Chapter 10
Ten
Ilean against the deck rail and take a long swallow of my Heineken.
The summer sun begins to wane, leaving subtle hints at how it might paint the sky.
Jax will be here soon for dinner, and we’ll be alone in this house I’ve come to love nestled in the hillside.
I’ve never been happier about my mom’s job as a travel writer because she’s gone for long stretches, and the place is as good as mine.
My head swims with visions of this golden girl…and the possibilities. After the green light she clearly gave me at Terry’s, I’m trying not to get my hopes up that I’ll see her fully naked tonight.
I would give anything to see her fully naked tonight.
But I’m not a douchebag. I try to be chivalrous and mindful of common decency. I’m worried about rushing her, upsetting her, or turning her off.
Pretty sure I’d die a happy man if I could learn all the ways to turn her on.
I’ll pay attention to her cues, play it by ear, practice self-control.
At least she won’t be showing up here in a bikini because that took herculean restraint not to relieve her of said apparel.
The image of Jax in that skimpy yellow suit blazes into my mind with utter clarity.
Skin for days, scraps of material barely restraining the parts I long to touch.
The color brighter than her hair and eyes, but not her smile. She’s fucking flawless.
Tipping back my beer, I enjoy a long swallow and head to the kitchen.
The chicken roasting in the oven is ready for more barbecue sauce, so I brush on another layer, start the burner for the rice, and assemble the salad.
After setting the pot to simmer, I flip through Mom’s albums and land on B.B.
King’s Take It Home. The HiFi hums awake when I switch it on.
I blow the dust particles off the vinyl, load the record on the turntable, and place the needle on its edge.
It crackles before the music plays, and I lower the volume.
I’m aiming for a romantic mood and hopefully nailing it.
I left the door wide open, but Jacqui knocks on it anyway, and a smile ghosts my lips at that for some reason.
When I round the corner, she presents quite the vision.
The last sunrays backlight her frame, making her hair appear translucent on the ends, like an ethereal angel.
She’s wearing skin-tight jeans and a fitted black halter top, and I swallow thickly at the sight. Goddamn…I could drink that in all day.
“Hey,” I greet her, circling my arm around her waist and kissing her softly. Her perfume filters to my senses—pleasant, understated, citrusy. She always smells so damn appealing.
“Hey yourself,” she murmurs.
My fingers graze her cheek as I fall into those fiery irises, absorbing their specific beauty.
“You have the most extraordinary eyes. They’re the color of honey.
” I don’t wait for her response, kissing her again and forcing myself not to fall down that heavenly rabbit hole.
My dick twitches with awareness—awake and alert.
It’s like I’m twelve looking at my first Playboy.
The hold she has over me is disturbing, but I can’t seem to heed those warnings.
She appears dazed by the kiss, and I want to put that expression on her face all night. “I love yours too,” she finally murmurs. “The gray changes with your mood.”
Happy she likes anything about me, my lips bloom into a smile. I tell her to make herself comfortable, pour her a glass of wine, and finish up in the kitchen. Everything’s ready and cooked decently, so I bring it to the table.
“Looks delicious,” she says. “You’re a man of many talents.”
I want to read so much into that, but don’t, and we dig in.
It’s hard to keep my eyes off her, cataloguing every detail of her face from those arresting irises to the way her hair parts symmetrically down the center to the little freckles that dot her nose.
My gaze lands on her mouth, rosy lips that are wide and full.
Christ. I’m probably staring at her like she’s the meal.
Picking up a drumstick, I focus on my food, just to stop fantasizing about her, but the air between us is charged, the sexual tension undeniable, raw, polarizing.
I glance at her plate. “Not hungry?”
“I’m nervous,” she admits, setting down her fork.
Leaning in, I coax those eyes to meet mine. “Why?”
Jax says nothing, but her chest heaves—more than noticeable with the rack she’s got trussed under that tight top…
the one that can’t possibly accommodate a bra with the open back—and my gaze drags up to her mouth.
I’m on my feet, lifting her flush to my body, unable to stop the urge to act like a man obsessed.
My lips claim hers, the intensity ratcheting up fast. When she whimpers, I ignite, gripping her even tighter, closer—and her arms encircle my neck, wanting it too.
My hands travel south, squeezing and exploring those curves, and my dick turns rock hard, straining between us obviously and unapologetically.
Like a match to tinder, my blood heats, rushing through me wild and fierce.
I pull back, leaving the bare minimum of space, and catalog her glazed eyes, her pupils blown so wide, there’s only a sliver of fire left. “Better?”
Her fingers thread through my hair and she pulls my face back to hers, kissing me hungrily.
I chuckle into her mouth as our hands continue roving.
Jax’s slip under my shirt, coasting across the planes of my back, as if greedy for it.
I’m stupidly greedy for her—all of her. My fingers skate along the soft skin at her midriff.
Then lower, palming her ass through her jeans.
I lift her off her feet and she clutches my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist. Our mouths stay connected as I carry her down the hall and into the bedroom, my heart battering against my ribcage.
After laying her carefully on the bed, I climb up her body until our faces nearly touch. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Jax.”
She smiles coyly, as if she doesn’t believe me. “Not sure I hold a candle to you…”
I scoff at the utter ridiculousness of that.
“Seriously, Mick, I can barely speak in your presence, I’m so under your goddamn spell. You should come with some kind of disclaimer warning.”
Whether I agree or not, my heart palpitates with each word. Hungry for more, I press my mouth against hers before trailing kisses across her jawline.
“I want to do everything with you tonight,” I whisper, my tongue tracing her earlobe. My lips venture along her slender neck, which she angles to give me better access, all while emitting throaty moans I plan to coax out of her all night. “Only whatever you’re comfortable with. Okay?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
My fingers edge the hem of her top, which exposes a few inches of tanned skin above her belly button, and her abdomen hollows, quaking from my touch.
Her reaction tugs hard at something inside me, and I gulp it down.
I skim over her breasts, her nipples erect and straining, and my mouth waters as my dick rages against my fly.
Her breath hitches, her body trembling as I push up the clinging material and expose her impressive rack, my own pulse thundering in my ears. For a moment, all I can do is stare.
She’s exquisite.
Unmitigated perfection.
And quivering under the heat of my gaze.
It’s undoing me, my own fingers shaking as I caress her bare skin and drink in the sight of her beneath me.
Glancing at her face, I find her fixated on me with longing and need, her full, raspberry lips parted.
My heart slams into my chest and I’m mesmerized for a second before I dip my head and sample her right breast, my tongue circling, sucking, and teasing.
Jax arches off the bed in offering, and my deep groan resounds around her delicate flesh.
Her tits are voluminous, easily spilling from my hands, yet soft and sensitive.
Rosy pink, silver-dollar-sized areolas lead to nipples so firm, my tongue has plenty to suck and flick.
She weaves her fingers into my hair, writhing beneath me as I eagerly explore—squeezing, lavishing, and marveling.
I let one hand snake down her torso, fondling her through her jeans. When I add some pressure, desperate to experience more and obliterate these barriers, she gasps.
I’m about to lose my shit. “Goddamn,” I murmur. “So sexy. I want to see all of you.”
She nods through nearly shut lids. Thank God.
Unbuttoning her 501s is slow torture but hiking them down and off her legs exposes black bikini underwear, and I expel a breath, my chest tight like my lungs are trapped in a vise. I’m seconds away from seeing this gorgeous girl naked.
Jax wriggles out of her halter top, pitching it on the floor, and my blood races when I peel off that tiny black underwear. Standing at the foot of the bed, I fully absorb every detail—her voluptuous proportions, soft curves, and those tan lines that outline all that is sacred.
“You are everything I imagined and more,” I say huskily.
I make quick work of stripping off my shirt and Jax maps my body the way I did hers.
The look on her face only stirs my hunger.
Reaching underneath her hips, I pull her to the edge and gently spread her legs, so ready to explore this pussy and learn every way to make Jax come.
I kneel, full of anticipation…and she noticeably stiffens.
I pause. “What’s wrong?”
She sighs, and not in a sexually satisfied way.
In an instant, I’m off my knees and hovering over her. Bracing my arms on either side of her face, I implore her to meet my gaze and elaborate. I don’t think I’ve done anything to freak her out, but maybe?
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “My former…boyfriend…didn’t like doing that. He said I…”
I’m relieved and irritated at once. “What?” I gently prompt, not letting her look away.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Tell me. Please.”