“I’ll only tell you this one time, Harm,” he says back. “Never underestimate me.”
“Well, I won’t underestimate that tongue, that’s for sure,” I answer.
Jax smirks and bites his lower lip as he stares at me. Chills roll through me, and I feel a little bit like he’s the Big Bad Wolf and I’m the one who’s about to get eaten.
“Relax, Harm,” he growls as he repositions himself between my legs. I lie flat on my back while he takes both of my legs in his hands and spreads them apart, kneeling in between them. Inadvertently, the tip of his cock lands on my clit and a soft moan escapes me.
“Oh, but Jax . . .”
His eyes roll back in his head as his tip again glazes my clit.
“We’re not doing this yet,” Jax growls, his voice resolute. But with the way he’s rubbing his tip over my slick opening, my resolve is wearing down.
“I know,” I say through a haze of pleasure as I reach my hands back, wishing I could grasp onto a pillow, an anchor, anything.
But there’s nothing above me, just flat rock, so all I can do is arch my hips up into the hot, hard, hot flesh of his cock.
Wanting him, needing him more than I’ve ever needed anyone.
Pulling my hips up farther, he runs his tip up and down my opening.
“Stop teasing me,” I beg. “That’s not fair.”
“But it feels so damn good to tease you, Harm,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
I bite my lip, dropping my eyes to his abdomen and the rest of his gorgeous body. Jax is the definition of masculine power with his hard demeanor, big muscles—and big everything—and this makes his gentleness so surprising. He’s like a big bear you know could tear you apart, but doesn’t.
The edges of where Jax’s touch ends and I begin blur, and I exhale a hard breath of pleasure.
Through my fog of desire, Jax’s question lingers, something no one else has asked me and really meant.
What do you want, Harmony?
I want Jax. The voice seeps into my mind, a soft whisper.
Reaching forward, I grasp the side of his leg to feel him jutting back and forth, teasing me more than I thought was possible. Part of me wants him inside me so bad.
To feel him let loose. To wreck me and tear me apart like the wild man I know lives inside him.
Pleasure spills through my core at the thought of feeling him fully inside me. Lifting my hips into him, we find a rhythm as he runs his flesh over me.
“Jax,” I moan. “I do want this. I want to feel you inside me . . . soon. But I’m not ready yet.”
His gaze falls back to me as I brace myself for his response.
“I know, Harm,” he says.
“You do?”
He nods. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you sing like this.”
He moves down to drag his tongue across the delicate flesh of my thigh. As he backs up and stands in the water, which is thigh high for him, I lift my hips to his lips.
Wrapping my hands around my head for a makeshift pillow, I push my pelvis into him as he licks my opening.
“Jax,” I moan, and he pauses.
“That’s it, Harm. Practice your singing voice for me,” he says, his tone playful.
Another wave of pleasure rips through me as he presses his fingers inside me, and I can’t help but let out a loud yelp.
Curling his fingers up into a spot that drives me crazy, he lifts his mouth off me again.
“No one can hear you scream out here, you know,” he utters.
My breath becomes shallower, and I can barely manage a coherent response. “So does that mean you really are a serial killer, like you said?”
Furrowing his brow, he laughs.
“No. But I think I might become your personal serial pussy eater if you always taste this good.”
“Dear God,” I mutter, breathless. The echoes of my moans are lost to the birds and the running water of the creek.
My senses blur into one another and I lose control, rocking into Jax as I ride him to another orgasm.
Threading my hand through his hair, I lower my hips as he brings his mouth away from my center.
We stay like that for a minute or more, Jax standing in the water, towering over me as I lie on the black rock.
The last glints of purple-red sunlight filter through the trees.
Jax clears his throat. “We’d better get going. It’s late.”
I glance between his legs, my eyes widening. “You sure?” I ask.
“It’s gonna be pitch black in a few minutes. Come on.”
Helping me up, we walk over to our clothes.
I watch, a little astonished, as he pulls his jeans over a massive erection, but I don’t say anything.
I open my mouth to try to articulate what I’m thinking, but nothing comes out. Maybe I’m still lightheaded, the blood drained from my brain and flooding other parts of me.
We get on the bike and ride off. I feel a tightness in my stomach as I wrap my arms around Jax’s abdomen, the heat of the night and my desire for him shaking me to my very foundations.
16
Jax
The fresh night air whips by us, and I feel an eerie calm come over me as Harmony digs her fingers into my waist.
Her head presses against my back, and she doesn’t ask me where we’re heading.
She trusts me. She knows me—the full story. And she trusts me.
I can feel her heart pounding against my back. Slowing at a stop sign, I check both ways before I pass the intersection.
As I pull through, the realization hits me that I’ve never been a stop-sign stopper.
But I have precious cargo now.
I clear my throat and turn my face back toward her. “You hungry?” I ask.
“Starving,” she answers.
“Well, how about a little home cooking?”
She squints, and then her eyes go wide. “Do you mean . . .”
“Yes, I do. Chef Jax at your service.”
“What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Chef’s special,” I joke.
A few minutes later, I turn off the usual route to the town center.
“Is this the route to your house?” she asks. I nod, slowing as we head down the last few residential blocks before my house.
I turn down Foster Street, and my mouth runs dry as we pull up in front of the place. I gauge Harmony’s reaction. “This is it,” I say, following her eyes as they land on the twenty-four-foot mobile home. “This is where I grew up,” I say steadily.
I stiffen as I follow her line of sight. Clenching and unclenching my fists, a wave of regret crashes through me. I shouldn’t be showing her this. I should have lied. Brought her back to the bar. Or back to her house.
But the smallest of voices whispers back to me that I’ve committed to tell her the truth about myself, and that’s what I’m going to do.
No matter how much my cheeks burn. No matter the shame in my stomach. No matter my inability to meet Harmony’s eyes.
She turns to me, bright-eyed. “So where’s the grill? Or are we cooking inside?”
Harmony’s cheery smile melts my thoughts to mush. Her moans replay in my mind. On that black rock—the hottest moment of my life. She even sings melodies when she’s coming. Melodies of pleasure.
I smirk at my own personal joke.
Harmony tilts her head. “Jax. You okay? I’m dying of hunger. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and . . . well, you really worked up my appetite.”
I shake away the demons. “Right this way to my humble abode,” I say, opening the door. She heads in first. Peeking inside, I see that no one is home.
“Grandparents must be out tonight. Saturday is their date night.”
She squints. “Date night? How old are they?”
“In their sixties.”
“My parents don’t even go on date night,” she says.
I shrug as I open the refrigerator and pull out a portion of fresh salmon. “I wish their date n
ight would have rubbed off on my parents.”
She looks around the inside of the mobile home.
“It’s small, but comfortable,” I say. “We’ve got a lounge area, the small kitchenette and dining spot, my grandparents’ room, and where I sleep.”
I tip my chin to the area above the driver’s swivel seat.
“This is . . . cozy,” she says as she sits.
“It is. My grandparents always wanted a mobile home when I was younger.” I laugh. “They’ve never used it to go anywhere yet, though.”
She giggles, but her eyes grow distant and she brings them up toward me.
“You’re a very interesting man, Jax. Once I think I have you figured out, I realize that’s not even remotely true.”
“Let’s head outside,” I say, deflecting her observation. “That’s where the grill is. And it’s cooler out there at night. Bring two wine glasses, will you?”
She nods and takes the glasses. I grab a cold bottle of sauvignon blanc, the salmon, and plates.
Out on the brick patio, Harmony opens the wine and I make a honey glaze for the fish. She grabs lettuce and tomatoes from our garden out back for the salad. I cheat and heat up mashed potatoes, but other than that the meal is totally fresh.
“When I was growing up, I didn’t have much,” I say. “As you can see. But we did eat well, and I’m thankful for that.”
Harmony takes a long sip of her wine. “God, that’s good.”
“Perfect for a hot summer night.”
“You really love cooking for people, don’t you?” she says, tilting her head and watching me as I chop lettuce.
I shrug. “I guess I do. When I was in high school, I used to cook for my sister and my grandparents. They had an interesting life philosophy, looking back now. As poor as we were, they could always find an extra dollar in the food budget, which I appreciated. As out of control as my life felt sometimes, I could always trust we’d have a solid dinner when I got home.”
She smiles and puts her hand on my forearm. “Is that why you decided to become a cook? Because you always had good associations with cooking and making people happy?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and chuckle. “Never even made that connection, to be honest. But I guess you’re right.”
I pull her into me for a kiss. “You’re damn smart, Vanderbilt. Too smart for your own good.”
“Maybe,” she says slyly.
I turn on the radio to one of my favorite stations.
As the grill heats up, I wipe sweat away from my brow and decide to take off my shirt.
“If you don’t mind.” I wink at Harmony.
She bites her lip. “Well, if you’re gonna take off the shirt, you might as well take off the jeans. Just sayin’.”
I take off my shirt and wipe away sweat. “As your personal chef, your wish is my command.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. But this isn’t my third wish, Mr. Genie.”
Laughter spills out of me. “You’re not going to forget that, are you?”
“No. I’m going to use my third wish when you least expect it.” She winks.
I slip out of my boots and jeans.
“There. How’s that?”
She stares, and then steps to me. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get too hot while you’re manning the grill.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Best way I can repay you. You’re looking out for me.”
“True.”
Opening, the grill, I flip the salmon, and then I turn back to Harmony.
She twirls a lock of her hair as she stares at me, her head tilted to the side.
“What’s your deal?” she asks.
I scoff. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Okay, let me spell it out for you,” she says, hand on her hip. She finishes the rest of her wine and then fills it up again. “An hour ago we were on a rock. In the middle of a creek. You made my toes curl like I’ve never felt before. You went down on me twice, but just when I was ready to do you, you said it was time to leave. What gives?”
I swallow a lump of nervousness. “It was dark,” I choke out.
“Bullshit,” she says, and I feel the blood rushing under my skin. “You’ve been there later at night and you know it. It’s your special spot. You’re telling me you never came there in the moonlight?”
She takes a step toward me. “What’s up? Just tell me.”
I take a gulp of wine and set the glass back on the table. “I don’t like people touching me. It’s just . . . it’s been a while.”
She squints. “Jax, you’re twenty-four years old. Clearly, you are a healthy male. Is there something wrong with me? Just tell me, and tell me now. I trust you, but you’ve got to be up-front with me.”
Taking a deep breath, I swallow the rest of my wine, and then I open up the grill and take the salmon off, my heart thumping.
Putting a portion of fish on both of our plates, I look her in the eye.
“You’re right. I acted weird. Have a seat,” I say.
She sits, and I can see the worry written on her face.
“You asked me if prison changed me. I said yes and no. I tried to focus on the good when I was there. There was no other choice but to get tough or die. So I worked out a lot and started freaking out when anyone touched me. Especially in that . . . region.”
She leans on her elbow, her expression turning from worried to curious.
“For sixteen months, I didn’t let anyone touch me in any way. Out of necessity. But once I was out, it became a habit. I’ve hugged my grandparents but no one else.”
“What about the ride you gave me the first time?” she asks.
“That was different.” I shrug. “You needed help. And you were on the back of my bike before I could even think about it.”
“Oh. So I’m . . . the first person you’ve touched other than your grandparents?”
I nod.
“Wow. Just wow. Coulda fooled me. You rocked my world. Literally. We were on a rock.”
She wiggles her eyebrows, and I toss my head back in laughter. “Again, I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just acted and responded to your sounds. And your taste.”
“Stop it, Jax,” she breathes. “You’re going to make me dizzy again just thinking about that rock. And I’m really hungry.” Her eyes flit to the honey-glazed salmon we’re waiting to dig into.
She stands up and puts her hand on my abs. “Thank you for telling me that . . . I feel better now knowing.” A grin spreads across her face. “You really are one of a kind, aren’t you? A man who doesn’t like blow jobs.”
“I didn’t say I don’t like them,” I blurt out.
She squints. “You’re confusing me.”
Her hand slides a few inches down my abdomen. Blood rushes between my legs, and I feel my cock start to throb, flinching in my briefs.
She notices. “Is it weird that the fact that you’re not letting me touch it makes me want to touch it more?” she asks in a whisper. “But I won’t touch it if you’re not ready.” She looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Unless you want me to.”
“I want you to. But it’s just been a while. What if . . .” I trail off.
“What if what? Tell me.”
I lick my lips as my body heats from the inside. “It’s been a while. What if it’s not working properly?”
She laughs, and then stops abruptly. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just . . .”
Pulling my briefs down, my cock pops out.
“You have very nice equipment, chef.” She wraps her hand around the base and I let out a soft groan. “And I’m no doctor, but this feels as hard as that rock in the middle of the creek. Maybe harder.”
“Your hand feels good like that,” I mutter.
She whispers back as she runs her hand slowly up and down. “Mr. Chef, I’m very hungry. And your equipment seems like it’s in order. Mind if I go for an appetizer?”
“Please,�
� I growl. “Fuck, Harmony. I want to feel you so bad.”
“So let me feel you,” she murmurs as she strokes my cock, and then she flits her eyes back up at me. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I mutter, the word coming out before I even have the chance to think.
“Then let me do this,” she purrs.
“All right, Harm,” I say. “Yes.”
Pulling a cushion off one of the chairs, she kneels on it and kisses my tip.
My skin tingles from my toes to my head, bolts of pleasure shooting through my body.
The block I’ve had for years melts away as she licks up and down the sides of my shaft.
Still gripping me at the base, she pauses and looks up with a soft, gentle smile.
The truth is, for the past year, I sometimes wondered if I would ever be with a woman again. Not that I was exactly exhausting all my options, but I figured I was too much of a beast and a screwup for a woman’s love.
Harmony licks her lips and kisses the very tip of my cock, making my toes curl.
“I can be gentle,” she whispers, stealing one last glance at me. “But I can be rough too.” She smirks, and then she wraps her lips around me, bobbing her head up and down.
“Help me with this?” she asks, arching an eyebrow and gathering her hair.
“Well, when you ask so politely, how can I not?” I smirk, fisting her long hair into a makeshift ponytail.
“Perfect,” she moans, before taking me deeper and adding her free hand to my cock.
“What the—”
My mind floats away to never-never land, and the earth shakes so deeply under my feet that I’ve got to hold on to her ponytail for balance. Flexing my calves, I rock my hips in rhythm with her mouth.
Eyes fluttering, knees weak, heat pooling in my core, I let go.
Harmony is gentle and caring even in the most intimate of acts. Twisting both hands on the base of my cock, she fires pleasure up my spine with her hot mouth.
Pulling away for a moment, she takes a deep breath.
“Looks like you got my equipment up and running,” I growl, a smile hinting at the corners of my lips.
“Oh, really?” Precum is smudged on her face, and she smiles. “I couldn’t tell from how rock hard your big cock is.” She smiles and sticks her arms straight up. “I’m getting a little hot. Help me out here?”
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