Dearest Series Boxed Set

by Lex Martin

  “Babe, I’m there,” I groan as I grip her hair.

  The rush powers through me, seizing every muscle and joint in my body until I’m spent and gasping for breath.

  As soon as I’m able to string together a coherent thought, I grab Dani and wrap myself around her. My face to her neck. My chest pressed to her side. My leg nestled between her thighs.

  Her fingers thread through my hair, and her contented sigh does something crazy to my heart. I close my eyes and breath in the sweet scent of apples and marvel at how she feels like my missing puzzle piece.

  I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve the blow job of my life, but when I wake up a few hours later with her body laced through mine, it pales in comparison to watching her sleep against my chest.

  How have I gone so long without recognizing how much I want this woman?

  Thirty

  - Dani -

  Who was that girl who told Jax to watch her give him a blow job? Hello? That would be the alien who took over my body and turned me into a sex-craved maniac.

  I have officially joined Jax’s army of easily accessible girls.

  When I wake up alone, the shame of what I did last night burns on my skin like hot coals.

  It’s not that I’m in any way opposed to the actions themselves, but damn, I’m not even dating Jax. I’ve never gone that far with someone I wasn’t in a serious relationship with.

  The girl who grew up watching old Madonna videos wants to embrace my sexual freedom and treat last night cavalierly, but the small part of me who someday wants the house, kids and white picket fence knows what I did last night is not how I’ll achieve those ends.

  As I stare at his side of the bed, thoughts of him naked blur behind my eyes. Everything he did, every touch, every kiss, felt so good. My skin tingles just thinking about what he did to me. And I let him know how much I enjoyed it, screaming when I came. And I’m not a screamer.

  I smack my forehead before I push my face into the pillow, beyond mortified.

  I could handle this morning if it hadn’t felt so good to wake up in the middle of the night, warm from having Jax’s body pressed to mine. I could revel all day in the way he said my name as he nuzzled against me, half asleep. My finger traces my swollen bottom lip, memories of last night making my skin hot.

  I shake my head, trying to focus.

  At least he didn’t accidentally say another girl’s name. Thank the Lord for small favors.

  A gray light filters in from the window. It’s cold, and through the crack in the dark curtains, I see the snow falling. I snuggle deeper in the blankets, realizing the sheets smell like us.

  A small ache starts building in my chest. When he drops me off at my place tomorrow, and all I have left of our time together are a few sore muscles and a couple of bruises, I’m going to need more than the painkillers the doctor gave me to deal with this pain.

  What’s worse is he’s been so great, so attentive and sweet, making us meals and finding fun stuff for us to do while we’re holed up here—the kind of behavior that’s going to make the end that much harder. Because I realize what I have with Jax comes with an expiration date. This whole thing happened because of the car accident. It’s not as though he asked me out and romanced me. He’s probably feeling the need to make it up to me. Crap. I wonder if that’s why he asked me to the banquet.

  And then my mom called…

  A humiliating thought crosses my mind. God, I hope he didn’t do last night out of pity.

  Trying to get a hold of myself, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. Damn it. I can’t even do the walk of shame properly because I’m stuck here until one of my roommates gets home tomorrow.

  I take a deep breath, resolving to play this smart.

  What happened here with Jax is going to get tucked into a fantasy file for future reference when I have a boyfriend who’s more my speed—probably something battery-operated—while I figure out how I’m going to move back to Chicago. Because, really, there’s only one person I should be thinking about right now, and it’s my mother.

  Before the tears in my eyes get to be more than I can handle, I force myself to focus on all the schoolwork I need to do before the winter holidays. So I get up, slowly putting weight on my leg, surprised that it doesn’t hurt half as much as it did the last few days. I twisted my other knee when I was younger, and the injury kept me out of gymnastics for two months due to a stretched ligament. This is nothing compared to that injury.

  If I walk slowly, I can put my full weight on it. That icing technique must have really helped. I’ll have to thank Jax for the suggestion and for helping me recuperate.

  I shuffle around the room as I pull on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before I toss my hair into a messy ponytail. Reaching into my suitcase, I grab my binder and journal, stuffing them into my messenger bag so I can get some work done.

  Slowly, I open the bedroom door and look down the hallway, which is dark. In the background, the treadmill hums.

  Relieved that I don’t have to face him yet, I limp into the kitchen where the coffee is already percolating.

  This doesn’t have to be weird. It doesn’t. I will treat Jax the way I did before we got horizontal and pretend he hasn’t seen my naked lady garden. Again.

  After I pour a cup of coffee, I take a few sips and stare out the window, wondering how the storm will affect travel back to Boston. Mesmerized by the falling snow, I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there when warm arms wrap around my waist.

  “Holy shit, Jax. You scared me.”

  He laughs softly and kisses my neck. “You looked too good to not touch.”

  My head tilts back to look at him, and he nips at my skin. Judging by my rapid pulse, getting some separation from Jax is going to be harder than I thought.

  Wait, this isn’t how the morning-after works. He’s supposed to be sullen and distant, and I’m supposed to avoid eye contact. Instead, my body responds to his, arching into him. If he pets my head right now, I think I’d meow.

  He’s sweaty, and the fading fragrance of his body wash and the scent of his skin has me wanting to devour him. Based on the enormous erection pressed into my back, he’s feeling the same way.

  “How’s your knee?” he whispers into my ear, sending goosebumps all up and down my arms.

  “Much better. I can walk. It’s still tender, but—”

  I don’t finish because he spins me around, props me up on the counter, and crushes his mouth into mine. My legs automatically fall open and he nestles tightly between my thighs.

  My hands run along his sweaty chest, feeling every hard muscle, and there are a lot of them. We kiss, our tongues tangling until we’re both panting, and he pulls away, resting his hands on the counter and lowering his head, like he’s a runner out of breath.

  “Sorry, Dani. I just want you so badly.” He inhales deeply. “I should stop or I’m going to fuck you on the kitchen table.”

  He wants me. No one has ever told me that before.

  I am an ember caught in his flame, and my reaction is visceral. I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. “Who says we should stop? We’ll call it breakfast.”

  Yeah, so much for playing it smart.

  He stands straight, and his eyes burn into me like nitrate, creating a firestorm that’s hot enough to make me ignore all the warning bells that this isn’t a good idea.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, a strain in his voice.

  All I can do is nod as my hands fist in his hair. We don’t talk, just stare as his lips find mine.

  He grips my ass and carries me to the dining table and sets me down. Now I realize how this is a better angle because he’s pressing into me so perfectly, I could almost lose it now.

  I reach down to grab the hem of my t-shirt, and he helps me yank it off so that we’re skin to skin, and when my piercings rub against his chest, my toes curl.

  Jax presses his hand against my neck as he lowers me back onto the cool surface, and his hands
run the length of my torso and back up again before they settle on my breasts. He squeezes, hard, and it’s just shy of hurting, but I love it so much I gasp.

  With a wicked grin, he lowers his mouth and pulls on a ring with his teeth, and a low, deep moan starts in the back of my throat. When he reaches for my sweatpants, he hesitates and looks up at me, so I help him push off my clothes.

  Once I am fully on display, he stops and stares, his eyes searing me. The grin on his face makes me want to cover myself, to hide, but he grabs my arms and pushes them up over my head. God, I love it when he does this, takes over.

  But he doesn’t move any closer. He just stares.

  “Jax, you’re making me self-conscious.”

  He growls. “I don’t see why. You’re fucking perfect. I could eat you for every meal.”

  I expect him to crash his lips into mine, but instead, his kiss is soft, tender, making this experience a little less about lust and a little more about emotion. Not to mention a lot more confusing. Lust and sex, I get. Emotions, not so much. Because the last thing I expect from Jax is something more, and yet that’s what’s rolling off him. It’s overwhelming and beautiful and makes me want to share every last bit of myself with him. If he weren’t pressing down on top of me, I might float away from giddiness.

  We kiss, long and sweet kisses that meld into each other as he caresses my body and brings me to the brink with just his hands.

  “More, Jax.” I hardly know what I’m saying, if I’m even speaking English, but I can’t think straight. I don’t know that I’d be able to breathe properly if breathing weren’t an involuntary action.

  He kisses me one more time. “Hold that thought.”

  The second his body leaves mine, I’m cold. I close my eyes, shivering, not allowing myself to think about how I look like a Thanksgiving turkey, on display like the main course.

  He’s back a second later. “You sure, baby?” he whispers.

  I nod furiously and the tension in his face breaks into another grin.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me up to sit on the edge of the table before he tears open the foil package. Placing the condom in my hand, he says, “You do it.”

  Um. My insides quiver. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life. I’ve only climaxed with a guy twice and both times were with Jax.

  He looks me in the eyes as he licks his lips.

  My mind is hazy, a fog. The only thing I know for sure is that I am so lost in this guy, I might never see straight again.

  I lower his workout shorts, and the part of him I’m getting to know so intimately greets me. My lips curl into a smile as I run my hands along his smooth skin, enjoying the groan that escapes his lips when I squeeze his hard length.

  I’ve never enjoyed giving blow jobs before Jax. I thought it’s just what you do, the way you offer an appetizer before dinner. But last night, I liked it. A lot. And part of me is itching to do it again, and I would except there’s something I want to do more.

  I can’t explain what he does to me, how he seems to tap into this side of me I never knew existed, but I love being this carefree, this uninhibited.

  Unrolling the condom, I try my best to not let my hands tremble as they travel along his impressive erection. After it’s on, I grip him firmly and stroke down, and he clenches his jaw.

  “Careful,” he warns, “or this won’t last long.”

  I tilt my head and smirk, loving the idea that I can make him as crazy as he’s making me.

  He kisses me, and his mouth is warm and hot, making me melt against the pressure of his hips nestled against mine. Reaching around, he pulls out my ponytail, and my hair falls down my shoulders.

  Then he lowers me down, pulls up my knees and braces them at his side.

  I brush my hair off my shoulder as he presses against me, just barely. I widen my legs, anticipation clawing in my chest.

  My heart is pounding. We’re finally going to go all the way.

  But he stills, his eyes narrowing on me.

  The sudden frown on his face makes me reach out and touch his cheek, and he flinches at my touch.

  Okay.

  “Jax, what’s wrong?”

  His head tilts to the side, and he looks me over, but the warmth that had been brimming over in his eyes is gone. He rubs his temple, like he’s deep in thought, his gaze distant.

  Trying not to freak out, I grab his forearm, and his jaw tightens.

  “Jax?”

  He swallows and shakes his head, finally looking at me. He opens his mouth just as the front door slams open.

  Voices just a few feet away have me scrambling off the table. Holy shit. I’m buck naked.

  I stumble behind Jax who yanks up his shorts.

  “Jax, I brought you a gift. Two, actually. Remember Isabelle from this summer? She wants to be your snow bunny and—” Nick comes around the corner, his eyes widening when he sees us. He holds out his hands. “Shit, sorry, dude.”

  The sound of girls giggling behind him makes me nauseous. Nick turns around and disappears behind the partition in the entryway. I hear him mumble while I step back from Jax and limp into his bedroom a few feet away. Shutting the door behind me, I feel tears brim in my eyes.

  Oh my God. What am I doing?

  My hands shake as I cover my face. I nearly had sex with Clementine’s brother on his kitchen table.

  And Jax is acting so weird all of a sudden, like we’re strangers, like we haven’t spent the last several days together.

  I fight to keep the tears back and take a deep breath, trying to calm the maelstrom of emotions whipping around inside my chest.

  Realizing I’m still standing here naked, I reach for my suitcase and throw on a t-shirt and jeans. It takes a while to get the pants on, but I’m hoping the level of difficulty to get clothed helps them stay on longer.

  I keep waiting for Jax to walk in so we can talk, but after twenty minutes, my heart sinks. I may not be the best at relationships, but I know enough to realize that him staying out there means something.

  After an hour, a fucking hour, he waltzes in, still shirtless. I’m sitting in a leather recliner by the window, trying to look like I’m doing homework.

  He barely glances at me as he mumbles that he’s going to take a shower. Another twenty minutes later, he walks out and says he’s taking Isabelle home.

  And then he leaves without another glance in my direction.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  Thirty-One

  - Dani -

  Even though I’m starving, I don’t poke my head out of Jax’s room until well after two in the afternoon. He’s been gone for hours.

  His condo is quiet, so I tiptoe into the kitchen, finding myself in almost the same position I was in this morning. Except this time I know Jax isn’t going to wrap his arms around me.

  Fighting the urge to cry, I grab an apple off the counter before I spread out some of my textbooks on the kitchen table.

  I hate that I have to sit here at the scene of the crime, but I don’t want to get ink on his bedspread. Ignoring the burn in my cheeks, I reach for my journal and pull out my watercolor markers before I begin to sketch.

  Using broad strokes, I draw the first thing that comes to mind: Jax and me together, on the couch, in the shower, on the bed. A tangle of arms and legs, hands urgent and demanding. Nudes aren’t my strength, but I don’t know how to get the images out of my head.

  Drawing until my hand hurts, I finally take a break.

  I may be able to limp around, but I can’t go home because I’ll never make it up four flights of stairs by myself.

  After Jax left, I tried calling seven motels. Everything is booked through the weekend, so unless I want to sleep on the street corner in the middle of a snowstorm, I’m stuck here. My only hope is that Travis will get back early this evening and be able to pick me up. I grab my phone, and my mood gets a little darker when my thumb reveals no new messages.

  Jax left with her. We almost had sex, and he left with
another woman. Again!

  #Unbelievable

  My face heats up and my eyes water. I don’t know what happened. One minute he was calling me baby and was sweet and loving, and the next he was making for the door like his life depended on it.

  Unless…

  The nausea I’ve been fighting all afternoon burns in the back of my throat.

  Did he remember his birthday? The club?

  Surely that couldn’t have freaked him out so much he took off like an Olympic sprinter. There were so many times this week I almost told him what happened that night, but I’ve been afraid it would change our dynamic. That he’d see me differently. That it would ruin the friendship we’d been building.

  A door creaks open from down the hall. Padded steps echo closer.

  I turn my head slowly, my heart paralyzed.

  Nick stands with his hands in the pockets of his jeans looking uncomfortable. “Hey, Dani. I’m so sorry about what happened earlier.” His big brown eyes are warm, and the sympathy in his expression twists something in my gut.

  Grateful he’s not being a jerk, I smile weakly. “It’s totally okay. I’m sorry I have to crash here. I tried calling hotels but—”

  “No, you don’t need to leave. I’m cool. My roommate nearly made you roadkill. Putting you up for a few days is the least he can do.” Nick’s eyes dart around the empty apartment. “Where is he anyway?”

  A cold laugh escapes me. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m guessing it’s somewhere with Isabelle.” My eyes dart down to my journal, my face burning in humiliation.

  “Shit.” An awkward silence spreads between us while I doodle circles in my journal. “I’m sorry about that too.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t be. It’s not like I’m not well aware of his reputation. I’m the idiot in this equation.”

  Nick clears his throat. “Listen, my little sister is coming over in a bit. We were going to order a pizza and catch the Celtics before the BC game. Wanna join us?”

  His kindness is too much. I nod slowly. “Who are the Celtics playing?”