Jax: Black Angels MC, #3

by Fisher, A. E.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped, feeling the words hit me hard in the chest. “Are you friend-zoning me?”

  “No!” Jax snapped. “I’m not friend-zoning you, Ronnie.”

  “You totally are!” I gasped, trying to jerk my hands back, but he grasped them tight. “You regret everything about our night together! That’s why you didn’t have sex with me again! That’s why we deescalated. You wanted to let me off easy. You wanted to—”

  The taste of dry dirt and hay hit my tongue and my voice was smothered. I tried to scream and bite, and even resorted to licking the palm pressed against my lips in an attempt to get free, but Jax didn’t retreat. He held tight to my face, not letting another word escape.

  “Goddammit, Ronnie, will you let me speak for once?” His impatience came through, and my body stilled. Frustration rolled off him in waves, and he gave me a hard glare, making my fight relent against him. Not all the way but just enough for him to give him chance to speak again. “I’m not friend-zoning you. I’m trying to tell you the exact opposite if you’d let me get a word in.”

  The opposite of friend-zoning… that meant…

  Oh.

  Jax must have read some clarity in my eyes, because his hand softened against my face, giving me one last hard look. “I’m going to let you go, okay?” Jax warned. “But you’re not to say a word until I’m done. Understand?”

  Waiting until I gave a nod, he let me go, the smothering scent of his hands replaced by the refreshing, humid breath of air. I opened my mouth, and Jax fixed me with a sharp glare.

  I shut my mouth.

  “When I said I wanted to be friends with you, I meant that my request was genuine. I did want to fix my relationship with you. But as much as I pretended that it was just friends I wanted, that it was just to have the same relationship with you that I had in the past, I couldn’t ignore the truth. I didn’t just want friendship from you, Ronnie. I wanted more.” Jax paused, reaching once more for the hands on my lap as he brought them into his own. His finger rubbed over the back of my hands, the motion repetitive and soothing. “I was a dick about it, I know. I wanted to believe it was only physical from you. Even after that night I got shot. But I wasn’t ready to accept that. But I was even less ready to tell you that and hurt you. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you. I wasn’t ready to accept whatever it was between us. I could see it in your eyes. See it in mine when I looked in the mirror. But I didn’t want to give you false hope. I didn’t want to hurt you if it wasn’t real.”

  “That’s why you kept putting off our talk….”

  Jax nodded.

  “And in the barn, I couldn’t stand you being in pain. I couldn’t stand that you were hurt in the past. That I was so cruel to you despite how fragile you had become. I was mean and a dick, and I wish I could go back and punch myself in the face for how I acted, but I can’t. And I knew that night what I was feeling for you wasn’t just friendship. I accepted it then. But you were hurt and then you wore Mint’s jacket and I was jealous and—”

  “Just a jacket made you jealous?” I scoffed, unable to help myself. “It’s just a piece of material.”

  “Wearing a guy’s name on your back is not a little thing, Ronnie,” Jax growled, causing my heart to stop. He fixed me with such an intense glare that it was like being transported straight back to that night when he had seen Mint’s jacket on my back, and Mint had immediately taken a step back from him and offered an apology. Looks like that jacket did mean a lot more to him that I understood.

  “But you made me wear your jacket…,” I whispered, remember feeling the weight of the leather that night and in the morning. It’s warmth and creases and scent of oil and beer marked me with his scent so well that he might as well have peed on my leg. From what he just told me, it looked like it was the same thing.

  “Because you’re my girl, Ronnie.” Jax released my hand as he reached up to touch my face. The length of his palm cupping my cheek, sending tingling warmth across my face and down to my chest where my heart had upgraded from a nervousness to a heavy ba-dum. The movie kind of heart throbbing that made my free hand clutch to his, unsure whether to push it away to get rid of that feeling or hold it closer and cling to the moment.

  “You’re kidding.”

  Jax shook his head. “You asked me if I ever regretted leaving?”

  I asked him that the night of the barn, but…

  ” You said you didn’t.”

  “And I still don’t.”

  “But—”

  “But.” Jax cut me off, eyes darting across my face, reading me like an open book, which was currently being scribbled all over in black marker. I couldn’t make sense of where he was leading me, and I was sure he could see that.

  “There is one thing I regret.” Jax gave me a sad shrug, tilting his head to one side, a breath paused on his lips. He took a moment, eyes looking into mine, not looking away, not letting me go. and then he spoke. “I don’t regret leaving,” he whispered. “But I regret leaving you behind.”

  My heart stopped. Tears welled in my eyes. The world began spinning.

  I just stared at him shaking my head.

  “You’re lying,” I breathed, my voice wobbling to my surprise. The longer he looked into my eyes, head shaking at my question the more I felt that deep hope, the hope I had buried a long time ago.

  It couldn’t happen. He couldn’t regret leaving me. He couldn’t feel that way. Not now. Not after all this time.

  This was a moment I had only dreamed of since I had set my eyes on him. My love for him from child to adult had only grown, even when apart. Hearing him tell me this kind of thing….

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Then I’m dreaming,” I persisted, feeling the resilience I had held onto all this time, knowing, being certain, that Jax had been hurt when I didn’t go with him but didn’t regret leaving me behind.

  “Crying,” Jax whispered, a contained smile breaking out on his face as his thumb brushed away a wet tear I hadn’t even known fell. “But not dreaming.”

  The throb that choked out of my closed throat had my chest aching with that long-forgotten bruise as I threatened to collapse on top of him. “You really want to be with me?”

  “I do.”

  “Really? Truly?”

  Jax smiled, leaning in close to my face. “Really truly.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his other hand pulling mine up close to his face and pressing the softest, gentlest kiss to my fingers.

  “If you’ll forgive me for being such a dick, all this time,” Jax whispered, the slight tremor in his own voice slipping through. “Then I want you to be with me. I want you to give me a try.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Jax mimicked, the word haven come out of my mouth so quickly that not even I realized I had said it. But it didn’t change my answer. In fact, it only solidified it as all the resistance, the fight to accept that this was reality, that this was really happening came out in that one single, gushing answer.

  I want to be with him.

  “Okay!” I yelled, jumping with a surge of energy into his chest, arms going around his neck. My force sent both of us flying backward and off the edge of the bales. The floor met us hard on the other side, and the wind was knocked out of both our chests.

  For a moment, we laid there gasping, my head buried on his chest, his arm tight around my back.

  “Jesus, Ronnie,” Jax groaned.

  I pushed myself up from his chest, my hair falling like a curtain around us as I looked down at him.

  “I want to be your girl,” I whispered. “I love you, Jax.”

  Jax. Not Jackson.

  Jax smiled. A full, boyish, glowing smile breaking across his face and the sight of it made my heart swell.

  “Then let’s get started.” Jax grinned, his body shoving up at a moment’s notice, hand coming around my back and flipping me. I was on my back and he was on top of me.

  Then he kissed me.

  H
e kissed me softly and gently and full of a passion that melted me under his touch, taking all of him in, and hoping that I could give him even a fraction of that passion as I held onto him and returned the favor.

  After years of hoping, dreaming, and pain, I had gotten what I had always wanted.

  The man I loved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jax

  “I can’t do it,” Ronnie whispered. My heart throbbed.

  “You can,” I tried to encourage her, but the crestfallen expression on her face had already taken hold. Her self-confidence had plummeted, and I knew that the past had yet to be completely rewritten, but to write it off so quick would be an act of suicide.

  One I couldn’t let happen.

  “I don’t want to push.” Ronnie shook her head, green eyes dark and muted as she looked up at the huge figure in front of her. “I’m not ready.”

  “You’ve been ready for a long time, Ronnie.” I pressed my hand to her lower back, my eyes steady. “We’ll do it after three. Ready?”

  “Jax, I—”

  “One…,” I called, watching her hands grip tighter, eyes looking to me for reassurance. “Two...”

  “Jax…,” she whined.

  “Three!” I yelled, giving her a push as she jumped from the ground, her other leg swinging in a high arc through the air until her body came down on the leather saddle with a cushioned thump.

  Max stiffened at the weight thrust down upon her. Her breathing hitched on her chest, and she stared down hard at the grass. She took in a deep breath, Ronnie and I staring at her with such intense stares as we waited for reaction.

  Maybe it’s too early? Did I push her too quick? Did I—

  Max gave a loud huff in annoyance but allowed the rider to settle on the smooth ridge of her back.

  Looks like I worried for nothing.

  “I did it,” she breathed. “She let me on her back!”

  Ronnie’s squealing voice startled Max just a little, but it was enough to still the big mare. Ronnie noted it too and with a small, shy gasp, she said, “Baby steps,” reaching out a hand for support.

  She found my shoulder under her palm and my hands went around the soft flesh of her waist. She swung her hips toward me, and in a single, smooth motion she slid down the side of the horse onto the ground.

  “Good girl.” I smirked, her brown hair flopping loose from her pony tail.

  “I’m not a dog.” She scowled, her hands going for the loose skin of my bicep.

  I caught her before she could do damage and watched her glossed lips puff into a pout on her face. Her eyes didn’t look at me but at the hand around her arm. She didn’t tug it loose. She just stared at it. As if waiting… I wondered what for?

  Just kidding.

  I tugged her forward until her chest crashed into mine. My face dipped as hers looked up to mine in surprise, exposing what I desired. I caught her gasp as I took her lips and fulfilled her need in a quick, swift gesture.

  When our mouths parted, tasting the faint strawberry balm she put on earlier, I licked my lips to secure the sweet taste.

  “What was that for?” she whispered, her own hand going to her moist lips like a sweet virgin having her first taste of a man. It was the expression I saw any time I kissed her sweetly. My gentle side seemed to bring out her innocent side, and her tomboy façade faded from the girl who lacked experience.

  While I didn’t know her past, I knew she wasn’t a virgin, but when it came to a real man, I had been with enough women to know she was ignorant in the face of one.

  “I wanted to.” I shrugged. “If I can do it, why shouldn’t I?”

  “You’re so full of yourself.” Ronnie rolled her eyes, huffing her hair away from her face. She tugged loose and I let her go. There was no need to fight a woman who had no intention of escaping me.

  This one was mine. Not borrowed. Not temporary. She was permanent. And most importantly, she belonged to me alone.

  “Stop it,” Ronnie grumbled, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts. I was staring at her, and it wasn’t a surprised she noticed my intense glare.

  “Why should I?”

  “Jeez, were you always this obnoxious to the girls you’ve dated?” she tutted, busying herself with untacking Max’s reins. The beast was nibbling on the side of her hair as Ronnie ducked under her neck to fiddle with the straps around her chest.

  “I’ve never dated any girl.”

  “Never?” Ronnie gasped, her head popping out from Max’s shoulder like a mutated growth. Even Max, at the sound of Ronnie’s voice, whipped her head to stare at me. Both of their eyes stared me down with surprise and an unjustified amount of disbelief.

  “Why is that so surprising to you?” I grumbled, feeling offended.

  “Well, I just… I mean.” Ronnie fumbled, eyes going everywhere but my face.

  “That I’m a man-whore?”

  Sure, I’d had one-night stands, long weekend sex parties, and the occasional fuck buddy, I wouldn’t deny it. But the truth was that there hadn’t been a girl to keep my attention long enough for me to become attached. Girls had been like water slipping through my fingers. I hadn’t cared to hold onto them and never felt bad when they left. Girls came and went like the tide. That was just the way it was for me.

  Until Ronnie. She was like a dog pawing at my feet for years, begging to belong to me. To wear my tag around her neck and be at my side at every moment.

  I bet Ronnie would look nice with a collar on.

  Or even a leash.

  I tugged at the rope around my shoulder, fingers running along the coarse knots, my mind calming with the motion.

  “So, you’ve never even been on a date?” Ronnie shook her head, my words still rebounding off that rock-solid head of hers. “What about those girls in high school?”

  “They were in it for the sex. Nothing like a ride on the hottest cowboy to make you feel more mature.”

  “Ew. Gross.” Ronnie shook her head, tucking herself back around Max’s front as the leather straps came loose. She went around to her other side to unbuckle her saddle and pull up her stirrups.

  “You’re not mad at me for it, are you?” I frowned, picking up my feet and going around the front of Max until I was around her side, watching her unfasten the belts with concentration.

  “Mad at you?” Ronnie glanced up at me. “No, I’m not mad. I’ve known you’ve been a huge flirt since you walked out the womb, Jax. I figured that’d be the one thing that wouldn’t change with you.” A smirk pricked at the corners of her lips, and yet I felt like I was standing on shaky ground.

  I’d seen so many brothers meet the wrath of their old ladies for their past with women. Especially the club whores. Many civilian girls couldn’t handle that kind of club life, and the men would end up punished because of it. I never understood it.

  But, fuck, I could understand why they would get on their knees and apologize for that shit. I felt the unease creeping up my chest, waiting for her to lash out at me for it, and I was ready to drop to my knees and surrender just to appease her. But lying about my history with women wouldn’t sit well with me either. It was the way it was. I didn’t feel guilty about it whatsoever. I just didn’t want Ronnie to be mad at me for it. I didn’t want her to be hurt by it like I knew the other women had been.

  “Ronnie, baby, about the—”

  “If you’re about to apologize, don’t bother, Jax.” Ronnie turned, her hands propping up on her hips, fixing me with a glare.

  “Ro—”

  “Jax,” Ronnie growled, taking a step into my space.

  That dirt was sure looking nice about now. Maybe I should just get it over with and get down there. Maybe if I—

  It was so quick that I almost missed the soft, swift kiss against my lips. I stared at the green eyes looking up into mine.

  “That’s what you get for trying to apologize.” Ronnie smirked, shaking her head at me. Her hands gripped the lapels of my shirt, anchoring me tight against her chest
. “I know exactly who you are, Jax. You don’t have to apologize for being you. Whether it’s the violence or the sex or whatever hell else you do. I won’t pretend it doesn’t exist. I won’t turn a blind eye. And I certainly won’t live in a fantasy world where you’re a perfect man. You’re just Jax, and sex with lots of people was a part of your past. That’s just how it is. And I’m okay with accepting that.”

  “Holy shit…,” I breathed. Was this woman for real?

  “What?” Ronnie frowned, tilting her small, oval face in confusion.

  “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

  “You’re so soppy.” Ronnie cringed, sticking her tongue out at me.

  I didn’t pass up the offer as I descended on her lips. Tasting the sweet flesh between my teeth, I delved deeper into her mouth. That sweet strawberry taste burst across my tongue, and if I were a cat, I would have fucking purred. Instead, my hand buried into the wild, nest of hair attached to her head. I tugged on the mess, demanding more access until her quiet moan tugged at my concentration. I broke apart for a moment, looking into her glazed eyes focused solely on mine. “I’m only this way for you,” I confessed.

  I had never said anything sweet to any girl before. Except for the club women who were more like an annoying band of sisters, I never paid this much attention to any one woman alone.

  Ronnie didn’t smile or blink. She did one better.

  Her hands pulled tighter on my shirt and my head jerked toward hers. “Kiss me,” she breathed, her breath rolling over my damp lips.

  Don’t have to ask me twice.

  I dived back down for her, and she pushed her hips into mine, her crotch grinding against my own hardening area. I growled, tugging her hair harder, wanting, demanding more.