by Kelly Myers
“You’re the fucking problem,” a lethal voice says from the base of the stairs.
I turn and see Jax. I never even heard him come down. His dark eyes blaze like hellfire and his hands are bunched into fists.
“Get lost,” Daniel tells him as though he’s swatting a fly away.
Big mistake.
In three long strides, Jax is in his face, yanking him up by his collar until he’s on his tiptoes. “I think it’s time you leave,” he says between gritted teeth.
Daniel shoves away, face red and spluttering. “Yeah, or what?” he asks, mustering up some bravado.
“Or, I’ll make you,” Jax threatens.
“Go ahead and try. Lay your filthy hands on me again and I’ll sue your ass so fast-”
Bam! Before I even realize what’s happening, Jax slams a fist into Daniel’s jaw and he spins halfway around with the force of the blow.
Oh, my God, I think. I take a step forward, gaze swinging from Jax over to Daniel who holds a hand against the side of his swelling face.
“You’re going to regret that,” he spits out and then whimpers at the pain.
“I’m just getting started,” Jax says and takes a step forward.
I jump in between them, press a hand to Jax’s heaving chest. “Don’t,” I plead. His black gaze snaps back to me and he gives a sharp nod.
I turn back to Daniel. “Just leave, Daniel,” I say in a weary voice.
He shakes his head in disgust as he walks past us. “You two deserve each other,” he grumbles.
The moment the words are out of his mouth, Jax fakes a lunge and Daniel jumps away, picks up his pace and hustles out of my room and down the hallway. A moment later, I hear the front door slam so hard the whole house shakes.
“Are you okay?” Jax asks. Concern laces his deep voice and I turn toward him
The ferocity in his gaze is gone and, instead, I see his chocolate brown eyes melting into a deep caramel. I blink, my attention sliding down his high cheekbone, along his scruffy angular jaw to his lips.
And, my heart begins to thump as a pool of heat gathers between my legs.
No one ever stood up for me like that before. Jax is my protector and I don’t think twice before launching myself against his hard body. His arms lift instantly and wrap around me as I push up and plunder his mouth.
Our tongues collide and fence with each other, and I press the length of my body eagerly into his. I want to feel every hard angle and muscle, I think, and undulate my hips against his thickening erection. He groans into my mouth, slides his hands under my rear and lifts me.
I wrap my legs around his middle as he carries me over to the bed, devouring my mouth with deep, wet kisses. One hand slides though his mussed-up hair and I run my other palm through the bristle on his jaw. When he moves to set me on the bed, I unwrap my legs and stand on the edge so I can still be eye level with his tall frame. I grasp the edge of his shirt and yank it up with more force than I intend.
It rips and his broad chest rumbles with a deep chuckle. “Take it easy, Princess,” he says and then leans in and begins kissing my neck in a way that makes my toes curl. “I’ll let you take my clothes off. But, only if I can take yours off, too.”
I feel my cheeks flame and I let out a shaky breath as he ever-so-slowly slides the zipper of my dress down my back. Then, as it gapes open, he dips his head and swirls his tongue across the tops of my breasts.
I strain forward, grab the silver chain and medal that hangs around his neck in one hand and dig my fingers into his bare shoulder until I leave crescent moon marks with the other. God, I want this man. I swoon when I feel his hands loosen the belt around my waist and then everything just sort of slides off me. I kick the dress away and feel him pull back, his passion-glazed eyes soaking in every inch of me from the lace strapless bra down my stomach to the matching panties.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, gliding his large hands up my hips, over my quivering stomach and then rounding over my black bra. “I’m going to devour you,” he warns, slipping his hands inside the lace cups, beginning to knead my breasts.
“Not if I devour you first,” I say and push further into his hands, my nipples tightening into hard, little beads. The heat turns up in his gaze and he pauses, watching my fingertips trail over the tattoo on the left side of his chest. Further down, I notice several scars on his right side. Small circular wounds. I can’t help but think they look like bullet holes and my heart tightens.
It’s not time to ask him so I focus on the incredible artwork covering his toned pectorals. The top of a decorative cross that morphs into a skull swirled through with tendrils of smoke. It’s black and white with shades of gray like his other tattoos and makes him look dangerous. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” I say and lean in to run my tongue over the ink.
I feel him shudder as I flick my tongue against his flat nipple. My hands slide down his corded abs and reach for the button on his jeans. He juts his slim hips forward, letting me do what I want, and I unzip. As I slide his jeans down to the floor, I lower myself, too, until my knees hit the mattress.
Eye to eye with the front of his boxer briefs, I swallow hard, press my red lips together. Wow, I think. Impressive.
He kicks the denim away and comes down to my level, pushing me back onto the bed, and stretching his long body over mine. The silver chain around his neck dangles above me as he props himself up on an elbow. He sinks his other hand into my hair, tilting my face upward for a steamy kiss. When his pelvis grinds against the lacey center between my legs, I whimper and arch up.
He’s making me so wet I could die.
I’m lost in a haze of passion so when the glass breaks it takes me a moment to register what’s happening. Jax’s head snaps up. Then, he’s jumping off the bed, swiping his gun off the nightstand and moving fast and low to the patio doors.
I jerk up, pulling the sheet up around me.
“Stay down,” Jax warns. He unlocks the back doors, stepping around glass, and disappears outside.
A panic swells within me and I slip off the bed. A brick lays on the floor, something white held to it by a rubber band.
We never reset the alarm after Daniel stormed out, I realize. Because I threw myself at Jax. I strain to see out onto the dim patio and a couple of minutes later, he reappears. He reaches down and scoops up the brick.
“Careful,” I say, as he steps around glass shards.
He rips the piece of paper free and unfolds it. A dark look settles over his handsome face.
“What’s it say?” I ask.
He looks up and I see a muscle tighten in his jaw. Then, he reads the ominous words. “Oops. Missed you today on set. Guess I’ll have to try again. Sweet dreams, Easton.”
The air whooshes from my lungs and I feel faint. I sway and then Jax lifts me into his arms. Tears burn my eyes and I begin to cry. “Who’s doing this?” I ask, holding onto him for dear life.
“I don’t know, but I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he says, cradling me against his smooth, bare chest. “I promise,” he whispers and places a kiss on the top of my head.
18
Jax
I lay Easton in bed, pull the covers up to her chin and slip on my jeans and boots. “Stay put,” I say and press a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’m going to do a sweep around the house. See if I can find anything.”
“Hurry,” she says.
With a nod, I check my Glock and stride out. Things have taken a turn for the worse and I feel a niggling panic. The same way I felt right before Madison died.
Stop it, I tell myself. This is a completely different situation and you have it under control. Easton is safe, under your protection and nothing is going to hurt her.
Then, why do I feel like I’m missing something?
I open the front door, step out into the night and search for any sign of the intruder who to
ssed the brick through the patio door. Whoever it was got into the yard or at least up to its edge, I think, a sinking sensation in my stomach. I make my way around the side of the house and walk along the hedges looking for any sign of footprints.
Nothing.
At the edge of the hillside, the hedges are lower and I can see right onto the patio and into Easton’s bedroom. I kneel down and notice broken branches. Whoever threw the brick, entered here and must’ve snuck onto the patio and walked up closer to make sure they hit their target.
I sigh then stand up and head back inside.
I can’t set the alarm because the glass door is shattered. So, instead, I hang an extra sheet over the gaping hole while Easton, now in her silky nightgown, sweeps up the broken glass.
“You don’t think whoever it is will come back tonight, do you?” she asks.
I hear the worry in her voice and shake my head. “No, not tonight. But, if they do, they’ll have to go through me.”
I take her hand and guide her back over to the bed. “Don’t worry. I’m going to be here with you all night.”
She slides into the bed and I draw the sheet up. She captures my hand when I start to pull it away. “You aren’t coming to bed?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I say, my voice full of regret. I squeeze her hand and then she tucks it under her chin and watches as I grab a nearby chair and drag it around between her bed and the broken glass door.
I sit down, Glock resting on my thigh, and look over to see her watching me. “Go to sleep, Princess,” I tell her. “You’re safe.”
It would be so easy to crawl back in bed with her, but I can’t. I said I didn’t think the culprit would return, and I don’t believe he will, but I can’t be caught off guard again. Her life depends on my vigilance.
And, after the fight with Daniel, she’s in a vulnerable position. I’m not going to take advantage of that. We have time, I tell myself, gaze sliding over her curves beneath the sheet. No woman ever fit me so well. And, I’m not just talking about the physical.
Yes, her body molds to mine perfectly. But, so does her personality. Suddenly, as I watch her falling asleep, I want to know everything about Easton Ross. Where she’s from, how she became an actress, what makes her laugh, where and who her family is, everything that she loves. I want to hear all about her dreams, hopes, plans and desires.
Especially her desires because I plan to fulfill every last one.
I can’t believe I’m getting hard again. Just thinking about what we did earlier makes me want to wake her up and finish what we started.
Christ. The way she threw herself on me leaves no doubt in my mind that she wants it as badly as I do. I can still picture those red lips moving across my chest, tracing the ink engraved there. I clench my fists and feel a slight ache along my right knuckles where I hit Daniel.
But, the ache in my pants hurts more.
Maybe tomorrow night we can pick up where we left off.
God, I hope so or I may die of blue balls.
I sit up the rest of the night, keeping watch and nothing more happens. Eventually, I lay the gun down on the floor, stretch my long legs out and briefly rest my eyes. I’m still hyper alert, though, and ready to move at the first suspicious noise.
Unfortunately, this god-awful, dainty chair is not made for a man who’s pushing 6’4” and I feel a shooting ache through my back.
I grunt in pain, stand up and stretch my sore limbs. Easton’s eyes flutter open and a soft smile curves her mouth. “Come here,” she says in a sleep-soft voice.
It’s been a long night and I feel confident that I can take a well-earned break in Easton’s arms without any imminent threat. I slide my jeans off and get under the toasty covers with her. My arms wrap around her waist and drag her back against the wall of my chest, curving her body to mine. I nuzzle my face down into her jasmine-scented hair and breathe deeply. “You smell so good,” I whisper.
“I like how you smell, too. Even though you smoke,” she adds.
“I just quit,” I tell her. I take her earlobe in my mouth, run my tongue along its edge. “Buy me some nicotine gum?”
“Whatever you want, Jax,” she says sleepily.
For the next half an hour, I just hold her in my arms. And, nothing has ever felt so right. Every time I sleep with a woman, I never sleep. I have sex and then I leave. Or, I make it clear that I want her to leave if we’re at my place.
I don’t cuddle and I certainly don’t spoon.
At least I didn’t until now.
Until Easton.
I don’t know what kind of spell she’s cast over me, but I’m into her. Big time. And, for a bad boy like me, it’s really new and a little scary.
Other than my Mom and Madison, there’s no other woman I’ve loved.
Love? Fuck.
The word terrifies me just a little. Shit, I haven’t even slept with her yet. I mean, I’m in bed with her, but once we have sex and, God willing, that’ll be tonight, maybe this overwhelming, all-consuming need for her will go away.
Or, at least lessen.
I hope so. But, a part of me wonders.
I feel Easton turn in my arms and place a kiss on my lips. “I have to get up,” she whispers. “My trainer will be here in 15 minutes.”
I realize that I dozed off for a bit and it’s now 6 am. She slips out of bed and pads off to the bathroom. I turn onto my back and stretch, enjoying the silkiness of her sheets and the lingering smell of jasmine.
I could spend the rest of my life in her bed, I think, with a content smile.
When she comes back out, I prop myself on an elbow and watch her pull some workout clothes from a drawer. She turns and catches me staring. “What?” she asks.
“Nothing. Just watching you,” I answer, my voice husky.
She bites her lip and her cheeks flush. I can tell she’s debating whether to get dressed in front of me or go back in the bathroom and do it. I lift a brow, on the edge of my seat.
To my sincere disappointment, she goes back into the bathroom. With a chuckle, I fall back onto the fluffy pillow. She sure wasn’t this modest last night, I think.
While Easton works out, I call a local glass company and expedite a work order for a new pane of glass for the door. Then, I put a call in to Logan Sharpe. I tell him about the brick and threatening note.
“What can we do about it?” I ask.
“I can post guards at the house. That should help deter any future incidents.”
“Appreciate it,” I say.
We talk for a few minutes more and then hang up. I need some coffee and a cigarette. But, if I remember right, I think I quit smoking after Easton made a comment about not liking smoke.
Well, no cigarette then, I think and pull on my t-shirt. I look down and see the tear in the side and can’t help but smile. Tonight, I plan to rip some clothes off her.
I stroll down to the kitchen and make a cup of black coffee. As I lift the mug and take a much-needed sip, hip against the counter, Easton and Liv walk in, discussing her schedule. They both turn to look at me at the same time and I get a wary feeling. Like they’re up to something.
“Good morning,” Liv says, and heads over to the fridge to pour her and Easton some fresh orange juice.
Easton sashays over and sits down on a stool near me. She gives me a devastating smile and a part of me melts. Before I can ask what’s up, they start chatting about a movie premiere and after-party happening tonight.
“Have you ever been to a premiere, Jax?” Liv asks.
“What?” I pull my gaze from Easton. “Uh, no.”
“You should go tonight. They’re really fun. And, the after-party is over at that new club down the street.”
“I’m going wherever Easton’s going,” I say. “To keep an eye on things,” I add.
“You could go as her date,” Liv says nonchalantly. Then, she heads out quicker than I’ve ever seen her move. “I’m off to pick that stuff up for later,” she adds just before she d
isappears from view.
Her date? I look over and Easton blushes.
“They sent me an extra ticket,” she explains. “And, since you’re going to be there, anyway, you may as well be by side and not hanging back in the shadows.”
“Sure,” I answer slowly. “I mean, if you want.”
“I’d like it very much,” she says and my heart stutters within my chest.
Getting ready to go to an event with Easton Ross in no laughing matter. Her entourage arrives by two o’clock that afternoon and the movie doesn’t even start until seven. While they start to work on her, she tells me to go up and take a shower.
I hop in the guest bedroom shower and lather up. Ten minutes later, I slip my same worn jeans and ripped t-shirt back on. I should probably get back to my apartment soon and grab some fresh clothing. I look down and, though I wear the torn t-shirt like a badge of honor, I don’t think it’ll be appropriate for tonight’s premiere.
Not knowing what I should wear, I head back down to the great room where Micah works on Easton’s already stunning face and Sylvie styles her hair. They all glance my way and I shift, uncomfortable under all the scrutiny.
“I think the Armani,” Easton says.
“Really?” Sylvie asks. “Not the Givenchy?”
“No, his legs are too long.”
“And, I don’t think he can pull off the ankle-length look,” Micah adds.
“No, definitely not,” Easton says with a warm laugh.
“I’m glad you find my long legs amusing,” I say.
“I’m going to have Donna who has my wardrobe for tonight bring a suit over for you to wear. You can just get ready here and that way you don’t have to worry about going home.”
That’s good, I think, because I don’t think I even have a suit.
After Sylvie finishes pinning Easton’s hair, she turns to me and pats the stool. “Your turn.”
I make a face. “I’m fine.”
“Just let her blowdry your hair, Jax,” Easton coaxes with a smile.