Niagara Falls roared in her head, drowning out her thundering heart and the wild rush of joy his words had elicited before sanity had kicked in.

Boy, had it kicked hard. She hadn’t stopped rubbing the spot between her breasts yet. Pretty soon she’d have a wear mark.

“Cass? Did you hear me?”

“You intend to commit to me?” she repeated slowly, giving her gray matter enough time to start working again. “As if it’s a foregone conclusion.”

“Nothing is foregone, but I know you assume that I don’t know what it means. To commit.”

She shrugged off the hand he’d clamped dangerously close to her throat. “Stop saying that word. It makes me think of sanitariums.”

His laughter sounded stilted. “Okay. We’ll call it whatever you prefer. I’m just saying I want us to have a thing.”

“Dude, that is the most romantic proposition ever.” Rolling her eyes, she started to stand.

And fell right back down on her ass as he dropped to his knees in front of her and gripped her hands. “I know I’m not great at this. I’ll get better. The important part is that I’m committed—”

“Jax,” she warned. “What did I tell you?”

He blew out a breath and threw back his head, staring at the ceiling for a long moment while her gaze drifted over his body, clad only in disturbingly snug boxers. The guy had a ton of tattoos and obviously added to the canvas regularly. This was the first time she’d gotten a good look at his body, and holy hell, the amount of ink he had was staggering. Latin phrases, intricate black tribal designs, the occasional striking pop of color, usually turquoise. His skin seemed…alive. Vivid. A moving masterpiece.

The golden flesh and muscles beneath were nothing to sneeze at either.

No wonder it took her a minute to realize he was speaking. His perfect full lips were moving, but she couldn’t drag her focus from the baseball tattoo on his right bicep bisected by an arrow as if it were a heart. She kept hoping he’d turn around and show off the tattoo on his left shoulder blade that coordinated with Chase’s and referred to his nickname—a couple of fanned out Jack of Hearts playing cards with a few scattered silver jacks.

Maybe if she could get him to bend over…

“Are you listening to me, Cass?”

“Huh?”

“There’s absolutely no reason we shouldn’t be able to make this work,” he went on, clearly unaware that she’d zoned out when confronted by all of his almost naked magnificence. “We have a shared past. There are—”

“We do? Where are my groupies?” She pretended to look around. “Where is my stint in rehab?”

“I was not in rehab, I went to a spa. For one week.”

“Chase said you had a partying problem that led to your forced ‘spa’ trip.”

“Did Chase also mention that happened when I was a twenty-year-old kid faced with more money and women and substances than ever before?” Jax scowled. “I got it together. I haven’t had a drink in months and smokes in even longer than that. And seriously, with a family tree like yours, you’d think you could be a little more sympathetic.”

Heat flooded her face. “Family tree or not, I never succumbed.”

She waited for him to throw her condition in her face as explanation, but he didn’t. He just rested his palms on his thighs and nodded, looking so earnest her heart broke a little. At least chipped. “No. You’re stronger than us. But I’ve learned. I’m on the straight path now. I have a business, I’m back in my hometown. I want more than I’ve ever had before. I want—”

“I’m the proper wife for you in your new good guy role, right?” It was her turn to watch color rise in his cheeks. And panic flare in his golden eyes. “Our families live next door to each other, my brother is your buddy, you guys own a business together. I’m a business owner myself and suitably scandal-free, minus that little problem last year that you warned me away from.”

“I…well, okay, fine. I wouldn’t have termed it that way. The wife thing or—whatever.” He flapped his hand, looking more than a little piqued. “But what you said, yeah, it’s true. It all makes sense. You’re big on being practical, and once you think this through, you’ll see I’m right.”

“Oh really?” She sincerely doubted it.

“Yes, really. The only thing we were missing was the sex component, because I’m sorry, I can’t be sure about anyone until I know we’ll work, fucking-wise. But that’s not a problem. You’re good. We’re amazing, and we’ll get even better with practice. So—”

“So now you can fuck yourself with my blessing.” She rose and fought back the shivers of cold rage that had overtaken her body. How one man could wring so many reactions from her in one day, she’d never understand.

First he’d felt guilty about tarnishing her pristine pussy, due to his relationship with Chase and his status as her protector. Remorse had sent him fleeing from her bed the other night, just as she’d originally assumed. Then he’d clearly decided he liked her pristine pussy enough to risk the one thing he’d never put into play before: his bachelor status.

She couldn’t deny she wasn’t a little bit flattered—it wasn’t like the PP had ever gotten that much interest before, including from her ex—but seriously, come on. It wasn’t 1835. He didn’t have to marry her to make up for ruining her, for God’s sake. And at this point, she could honestly say she wasn’t interested in having more sex with him, so using that as a carrot? Major fail.

“Cass—”

“Don’t bother.” Getting mad was better than letting the hurt seep through. He hadn’t even said he liked her, never mind anything more serious. If he didn’t know the importance of being in love when it came to relationships, he was even more clueless than she’d given him credit for. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“What is your problem, woman?” He jerked to his feet and crossed his arms, doing that looming over her thing that both pissed her off and turned her on. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother even trying to communicate with you.”

“You and me both. Find another Stepford bride, Wilder, because this good girl’s gone bad.” She glared at him over her shoulder as she stomped to the door. “Good luck searching for her while I’m riding motorcycles and having sex and drinking and…and…getting a tattoo!”

She slammed the door on his astonished expression.

Bastard.

Jax woke the next morning no closer to a solution—or hell, even an explanation—for how he’d so spectacularly failed the night before. He’d hit new heights even for him.

He’d anticipated resistance. That was to be expected. A woman who imagined a man dying on a frequent basis probably wouldn’t agree to being in an exclusive relationship with said man without a bit of wooing. He’d anticipated that, had even looked forward to it with the naiveté of a man who wasn’t used to dealing with women beyond the occasional home run. Short-term affairs were a much different beast than being coupled up, he was discovering, and he’d failed to plan his attack adequately.

But dammit, this was Cass. She knew him. They’d been running in each other’s backyards and flinging insults for damn twenty plus years, minus that decade in between where he and Chase had gone radio silent. Still, she should have cut him a little slack if he’d bungled his relationship speech a bit. He wasn’t some deadbeat jerk. He braked for animals and loved to eat pussy—loved to eat her pussy in particular, as he’d heartily demonstrated—and brought his ma fresh flowers every week. Surely those things weighed in his favor?

Obviously not.

If his fuck up wasn’t enough, she’d threatened to run wild. She intended to take the preliminary lessons he’d given her in being bad and use them against him, possibly with other men. And tattoo guns. And Fireball Whisky.

Like hell.

He gave her space Saturday morning, waiting until she’d gone to work before making his own breakfast and starting his day. He had a lot ahead of him. Since she’d neglected to talk things out with him, he didn’t feel he needed to share his plans for the weekend with her. She’d find out soon enough.

That afternoon he marched into Triple Scoop with a fresh pane of glass for the window beside the door and his toolbox. After sending Cass a wave, he got to work replacing the window. He talked to every customer that came in, fielding questions and comments with jokes of his own about getting paid a sliding scale depending on the owner’s mood. By afternoon, the foot traffic had increased steadily, and he didn’t think it was overstating things to say he was helping business.

Not that Cass seemed grateful. She glared at him all day, especially when he lowered the straps of his overalls to the tank top beneath and used the hem of his shirt to mop up his sweaty face. He wasn’t impervious to the whispers and giggles from the assorted female clientele. He even got a few offers for dates. Cass, however, wasn’t one of the ones offering to take him out. Nope, as soon as the glass was in and shining all nice and pretty, she called him a “visual nuisance” and asked him to leave.

“No can do, Chanel.” To piss her off, he patted her on the head before he snapped his toolbox closed. “My associate is stopping by shortly so we can put together additional security for the shop.”

“What associate? Sterling?”

“Chase isn’t coming back from the tour to turn your knobs, so yeah. That would be correct.”

“You are disgusting in every possible way.”

“Duly noted.” He moved behind the counter and went over to the mini gummy bear dispenser, taking a handful before she could nudge him away. Grinning, he dumped them in his mouth and rubbed his hand on her sleeve like he’d done when they were kids.

“Disgusting,” she reaffirmed, looking down to see he hadn’t left anything behind.

“Hands are clean as a church, babyboo.” He held them up, palms out, before he hopped up on the counter. “Sterling’s also bringing over the canine security. Tally Ho.”

“You are not bringing that mutt into my home. I have white carpets.”

“Shh. Better keep your voice down. People might hear that we’re cohabitating like ferrets.”

She blew out a breath and gave him a sunny smile. “What, per chance, are you and Sterling going to do to my shop?”

“First, thank me for fixing your window.”

“Thank you for fixing my window.” She glanced at it before returning her gaze to his face. She didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it was an improvement. “You did a nice job.”

“You’re welcome. Now give me a cup of gummy bears.”

“Those aren’t an adequate lunch,” she muttered, grabbing him an ice cream cone and filling it up with the candy anyway. “I bought sandwiches. Yours is in the fridge.”

Aw, damn, it was hard to stay annoying when she was being sweet. He accepted her offering and flicked a green one in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Salami and provolone?”

“With extra horseradish and lettuce on a Kaiser. Pickles on the side.”

“You’re a goddess.” He leaned down and slipped a gummy bear between her glossy pink lips. She sputtered and laughed, finally swallowing and looking up at him with surprisingly vulnerable eyes. One look from those baby greens and he was done for. “I’m going to put in a camera and a panic button setup, with Sterling’s help,” he explained, feeling charitable. “He’s the blueprint and electronics guy. I’m just the sweat equity. Don’t argue,” he said when she began to. “I want you safe. If you won’t give me anything else, I’ll at least have that.”

Her throat bobbed. “Okay. Thank you.” The words seemed to burn her tongue. “Do what you need to. Just try not to discourage the customers.”

They both knew that was a joke. The place had been popping all day, and he was pretty sure if he took off his shirt, she’d be doing record receipts by dinnertime. His fame was as much responsible for that as his abs, but hell, he was feeling insecure enough after last night’s brush off to take comfort where he could.

He nodded soberly. “I’ll do my best, darling. Don’t s’pose you’d be willing to give me some sugar before I get back to work?”

She pushed his cone into his chest. “There you go.”

“Damn.” He ate more gummy bears and watched her go into the back room. “She’s gonna kill me yet.”

By mid-afternoon, he’d not only lowered the straps of his overalls, he’d removed his shirt too. Between the temperatures in the nineties outside the open door and the work he was doing, he was sweltering. Looking over his shoulder while he was on his stepladder installing the security cameras and finding women examining him with more rapt adoration than Cass had ever shown him—well, that was a bonus.

Not that he was looking for adoration from Cass or anyone else. Kindness and respect would do him fine.

He and Sterling finished not long before Cass ended her nightly shift. Sterling took off with little fanfare, giving Cass a quick hug goodbye and taking a cone of vanilla for his trouble.

If only Jax could be so easily satisfied.

She came into the break room while he stood by the open fridge, guzzling water. Water that he just happened to squeeze over his sweaty head the moment she stepped over the threshold.

Pure coincidence.

It took her a minute to look his way. She strode to her desk first and opened the drawer, shoving some kind of toy inside. And not a sex toy. An actual toy toy. “What the hell is that?” he asked, capping his bottle and tossing it in the recycling bin.

“Freaking flare gun. He brought it in here and started pointing it at his friends. That Millson boy is going to do some damage to someone one of these days.”

“A flare gun’s not a toy. It could kill a person if aimed right. How’d he get his hands on that?”

“How should I know? He said it was his father’s. I’ll call and have him come pick it up.” She turned and leaned back against the desk, seeming to lose her train of thought.

“You send the kid home?”

She nodded.

“With or without ice cream?”

“Without. I’m ready to go and I didn’t want Jo to have to deal with him.”

“Going to grab some dinner?”

She stared at him—more specifically, stared at his chest—her eyes as big as the gap between her pretty lips. Her tongue peeked out to moisten her mouth and his stomach clenched with a liquid curl of heat. “I—huh? What?”

He couldn’t help grinning as he stalked toward her, savoring the flare of hunger across her face. She was salivating for him every bit as much as he was for her. How could she deny this thing between them? It felt as elemental as life.

Worth any risk. Any price.

Instead of repeating his question, he seized her shoulders and pulled her against him, sealing her expensive silky blouse to his wet chest. Her nipples beaded and she bit back a moan at the light teasing circles he drew on her upper arms. “Say the word and I’ll wait for you upstairs in your bed,” he said against her temple, relishing her shiver.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The hard-on in his jeans that had sprung into being with one glimpse of her pursed lips made his voice harsher than he’d intended.

“Can’t. I made plans with some friends.”

“What friends? Summer’s not in town.”

“I have other friends, Jax.” She pushed him back halfheartedly. “I’ve lived here all my life, unlike you. I continue to build the relationships I’ve cultivated here, also unlike you.”

Was that censure in her tone? He frowned as she dug her purse and phone out of her desk drawer. “What time will you be home?”

She tossed her purse over her shoulder and did that sexy sway walk to the door. “Late. Don’t wait up.”

He swallowed a groan. Too late on the up part.

“Cass, what’s your opinion of the subtext in the scene where Ana draws the marker lines on Christian?”

Cass stared at her hip, picturing the raised moon and stars beneath her thin linen pants. It had been five days since she’d gotten the impulse tattoo at Rock Art downtown and the thing still stung a little. She’d gotten a bigger one than she’d planned, but she liked it. DeDe, one of her part-timers from Triple Scoop, had said the blue, purple and silver tat was sexy, so she’d just have to believe her. It wasn’t as if she had any men checking out her body to offer their opinions.

Jax certainly wasn’t. After last weekend’s dual debacles, they were barely speaking. In the almost week since, they’d talked a grand total of three times—once about their parents’ upcoming joint picnic on Saturday, and two other times about her security plan. So far so good there. Things had been quiet on that front since last week’s busted glass, and she knew it was silly to hope yet again that her stalker had gone on to greener pastures. The cops hadn’t found any leads and the tests Jax’s cop friend had run on the DNA on the letters had come up inconclusive.

Basically, the case was at as much of a standstill as her newly dormant love life. Newly dormant again, because dormancy was her natural state of being.

Multiple orgasms…not so easy come, way too easy go. And she wasn’t even going there with the vaginal ones. No. Just no.

“Cass?” Sondra, her book club leader, leaned forward and tapped her pen on the coffee table. “You with us tonight or what? If you haven’t read the scene in Fifty yet, go ahead and say so. There’s no judgment here.”

She hadn’t read any of the book yet. She’d been so busy with work and Jax and her stalker and thinking about Jax…common theme there. If she hadn’t been feeling guilty enough about not telling him about the interior door security breach, now she was starting to think she’d overreacted to his little speech last week. Maybe he really did have some sort of feelings in her direction other than a desire to serve and protect. He’d proven he cared time and time again. Although when he’d had her bent over his bike, he definitely hadn’t been trying to take care of her.

She fought a smile. Well, all right, so yes, he had. In his own inimitable style.

Perhaps he wanted more and didn’t know how to ask for it. She’d been so on edge lately that she went over the top at the slightest provocation. She should give him another chance. Offer an apology of her own and see if they could talk things out.

Or fuck things out, she wasn’t terribly choosy.

“Earth to Cass.” Sondra tapped her copy of the book on the table. “Are you in distress?”

Yes, I am. I miss his laughter. His teasing. His dirty talk. His tongue. His cock.

She swallowed the stream of responses and plastered on a bland smile, preparing to answer. Then she looked up and choked on her next breath.

“Evening, ladies.” Jax strolled into the room, wearing only a pair of unbuttoned faded jeans that clung almost obscenely to his long, muscled thighs. He carted a tray of beverages. “Who’s thirsty?”

A chorus of eager replies drowned out the pound of her heart, but it sure didn’t abate the quick flutter in her chest as he walked around dispensing sodas and iced tea. His tatted back and torso were slightly wet, as if he’d misted himself with water before strolling into the room.

She so wouldn’t put it past him.

Her friends were giggling and yipping like a bunch of hyper dogs. Even Tally looked up from where she’d curled up in front of the sofa and wagged her tail until Jax gave her a couple of silky strokes. If Ming hadn’t been hiding in the closet ever since Tally’s arrival, she probably would’ve wanted some lovin’ too.

“Good book?” Jax sat on the arm of Sondra’s chair and picked up her copy of Fifty, turning it over to read the back cover blurb. He lifted a brow. “Wow. Deep stuff.”

“It is,” Sondra agreed. “You’d be surprised how much so. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Cass shoved down farther in her seat and hoped to disappear. Just what she needed—her lover being present for a book discussion that often included vigorous debates on bondage, dominance and submission. Ex-lover, but still.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I’m better at playing beverage boy.” He chuckled and reclined against the back of the chair, kicking out his long denim-clad legs. “Fits my role in life, y’know? Good time Charlie at your service. I’m sure I’d be no good at analyzing something so complicated as a big ol’ book.”

Cass hunched her shoulders and gripped the edge of the couch cushions. Did he really have to make her feel so awful? He hadn’t even offered her a drink and she was positively parched.

“Aw, hon, I’m sure that can’t be true.” Sondra patted his knee in her typical grandmotherly way. “Besides, this isn’t your ordinary tome.” Cass glanced up in time to see her wink. “I bet you’d be an expert at this particular subject, Jaxy.”

Jaxy? Oh my God. Sondra was trying to cougar him, right there in Cass’s living room.

Cass stumbled to her feet. “Hey, ladies, maybe we should adjourn early this week. My handyman—” she winced inwardly, “—probably can’t concentrate on his work with all our chattering in here.”

“What is your work?” Nina asked.

Jax rose and gave Nina an easy smile that didn’t match the fire in his hazel eyes. He was mighty pissed, but what did he expect? She had to acknowledge his presence somehow and she couldn’t call him her bodyguard or her boyfriend, now could she?

You could’ve called him your boyfriend if you weren’t such a raging bitch.

“Actually, it’s kind of an intimate subject, but I know Cass wouldn’t mind telling all of you since you’re such good buddies. See, I’m not close enough of a friend to know where she goes at night, but I bet you’re all close enough to know what I’m doing in her bedroom.”

“Jax,” Cass warned, her heart rate spiking dangerously. If she didn’t keel over, she might practice her first death by fire fantasy technique on him tonight.

“Y’all gotta promise not to tease her about it, okay? She’s a shy, sensitive sort.”

A chorus of answers in the affirmative sprang up around them while Cass debated leaping across the coffee table and tackling him to the rug. Whether she’d claw his eyes out or ride him like a bronco was anyone’s guess, including hers.

“I’m building her a sex swing.” He managed to look shame-faced even while his eyes danced. “You know, for sensual gratification.”

“Oh my,” Sondra gasped and swung her gaze to Cass. “You go, girl!”

“That’s me,” Cass said tightly. “Sex swing girl.”

The minute Sondra looked away, Cass mouthed at Jax, “I’m going to kill you.”

He gave her a sunny grin. “I better get back to my hammering and nailing. She’s got a real hankering to use that swing.” He licked his lips and raised his brows at Cass. “You guys have fun. Don’t be too naughty now.”

A minute after he left, Nina whispered, “Oh my God. That man is one fine piece of ass.”

“He’s an ass, all right,” Cass agreed, burying her nose in her book to hide her flaming cheeks.

The rest of the book club meeting passed in a haze. Cass tried to contribute even though she wasn’t current with the story. She soon discovered it didn’t matter because everyone stared at her with open admiration every time she spoke. Either because she was ballsy enough to hire someone to build her a sex swing or because she had a half-naked Jax walking around for their viewing pleasure—it was hard to say which.

Naturally the meeting dragged on longer than usual. When the group finally shuffled out, half of them peering over their shoulders most likely in the hopes of catching another glimpse of a shirtless Jax, it was past eleven. Several of them remarked on his work ethic and devotion to the job.

Cass nodded and smiled and plotted ways to maim him without leaving a mark.

Once she closed the door behind the last of her guests, she counted to two hundred. By then she could breathe without screaming.

Then she made the mistake of turning around.

“You know, maybe I really should build you a sex swing.” Jax rubbed his sweating beer bottle over his bare chest as if he were still caught in thought. “I’ve been reading up on them, just to pass the time. Apparently the depth of penetration is incredible. You’d have to let me know how that worked out for you, now that you’re Ms. Wild Thang.” He toasted her and tipped back the bottle.

It would’ve been easy to toss back some kind of snarky response. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She also wouldn’t engage with him at all until they’d cooled down, both anger-wise and otherwise.

God, if she stood there watching him rubbing the condensation from that beer over his bare skin for another minute, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

Eh, to hell with it. She knew how to handle her needs. And this time, she wouldn’t wait until he left. Let him listen and eat his heart out.

She rushed past him down the hall to her bedroom.

“Oh no, you fucking don’t.” He charged after her and even with her running start, she’d barely gotten the lid up on her trunk and wrapped her fingers around the vibrator when he hurtled through the door she hadn’t taken time to lock. He made a dive for the bed and grabbed the edge of her shirt, yanking hard enough to make her screech. She kicked out at him, somehow wriggling away and jumping over his legs to charge down the hall to the only other room with a lock—his bedroom.

Gasping with a strange mix of exertion, anxiety, excitement and fear, she whirled to shut the door and came face to face with her nemesis.

“You’re way too slow, Chanel.” He backed her into the room and wrapped his arm around her back, seizing her vibrator and pulling her tight to his body with one swift movement. “Free lesson—always lock the door.”

She watched him lift her vibrator high above her head as her back hit the wall. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

His teeth gleamed in the near darkness. “You can bet I won’t give you one now.”

“What’re you going to do?” she demanded. “Use that on me?”

He lifted it to his mouth and caught the tip between his teeth as he popped open the battery compartment. “You think I need this?” His laughter enflamed her already roasting skin as he sent the batteries rolling across the floor. The toy followed after with a sickening crash. “I’m about to show you how wrong you are.”

She cried out as he boosted her up the wall, not stopping until he pressed his mouth to the slash of her navel revealed by her bunched up blouse. With one flick of his tongue over that sensitive place, she shuddered and clutched at his hair. She was already dizzy, just from the thrill of being chased. From him sliding his mouth lower and latching it over her swollen, wet cleft, suckling her through the thin layer of her pants and panties. She’d dressed lightly due to the heat and his tongue seemed to shear through the fabric right though to skin and bone.

“Jax.”

“That’s it. Cry out my name. How much has your pussy been aching this past week without me?”

She fisted her hands in his hair and fought not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. She wanted to string out the taut wire of need between them. When it snapped, she feared she’d get lashed.

His tongue whipped against her raw nerve endings, bathing her in warm moisture that sent her flying even higher though he’d pinned her in place. She arched, grinding into his face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I missed you.” He licked her harder and she shook uncontrollably.

“When? Tell me exactly when you missed me, baby.”

She knew the answer he expected, the one she ached to give. Anything else would show more of her hand than she wished. More than she’d even been able to admit to herself until this moment.

Her throat swelled with a longing that went way beyond the physical. “When you were gone.”