Chapter TWENTY THREE
“Ahhh,” I moan in pleasure as I slide Lani’s shoes off my feet. They’re one-size too small and I think I’m going to have to soak my toes for a week in order to get them back into their natural shape.
“Someone didn’t come home last night,” Kelli says from the couch, not in her normal happy-go-lucky voice.
I toss my bag on the table, then lean over to rub my feet. “I stayed at Jax’s. Lani gave me clothes to wear today and, let me tell you, while I’m proud I managed to squeeze into her skirts, I may never walk again from the foot binding I endured today.”
She tilts her head at me as her eyes squint in question. “You stayed at Jax’s? Like in the suite?”
I nod. “Yes. It was,” words fail me. “Incredible.” I sound like a boy-obsessed fool.
“Oh. Okay. Great.” She says the words in quick succession. “So that’s the week then. He checked out?”
I walk over to the couch and move a cushion over to take a seat at the end. There’s a neat stack of magazines on the coffee table that has a glossy sheen t it. The apartment is always clean, yet right now it feels extra clean. I think Kelli is going a little stir crazy being out of work.
“He’s staying here until we decide what our next step is. Is that okay with you?” I ask, curling up into the arm of the sofa.
She blinks at me, not saying a word. I caught her off guard and she’s paying catch up. I should probably alert her that there’s also a miniature pig coming into our residence.
Kelli looks around the room and then stares at the sofa cushions for a moment. It’s eerily silent and I get a shiver up my spine as I sit quietly and wait for her to respond.
“Yeah. Yes, of course. You two are working things out. He can definitely stay here.” She nods and ten turns to me and makes a silly face. She pushes a hair behind her hair and groans. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it. Looking for a job is a bitch.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. If him being here bothers you at all we can look for another place to stay. I don’t want to put you out. I also don’t want to bail on you. This all happened so fast, I’m trying to do the right thing by everyone.”
She stands up. Her booty shorts ride up her crotch so she pulls them down. “Stop worrying so much. You two should stay here. There’s no need to start thinking about moving in or moving out. Let’s just see how things pan out in a week or so.”
I know what she’s thinking: Jax will leave and I’ll end up with a broken heart. I get why she’d worry. For almost ten years, she’s heard me talk about the nightmares, the memories and the pain that one person bestowed on me. For someone witnessing it all from the outside, this must be a lot to take in. and there’s no way to explain to her the journey we’ve been on the last few days.
She walks to the kitchen and grabs a beer. She offers me one. I decline.
I lean my shoulder against the sidewall. “So, Kevin’s at the hotel. He said he called you.” I leave the comment open ended.
She slaps her head as she bends he knees and starts cackling. “I forgot all about that. He said he was coming and wanted to surprise you. It was sweet.”
“He looked hopeful. Like he thought he might be here to have a different conversation. It seemed like maybe you gave him the wrong impression.”
She gives me a dumbfounded expression. “Is that right?”
Her chest puffs out. I know that stance. She’s getting defensive and that makes her feisty and not the cute kind.
“No more meddling. Okay?” I give her a stern warning before pushing off the wall and walking into the living room to grab my shoes.
“It’s pretty late. What time is he coming?” she asks as she takes a long pull of her beer.
I glance at the cable box to see the time. “Pretty soon. He went for drinks with the guys. It’s cute how they’re taken him under their wing.”
“They could be leaving him for dead in the Bay.”
“That, too. I’m holding out hope they’re just having drinks.” I unbutton my blazer. “My night was crazy. The hotel is swamped with record executives and music critics. There’s this up and coming artist there. He has a big concert tomorrow night so they’re all here to check out his music. It’s wild, but it’s exhausting.”
Kelli shakes her head. “I would feel sorry for you if I didn’t think you were going to get major tips on the tail end. Don’t forget to get an autograph from that musician. Better yet, steal something. It’ll be worth money.” She taps a finger to her lips and adds, “Strike that, give me the key. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit and get a little something-something for myself.”
I throw a pillow and her waggling eyebrows. She catches it and laughs into the pillow. My shoulders relax at our usual rapport back in action. The air in the apartment seems easier to breathe than it did minutes ago.
A knock on the door and ceases Kelli’s laughter.
“Jax!” I exclaim and climb over the couch. In nano seconds I’m at the door.
He’s still wearing his outfit from the wedding and has his phone in his hand.
“Who are you always texting?” I grab his phone and place it on the table next to mine and then grab his hand. He has his guitar case slung over his shoulder, a large duffle bag ontop of it and Olivia Benson’s cage in his other hand.
“Ella. She’s been demanding updates since I boarded a plane to get here.” He kicks the door closed with his heel as I pull him into the living room.
“Is that a pig?” Kelli’s mouth is open and her tongue is slightly out like she’s half dumbfounded and half disgusted.
“You won’t even know he’s here.” He gives Kelli’s stunned face a kiss hello as I continue to guide him into my room.
Once inside, we settle his suitcase against the side-wall, rest his guitar case on the ground and set Olivia Benson up on the lanai.
“How did it go?” I half ask, half exclaim. I’m kneeling on the bed in complete anticipation.
He toes off his sneakers and empties his pockets on my bedside table. “Drinks with the guys was good. Kal tells some pretty funny stories. Word has it you get pretty mouthy when you drink. Looks like I’m going to have to get you to start drinking rum.”
I swat him in the arm. “Not with them. With Asher!”
“Did you know his real name is Alexander Gutierrez. You should start calling him by the right name.”
“Ugh! Semantics. What did you two discuss?”
He stands there in complete silence. The suspense is absolutely killing me. grins. “He wants me to work for Black Dog Entertainment.”
I jump up and down and clap at the same time.
He continues, “He introduced me to Noah Kanë and we hit it off. He’s going to start working on his sophomore album next year. We kicked around some ideas so we may work together. Nothing in writing yet.”
I can’t contain my elation. I bounce on the bed making it squeak. Olivia Benson comes in, probably to see if there’s another pig in here. “This is great. What about False Accusations. Can you still work with them?”
“He’s really open to me keeping my prior commitments. Any new clients I take on moving forward would be through Black Dog and I’m considering it. I like the idea of working for one company and having a home base. Plus, the compensation he’s talking about is better than any other jobs I’ve been offered. He really cares about his artists.”
I throw my arms around his neck. Inhaling that warm scent of honey I melt into his embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Proud of me? You got the interview. I haven’t decided anything yet so don’t get too excited.”
I hold myself arms length away from him. “Why wouldn’t you take the job?”
“I’m not going back to New York when you’re here, Trish.”
His sentiment is wildly endearing and I nearly fall backward on my bed at the way it makes me feel on the inside.
Loved.
Cherished.
Considered.
“Jax, if you move to New York, I’m going back with you.”
I hear Kelli yelp from the there side of the door. If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s listening in on our conversation.
Jax steps away from me and puts his hands on his hips. His brows are pinched in. “You just got here. You made life for yourself. What about your friends?”
“That was before you came back into my life.” This time I actually do fall back and sit on the bed. “Unless you don’t want me to follow you.”
Seeing the insecurity in my posture, Jax falls to the ground and kneels in front of me. His hands are quickly reaching out to me, pulling my hands into his. “The issue isn’t that I don’t want you going back to New York with me. The issue is I’m not leaving Hawaii. This is your home. You have a job you love and friends you care deeply about. I’m not making you leave your home for me.”
“Where’s home for you? Don’t you want to go back to Ella and Vivian. Or to L.A. with your friends?”
He grabs my face. His fingers lace in my hair and his thumbs gently caress my cheeks. “You’re my home. Where ever you are, I am.”
I roll my eyes. The cheesy musician in him is really pour out lately and it’s all too much. I lean forward and laugh. It starts out light and then it builds into big, crazy laughter that bubbles from chest and has me grabbing at my stomach.
“Something funny?” He lifts that brow as I wipe away a tear and then another. My giggles dissipating. The feeling is not.
I can feel my face tightening with the huge smile that is stretching across my face.
I grab his shirt and start undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I hate this shirt,” I confess as I unbutton it all the way down. I toss it on the floor and it lands on Olivia Benson’s head. He fights with it until he’s free of the fabric and then runs away as if it were a monster on the attack.
“Does any of my other clothing offend you?”
“Yes. These pants.” I make quick work of his zipper but leave his pants on his hips, open and hanging loosely to the side. There’s something in the way his caramel eyes are glassy and searching mine that has me pausing, waiting to hear what it is that's on his mind.
“For years I’ve kept a photo of you in my wallet,” he confesses.
“I saw it. I thought it was an oversight.”
“I wish. That was me pining over you. Pathetic huh?” His cheeks redden lightly with a blush of embarrassment. I decide to pull him out of his misery.
I climb off the bed and kneel under it, pulling out my box of memories. I sit back on the bed and open the top showing Jax the mini-shrine I’ve kept of him over the years.
His brows raise in astonishment. His hands don’t know what to touch first. “You kept all this?”
“You’re not the only sentimental fool around here.”
He’s lifting pieces of paper and dried up roses, pictures and ticket stubs. With every little item, he’s making noises of remembrance and gasps as if he can’t believe these things exist.
I sit back on the comforter and watch him take it all in. Our past wrapped up in a tiny little box. Looking at him and the man he, so powerful and present in my life, this box almost seems insignificant to me now.
He looks up, his eyes glazed over with affection. He puts the box on the ground and climbs up on the bed forcing me back toward the headboard.
Jax’s lips haven’t even touched me yet my mouth is watering to taste him.
His kisses are determined, as are his hands. He has my shirt off in moments and my skirt is right behind it. When his shirt is off, he settles his body between my legs and starts kissing along the hem of my bra and panties.
As he works his way ac up my body, I grab his hand and wrap it around my neck. I press his fingers tips in lightly, urging hi to give it a squeeze.
His body freezes. He leans up and looks down at me. His breath is coming out in huffs and his hair is falling infront of his face.
“Whats the matter?” I ask, catching my breath.
“Why do you want me to hurt you?”
I open my mouth to answer and then stop. Words failing me.
His browns pinch in. “Last night at the hotel…even this morning, you liked it rough. I’m not complaining, but it seems like you’re trying to keep me at a distance.”
I bang my head backward into the pillow. Of course, Jax would be the first boyfriend to ever question my love of kinky sex.
It’s now or never so I reach an arm to my nightstand and pull open the top drawer. I watch as his jaw falls completely slack. His eyes are stunned straight.
Inside my top drawer are my sex toys. Everything from a simple purple tickler to a whip, flog, nipple clamps, and ben wa balls.
His head starts nodding slowly at he rakes over everything in the drawers. Every feather, every piece of leather and battery operated item.
With a grunt he pushes himself off of me, rises form the bed and pulls the whole thing out of the nightstand.
“What are you doing?” I yell as he walks the drawer out of the bedroom.
I hear the sound of a foot stomping and clanging coming from the kitchen. There’s a loud shake and then a slam. Jax walks back in the room with an empty drawer. He closes the door and puts the drawer back in the nightstand.
He climbs back in bed, his bodyback over me.
“If we’re using any toys together it’s gonna be new shit that only you and I have touched.” He’s being completely serious.
I nod in agreement.
“Now, I need to know, when was the last time you made love to someone. With out toys and pain, without gimmicks and roughness. When was the last time you let someone cherish you with nothing but their body and the words of their mouth?”
His question makes my heart stop. Of all the things we’ve conquered in our seven day experiment, this is the scariest of things to admit.
“Not since I was sixteen years old.” I swallow. “Not since I was with you.”
His face falls. His eyes turn down as the realization hits him. “That’s what I thought.”
He gets up again and pulls me along with him. He’s wearing a pair of pants and no shirt.
I’m here in a bra and panties.
“Undress me,” he demands.
I follow my directions.
With steady hands, I undo the belt buckle of his pants. The belt falls to the side as I unzip his pants. I push them down his legs until he’s left in just a pair of black boxer briefs.
Jax raises his hands and tucks a finger under each bra strap. Slowly he lets them fall down my arms. I turn around so he can unhook my bra. He does so and I watch as that falls to the ground.
With his chest up against my back, the heat of his skin warming my nearly naked body, he hooks his fingers into my panties and lowers them down my legs.
I turn around. Placing my palms on his chest, I feel his heartbeat, wildly thumping beneath his skin. I feel the hard muscle under soft skin. My fingers trace the ink that leads down his stomach.
“Who is she?” I ask when I see the eye on his forearm. It makes me gaze up at the lips on his neck.
“You,” he whispers. “But you already knew that.”
Running the pads of my fingers over the tattoo of my eye looking to into the future, I continue my trek back to his stomach and grip the elastic of his boxers and pull them out and over his throbbing erection. I don’t know if it’s because he’s been waxed but he looks bigger than I remember, his girth wider than my dreams.
I wrap my fingers over his shaft and give it a pump an then another, my thumb gliding over the enlarged head.
Jax pushes his boxers down further and then pulls the blankets down on the bed.
Settling in above me, he lines himself up with my entrance, looks down at me and simply whispers, “I’m going to make love to you. Just me and you. Nice and slow.”
I widen my legs and run my nails up and down his back.
“Just promise you’ll never hurt me,” I pull him in with my legs wrapped around him.
“Never again, baby. I promise. Never again.” He pushes in me and I lose my breath. I gasp at the feel of him moving slowly inside. His hips are dipping down and up with each push and pull.
Eye to eye.
Soul to soul.
Touch to touch.
Jackson is slow and gentle. His touch delicate and it’s the most powerful sensation.
I brush a hair away from his brow and look up into his red rimmed eyes that are filled with so much emotion, I can feel it radiating out of every pour of his body.
“I live for you,” he whispers. I look up at him as he continues to move, continue to build, and continues to take me higher to a sensation that has me calling out his name in panting breaths. “Don’t ever worry about me hurting you when you have the ability to shatter me.”
I call out his name again and it’s filed with lust and love and promise.
A promise of love.
A promise of trust.
A promise of forever.
A promise I have every intention on keeping.