Wicked Girl

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Wicked Girl Page 9

by Piper Lawson


  “Track record. He’s conservative, has turned out a lot of big albums.”

  “Least we got the go ahead on the EP.”

  It’s a small win, but it doesn’t feel like it.

  I wave to Derek’s admin, who’s packing up for the day. Her gaze flicks from me to Jax.

  “Do you think Todd knows?” I venture as we make our way down the hall to my office.

  Jax’s expression darkens. “What? That I fucked you senseless in your office Tuesday night?”

  I flinch, hoping to hell no one overheard. “Yeah, that.”

  “How would he? I was on my best behaviour in that meeting. Which, come to think of it, is getting old.”

  He holds the door to my office for me and I duck through.

  I’m barely inside when he spins me around, pressing my back against the wall. I’m breathless before his hips pin mine in place.

  “Come for dinner,” Jax murmurs.

  The offer he’s making with his body feels very different than dinner. “And then?”

  “And then I’ll make you come so hard your toes cramp for a week.” He flashes me a boyish smile that has my knees going weak. “Unless you’re busy.”

  “I am meeting someone shortly.”

  Jax’s eyes flash.

  The jealousy shouldn’t make me happy.

  But hey. No one’s perfect.

  I slip out from between him and the wall and circle my desk, dropping into the chair. “He’s kind of amazing. He has blue eyes and blue hair—”

  “Tyler.” He shakes his head. “What the hell is it with that kid? He’s got Annie wrapped around his finger too. I never should’ve let her do this after school thing… ah well. What do you say?”

  My hesitation elicits a frown.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you,” I start, “it’s just… we need to focus on this album. And we said this was an ending…”

  “Right.”

  “…And I don’t want to get attached. If you’re trying to sleep with me—”

  “I’m totally trying to sleep with you.” His bluntness doesn’t make him any easier to turn down. Not when he’s standing so close and wearing that T-shirt that pulls tight over his body and those jeans that fit every part of his lean legs to perfection. “But I also want to spend time with you. I’m not asking for forever. I want to show you I fucked up. That the way we ended things isn’t the way I wanted them to end. I’m not that guy, Hales.”

  My heart’s issuing a warning, but he’s being so reasonable, it’s hard to argue in my head.

  When the three of us go out for dinner, Annie picks some vegan place, and over cashew cream bowls, she babbles all about her time in the studio.

  “The best part is that no one tells you what to do or not do,” she goes on, her eyes flicking between her food, Jax, and me like a laser pointer. “I’ve never seen so many guitars before.” She shoots me a look. “Hey, Haley. What would happen if one of them got broken? Not me,” she protests at her father’s rough intake of breath. “I’m just saying.”

  “Those instruments cost thousands of dollars,” he states.

  Her eyes widen. “No one’s done anything on purpose. But you might want to look at the guitars.”

  I groan inwardly. If something needs repairs, it’s going to come from my pocket.

  The reality is, things happen from time to time. They’re kids. Things break.

  “It’s fine, Annie.”

  She blows out a breath, relieved. “But it’s not Tyler,” she adds. “Tyler’s super careful. And he knows everything.”

  Jax groans. “I’m sure he doesn’t know everything.”

  “He does. He’s so talented. Don’t you think so, Haley?”

  “He’s pretty talented.”

  Jax shoots me a look, and when Annie goes back to her food, I can’t resist winking at him. Damn, it’s cute watching him dad. He was always loving with her, but now there’s this extra protectiveness that he’s comfortable with, like familiar clothes.

  I didn’t expect it to be this attractive.

  When I’d learned I was pregnant, a lot of emotions had washed over me. Denial. Terror.

  Eventually, possibility.

  Some small part of me had hoped that it might be a reason for us to figure things out.

  Which I know now was naïve.

  Before the miscarriage, I’d come round to the idea of being a single mom. I had enough to provide for two between my earnings working with Carter and my inheritance.

  When it happened, I hadn’t expected the pang of loss, the mourning. But there it was. It took months before I got my head on straight.

  Now, seeing Jax with Annie? It’s like all the emotions, all the possibilities, rush back.

  “You guys gang up on me,” Jax murmurs when Annie goes to the bathroom, taking a long drink of water.

  I find a smile. “It’s girl talk.”

  “Girl talk. You mean about boys.”

  I snort. “Newsflash. Girls talk about things other than the opposite sex. We talk about dreams. Fears. Failures. The future. Things guys never talk about.”

  He turns that over. “Sounds scary.”

  “The alternative scares me more. That you can spend all the time without talking about it.” I take a sip of my drink. “‘You can live a hundred years without really living a minute’.”

  “More Kierkegaard?”

  I love that he remembers. “Close. Gilmore Girls.” He laughs. “My mom and I used to watch it. I have a feeling Annie would like it too.”

  “Hales?” Jax’s expression shifts and there’s an intensity that steals my breath. “Sometimes guys think about those things.”

  My hand tightens on the water glass, the icy sweat making my grip slippier, because suddenly I’m thinking about those things with him.

  We have more in common now than ever, given my work at Wicked, and I love talking with him, hanging out with him.

  But even though I’d probably survive having my heart broken by Jax a second time, I’m not ready to line up for it.

  I finish my food and set down my fork. “You ever talk to Grace?”

  “We’re on the outs since I won custody. Annie sees her on holidays. Every few weeks in between. Though my sister wasn’t thrilled with the idea of us coming to Philly for a couple of months.”

  “She must miss Annie so much. It’s too bad you guys couldn’t come to an agreement.”

  He cuts a piece of his food, eats it. “The judge is checking in in a year. If Grace’s situation has stabilized…” he trails off.

  “There’s still a chance the arrangement could change?”

  He shifts. “There’s always a chance things could change.”

  And there it is. No matter how much we control life, there will always be uncertainty.

  Annie returns, dropping into her chair. “Are you coming over, Haley? You can. It’s totally fine.” Her intelligent eyes focus on me.

  I glance toward Jax, but he’s grabbed the bill. He’s busy paying it, or acting as if he’s not listening.

  Annie leans in. “If it helps, my dad never has people over.”

  He blinks at her a moment before dissolving into a huge grin that has my chest squeezing.

  “Okay,” I agree. “For a little while.”

  We drive back to his place together and go up the elevator.

  “It’s after ten and a school night. Bedtime, squirt.”

  She salutes with an eye roll and closes her door.

  “You’ve raised quite the kid.”

  “Before tonight, I can’t remember her calling me her dad.”

  “Really?” A bubble of emotion rises up in my chest.

  “Yeah.” He goes to the kitchen and pours two bourbons. He passes one to me. “Remember the first time we drank this together? Because I sure do.”

  Jax’s knowing look has me squirming. “I think I stripped in your foyer. It was mortifying.”

  “You had me the second I opened
the door,” he says, solemn.

  “You still owe me. I always feel vulnerable in front of you.”

  Jax cocks his head, considering. Then he reaches for my phone on the counter.

  My breath catches even before he hooks a finger in the waist of my skirt. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  He tugs me into his bedroom. It’s not so different from the one in Dallas, but it’s more homey looking. Like someone picked out the individual elements. But the décor is the last thing on my mind when he scrolls through my phone and puts on a song.

  My eyes widen.

  “I was holding that for a friend,” I protest as the opening chords of “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll” play.

  “Uh-huh.” He points at the end of the bed. “Sit.”

  I do.

  He takes two steps back, his gaze locked with mine. I have no idea what’s happening and I’m about to ask when his next movement stuns me silent.

  Jax Jamieson reaches for the hem of his shirt.

  And, with a wicked gleam in his eye, he strips.

  I don’t know if it’s the sight of his abs or the bourbon coursing through me that’s responsible for the wave of light-headedness.

  Maybe both.

  I dissolve into laughter, trying to keep my voice down since Annie’s across the hall.

  He peels the shirt over his head and tosses it at me. I catch it. “Pretty soon I’m going to have more of your clothes than you do,” I murmur.

  Jax winks at me. “I don’t think so, babysitter.”

  I couldn’t have pictured Jax from two years ago doing this. He took himself way too seriously.

  I’m cracking up and so turned on at the same time, and I had no idea before this moment that was even possible.

  I lean back, content to watch the show.

  When his hands go to the button of his jeans, I swallow.

  He works the button free. Then the zipper.

  “You slowed down,” I complain, breathy.

  “It’s called a striptease for a reason, Hales.” But his warm voice is tinged with roughness too, as if he likes watching me watch him.

  I try and fail to hold in the moan as he works his pants off and steps closer to me.

  “What’s wrong,” he prods, the smug grin never leaving his face.

  My gaze tries to take all of him in. His broad chest, hard shoulders, rippling abs, muscled legs. The outline of his obvious erection through his shorts.

  “How are you still so fucking hot,” I mumble.

  Some of the smugness fades as he bends over, pressing a scorching kiss on my startled mouth.

  “You want to do the honors?” he asks when he pulls back, glancing at his shorts.

  “I feel like I need dollar bills.”

  “Hales,” Jax says evenly, “I’m a zillionaire. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  He’s ridiculous, and I love it. Handsome and playful and totally irresistible. I love how his hair falls over his face. How he smells, tastes. The feel of his skin, smooth over muscles, under my hands.

  I pull down the waistband an inch at a time.

  He’s hard and thick and perfect and eye level, and my mouth waters just looking at him.

  “Can I tell you something?” I whisper.

  “What.”

  “I never blew anyone before you.”

  The humor falls away, replaced with heat and something else. “Seriously?”

  I shake my head. “I mean, I’ve watched people do it in porn. Even read up on how to do it, in case I wanted to someday.” I flush. “But I never wanted to before.”

  “You’re telling me you lost your oral virginity out of spite?”

  “Yes. And it was totally worth it.”

  I reach for his cock, shifting forward because all I want is to lick him but he pushes me back on the bed.

  “That’s not how this works.”

  “No?” I prop myself up on my elbows, breathless and turned on and a little exasperated at being denied. “Fine. Go on and mansplain it to me, Jax.”

  But my irritation doesn’t bother him a bit. He reaches for my skirt, and I’m glad it’s stretchy because he manages to strip it down my hips without lifting me off the bed. My shirt comes next.

  Jax’s gaze darkens with appreciation as he takes in the soft pink lace-covered bra and panties.

  “How this works is you lie on that bed and let me worship you.”

  Okay, well that doesn’t sound terrible.

  Even though he says it like it’s way more than sex.

  Especially since he does.

  Jax drops to his knees, and my exhale trembles through my lips.

  “The first time we did this,” he says, his voice a rasp, “I told you the value of my songs.” I swallow the laugh at the memory. “It’s not my go-to line, but man, it got you wet.”

  His grin fades and I realize that even on his knees, he’s no less strong, no less compelling. I would do anything he asked.

  “Should’ve known then you’d choose Wicked over me.”

  The moment of seriousness has me swallowing. “I wanted you both. I wanted it all.” I reach toward him, running a hand through his hair.

  His breath is warm on my stomach as he closes in. “What if you could have it all? Not for forever,” he says before I can protest that it’s impossible. “For now.”

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past two years, it’s that life takes you on a ride. You need to fight for what you believe in, but you also need to be prepared to have it all ripped away at any second.

  My hands fist in the comforter because I know I’m not going to stop him tonight. I want to give him everything he wants.

  “Okay,” I whisper, and I swear his eyes change color. “What are you waiting for, Jax Jamieson? Rock my fucking world.”

  He tugs my panties down and I lift my hips, his amber gaze never leaving mine.

  His mouth drops. He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh and I shiver.

  Then he licks a fiery line from my core up over my clit.

  I grab his hair on an ugly noise that’s half moan, half protest.

  Because shit, that’s intense. It’s as if he’s inside me in a whole new way, and I can’t hide anything from him like this.

  I’m so tempted to stop him.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my slick skin.

  I force myself to relax my hold and squeeze my eyes shut.

  Every inch of me’s feeling his lips, his tongue. The way he plays me as if I’m his instrument and he’s the best in the world.

  After a minute, it’s starting to feel good.

  “OhmigodJaaax…”

  The comforter scratches my bare back and I arch to get away from it, closer to him.

  When his fingers join in, pressing deep inside me, I think I hit the ceiling.

  Jax pulls back to shift up my body. “I love how you taste,” he murmurs. “I can’t believe I’ve been without it my whole life.” Then he kisses me, and I taste myself. It shouldn’t be so hot, but it is.

  When he drops back down my body, his lips, his tongue, his hands, work together in such beautiful concert I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but exist in complete and utter awe of him and the way he makes me feel.

  He drags me up the cliff, to the edge. When I’m hovering on it, gasping, grabbing at his hair, he waits a long moment, as if to imprint in my mind the fact that he brought me there.

  Then he shoves me off it.

  I bite my cheek to keep from screaming as wave after wave of pure sensation tears through me.

  Jax’s real magic is that he blows my mind utterly, completely, then the next second he makes me forget there’s ever been any other way.

  As I struggle to catch my breath, winded and wrecked and staring at the dimmed overhead light, I wonder if that was his plan all along.

  15

  “Is that real?” Tyler hefts the Grammy, weighing it.

  “It’s
papier-mâché.”

  The door opens, and Haley sticks her head into the conference room. “You’re late for your interview—whoa. What’s going on?”

  I glance around the room, which is lined with glass cases and awards.

  “Show and tell. Light some fires under some asses. I figured there was enough memorabilia at Wicked, but Annie wanted to do it. So I had some stuff packed up and shipped here.”

  Haley looks around the room in amazement at the stacks of instruments, photos, and awards covering the long table and arranged around the outside of the room. “Wow. I’m surprised you wanted to dust all this off. I thought it might bring back bad memories.”

  I shrug. “Not a big deal. The kids are having fun.”

  Annie’s showing some of my old costumes to the other kids.

  “Can I put this on?” Tyler holds up the logo T-shirt and a pair of leather pants from my first tour.

  “The jacket, sure. Not the pants. That’s crossing a line.” I turn back to Haley. “You gonna bust me for taking a break, boss?”

  “I guess not.”

  I steer her to the back corner of the room. Chords start up as one of the kids grabs my guitar.

  Her eyes fly wide. “Is that your—”

  “It’s just my old Telecaster, it’s fine.” I take in her expression. “But something’s wrong.”

  “It’s this interview you’re doing. I didn’t expect you to have to go through the media circus to make this album.”

  I brush a thumb over her cheek.

  “You know I’ve been doing these since you were Annie’s age.”

  Haley sighs out a breath. “I know.”

  But it’s cute that she’s worried about me.

  A lot of things she does are cute. The ones that aren’t are either frustrating—like when she argues with me over a track, or the lunch order, or whether I can touch her when we’re both bent over the soundboard together—or completely intoxicating.

  Three nights ago, we went for dinner with Annie. Haley came over after.

  And stayed over.

  It wasn’t just sex, though holy shit was that insane. The things she let me do to her, the things she wanted to do to me… on paper I’ve done it all before but it’s never been like that.

  It’s never meant that.

  I knew it while I was getting her off with my tongue, feeling her body tight everywhere. When I was stroking inside her, our sweat mingling, telling myself to hold out for one more minute so I could see her fall apart.

 

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