Present…
“THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA,” I tease, biting Jaxson’s bottom lip and ripping the buttons of his shirt to expose his chest. He drops his arms, shrugging off the shirt and suit jacket.
The zipper at my back gives and a rush of cool air wafts across my skin. Taking with it, the rest of Jaxson’s patience.
“Fuck yeah, it’s a bad idea,” he hastily agrees, dropping my dress to the floor and wrapping his arm around my waist. Pulling my body to his with more force than needed, he nips my bottom lip and hisses, “The fucking worst.”
Still wearing my high heels, black lace bra and panties, I manage to get my hand between us, the tips of my fingers reaching his black leather belt. His lips crash to mine and using his tongue, he tries to coax them open.
I turn my head, ignoring his insistence. I can’t handle more. No more tension between us. No more arguing with Amelia. No more silent, contemplative looks from my family. No more hearing anyone talk shit about my sister. No more of anything.
Just this.
I’m no longer drunk, but definitely tipsy. My hands are trembling with anticipation and my heart is racing with what I know will finally feel so good.
This may be a mistake; I could be an idiot for ever considering risking my heart without weighing the consequences. The threat of losing Jax as I’ve had him before is credible.
But damn it. If I can’t have him the way I once did, as my friend and confidant, I’ll take all I can get from him now. Whatever the night brings will have to be enough.
Once I’ve freed his belt buckle, I make fast work of the button, and faster work of his zipper. Jaxson falters at my determination, but continues walking us backward.
Diving inside, my hand glides down the long, hard, silky length of him. His body tenses and he stops, his cock pulsating against my palm. He groans in my ear and shoves my back against the wall.
“Fuck, but you don’t play fair,” he taunts, grabbing the wrist to the hand holding him tightly. He squeezes on a hiss and I wince, reveling in the delicious pain.
Breathing deeply, his fingertips toy with the the top hem of my panties. Carefully dragging them down my legs, Jaxson kneels. Once he’s helped me step from them, he tosses them away and places his hand on the back of my calf. He looks up, captivated but hesitant.
Nine years I’ve waited for this, and now I’m a goddamn mess.
I manage, just barely, to catch my breath.
Jaxson stands and hooks my leg by the back of my knee, holding it firmly to his waist.
He leans his mouth to my ear, sucking the lobe viciously before threatening, “Been waiting long enough. You covered?” he asks.
I realize what he’s asking in way of pregnancy. “I’m covered.”
“Good,” he returns. “Brace, Averie. Fast and hard.”
I gasp at his words, voiced as a beautiful promise.
When I look down to watch him hold himself firmly, Jaxson snaps, “My eyes. Your focus stays there.”
“For now,” I jab, met with Jaxson’s unforgiving expression. He’s angry.
What the hell?
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I tilt my head and move in to kiss him. Jaxson’s head rears back. With his eyes capturing mine, he positions himself between my thighs.
Lifting a finger, he rolls the head of his cock over my clit. He smiles and I shiver.
“Need me, do you?” he perversely questions. “You’re aching for it,” he adds, causing my face to flush.
“Of all the men here to choose from, I kind of thought you’d be a sure thing,” I return. “Are you not?”
His eyes narrow at my challenge. Seconds pass…one, then another. When he slides inside, seating himself to the hilt, a string of rushed and quiet curses falls through his clenched teeth. But doing as he swore, his eyes stay to mine.
Jaxson wraps his arm around my back, dropping his hand to again cup my ass. The forearm of this other arm settles on the wall near my head. His tongue plunders my mouth. Desperate to taste. Thirsting to drink. Ravaging with demand.
“Move,” I tell him, pulling away and flexing my hips. “I’m ready.”
“Greedy girl,” he returns, a beautiful smile playing on his lips. “Wasn’t it just you who said this was a terrible idea?”
Again dropping his hand between us, he runs his finger over my clit and my body tenses as I grind out, repeating what he’d said, “The fucking worst.”
“Liar,” he name-calls, then fingers my clit again and asks, “Want me to fix you?”
“Fuck, yes,” I return, gasping for breath
Smiling cruelly with intent, he orders, “Tie yourself to me.”
I’ve done that already. I’ve wrapped all my thoughts around you—I’ve done this for years.
Slamming my eyes closed and doing as he says, I lock my ankles around his back, my arms around his shoulders.
For years I’ve daydreamed of being right here.
When Jaxson still doesn’t move, I right my head, settling our noses and mouths within inches from each other.
So close to having what I’ve always wanted.
The hotel room is dark, but lucky for me the moon’s light breaks through the slits in the heavy curtains. Jaxson’s dark hair, piercing green eyes, two days’ growth over a strong jaw, corded neck, and beautiful body, steal my breath.
My lungs empty—I can’t fucking breathe.
Shifting my hips, wishing he’d give me what I want, I call, “Jaxson?”
Clearing his throat, shaking his head, and setting his face to my neck, he rumbles, “I’ve thought about you, Averie.”
“What?”
“I was wrong. You weren’t ready.”
“What?”
“You had to find your own way alone.”
He can’t do this. Not now. Not here.
“Jaxson, stop.”
“You needed time.”
“Jaxson, I need you to go,” I tell him.
“Right now, baby,” he states, rocking his hips back and driving in deep.
Finally.
“Please,” I beg, not alluding to exactly why.
Please don’t stop moving inside me.
Please don’t let me go.
Please don’t break my heart again.
I’m emotional. A puddle of mess he can bend, shape, and make his own.
Damn it. I knew this was a bad idea. But why does us coming together seem as if all the pieces to the puzzle, which we are, feel so right?
Jaxson’s drives continue, ramming hard, taking us to the brink but never giving us enough. My hands roam the sheen of sweat over his bare back, dropping to his trouser covered ass. The room starts to spin as his thrusts become fevered. I rest my cheek to his shoulder, my lips to his neck, my hands braced flat against his back. Every muscle in his body rolls and shifts in tandem to each drive.
“Eyes to mine, and we finish together,” he dictates, his voice is raspy, controlled but seemingly on edge.
Jaxson’s hand comes to my neck where he wraps his large palm around, gripping tight. He holds my jaw firmly in his grasp and his breath fans my face. Our bodies rock together; pushing my back into the wall—harder and harder, again and again—the punishing blows never ceasing.
“I’m there, Jaxson,” I warn, so close.
“Beg for it,” he demands. “Say please, Averie,” he orders. “Beg me to let you come.”
“Please,” I return. “Please, Jax.”
His green gaze blazes with renewed determination. His jaw clenches, testing the vein at his temple. His nostrils flare. His hand at my jaw tightens and he studies his fingers, opening my lips before sliding one inside. Then another. I suck with fervor before he pulls them away and Jaxson’s eyes slam shut.
Doing as he did, I insist, “Eyes to mine.”
When the beauty of his stare crosses over my face, I’m lost.
Completely. Totally. Done.
I thought I’d crushed on him as a kid. Been infatuated with him as a teen. Fantasized over him as an adult.
But now, I know. Sometime, over the course of the last few years, I’ve gone and fallen in love with Jaxson Joseph Cole.
I’m fucking ruined. Our relationship as it was, and all we’ve built it on, is done.
Breathing labored, his hand squeezes my neck again, holding me firmly against the wall. Our eyes lock and our lips touch.
Three very controlled, very powerful, thrusts are all there’s left to take us to the edge.
As promised, together we lose ourselves to release.
Me first, shouting down the room.
Him next, groaning in my ear and biting the skin at my neck.
Once we’ve succumbed, Jaxson stills. I don’t know what to say.
Moments pass then his body starts to shake with laughter. My stomach sinks with mortification.
I swallow hard and wait.
My unease becomes evident as I voice in an uncertain whisper, “Let me go.”
Jaxson settles, bringing his infuriated eyes to mine. Losing all humor, he coldly states, “That will never fucking happen again.”
I don’t have the sense to contemplate his answer. I’m suffering under the humiliation of doing what we’ve done, being left as I am. Naked, physically and emotionally.
But rather than lend him my doubt, I reply, “Then at least set me down.”
“We need to get out of here,” he tells me, dropping me to my feet, fixing the cup of my bra in place.
Holding his hand to regain balance, I look up. He’s already starting to dress. His shirt hangs open in the front, his pants undone. His hair is a mess. Jaxson looks as I probably do. Thoroughly fucked.
“Averie, really. We gotta go,” he rushes, tucking himself back in and doing this still smiling.
We have to go? Why the rush?
Grabbing my panties from the floor, I slide them on. My dress follows. I stand straight, finding what looks to be a senior citizen’s walker in the corner. A black bag hangs from a white handle. An old-fashioned suitcase with no wheels sits at his side.
What in the world?
Casting a further glance, I take two steps toward the bathroom. Maybe I can hide there until he’s gone, never to set eyes on him again. My plans are foiled as I’m grabbed by the arm at the same time I catch a glimpse into the small, dark bathroom, lit up by a nightlight. Prescription pill bottles litter the basin.
Really, what the hell?
“This isn’t a wedding party room,” he tells me.
Furrowing my brow, I aim to clarify. “What? This isn’t your room?”
Shaking his head, Jaxson rights my bra strap on my shoulder, but not before leaning in to kiss my cheek, fast and hard.
“Saw this door was open,” he explains.
No way. We didn’t just…
“I know you, Averie. There were too many steps up to my room to give you time to change your mind. I wasn’t taking that chance.”
“You brought me into a stranger’s suite and fucked me against the wall in someone else’s room?”
“Yep,” he confirms, no regret.
I’m appalled, but also, amused. Taking another look, I notice a string of pearls on the dresser, along with a light blue plastic case which I know is used to hold dentures.
Oh, my God.
“We didn’t just do this,” I deny.
Still not bothered, he flippantly returns, “We sure as fuck did.”
My burst of laughter comes quickly and I’m forced to bend double, wrapping an arm around my waist.
Jaxson works the buttons of his shirt, which appears to be a wasted effort being there’s only but a few left.
Little old Mr. and Mrs. Whoever will come back to their room, after what was probably a nice dinner. They’ll smell the stench of cheap sweaty sex; find the buttons all over the floor, and wonder, what the fuck?
Once I’ve collected myself, I stand straight and wipe my eyes from laughter. I turn to look for Jaxson. He’s standing at the door, one hand holding the knob, the other his jacket.
So goddamn beautiful.
His expression is intense, examining carefully, full of thought. He waits patiently for me to stop staring, then smiles small and shakes his head.
“You’re pretty when you smile,” he tells me, and I stop moving toward him. “Which hasn’t been often lately.” My expression falls, and my face heats to the compliment. “But you’re gorgeous when you laugh.”
“Jaxson,” I strangle out, unsure how to respond.
Please don’t let this ruin our friendship.
I need you in my life the way you’ve always been.
I love us.
I love you.
But no matter. I’ve daydreamed of him saying anything remotely close to what he did. For years. I never once, in all my dreams, imagined those words said in such a beautiful chorus of emotion.
This is bad. So bad.
“This was a terrible idea,” I tell myself, walking to him and grabbing his proffered hand.
Touching his lips to mine, he squeezes my and smiles, while returning, “No, Averie. This was the best fucking idea we’ve ever had.”