Thirty-Six

 

Sara

 

I woke up to a kiss on the lips. I stirred, opening my eyes to take in Jaxon. I smiled at him and the tiny figure he was holding in his arms. He brought Lucy down and she placed a wet kiss on my face.

“Morning, babe, time to get that sexy little bum up,” he said, settling Lucy down on the bed next to me. She stood up on the mattress and jumped up and down, reminding me just how energetic a three-year-old was.

Sitting up, I tried settling her, and then I gave up because that was like asking water not to be wet. I watched Jaxon dress instead. He was in nothing but his briefs, walking around the room in search of his clothes.

“In the laundry basket,” I directed him.

He grabbed the basket on the dresser filled with clothes and dug around for his pair of jeans.

“Sorry for not folding it away,” I said. “I got caught up with things to do yesterday. Lucy had ballet and then your mom stopped by.”

Jaxon paused to give me an annoyed look. “Why are you apologizing, Sara? It’s not a big deal.”

I shrugged. “I’m a house mommy. This shit’s my responsibility.”

“Your responsibility is making sure our offspring” – he pointedly looked at Lucy rolling around the bed like a caveman – “is nice and fed, and judging by all her rolls, I’d say you’re doing your job well.”

I laughed. “When you say it like that…”

He found his jeans and threw them on, pulling them up and around his sexy hips. He was still in excellent shape, not that I expected him to gain fifty pounds or anything, but I thought being president of the Scorpions meant he’d be too occupied to hit the gym. That sexy V proved me wrong, of course. He was still working out, still getting bigger with every year that passed by. This man was only getting better looking with age.

I sat there, mesmerized and warm everywhere, my eyes trailing his abdomen and bulging biceps. It wasn’t wrong to stare at what was mine, and dear god, I never let myself forget it.

“How did I get you?” I blurted out.

He threw an amused look my way. “Back to this already?”

“What do you mean already?”

Chuckling, he threw his white tee on, answering, “You go through stages. First stage, you watch me like you are right now, getting all hot and bothered for me.” I rolled my eyes. “Stage two, you let me touch your ass and tits without batting my hand away.”

“Language,” I scolded, biting back a smile. “Our daughter can hear you.”

Dubious, he looked at Lucy, humming to herself now as she pulled the covers over her, lost in her own little world. She was a special kind of special.

“Third stage,” he continued, climbing over the bed and to me, his blue eyes lit with mischief, “you start to dress all skimpily. Short skirts, tiny shorts, shirts that barely cover your stomach, you name it. You wear it, and when I’m around, you find excuses to bend over, flaunting your ass in my face because you know how crazy hot it makes me to see you like that.”

“You’re delusional.”

“But I’m right.”

I looked away. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

He brought his face to mine and brushed his lips against my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut as he kissed me softly and slowly, closing in on my mouth. “Fourth stage, you beg.”

I opened my heavy eyelids. “I beg?” I whispered, feeling warmth between my legs.

He nodded, solemnly, whispering huskily in my ear, “Yes, Tiny, you beg. You’re so malleable in those moments, I could make you do anything. You let me touch you, kiss you, take you up against the wall, the floor, the bonnet of my car, you name it, and you always scream for more. Always.”

I was bright red when he finally pulled away to look at me. Noticing his effect on me, he chuckled. I had to push him away the second that cocky look took place, but even when he was about to slide off the bed, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him back to me.

I kissed him hard, no tongue or softness in my movements. I kissed him possessively, reminding him that he was mine and he completed me. That last night was just a moment of weakness on my part. That Remy was the past and he needed to stay that way.

There was an apology in that kiss, and Jaxon knew it. He kissed me back, angling my head with his hand as he took control, leaving me breathless.

Then he smugly pulled away again and grabbed his patch from the closet. Sliding it on, he ran his hand through his messy hair once and then walked out the door, tossing back, “Pancakes will be ready for Lucy in twenty. Be down there, hot stuff.”

I smiled like an idiot, feeling giddy, last night’s awful breakdown vacant from my mind and heart.

For now.

 

 

 

I was in the shower when Jaxon called from the bedroom door. I shut off the water and hurried out, slipping the towel around my body.

“What was that?” I asked, stepping out.

Jaxon was slipping on his shoes, repeating, “Lucy’s fed and watching some pony show on the television. I’m heading out for work –” He turned to look at me and his words died off. His eyes slowly burned a path down my body. “Fucking hell, Sara,” he cursed, irritated. “Why do you have to tempt me all the time? Couldn’t you have stayed in the bathroom? You know I’m late.”

“I’m in a towel,” I argued, suppressing a smile. “I’m not trying to tempt you, Jaxon. I could be wearing a garbage bag and you’d still find an excuse to touch me.”

He smirked, his eyes glowing with mischief. “You can’t blame me for having a smoking hot wife, Tiny.”

I was about to make a smartass remark when he moved to me, that smile of his bunched to one corner, the dimple on his one cheek deep and sexy.

I tightened the towel around me and shot him a scolding look. “Not now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“That look in your eye. I just showered your sweat off me from last night.”

He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth and raised his brows. “Did you wash the… other parts of me off too, babe?”

I turned my face away when he leaned in to kiss me and suppressed a smile. “Yeah, I did.”

His lips grazed against my cheek. “You know that makes me want to mark you all over again, right?”

His hand grabbed at my ass, and he pulled me closer to him, until I was flush against his large body. I felt his breaths against my face and the wet slide of his tongue along my cheek. I shook a little, my eyes fluttering shut as he worked his magic on me again.

“Jaxon…” I muttered, my voice betraying me. There was that plea in there, the one that begged him to take me roughly, softly, any way he liked.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “Don’t keep turning your head away from me, Sara.”

I turned my head to him, and my eyes slowly travelled to his face. He was different, my Jaxon. Nothing like the pretty boy I grew up with. His features were strong, more prominent. His cheeks hidden behind an inch-long beard that suited him so well. I missed his face, though. It was the face of the man I grew up with, and it was hidden beneath a look that at times caught me off-guard and reminded me of another bearded man. Now that thought saddened me.

What was wrong with me lately?

“You dodging my kiss for a reason?” Jaxon asked, half-amused, half-serious.

“I know what every kiss leads to,” I answered, my lips flinching up into a weak smile. “And we don’t have time for it. You have to go.”

He leaned down again and captured my lips. His kiss started out soft and slow. I didn’t realize how tense my shoulders were until he tasted me. I relaxed them and kissed him back. It frightened me how much I yearned for this man. I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss like it was medicine to my soul. I poured my heart out into this kiss, trying to make up for all the wrongs I committed in the past.

Jaxon pulled away, abruptly, resting his forehead against mine.

“Tiny,” he whispered, his voice aching. I felt his hand at my face, his thumb stroking away the tears that were falling unbeknownst to me. I couldn’t bear to open my eyes. Pain spread across my chest, and I didn’t understand why this was happening to me suddenly.

“Stop thinking about it,” he told me, tenderly. “Stay here, in the now.”

I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I will. I’m trying.”

He frowned, looking concerned for me. “I thought about last night, and it hit me why you’re sad.”

I gave him a questionable look. “And?”

“And this was the time of year you left him. A week from today is when you walked out.”

“When I tricked him.”

“When you had no choice but to trick him,” he corrected.

Huh. It was too. “You think that’s the reason I’m all weird lately?”

“Yeah, I do. And I also think you have a lot of personal shit to get over.”

“Like what?”

“Like your mother.”

My face fell. I shot him a sour look. “There’s nothing to get over when it comes to her. I know exactly what she thought of me right before she died.”

“You have questions.”

“They’ve been answered by Remy. She was raped, conceived me, thinking I was her rapist’s kid. She resented me for it. She never had motherly emotions for me, which is why she was so happy to take Rita in like her own fucking daughter than her actual kid!” I paused, realizing what Jaxon meant. I’d just gone from one to a hundred.

“See?” he said, his brows raised. “You’re not over it. Got a lot of hate in that tiny little bod, and it’s not something I can fuck out of you. Believe me, I tried.”

“So, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Confront it. Talk to a therapist, get that pent-up rage out of you, or hell, have a word with Rita. She might still be kicking around here.”

Hate bloomed inside me at the thought of seeing that bitch. It was likelier I’d beat her face in than sit down and have a docile chat with her.

“She’ll just rub it in,” I said, bitterly. “She’ll carry on how close she was to her.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“I can talk to Frank about it. I haven’t been able to really bring that topic up around him. He’s skittish about her.”

He shrugged one shoulder, looking doubtful. “Your dad’s kind of fucked up, too. Your mom did a number on him. I think he’s the one that has more questions than you.”

I thought of Frank, and my chest tugged for him. “She hurt him.”

Jaxon nodded. “Yeah, she did.”

How my mother could still haunt us all from the graveyard bewildered me.

“Go,” I told him, stroking his cheek with my thumb. “You’re going to be late.”

He kissed me. “And when I get home?”

I smiled against his lips. “When you get back home, I’ll be waiting in bed.”

“On all fours.”

I laughed. “On all fours.”

He studied my face and let out a long sigh. “God, I love you, babe.”

My chest bloomed. “I love you so much, Jaxon.”