by Grey, Helen
I’d been around naked men before, no doubt about that. Had I ever had a patient as young and well-formed as Jax? No. What did that say about me? That I was so superficial that a guy’s looks would tempt me to pretty much forget about my rules, let alone the rules of the agency I worked for?
Then again, if I had sex with Jax, it wasn’t as if the situation could be construed as sexual abuse against my client. He had just as much said that he was open to it. I wasn’t exactly the victim of sexual misconduct on his part either, so I figured that neither one of us would be breaking any rules. That it was frowned upon was beside the point.
The more I sat at the kitchen table and considered, the hotter I got. The thought of Jax touching me, kissing me, exploring every aspect of my body with his tongue made me wet. My pussy started throbbing with desire and he wasn’t even in the room! Oh, to hell with it. Maybe I just needed to get him out of my system. Maybe once my curiosity was assuaged, I could focus on my job and his rehab, and not on his body, every ripple of his muscles, the sexual charisma that seem to ooze out of every pore. The fact that he ran around naked certainly wasn’t helping, and I still couldn’t determine whether he was just testing me or not.
I forgot my menu, shoved the papers away, and stood. My heart was pounding. Was I making a mistake? Most certainly. Did I care? At the moment, no. The repercussions? I had no idea, but the truth of the matter was, I wanted Jax. I had known him for a day and had never felt such a sexual desire or attraction for any man in my life. I didn’t know if it was because of his bad boy persona, his Delta Force background, or just the fact that he was so damn good looking. The plain and simple truth was that I wanted to jump his bones and feel him inside me more than I had ever desired any man.
I made my decision. I would deal with the fallout later. Well, whatever. I was on birth control pills, but before things got too far I wanted to see if he mentioned condoms. Right now, every cell in my body was strumming with anticipation and desire. I made my way slowly to his office, then stood just in front of his open door, knowing that I could change my mind. He couldn’t see me yet.
Right this minute, I hadn’t overstepped the boundaries. Right this second, I could turn around and go back to the kitchen and plan my menu like I was supposed to do. Then, taking a deep breath, I stepped into the doorway.
Jax sat, still naked, behind his desk, working on paperwork. He glanced up, put the pen down and stared at me. His eyes tore right through me; made me feel things that I had never felt before. I wanted to jump into his arms and run away at the same time. I didn’t say a word, but just stared at him with wide eyes, praying that I wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
After several seconds of silence, he slowly stood. I wasn’t terribly surprised to find that his cock already stood at attention, as if reaching out toward me.
“Come here,” he said softly.
I did.
In a matter of steps, I stood in front of him. Of its own accord, my hand reached out and grasped his cock. Warm. Solid. The veins running through it were engorged. I felt the thickness of them in my palm.
I rubbed my thumb over the tip of his head. It oozed liquid. He continued to stare down at me, then he lowered his head and kissed me. My hand left his cock and wrapped around his naked shoulders as his warm tongue stroked my lips and then delved between them, encouraging me to open my mouth. I did. His tongue darted inside, making slow, swirling circles around my own. As our tongues played tag, his hands were busy.
My blood surged and pounded through my veins. My ears rang from the sensual kiss, but then he suddenly broke off contact, reached for the bottom of my scrub top and pulled it gently over my head. Then, with deft fingers, he unfastened my bra and pulled the straps off my arms.
I didn’t feel self-conscious. My nipples were already hard, aching for his touch. The anticipation was torture. He stared down at my breasts, then up to my face, gently leaning forward to kiss me again. His lips were warm and soft, firm, and demanding, but not as if he were in any hurry. No, he seemed to be taking his own sweet time. My chest rose and fell with my excitement. Seconds later, I felt one of his huge hands cup my breast and lift it slightly, as if testing its weight.
My breast filled his palm, and then he tested the other one with his other hand. All the while his lips maintained contact with mine. Then he lowered his head and swept his tongue across the tip of my left nipple. He blew gently on it and electricity surged through me. Then his tongue traced the outside edges of my areola. I hissed, my sharp intake of breath causing him to chuckle, the sound burgeoning from deep in his chest. He repeated the process with the other nipple. I wanted to scream with passion, but clamped my lips shut, reveling in the feelings that raced through me.
My pussy throbbed with longing. He lifted his head and kissed me again, quickly, hard, filled with need. When his lips left mine, I almost protested, but while his fingers continue to tweak my nipples, his tongue traced a slow, sensual trail along my jawline and down my neck. Then, sitting on the edge of his desk, he pulled me closer.
I now stood cradled between his legs, his cock pressed against my lower abdomen. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and I moaned and arched my back, offering my breasts to him as a feast. My head tilted back as I relished the sensations that his very gifted tongue evoked inside me.
The buzzing in my ears grew louder. My hands stroked his short-cropped hair, pressing his head more closely into my breast. They began their own explorations; tracing along his muscled neck, down along his shoulders, caressing and relishing the musculature of his shoulders and biceps. One of his hands left my breast and I almost protested until I felt it slowly make its way toward my scrubs. He untied the shoe lace style string to loosen the waistline and then slid his hand underneath the waistband of my scrubs.
Oh my God, I could hardly stand it. The palm of his hand caressed my pubis and nestled in my curls. When his finger caressed my clit, I became unraveled. I was already wet, but the sensation of his finger caressing my lips down there caused more liquid to flow over them. One of his fingers slid deep inside me.
I gasped and automatically reached my hand down for his throbbing cock. While I gently stroked his thick shaft, my thumb occasionally brushing over the tip in its own wetness, his hand kept busy. His fingers stroked slowly in and out and then his thumb found my clitoris, rubbing it in slow, gentle circles. My hand tightened on his cock and I began to stroke harder.
For several moments, all I heard was the pounding of my own pulse in my ears, and then a moan. Surprised, I realized that the sound came from me. My hips began to rock against his palm of their own volition. I couldn’t stop it any more than I could stop a boulder from rolling downhill.
I maneuvered my left hand in between our bodies and cupped his balls. I squeezed gently, rolling them in my hand. They were heavy, full and taut. His lips returned to my nipples, caressing first one and then the other.
I was swept along on waves of pleasure such as I had never experienced before. His finger moved faster, and I felt my muscles clench around it. His thumb worked magic on my clitoris while his tongue did the same on my nipples. My grip on his cock tightened until I was afraid that I would hurt him, but his answering moan encouraged me. Faster.
Suddenly, I felt it building and another moan escaped my throat. I spread my legs a little wider, pressed my breast closer, harder, deeper into his mouth. The waves continued to build to a crescendo. My hips rocked, his finger dipped in and out, my pussy wet and hot and throbbing. Then I came. I threw my head back, growling low in my throat as I reached orgasm. His finger thrust deeper while I continued to stroke his cock, and seconds later, I felt hot liquid surge through my fingers as he too reached climax.
I stood frozen, stunned by the powerful orgasm I had experienced, and one evoked only with his fingers. I could only imagine how glorious it would be to experience the feeling of his huge cock deep inside me. I pushed the thought from my mind. My body felt weak, my knees wobb
ly.
He stood, grasped my shoulders, and sat me down in the chair. He quickly left the room but returned moments later with a wet washcloth. Without a word, he knelt beside the chair and washed off my hand, then swiped it over his dick. Then, he tossed the washcloth in the trash can beside the desk and smiled.
“Well, I must admit that was a bit of a surprise,” he said.
I could only stare dumbly up at him. A surprise? That was the understatement of the year. I had never felt a climax like that before. I gazed at him, at the earnest, serious expression on his face.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, and then suddenly remembered that I was topless. His gaze passed over my breasts again and my nipples immediately snapped to attention. Crap. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I crossed my hands over my breasts.
“Kind of late for that, isn’t it?” he grinned.
Nevertheless, he slowly reached down to the floor for my bra and handed it to me, and then repeated the process with my scrub top. I clutched both to my chest, as if they could form a barrier, and a flimsy one at that.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I stammered. “I’m sorry—”
“I’m not,” he said.
“Be that as it may, it won’t happen again,” I said, trying to stand. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I certainly hope not,” he said, the grin broadening.
I shook my head as I stood, clutching my bra and scrub top to my chest. “That shouldn’t have happened, Jax.” I felt guilty.
“And why not?”
He sat down in the chair I had just vacated. “Because you’re my patient, my client. You’re paying me to do a job. You’re not paying me for sex.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not. But it is a nice little perk.”
I frowned. Perk for who? Me? Most definitely. Him? It wasn’t as if he was living the life of a monk. He’d just had sex with that beautiful Swede the day before. “Be that as it may, it won’t happen again.” As I turned to leave the room, I heard him mumble.
“I certainly hope not.”
Chapter 3
The next couple of days passed without event. I got the impression that as far as Jax was concerned, the sex between us was no big deal. I, on the other hand, tingled and thrummed every time I got within a couple of feet of him. This absolutely would not do.
His wounds were healing nicely, and he had, so far, obeyed my orders not to go back into the pool, and I changed the bandage over his surgical incision every evening. Still, I felt nervous and stimulated every time he was near. Damn him to smithereens!
Over the next few days, I slowly got into a routine at his house. Most of the time, he shut himself off either in his room or in his office, so it’s not like I was bumping into him every minute. I wondered about the threats made against his squadron, but nothing seemed to be happening. Michael hadn’t come by since that first day I was here, but I could tell that Jax was still on his guard. Every morning, and several times throughout the day, and then again before it grew dark, he paced the perimeter of the house, checking windows and making sure doors were locked.
One evening, passing by his office to get to my bedroom, I noticed him sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen. I waved hello and he gestured me inside. I wasn’t sure I wanted a repeat performance behind his desk. Nevertheless, for a change, he was fully dressed, so I didn’t think that anything would happen. He looked at me and then pointed to his computer screen.
“Want to see?”
“Do I want to see what?” I asked, stepping closer to his desk and peering toward his monitor. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see a surveillance system. His computer screen was now divided into four quadrants, each of which displayed a large portion of his property; the front and the back of the house, the driveway, and the side with the garage. I hadn’t realized he had cameras mounted outside. I had never seen any indication of surveillance equipment.
“Ultra-high-tech,” he commented. “They’re nearly invisible. Clear picture huh?”
I nodded. “You haven’t noticed anybody lurking around have you?” I asked, suddenly worried. Maybe I had been too quick to brush off the warning. I then glanced down at him. “You haven’t heard of any more… accidents or anything happening to other members of your squadron, have you?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t hurt to be careful though.”
I agreed.
“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon. After I’m finished, you want to go down to the beach, hang out for a little while? Get out of here and enjoy some fresh air and feel the wind in your hair?”
I thought about it a moment and then shrugged. Why not? “Sure,” I said. “Sounds fun. Should I pack a picnic basket or something? I can make up some fried chicken and potato salad tomorrow morning before we have to go to your doctor’s appointment.”
He thought about it a moment and then nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Put a bottle of Merlot in the basket too, why don’t you?”
Before I could respond, he gazed back down at the computer screen. It seemed as if I had been effectively dismissed. I turned and left the room, confused. Why the abrupt silence?
I wasn’t sure if I should have accepted an invitation to go down to the beach with him. For sure, I should have dissuaded him from the wine because he was supposed to be on his meds. Then again, an evening away from the house on the beach and enjoying the breeze and the sight of the ocean might be a good idea, give us a chance to get to know each other a little better.
***
Because Jax wasn’t cleared to drive just yet, I drove him down to his doctor’s appointment in Brighton Beach, across the Harbor River. I waited in the lobby while he went in to see the doctor. He wasn’t in there too long, but when he emerged, he wore a scowl. I didn’t say anything while he stepped up to the receptionist’s desk, handed her a piece of paper, and was told to come back in another week.
It wasn’t until we are out of the building and back in his SUV that I asked. “What did he say?”
Jax said nothing for several moments, but I didn’t press. Obviously, Jax hadn’t agreed the physician’s assessment of his recuperation or rehab. He remained silent, still scowling as I turned back onto State Highway 78, heading back onto Hilton Head Island, trying not to smile as I heard him muttering under his breath.
Instead of turning south toward the Sea Pines Resort and his neighborhood, I headed directly eastward toward the seaward side of the island. The road meandered this way and that and I found I enjoyed the drive. The late afternoon sun cast a gorgeous glow over the golf courses, the tendrils of the Harbor River crisscrossing the area, along with numerous waterways that riddled this portion of the island.
The choices for our location for an early evening picnic were unlimited. I didn’t really pay attention to what road I was on, because no matter which one I took, I knew that sooner or later Jax would point out a good spot on the beach, which I could see from the driver’s side window.
I had driven about a mile when I finally glanced at him in impatience. “Unless you want me to pick a spot, you better choose now.” That seemed to jar him out of his grumpy musings. He glanced out his window, then mine, and then pointed.
“Turn onto Mooring Buoy and then take a left on any of the streets you want. The beaches down there are all perfectly fine.”
I followed his directions and we eventually ended up on Bass Head Beach. We’d just passed the Marriott Resort and Spa and the Omni Oceanfront Resort, along with other gorgeous properties that I could only imagine in my most outrageous dreams.
I parked the SUV in one of the resort hotel parking lots, where it tended to blend in with other guest vehicles. As he slowly climbed down from his side of the large car, I got out and then opened the rear passenger door and reached for my makeshift picnic basket.
No wicker baskets to be found in Jax’s home, which had not surprised me a bit. I had substituted by placing our foo
d into Tupperware containers that I then stacked into plastic grocery bags. I grabbed both the bags, loaded with food, wine, and paper and plastic eating utensils, including two plastic wine glasses. Last, I pulled out an old, rather threadbare blanket that I had found in one of the hall linen closets.
By the time I closed the door, Jax had ventured around to my side and held out a hand.
“Here, let me take those.”
I shook my head. “Didn’t the doctor give you a weight limit?”
He swore. “Do I look like a baby to you?”
I smiled. “Not in the least, Jax, but doctors set weight limits for a reason. Any extra pressure added to your spine might cause injury, or at the very least delay healing.” He frowned. No, that was a downright scowl. I shook my head. “Deal with it, Jax. I’ve got it. Now you do your job and find us a nice spot to have a lovely picnic dinner and enjoy the evening breeze like you promised.”
After muttering under his breath, Jax finally turned, scanned the beach, and then pointed to a spot about fifty yards to the south of the parking lot.
“That looks like a good spot.”
I gestured and he led the way, walking slowly over the mounds and dips of sand. He had picked a spot near some sand dunes. The sea grass growing on top of them and along the sides blew gently in the ocean breeze. The sound of the water rhythmically cascading onto the beach made me smile. It was amazing how close I lived to such beauty and yet I rarely got out to enjoy it. I had always loved going to the beach as a child, but I hadn’t been in years.
Jax took his time navigating the uneven sand, which I was glad to see. I knew that he was still in pain, but what level I didn’t know, and he was too stubborn to comment on it. Maybe later I’d ask, if he was in a better mood.