“I can’t lose her again, Jax,” Olivia whispered. “Molly knows too much. The people who took her…Preacher is keeping her safe. I can’t walk away now.”
I scanned her face, wishing I had Madoc’s ability to see through masks. She’d fooled me once before. My gut told me she was lying again.
There was more to the story. Preacher never did anything randomly.
“I’ll say this once,” I warned her, tapping her chin. “You risk my crew, you lie to me again, I’ll kill you.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I mean it this time.”
I did. She saw it in my eyes, the subtle tremor in my fingers. My violence was a palpable thing. It couldn’t be contained for long.
“You don’t get to do this again,” she said, her nails biting into my chest. “You don’t get to push me around. I’m not one of your Crows.”
“No. Just a fucking problem.”
She held my eye, hostile and sharp. The heat simmered between us. I hated her. She hated me. We didn’t trust each other.
My hand slid around her jaw, up her neck, until I got a solid grip on her ponytail. Her lashes fluttered. “Say it, princess.”
“S-Say what?” She stammered.
“Say you hate me. Tell me how much I hurt you. Wish me fucking dead.”
Her mouth opened, then shut. Those grey-blue eyes finally ignited. “I hate you, Jax.”
“Good.” With that, I smashed my mouth against hers. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was harsh and punishing, and I starved for it.
“More,” I snarled into her mouth.
She made a helpless, keening noise that went straight to my dick. When she pulled back, I chased her, keeping my grip on her hair tight. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Her nails raked across my chest.
“I hate the way you look in a suit,” she said, breathlessly. “I hate that you always smell like smoke.”
I rubbed myself all over her for good measure.
“I hate your eyes,” she said.
“What else?”
“Your stupid jawline.” Her fingers tugged on my tie as my eyes honed in on her silk neck scarf. Perfect.
“Jax,” she moaned. I undid the delicate knot around her throat. Her eyes widened when she understood my intentions. There was a flash of uncertainty, then curiosity, and finally, hunger.
Slowly, I dragged the silk scarf up her throat and over her mouth. Her lips parted obediently. I shoved the material between her teeth and pulled it taut, testing it.
Then I held her eye and snarled: “Bite down, princess.”
With a defiant fire in her eyes, she did.