by Kelly Myers
Lincoln stops to chat with everyone and he’s really schmoozing it up like I’ve never seen before. It’s starting to get tiring and I take a sip of my Taittinger’s Blanc de Blancs. I missed my champagne over the last few days.
I touch Lincoln’s arm and lean in to tell him I’ll be right back. I need to get away, distance myself from the crowd. I skirt around the 40-by-20-foot pool on the elegantly designed deck and move over to the railing. I lean against it and look out, taking in the clear view of downtown Los Angeles.
My heart is heavy and I can’t stop thinking about Jax. I wish he were here with me.
As if the Universe hears my thoughts, I feel someone move up beside me. The remnants of a recently-smoked cigarette make my nose tingle and I turn wanting, hoping with my whole heart, to see Jax.
But, it’s not him.
Disappointed, I take a sip of my champagne.
“You’re Easton Ross,” the twenty-something guy beside me says.
Inside, I cringe. Maybe coming here tonight was a bad idea. I’m not in the mood to mingle and I certainly don’t have the strength to smile and dazzle everyone. Nevertheless, I force a smile.
“That’s right,” I say.
“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve seen all your movies,” he gushes. “Can I get a picture?”
He’s already pulling his cell phone out for a selfie and, even though I’d rather not, I would never turn a fan away for something so simple as a picture or two-minute conversation.
“Of course,” I tell him.
I’m grateful to every person who sees my films and I’m smart enough to realize that without them, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
He lifts the camera and I smile. The flash momentarily blinds me, but I swear I catch a glimpse of Jax beside a potted palm on the other side of the pool.
“Thanks a lot,” the guy says and moves off into the crowd.
When my eyes adjust to the dim lighting again, the very tall man in the leather jacket is gone. I frown and head in that direction. If it wasn’t him then I’m seeing things. Various servers offer me food or drinks from a tray as I pass by, but I shake my head and keep moving, determined to find him.
When I reach the huge potted palm, I circle around it. Where are you?
The growing crowd is getting louder and more boisterous and music pours through speakers as a DJ now spins at the head of the pool. There’s no moon or stars visible above and the only light is from flickering tiki torches. Suddenly, a deep darkness seems to permeate the outdoor area.
My gaze scans the shadows because that’s where he’d be and he’s too tall to just blend in with everyone else.
No, my bad boy stands out. Jaxon Wilder is too striking to just fade into the background.
Suddenly, a flash of movement catches my eye and a dark-clad figure steps deeper into a dim corner, trying to stay out of view. I move fast and before he can escape, I block the alcove between the edge of the deck and the poolside terrace restaurant.
My heart pounds harder when I see it is Jax leaning against the wall, out of sight, hands stuffed in his jean pockets, a belligerent look on his cool face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask and place my hands on my hips. “I thought I fired you.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, his voice gruff. “I promised to see this through and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Because you’re a man of your word?”
“No,” he says, deep voice dropping. “Because I care about you.”
My stomach flips. What’s that supposed to mean? He cares about me like a sister? Like a client? Like a lover? All he does is send me mixed messages and I lift my hands and press my fingers to my temples, massaging them.
“What does that even mean?” I ask in a ragged whisper.
“I’m not gonna lie. I don’t do relationships, Easton. I don’t even know how. But, I can’t stay away from you.”
Suddenly, his hands are out of his pockets and wrapping around my wrists. Quicker than a flash of lightning, he pulls me into the corner with him. He spins me around, pushing me up against the wall, and slants his mouth downward.
I wrap my arms around his neck, curl my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck and kiss him back with everything I've got. Something hot and pulsing begins to throb within me just like the beat of the music that pounds all around us.
Jax lifts my leg up, running his long fingers up my thigh and then gliding around to knead the fleshy curve of my rear. He pushes his hard body into mine, grinding upward, pressing my back into the wall, and I moan into his mouth.
As his tongue mates with mine, all rational thought disappears. My slinky dress slides up high enough to reveal black lace panties and he moves his pelvis in slow circles against my wet center. It’s enough to make me feverish with longing. He’s playing dirty and I can’t resist. He’s so hard and I’m dripping for him. I feel feverish, desperate for him to drive his hard length up into me.
If we weren’t in the middle of this stupid party, I’d be tearing his clothes off.
Even though we’re out of view, back in the dark corner, anyone could walk by. I rip my mouth from his, panting hard. Dazed, I grasp his bristled jaw in between my hands and look into his black eyes. “We can’t do this here. Someone will see us.”
He lifts a hand over mine, lacing his fingers through mine, while the other one is still under my dress and starting to do very wicked things. “Let’s get a room,” he rasps.
There’s nothing more that I want, but I can’t keep doing this. That’s what my mind tells me. But, my lower body seems to have a mind all of its own. And, right now, it’s pushing up against his palm, wanting those long fingers to slip inside me, screaming for release.
I bite my lip, give a sharp nod. Jax pulls that delicious hand away and smooths my dress back down. My heels get caught up and I almost fall over, but he catches me with a self-satisfied smirk.
That arrogant look makes me pause.
Is this all just a game to him? I wonder, not liking that knowing, half-smile. If he thinks he has me wrapped around his finger then he has another thing coming. “Wait,” I say and pull back. I adjust my dress and mentally remove myself from the sultry atmosphere and throbbing beats the DJ is spinning.
If you go to a room with him right now, you’re making a huge mistake, a voice says. He’s going to break your heart into a million pieces and then walk away. Of that, I have no doubt.
He just told me that he doesn't do relationships. That he doesn’t even know how.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. “I can’t,” I say.
When he reaches for my hand, I pull it away.
“Easton?” a voice asks.
We both turn around to see Lincoln standing there. “What’re you doing back here?”
“Nothing,” I say and walk out of the steamy corner. Thank God, Lincoln didn’t walk up 30 seconds earlier. I check my hair, press my lips together and I know I look guilty as hell. I glance at Jax who stuffs his hands back into his jeans pockets and rolls back on his heels. His face is perfectly blank.
God, he knows how to turn it on and off.
It’s a little more difficult for me, though, and I’m the actor. I should be able to turn my passion on and off like a lightswitch, like I’m merely in a scene, but I can’t.
Because this is real life. My life. And, I’m still burning for him.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Lincoln whines and casts a suspicious look at Jax.
“Here I am,” I say.
His blue eyes narrow and unless he’s dumber than a box of rocks, Lincoln has to know that we were getting it on back there. An embarrassed flush heats my cheeks and I reach for Lincoln’s hand. “I need a drink,” I tell him and tug him away.
I can feel Jax’s black gaze digging into my back like knives as we walk away, but I don’t care. I almost just made a huge mistake with him and the best thing I can do is get as far away as possible. I need to regroup and, a
bove all, protect myself.
Jax Wilder is only capable of hurting me.
Maybe if I focus my attention elsewhere, it will help me forget Jax.
Lincoln is a good place to start. I don’t necessarily want to start dating him again, but tonight he will be a good distraction from the Fallen Angel who keeps trying to lure me into the shadows and debauch me.
We walk up to the bar and Lincoln gets us both champagne. He has a pouty look on his face and I know he can get moody and childish when things aren’t going his way. “Hey,” I say and lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
The sullen look fades. “I’m really glad you came. I don’t know why he’s here, though.”
I don’t answer that because I have no intention of talking about my stalker or my uncontrollable attraction to Jax. “It’s fine. Let’s just forget about him and have fun.”
That brings the light back into Lincoln’s blue eyes. “You know, I wanted to talk to you about a possible project.”
“Oh?” I ask and sip my champagne.
“Yeah. I just read this really great script and the producers offered me the lead. David Fincher is in talks to direct so you know what that means. It’s going to be dark, dark, dark. And, of course, box-office gold.”
“Fincher?” I ask. That gets my attention. I haven’t worked with him yet, but it’s on my acting bucket list. I even told Lincoln that when we were dating.
“They want me to help choose my female co-star and you’re the first person who comes to mind.”
I can’t help but smile. “Really?”
“I remember you talking about wanting to work with him one day and I think this is it. The film that will revive my career and bring us back together.”
Bring us back together? I frown as an internal alarm goes off in my brain.
“So, I’ll call Fincher myself and put in a good word for you.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I say. Ugh, I really hope Lincoln isn’t going to try and rekindle our relationship. If you can even call it that since the time we actually spent together was so limited. I’ll just have to make it clear that if we do this film together, it will be on professional terms only.
Thinking back, I barely remember being intimate with Lincoln. Half the time he was too drunk to get it up and the rest of the time we were in separate cities. All I do recall is he was fast and sloppy.
Definitely not something I want to get involved in again.
Especially after being with someone like Jax. He taught me how good sex can be and I don’t think anyone will ever be able to match the toe-curling yumminess I feel when I’m with him.
“Don’t worry,” Lincoln says. “It’ll all work out.” Then, he reaches for my hand and pulls me toward the nearby dance floor beside the DJ. I swallow the rest of my drink, leave the glass on a table and let him guide me out into the sea of moving people.
I haven’t let go like this in a long time and it feels good to just throw my head back and sway with the beat. Like I don’t have a care in the world. I push all the bad things out of my mind and move to the music.
Lincoln spins me around and I can’t help but laugh. We always had fun together and I’m glad to see he seems to be doing better, getting his life back on track.
When the music slows down and a sultry beat fills the air, Lincoln pulls me into his arms. Our bodies rock to the rhythm and I grasp his shoulders, but keep him at a distance. I don’t want this to turn into some sexy dance.
Until I see Jax watching us. His dark eyes shine with an ungodly glow from a nearby tiki torch and I feel a chill race up my spine. Arms crossed, he leans up against a pillar by the bar like an aloof, dark angel in all his damned glory.
A wrathful angel who’s about to declare the coming Apocalypse and smite me with his sword.
Well, too bad, I think. Because I certainly haven’t been happy with a lot of the callous things that he’s said and done lately.
I straighten my arms and snake them up around Lincoln’s neck, leaning into his body, moving with the music, hoping Jax is so jealous he can’t stand it. I know it’s childish, but I can’t help it.
Problem is my little scheme backfires and I instantly wish it were Jax holding me in his arms, our bodies moving to the music.
Dammit.
Why can’t I just be happy dancing with Lincoln? He’s good-looking in that boy next door way and kind of tall. Okay, not really, I think, remembering the way Jax has to lean down and curve his muscular body inward in order to kiss me.
Half of America loves Lincoln Knight and would die to have a piece of him. C’mon, Easton, relax. Live it up a little.
Suddenly, Lincoln’s hands slide down, curving over my backside, and I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. He lowers his smooth face into the curve of my neck and just before his lips can touch my skin, Lincoln is yanked away from me and completely off his feet. He flies backwards in the air, slams into other dancers and then bounces off a table, landing in a heap on the ground.
My wrathful angel hovers nearby, chest heaving, and then drags Lincoln up and slams him down against the tabletop.
30
Jax
If she seriously thinks I will just stand here and watch her rub all over that idiot, Easton Ross has another thing coming.
I don’t mean to grab him with such force. And, I really didn’t realize he was such a lightweight so that when I toss him, he fucking flies like a homerun baseball headed for the stands. I’m so furious, caught in a red haze, that I can’t see straight. I probably should’ve stopped right there, but I don’t. I grab his shirt collar, drag him up and slam him down on the tabletop that he bounced off of a moment earlier. I hear the table crack.
Shit.
While Golden Boy lays there, a stunned look on his face, Easton grabs my arm. “Stop it!” she yells.
Somewhere a camera flashes. Followed by another and then another.
Goddammit. This isn’t the kind of publicity these two want and I spin toward the flashes, ready to smash any camera I see.
“How could you do this?” she cries. She shoves her small hands against my chest, green eyes flashing. “Just go!”
“Easton-”
“Leave! I have nothing to say to you!” Then, she turns and leans over Lincoln.
“Are you okay?” she asks him. “I’m so sorry.”
I turn around, head dropping between my shoulders, and know that I just fucked up royally.
Great, just fucking great. I can’t seem to do anything right anymore when it comes to Easton.
Before I can mess things up further, I slip out a side door and find myself standing in the alley next to a dumpster. Seems pretty fitting, I think, and reach for my pack of Marlboros. I light up a cigarette, inhale deeply, expecting it to take the edge off, but that doesn’t happen.
You smell like an ashtray.
I exhale and look down at the cigarette in my hand. It doesn’t give me the satisfaction it used to so why bother? I drop it on the ground, grind it out with my heel and then toss the entire pack into the dumpster.
As of now, I officially quit.
I wonder if she is going to go home after this fiasco or go back to Lincoln’s place and spend the night comforting him?
The thought makes my stomach clench up.
Jesus, I really blew it. And, I thought I had her. When she came over and stepped into my dark corner, then into my arms, everything was right again. We were so close to going upstairs…
But, of course, Lincoln had to show up and everything went to shit.
She can’t possibly see anything in that guy, I tell myself. Can she? I probably just helped him out by tossing him around like a ragdoll because now Easton is coddling him. He has 100 percent of her attention while I stand by myself in a dark alley.
You’re an idiot, Jax. No doubt about it.
And, you certainly don’t deserve someone as amazing as Easton Ross.
31
Easton
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Unbelievable, I think.
I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that Jax just blew up in front of everyone and caused a major scene. I won’t be surprised when pictures and videos show up all over the internet in the morning.
After apologizing profusely to Quentin for disrupting his party, I sit on a bar stool and feel completely humiliated. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I grab the bar’s edge to steady myself. Strange. It must be a combination of the alcohol I consumed and stress. All I want to do is leave, but Lincoln is so busy milking the situation that I have to sit here and wait.
After getting his ass thrown around, you’d think he would want to skulk out a side door with his tail between his legs. But, no, not Lincoln. He is enjoying the attention and poor-you conversations. That’s the second ex-boyfriend of mine that Jax got physical with. Which means he’s beaten up both of the men I’ve dated.
I know the majority of the blame rests on me, though, because I purposely tried to rile him up. I knew he was watching us dance and I wanted him to get upset. To get back at him for telling me he didn’t do relationships one second and then trying to coerce me into going upstairs for a quickie the next second.
I just didn’t think he would toss poor Lincoln around like a sack of potatoes.
I should’ve known better. Jax Wilder is unpredictable and hot-headed-- a dangerous combination. Wasn’t that the main reason he was forced to resign from the police force? Because he took matters and justice into his own hands, shot three men dead and then almost died himself?
His words come back to me hard and fast: “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Easton. I’ve been trained to kill. And, I had no problem using what I learned to take out my enemies. I don’t regret it.”
Is that the kind of man I want to be with? The man I would want to spend my days and nights with? A man who could potentially be my husband and possibly father my children?
Without a doubt, I think. The thought hits me like a bolt of lightning and, God help me, but it’s the truth.