by Lily Cahill
Tiff sucked him hard, pulled him deep, but Jax tugged himself free.
“Ride me,” he panted, practically begging. “That’s all I’ve been able to think about all night.”
Tiff was only too eager to comply. Her body felt alive and electric—goose bumps shivering over her naked skin and her heart pumping so hard, so fast. She peeled off her pants and climbed up his body, standing on her knees over his cock. The head teased at her wet pussy, rubbed against her clit as she positioned herself.
Tiff stared at Jax, drew the moment out, the wonderful anticipation before the sensation. Jax’s lips were parted, the muscles in his neck straining. Finally, he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. She sank deep, his cock sliding into her. She gasped with the feel of him, of the way she had to stretch to fit all of him. God, it was perfect and just the right side of painful. The most delicious pain she’d ever experienced.
Using just her legs, Tiff pulled up, and Jax’s cock dragged against the walls of her slick opening. She plunged down again, finding a rhythm, gaining speed. At the apex of each thrust, he hit just the right spot. A spot so tender Tiff had to squeeze tight to keep from coming all at once.
Tiff’s breasts bounced, her hips rocked, her thighs pumped up and down over Jax’s cock, fucking their way into oblivion. Tiff closed her eyes and threw her head back, keening with every powerful drive of Jax inside of her.
She was there, right there. God, she was going to come. Her whole body tensed, seized up.
And then she was moving. Jax had sat up and wrapped his thick arms around her and spun them so he was on top of her, driving into her with mounting speed. His arms were planted on either side of her head, and her legs were thrown over his shoulders. He thrust deeper, so deep, deeper than she’d thought possible until they bodies were fused together. And Tiff let loose a primal scream.
She came, long and hard. Wave after wave roared through her, her body going taut and every sensation magnified. She flung her arms out to scratch into the dirt and arched into the feeling of utter completion. Jax roared and spilled himself into her, then they went limp. He dropped to her side, and they curled into each other, limbs entwined, bodies still attached in the most intimate way.
Tiff sighed in bliss, and she could have sworn she heard the sky sigh back.
Chapter Fifteen
Tiff
TIFF AWOKE TO THE SMELL of bacon. She stretched long like a cat in her bed and blinked against the warm sunshine spilling past her bedroom window.
It’d been an orange-streaked dawn when Jax had finally dropped Tiff at home. Her body was wonderfully sore from last night. Tiff curled onto her side and smiled against her pillow at the memory of it. Of all the ways Jax had taken her. She’d come more in that one night than she thought possible.
And now she was hungry. Famished. Tiff pulled on jeans, threw her hair into a topknot, and followed her nose.
“She awakens,” her father said, looking over the top of his morning newspaper. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”
Tiff grabbed a cup of coffee and stole a piece of cooling bacon, scooting out of Tyler’s way when he slapped at her hand. “It was late.”
“I’m pretty sure it was early,” Tyler said, still bent over the stove.
Tiff bit back a smile and plopped into a chair across from her father. She sipped at her coffee and stared around the kitchen. Jax had hinted at her joining him on the last bit of the tour, then they’d figure out what came next. Whatever it was, it probably meant leaving New Scandia. Tiff’s heart twisted a bit at that. This had been her home her entire life—even when she went away to Madison for college, she still came back on breaks and on some weekends when her laundry had become a disaster. But now …. Now she was most likely leaving for good. Tiff had agreed to meet Jax in an hour at the coffee shop to talk.
Tiff’s dad cleared his throat. He was tall and strong like Tiff, but blond-haired and blue-eyed where she was darker. He dropped his paper and leaned forward on his elbows. Tiff had always loved seeing her dad in uniform, it had always made her feel special, like her dad was important. And he was, but not just because he was a sheriff’s deputy, but because he was her dad. Tiff sniffled a bit and had to blink back a sudden sheen in her eyes.
“I think I better meet this young man,” Dean Anderson said solemnly.
Tiff looked up and grinned. “Yeah, I think you probably should.”
Her dad raised an eyebrow. Then he leaned back as Tyler slid scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon onto the table. “My girl, leaving us for a rockstar.”
“He’s more than that, Dad.”
Dean took his time filling his plate, nodding slowly. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Anyone who you’d decide is right for you is a whole lot more than one thing.” He took a big bite of egg piled on toast and chewed, his eyes faraway. “You did a good thing, moving back home after college to help out. It’d make your mom proud.”
He reached under his seat and pulled out a thick, manila envelope. He nodded toward Tiff, then tossed it over the table to her. “This would make her proud too,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff.
Tiff looked down at the package. It was addressed to her, and the return address …. Tiff’s head jerked up, a grin pulling her lips wide and questions in her eyes.
“The mailman apparently delivered it to Miss Sera across the street. She brought it by this morning.”
Tiff ripped open the envelope, her hands shaking and her heart going mad in her chest.
Dear Ms. Anderson—We have considered your photographs with interest and would like to run them in the October issue of Midwest Travel. Please find enclosed a contract and ….
Tiff dropped the package, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my gosh!” She looked up to see her father watching her with shining eyes. Even her brother looked excited for her. Tiff jumped up and dragged them both into a crushing hug.
Then she thought of Jax. She couldn’t wait to tell him the news! A magazine wanted to publish her work. This was huge! And it meant even more to Tiff that Jax was the first person she wanted to share this with. He was man who she chose to share her joy, and all of her life.
She couldn’t wait to see him again.
Tiff was early, but she couldn’t sit still. Excitement bubbled through her, and she wanted to hug every person she came across. She downed an Americano at the coffee shop, fiddling with the little square napkin the entire time, then had to move. She practically jumped out of her seat and strode outside.
It was a fresh and glorious summer morning, and the sun on her face was invigorating. Tiff closed her eyes and smiled up at the universe soaring overhead. She was going to see Jax and share her news, and they were going to talk about their future, and everything was just perfect.
Tiff ducked into the bookstore next door, idly considering flipping through a travel magazine. She wanted to get out in nature and spend a few days just with her camera … and Jax.
That was when she heard him. He was tucked into another aisle, and his voice was low. Tiff was just about to round the corner to surprise him when a name stopped him. A woman’s name. She froze at the end of the row, hidden from view.
“Kirsten, I can’t wait. Really.”
Tiff’s heart stopped. The whole world stopped. Except for Jax, he kept talking to Kirsten—whoever that was—he kept destroying Tiff little by little.
“No, of course no one knows I called you. I’m not an idiot.” A pause, then, “I am being careful. You won’t believe the insane few days I’ve had. I’ll tell you this though, I wish I would have listened to you earlier.”
Tiff pressed her fist against her mouth to keep back a sob. Oh God. Oh God. Had it all been a lie? Had everything they’d shared been a joke to him? Tiff had to move, had to escape, but her limbs wouldn’t listen to her. She was stuck in this awful bookstore in this awful town listening to the man she thought she loved make plans with another woman.
On the phone, Jax laughed, low and intimate. “You’re
going to fall head over heels, Kirsten. I promise you. Give me a call as soon as you can.”
And Tiff ran.
Tiff could barely see out of her streaming eyes, but her feet dragged her onward. She stumbled into a door, a cheerful bell tinkling overhead. Tiff swiped at her eyes and leaned against the door.
“Christ alive, girl, who died?” Lacy grabbed Tiff’s arm and pulled her into the salon’s back room, a low-lit spot usually reserved for massages. Lacy pushed Tiff into a chair and stood above her, arms crossed.
“Jax,” Tiff managed through gulps of air. Why wouldn’t her lungs work? And why did she hurt so damned much?
Lacy gasped, and Tiff groaned.
“He … we were supposed to meet, but I was early, and I overhead him with ….”
“Another woman,” Lacy helpfully supplied.
Tiff let her head fall into her lap and groaned. She felt like such a fool. Lacy crouched low and rubbed at Tiff’s back.
“I’m sorry, honey, but what did you expect? Did you really think Jax Hart wasn’t sleeping with groupies the last couple nights?”
Tiff sat up and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “He said he loved me.” She sounded as pathetic as she looked, she was sure.
Lacy sighed heavily and then patted Tiff’s knee. “Oh, Tiff, honey. You were a fling.”
She pulled out her phone and tapped it a few times, then pressed it into Tiff’s hands.
“You might as well see this, if you haven’t.”
Tiff’s raw eyes squinted at the screen, a gossip site with the headline blaring JAX HART—SECRETLY GAY?
What followed was an account by two anonymous women detailing how they’d come onto Jax the first night of the Firefly Festival … how they’d sucked him off and tried to take turns with him, but that he’d shoved them off and ran away.
The first night of the festival. The night they’d met. He’d been with two women the very night they’d met.
Tiff staggered to her feet, swaying unsteadily. She shoved the phone into Lacy’s hands and bolted. And God, she was still so sore from last night, her body aching from all the ways they’d made love.
No, not made love. Jax had fucked her because she was there and willing and maybe gullible enough to believe his lies. God, all his lies. He’d told her they were fated mates … that he was a bear. And she’d been so willing to believe him. To believe a man could shift into a bear. But if there was even an ounce of truth to that, wouldn’t he have shifted in front of her? The only plausible explanation was that he was lying, toying with her for his own enjoyment.
Now in the clear light of the truth, Tiff nearly felt sick. What had once felt so perfect suddenly felt dirty and defiled.
Chapter Sixteen
Jax
JAX SLIPPED HIS PHONE INTO his pocket. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He knew Tiff was talented—he’d known it the second he saw her work—but he swelled with pride to hear Kirsten confirm it.
He’d contacted Kirsten two days ago and directed her to Tiff’s online portfolio, but he hadn’t breathed a word of it to anyone. Not Tiff because he didn’t want to get her hopes up, and not his brothers because … well, because Kirsten had practically left Drew at the altar when she locked on another shifter as her true mate. It was a few years ago now, but Drew had never quite recovered. Kirsten now lived in D.C. and worked in the photography department of National Geographic. And she was interested in Tiff’s work.
Jax tapped a rhythm against his jeans, energy zinging through him. It’d just be a small assignment for Tiff, but if she was a good fit, the magazine would start giving her more work. The rhythm changed a bit, and Jax hummed a few bars. For the first time in months, he felt music and lyrics well up inside of him. He wanted to write, to lay down some new tracks for the album. And it was all because of Tiff, because of the love he’d found with her.
Now, to find her and tell her the news. It was turning out to be quite the morning. Between this and discussing the future …. Jax shook his head back and forth in disbelief. He’d never in a million years thought a few days in Wisconsin would change his life.
Jax ducked out of the bookstore and into the brilliant morning, a smile still playing on his lips.
Tiff strode right by him.
“Tiff!” Jax jogged down the sidewalk, calling Tiff’s name.
She ignored him. Jax frowned and caught up with her. Tiff whirled on him, and Jax startled. Her eyes were raw from crying, her lips puffy. Jax tried to pull Tiff to his chest in a hug, to comfort her. Whatever was wrong, he’d try to help however he could. This was what it meant to be partners, to be mates.
Except, he also had responsibilities to his band. They were leaving in just two hours to head over to Madison for a show. But he’d stay with her as long as he could and come back that night. Jax wrapped his arms around Tiff, but she pushed him away.
“Leave me the hell alone,” she hissed. Her voice was thick with more tears, her eyes red.
A few passersby glanced their way, but Jax didn’t give a shit who saw this. Whatever this was.
“Tiff, what’s—”
Tiff took a step back, putting space between them. Jax felt it like someone was carving his heart out. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“I know the truth now, so you can stop pretending. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Was this about his bear? She seemed fine with it when he’d confessed last night, but maybe … maybe it’d seemed okay in the heat of the moment. Maybe now that she knew the truth about his murderous father, she didn’t trust him or what he was. Anger roiled through Jax for a moment—not at Tiff, never at Tiff, but at his bear. If that was the reason she rejected him, he’d never forgive that part of himself.
Jax’s shoulders drooped, his chin too. “I thought you handled it well. Tiff, if I could change …. But that’s who I am.”
Tiff’s whole body went rigid, and she stalked closer. “No, I don’t accept that you can’t help but give in to your base instincts. That’s bullshit, Jax, and we both know it.” Tiff sucked in an angry breath and looked for one second like she wanted to slap Jax. He almost welcomed it. Anger, he could deal with. But cold rejection, that left him feeling hopeless.
But she didn’t slap him, she stepped back. Her eyes were still raw, her cheeks stained from crying, but her voice was steel. “Leave me alone, Jax. I mean it.”
Tiff held Jax’s eyes for a moment, then turned away. No. No. This couldn’t be it. Jax couldn’t accept that he’d met his soulmate, known true happiness, and that it’d only lasted a couple days. That was just cruel. Jax’s hand was warm on Tiff’s arm, insistent but gentle. Tiff could have pulled away if she wanted. She didn’t, and that tiny gesture made a tiny flicker of hope flare in Jax’s chest.
“I’m playing in Madison tonight,” he said to her back. “But I’ll come right back here after and we’ll figure this out. There must be a way past this.”
“Don’t,” Tiff said, staring at the sidewalk.
“Tiff, I need to see you again. My life is yours now. My whole existence is to make you happy.”
Finally, Tiff turned around. She kept her eyes down, but Jax tracked a tear that traced its way down her beautiful face. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, and choked with emotion. “If you’re telling the truth. If you really want to make me happy, you’ll leave and never come back.”
Tiff tugged her arm away from Jax and left him standing alone in the middle of town.
The tour bus was idling when Jax finally made it back to the hotel. Pain was a lance within him, a knife that twisted with every step. He’d never known that emotional pain could actually hurt, but now he felt like he’d been on the losing side in a barroom brawl. Jax roughed his hands through his hair and trudged up the bus steps. He’d welcome a fight, to lose himself in punching and being punched. What he was feeling right now was all too immediate and almost too terrible to bear.
Drew looked up from his tablet as Jax
got on the bus. He peered behind Jax then raised both dark eyebrows. “I thought you’d have Tiff with you.”
Jax didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Next to Drew, Chase whistled and then poured two large tumblers of whiskey and held the second out to Jax. He took it gratefully. Derek ambled by Jax toward the front of the bus to climb into the driver’s seat, but paused. He laid a long, bony hand on Jax’s shoulder and attempted a smile.
“Good riddance to her, then,” he said. He met Jax’s eyes. “If I know anything about Hart men, it’s that you can’t be trusted around pretty women. You’ll forget her soon enough.”
Jax slapped Derek’s hand off his shoulder and curled one fist into his T-shirt. “You don’t know a goddamned thing about me, you got that? You’re our tour manager, not our friend. So do your fucking job and drive us to the gig.”
Derek stepped back, hands raised in submission. “Hey, just trying to give some free advice.”
Chase tipped back his whiskey and started pouring another. “Maybe keep it to yourself, man.”
Jax was seething, his teeth gritted and muscles jumping in his jaw. “I’m not forgetting Tiff,” he snarled. “I’m going to figure out how to win her back if it kills me.”
Derek smiled lightly and then slid into the driver’s seat. His eyes found Jax’s in the rearview mirror. “Here’s me doing my job then: Dying isn’t very good for album sales if said album isn’t recorded yet.”
He threw the bus into drive, and they rumbled off. Jax collapsed onto a deep couch and let his head fall back. He swiveled his neck to watch out the window as New Scandia and Tiff disappeared from view.
He felt the couch depress next to him. “What Drew said … were you really going to ask Tiff to join us on the rest of the tour?”
Jax lifted his head to look at Bret. Things had been stiff between them lately. Bret was never the most easy-going, but the two of them had always had a rapport. But ever since admitting he’d locked on Tiff, Bret had been growing distant.