Reckless

Ty slapped a hand to his chest. “I didn’t start or spread the rumors, dude. Have you ever heard of me saying anything about anyone?” He paused only a millisecond before adding, “’Cause if you have, it’s a lie.”



His flicker of uncertainty made Jax laugh. Ty was one of those tight-lipped guys, but Jax knew people could put words in a person’s mouth in this industry. “I don’t really know. I just met her.”



“Just?” Ty asked. “How just?”



“We started talking last night. But I just…you know, met her met her, in the flesh”—soft, warm, juicy flesh—“this morning.”



When he put it into words, it sounded ridiculously cheap. Lewd. Meaningless. So why didn’t it feel like any of those things? Jax couldn’t figure out what made it different. Or if it was just him making shit up in his head.



“Okay, wait.” The smile was back in Ty’s voice, but it was laced with disbelief. “You’re telling me that you just met this girl this morning and she’s already got you pussy whipped?” His laugh was low and hot. “Dude, she’s got to be one awesome fu—”



“Whoa, kid.” Jax restrained the snap of anger, but clear irritation filled his voice. “You’re over the line. Back the hell up.”



Ty’s grin turned speculative, cunning. He adjusted his seat, leaned forward, and pressed his palms to the pommel of the saddle. “You’re awfully defensive about a girl you just met.”



Jax didn’t answer. He was replaying everything in his mind. He’d known in the light of day everything he’d thought had been intriguing and sensual at the time would seem odd when he looked back on it. Having Ty pushing his mind in that direction when he was already feeling insecure about the whole damn thing wasn’t helping Jax’s anxiety.



“All right. What’s going on?” Ty straightened in the saddle and pulled one foot from a stirrup to fold his ankle over the Andalusian’s withers.



“What do you mean?”



“Dude, I’ve known you six years. I’ve seen you go through…I don’t even know how many women. You’ve never acted like this. You’ve never held back on me. It’s like you’re…I don’t know…embarrassed of her…or something.”



“I’m not embarrassed of her. That’s stupid.” He pushed up in his stirrups to relieve his ass and yelled to the lead cameraman, “Carl, are we doing this or not?”



“Hold your dick on,” Carl muttered.



“Is she married?” Ty asked, his voice rising in disbelief. When Jax shot him a scowl, Ty lifted his hand in a helpless gesture as he guessed again. “One of your friends’ girls?”



“Ty.”



“I’m telling you, dude, you may as well just tell me, because you’re stuck with me for the next five, six days, and you know how relentless I can be.”



Unfortunately, Jax did. It was the reason the kid was so successful at such a young age.



Jax tilted his head back and doused himself with his other water bottle. He shook his head like a dog, spraying Ty, who muttered profanities at him.



“This is the thanks I get for teaching you everything you know,” Jax said, wiping his face.



When he dropped his hand, Ty was waiting, elbow on the saddle, chin on his palm, dark blue eyes intensely focused on Jax’s face, mouth a serious line. Silently sending the message that he would wait Jax out and make his week hell on earth if he didn’t give Ty what he wanted.



The kid reminded Jax a lot of Wes with his dark blond good looks, though Ty was taller, leaner, and prettier without the scars Wes had picked up over the years. But Ty had the same maturity as Wes, one they’d both grasped in their very early twenties and one that most young men didn’t grab hold of until much later. One Jax certainly didn’t get a grasp on until about three years ago himself.



“That video could hit Facebook at any time,” Ty said.



“You bastard.”



“You taught me everything I know.”



Jax didn’t take Ty’s threat seriously, didn’t even give a shit if the video was on the Internet. He felt like a far bigger idiot saying, “She’s sweet, okay?”



His horse grew restless again, stepping forward, backward, forward. He called to a guy by the cooler, held up two fingers, and got two more ice-cold bottles of water tossed to him. He passed one on to Ty.



“I don’t know who she is.” Jax poured half the other bottle of water over the stallion’s neck, rubbing it into his coat to keep himself busy while he talked. “She was on my flight here, texted me anonymously at the airport. We texted for like an hour. She was funny and sexy. The conversation got hot, suggestive, but she wouldn’t come sit with me.”



A wary, suspicious sound came from Ty’s throat.



“I know, right?” Jax turned to pour the rest of the bottle on the horse’s hindquarters. “Anyway, I decided to take a chance, invited her to my room. She accepted at the last minute, when I was on my way out.”



“That takes some balls. Guess you lucked out. Who knows what you could have gotten walking into your room.” Ty shivered dramatically. “But don’t be surprised if Entertainment Tonight calls asking for an exclusive on your new YouTube sex video.”



Jax’s skin chilled as if he’d poured a bottle of water over his own head. He hadn’t thought of that. “She didn’t seem to know who I was. And I lucked out all right. God, she’s…” His whole body lit up. “It’s crazy how much I like her.”



Ty said nothing.



Jax glanced at him. “What?”



“Did she drug your drink?”



Jax sighed. “What does that mean?”



“Do you like getting fucked over, Chamberlin? Do you seriously think this chick doesn’t know who you are?”



“Yeah, I do. I’m not you, kid.”



“No, asshole, you’re way bigger than me.”



“Was,” Jax said. “You’ll learn once you’re out of the spotlight, they forget you fast.”



Ty shook his head, his expression filled with disgust. He picked up his reins, twisted to sit right in his saddle, and cantered through the trees back toward the filming perimeter.



“Tyler!” Russ Matthers’s yell never reached the kid. He was long gone. The director, who was also acting as stunt coordinator, called to Jax, “Where is he going?”



Jax grinned, shrugged. “Not my day to watch him.”



“I knew having the two of you together on the set would be like herding cats.”



“It wasn’t my fault, Dad.” Jax lifted his hands in innocence. For as much as Jax had worked with the man over the years and as good as the man had been to him, Russ had probably been more of a dad to Jax than his own father—who’d been too busy making movies and having affairs around the world to participate in his family. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”



Russ had always been a phone call away. He’d given Jax some of the best advice of his life. Russ’s mention had gotten Jax some of the biggest roles of his career. He’d been at every one of Jax’s award events, even if none of Russ’s own films had been nominated. Russ had been to the emergency room with Jax at least half a dozen times. Not one member of his family had ever been around to take Jax to the hospital. Even as a kid, the nanny had been the one to take him.



“Son,” Russ played along with the role, wiping sweat from his face with his forearm. “Go get your brother. I’ve got enough trouble with these damn cameras.”



“He’s such a pain in the ass,” Jax called as he turned the direction Ty had gone. “Why’d you and Mom have him when you already had perfection in me?”



Russ’s laughter followed Jax as he cantered into the trees. It didn’t take Jax long to find Ty. He just followed the high-pitched female squeals. Ty had ridden over to the fence line and was off his horse, signing autographs. Jax pulled up, still within the trees. He didn’t need to get any closer to that screeching than necessary.



Pulling his cell from the saddle, Jax checked for a text from Lexi first—nothing—then texted Ty.



JAX: Your fifteen minutes of fame are over, kid. Grab the phone numbers you really want and get your ass back to the set or Dad’s going to ground you.



Jax looked up from his phone, wondering why Lexi hadn’t texted him back. Then wondered why he cared. He’d gotten a killer blowjob out of the deal. She was the one shortchanged if she wouldn’t see him again.



But uncharacteristic doubts slid in. Had he been a disappointment? Not what she’d expected? Not rough enough? Not crude enough? Should he just have fucked her? Or maybe she’d been expecting more romance. Something slower, sweeter.



His phone chimed.



TY: Come out here. See if anyone remembers you.



JAX: Tainted cross section of the population. You’ve already told them I’m here. I don’t need an ego boost.



TY: I haven’t. I’ll prove it. Then you come out here and prove to yourself that chick is lying about not knowing who you are.



“I have a friend with me today,” Ty yelled to the crowd, “who I think will make the ladies happy.”



The women erupted in screams and cheers again. Despite Jax’s denial about the need for an ego boost, warmth and excitement spurted into his chest the way it used to at the sound of applause. That love of recognition sure as hell died hard. Especially since he’d lived with it his entire life—acting before he could walk. Theater until his late teens, when he’d transitioned to film. Just like Ty.



“Fucking idiot,” Jax muttered.



“But he thinks,” Ty yelled over the crowd, and they quieted to hear him, “I’ve told you who he is. So if anyone knows who’s here with me today, I want you to yell out his name.”



The names of a few of Ty’s costars floated out of the audience, but not Jax’s.



“Come on, ladies. I’m upping the ante. I will kiss any woman”—screams of excitement interrupted Ty—“on the mouth, with tongue”—more screaming, cheering, women jumping up and down— “who can tell me who’s hiding in those trees over there.”



When no one guessed correctly, he offered to have dinner with the woman who gave the right answer. When he had dozens, maybe hundreds, of women frothing at the mouth, Ty offered to sleep with the woman who knew.



“For God’s sake.” Jax rubbed sweat off his face and texted Ty.



JAX: You made your point. Get your ass back to the set now.



“Dude!” Ty yelled toward the trees. “Your fans await.”



Jax sighed, frustrated as his tired legs tried to control the antsy Friesian. “Guess it’s time for the kid to learn just how fast those fans forget you once you’ve left the box office,” he said to the stallion. “Let’s do this, buddy.”



Jax released the pressure of his legs on the horse’s sides, easing him into a canter toward the fence line.



His last big film had been over three years ago, and Jax steeled himself to the disappointment of being unrecognized. He told himself he was simply acting. Just running a scene.