Chapter 19
Jax
“So that Bentley’s interesting,” Pop says as we work in the garage we own.
I nod, a massive smile on my face. “She’s incredible.”
“A bit old for you, isn’t she?”
“She’s twenty-four,” I tell him.
“Like I said, a bit old, isn’t she?”
“Bria’s twenty-four,” I point out.
“And look at her. Married with two beautiful children and a successful career.”
“Bentley’s got just as successful a career. Plus, this isn’t the twenties, women are putting off having children later so they can focus on their jobs.”
“Don’t want to put it off too long though, does she? Got that ticking biological clock.”
“Actually, Bentley can’t have children,” I say.
“Oh?” Pop asks.
“Her ex was abusive. Put her in the hospital after beating her to a pulp and stabbing her. Her ovaries had to be removed because of the damage.”
Pop whistles. “That’s a whole lot of baggage she’s got.”
“I can carry it. Besides, she’s been great helping me with my recovery, and has been supportive as hell about my comeback.”
Pop drops the wrench he’s using. “Comeback?” he asks, shocked.
“Well, yeah,” I say. The “duh” is implied. “I’m a BMX rider. I can’t do that if I’m not competing.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I’m confused. Pop has always been behind our careers. For him to start questioning mine now is just weird.
He sighs. “It’s just your recovery took so long this time. And it was your fourth concussion; who knows what damage has been done.”
“This is who we are,” I tell him, pointing to the large Ryan Racing logo we have hanging above the door to the workshop.
“I know it is,” he says, scratching his neck, “but, Jax, this is your health and well-being we’re talking about here. Head trauma is not something you want to be messing with, son. Who knows, maybe your next one will cause permanent damage.”
“So what do you suggest I do then?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“I thought maybe you could come on board as a scout for the team. You have an eye for talent, so I thought we could put it to good use.”
“You want me to sit behind a desk?” I ask, shocked to my core.
Pop shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Sure, there would be videos you would watch, but we’d also send you out to see these guys in person.”
“What type of guys?”
“Any. BMX, FMX, motocross, NRS, SuperMoto, doesn’t matter. Bria’s got us onto a good wicket, and Reed and I want to capitalise on that, build something that your kids can inherit someday.”
“I told you,” I grit out, “Bentley can’t have kids, so there won’t be any kids of mine to inherit shit.”
Pop waves that off. “Jax, you’re twenty years old, use that. Go out and play the field like you used to. Who knows, a week or two down the track you’ll be moving on to someone newer, more exciting.”
“Right, because I’m such a flake I can’t commit to someone for longer than a month,” I say.
“I’m not saying that,” Pop says. “I’m simply suggesting that maybe you might find someone who’s more… suited to you, your personality and lifestyle. You two seem serious. I just want you to be sure that she’s the one.”
“Bentley is absolutely the one. Plus she’s perfectly suited to my ‘lifestyle,’” I tell him, making air quotes. “Fuck, the first time I met her she gave me shit about the Extreme Games. Tell me, how is that not suited to my lifestyle?”
“She’s damaged, Jax,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Life with her isn’t going to be easy. The last thing I want for you, or any of my kids and grandkids, is a difficult life. We’ve already had enough hardship to last several lifetimes. I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing and are going into this with your eyes open. I don’t want…” He trails off. “I don’t want you to look back on your life and say ‘I wish I hadn’t done that, or I wish I had stopped before I did serious damage to myself.’ We only get one life, Jax, and I want you to live it to your full potential.” He sighs. “I just want to keep you safe.”
“You don’t think I have my own damage?” I ask. “I get that you only want the best for me, but shit, Pop, Bentley is perfect for me. It’s not like she’s the only one with baggage, she just doesn’t hide it like the rest of us do. I know she’s not who you envisioned me with, hell, she’s not who I envisioned myself with, but I’ll be damned if she isn’t exactly what I need. I love her and I know I want to be with her for the rest of my life.” I put down my tools and start to head to the door. “You know,” I say, turning to face him, “she has a shit relationship with her parents, but I told her, ‘forget about them, with mine you’ll have more family than you can handle.’” I shake my head. “Never in a million years did I even consider that you wouldn’t take her and love her like I do.”
When I get home, Bentley’s curled up on the couch, reading. I feel a pang in my chest when I see she’s wearing an old Ryan Racing jumper of mine.
“Hey,” I say as I flop on the couch, landing half on top of her.
“Oof,” she says as I land. She tries to shove me off, but I refuse to move. With a huff she gives up. “There is a whole half of the couch free,” she tells me. “There’s no need for you to lump your fat arse on top of me.”
“My fat arse, huh?” I ask. She nods, a mischievous glint in her golden-hazel eyes. I lift my shirt, exposing my six-pack abs. “Darlin’, there isn’t an ounce of fat on these here abs, or anywhere on this fine specimen of masculinity.” She runs her fingernails across my stomach, and my dick springs to life in my jeans.
“Hmm,” she says as she continues to touch me, “you may be right about that.”
“May be?” I ask, shifting so we’re now face-to-face.
“Well,” she says, “you only showed your stomach. I can’t say with certainty that there’s not an ounce of fat anywhere on your body if I can’t inspect it all.”
With a growl, I hop off the couch, grab her hand, and pull her upstairs.
“So you want to tell me what’s up?” she asks as we lie in bed after her “examination.”
“Nothing’s up,” I say.
“You want to try that once more with feeling?”
I blow out a breath. “No,” I say as I rest my head on one of her tits. I play with her nipple, watching as it elongates and hardens.
“Jax,” she says, running her fingers through my hair.
“I had a fight with Pop,” I say, hating how much of a little boy I sound.
“Oh, dude,” she says, and kisses the top of my head. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” she says. For a while we just lie there in silence, her running her fingers through my hair. In this moment, I know what I feel for her is the real deal. She’s perfect for me in every way. My pop is dead wrong about her, about us.
“My pop wants me to stop riding,” I say quietly, breaking the silence. “He says he’s worried about what might happen if I get another concussion.”
“It’s definitely something to be worried about,” she says.
I sit up so I can look at her. “So you think I should stop too?” I ask, heartbroken. I thought she was behind me.
“I didn’t say that,” she says, and squeezes my hand. “I said that what happens if you get another concussion is a worry, but I would never ask you to give up something you love. Do you want to stop riding?”
“Fuck no.” I don’t know who I am if I’m not riding.
“So don’t. Your pop’s only trying to look out for your well-being. You might be twenty, but you’re still his baby, Jax. He’s always going to want to look out for you and protect you; that’s what a good parent does.”
“He wants me to sit behind a desk,” I say, scrunching my nose.
“And do what?”
“Talent scout. Get this,” I say as I lie back down on her chest, “he wants me to find my replacement on the team.”
“I don’t think he sees it like that,” she says. Even though it kills me to hear her defend him, especially with what he said about her, it also kind of warms my heart.
“You’re kind of perfect for me, you know that, right?” I ask her, looking deep into those green eyes I love so much. Yeah, I said the l word, alert the fucking media. I know my pop has his doubts about her, but I couldn’t be surer if I tried. I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain Bentley La Roche is the woman for me.
She scoffs and tries to hide behind her hair.
I sweep it off her face. “I’m dead serious, Bent. If I didn’t know that before, I knew it just then when you didn’t push me to talk. You are made for me, and I love you with everything I’ve got.”
“You l-l-love me?” she stutters, her eyes wide.
“I sure do.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” She opens her mouth to reply, but I slap a hand over it. “Wait, don’t answer that question. I love you, Bentley. You’re incredible, you’re real, you don’t let me get away with shit. You ground me and you’ve helped build me back up. Plus, you have the coolest fucking hair I’ve ever seen, and you knock out guys who are twice your size. What’s not to love about that?”
“You could do so much better than me,” she says.
“True, but Emma Watson lives all the way in England, and long-distance relationships suck,” I say. She shoves me playfully, and I laugh. I grab her around the waist and pull her to me. “Truthfully?” I ask, and she nods. “I could search the world a million times over and I would never find anyone who gets me as well as you do.” Her eyes shine with tears. “But you, well, you totally lucked out finding me. I’d say you’re definitely punching above your weight here, darlin’.” That earns me a real punch on the shoulder. “Ow!” I say as she laughs.
“You’re such an arse! Remind me why I put up with you again?”
“Because you love me,” I say, dead sober.
She stops laughing and looks me in the eyes. “Yeah, I do,” she says.
“Yeah?” I ask, just to make sure I heard right.
“Yes, Jax,” she says, taking my face in her hands, “I love you, though God knows why I put up with you.”
“Well that’s not very nice,” I say, pouting.
“I’ll show you nice,” she says, pushing me to my back before slithering down the bed. By the time she’s level with my dick, he’s ready and pointing straight at her. She doesn’t waste any time, taking me all the way to the back of her throat.
“Oh fuck,” I cry, my hips thrusting me into her mouth. She hums, and the vibration goes straight to my balls. “Holy shit, Bentley,” I say as she reaches between my legs, kneading my balls. “Oh God.” I cry out and throw my head back. God, she’s so good at this. I can feel myself getting closer. I lift the sheet, and the sight almost has me coming on the spot. I cup her cheek, and she stops, but keeps my crown in her mouth, her tongue swirling. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re so fucking good at that, but I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
She lets me go with a pop. “No?”
“No,” I confirm. I drag her up my body and flip us so she’s on her back. “But you’ll be coming on mine,” I tell her as I slide down. I suck her clit into my mouth, and she jerks off the bed.
“Jax,” she cries, her hands going to my head, her nails digging into my scalp. Her flavour bursts across my tongue, making my mouth water.
“Fuck, darlin’,” I say, lifting my head so I can look at her. She’s already watching me, and I feel a drop of precum bead at my tip. I angle her pelvis up so I can take her without breaking eye contact, and I swear it’s the hottest moment of my life. Those twins in the spa at my first Extreme Games are a shadow compared to this moment. I take her clit in my mouth again as well as inserting two fingers inside her. She spreads her legs wider, and I suck her harder, hooking my fingers so they rub her G spot. Her mouth opens, and by the way her chest is heaving, I know she’s close. I nibble on her clit, and she throws her head back, breaking our connection, coming in a rush.
She’s still coming down when I crawl up her body. I brush her hair off her face, and am looking at her when she finally opens her eyes.
“Hi,” I say.
She gives me a shy smile. “Hi yourself.”
“Enjoy that?” I ask. She nods. “Good.” I lean down and kiss her. As I do, she wraps her legs around my waist.
“Mine,” she says, when we break apart. She shifts slightly so I’m at her opening.
“Darlin’, can I…,” I start. “I mean, I’m clean and um, yeah…,” I say, looking away.
She forces me to look at her. “You don’t want anything between us?” I nod. She bites her lip, and I swear to God if I don’t get inside her soon, wrapped or unwrapped, I’m going to be coming on my sheets. “That sounds really good,” she tells me.
“Are you….” I trail off.
She nods. “They did a full panel when I was admitted to hospital. I haven’t been with anyone since then.”
“Holy shit,” I say, gritting my teeth. I rest my forehead on her chest. “Don’t tell me I can fuck you bareback and that I’m the first guy you’ve been with since your douchebag ex. I’ve got a reputation to protect here, darlin’.”
Her chest starts bouncing up and down, and I know she’s laughing at me. “Jax, look at me.”
“No, I can’t. If I do I’ll lose it.”
“Fine, don’t look at me, just hurry up and get in me,” she says.
“That I can do,” I say, pushing inside her. She’s so hot and wet, and I swear to God, I see stars and I’m not even doing anything. It takes everything I’ve got not to come. I grip the sheets tight, my whole body tense.
“Are you okay?” she asks, rubbing my shoulders. I nod.
“Yep, totally fine,” I grit out. Meanwhile, I’m imagining anything and everything I can that will help me from majorly embarrassing myself. Finally I get myself under control, and open my eyes to find hers with a concerned look in them. “I’m fine, darlin’, you just feel so fucking good I had to get myself under control.”
“So you’re good now?” she asks.
I give her my signature sexy smirk. “I’m more than good,” I say, as I withdraw a little, then push back in.
“Oh fuck,” she says, throwing her head back. The action opens her throat to me, and I swoop on it, kissing and sucking. Her head tilts to the side, her bare skin calling to me, and the urge to mark her, to show anyone who looks at her that she’s mine, hits me. The resulting blemish is even more satisfying than I thought it would be.
“Jax,” she pants, “harder. I need you to fuck me.”
I grab her hands and hold them in one of mine, above her head. With my other hand I grip her hip, hard, hoping to leave my mark there too, and start pounding into her. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close.
“That’s it, darlin’, feel me bare inside you. How good is it?”
“So good,” she pants.
“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” I ask. She nods. “Good girl. Come for me, Bentley.” She does, and I follow right behind her. I collapse on top of her, trying to keep as much weight off her as possible, but my orgasm took a lot out of me. She pats me on my back, and I manage to pull out of her, as much as I don’t want to, and roll to the side.
I grab a few tissues from the box beside my bed and clean her up. The sight of my cum and hers leaking out of her immediately gives me the energy for round two. “God, that’s hot,” I say as I clean her up. She looks down and swipes a finger through the mess before lifting it to her mouth and sucking it. “I think I just died and went to heaven,” I tell her.
“I think I did too,” she says, cuddling up to me when I return to the head of the bed.
I palm her arse, giving it a squeeze. “That was some damn good lovin’ right there,” I tell her.
“Yeah, it was.” She smiles at me.
People, my own family, can say what they want about Bentley and me, but right here, when it’s just us, is all that matters. As much as I hate that the relationship I have with my pop is breaking down, I know I’m also building up a stronger, more significant one with Bentley. Where my pop was once my biggest supporter, now it’s her. When we met I was at my lowest, and with her help, I’ve built myself up again. Maybe sometimes we need to totally break down before we can find our way home. Looking at the now sleeping Bentley in my arms, I know, without a doubt, she’s my home.