“Jax.” A breathy laugh flowed from her as she touched her hands to his cheeks. She stared into his eyes. “Look at me. Do I look like I don’t know what I’m doing?”
He stared into her knowing eyes, watching for any kind of drugged sleepiness. All he saw was an echo of the heated desire that thrummed through his own veins.
She sat back with a cat-cream smile. “Satisfied?”
“No, and I won’t be until we get home.” Jax caught her smiling lips with his, hungrily chasing her tongue as he kissed her. He broke off and shifted to reach the intercom button. He spoke into it, keeping a wicked gaze on Charlie. “We won’t be needing your services anymore tonight, Leon. You get on home.”
“Very good, Jax.”
Charlie frowned at him. “Why . . . ?” Light dawned in her eyes. “Oh, no, I hate pop—”
He flashed them out of the car.
14.
Charlie staggered as she and Jax re-formed. Clutching him, she opened one eye and then the other. “I hate popping,” she grumbled, sliding her hands down his chest. His belly tightened as her fingers played over his shirt buttons.
“I’ll make it up to you.” Liquid desire pooled as he spoke, his voice all gravel and dark temptation. His hand cupped her nape, his thumb making idle passes along the skin. “You want a drink of anything?”
She should’ve known Jax wasn’t a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy. His kisses alone should have warned her what he liked: thorough and slow and seductive. This was a man who liked to take his time. It just might kill her.
“Sure.” She swept a glance around the apartment he’d flashed them into. “Where are we?”
“My apartment in New York.” He walked across the living room that could fit her whole apartment in its space, bypassing three black leather couches that looked as soft as whipped cream to climb onto a platform that the entire kitchen sat on.
The apartment was open-plan for the most part and seemed to be organized into three distinct areas: huge living room, huge kitchen on a raised platform about two steps off the ground, and a—yep, that’s right—huge dining space with a table that could seat twenty. He did a lot of entertaining obviously. It was clearly a bachelor pad, but there were some feminine touches that she assumed Mabel had added—a splash of color here and there, a few paintings, curtains that actually fit the windows.
She wandered over the exposed wooden floorboards to the mantel where a few framed photos stood. A smile curled her lips as she saw a younger Mabel on Jax’s back in a classic piggyback. They seemed to be at the beach, Jax in trunks and Mabel in a black-and-white polka-dot swimsuit and floppy white hat. Even through a picture, she could see the bond between them.
Glasses clinked in the kitchen as Charlie moved to the next photo. Black-and-white and artistic, it showed a woman with light hair and kind eyes holding a baby in a blanket. Happiness radiated through her smiling lips. It had to be his mom.
She recalled the unhappy glint in his eyes when she’d brought up the woman and moved away before it could spoil the mood.
Jax walked over, his tuxedo jacket shed and his bow tie hanging around his open collar. With his shadowed jaw and kiss-red lips, he looked so sexy she thought about just leaping on him. He handed her a glass of water.
Charlie shot him a look. “I’m not drunk.”
“Take the glass.”
She took it and wandered over to the wall of windows that showed the city lit in a blanket of darkness. A sigh left her. “I love the city at night.”
“Me, too.” He moved behind, his hands sliding over her waist in a promise. “I look out here sometimes and realize every tiny light is a person going about their business. They seem so small.”
“How high are we?”
“Seventy floors, and that’s not what I meant.” His chin brushed the top of her head. “I’ve been alive for fifty-eight years. My lifetime will stretch long past those lights.”
Charlie’s heart ached as she realized what he was telling her. The ultimate short-term guy, he could never get involved with someone beyond the superficial.
She put the glass down on a three-legged stool near the window and covered his hands with hers.
They stood there for a moment longer, both trapped in a strange melancholy and neither sure how to break the mood.
Jax’s lips eventually drifted over her temple. “You sure?”
She knew what he was asking. The question reverberated down to her soul. Was she sure?
All she knew was that a person could live a thousand years without really living. If her mortal life was so short, she was determined to squeeze every drop of fun out of it that she could.
She turned in his arms so his hands rested on the curve of her back. Her hands threaded through his hair. “Kiss me, Jax.”
A smile flirted with his lips, his eyes light and dark at the same time. “Yes, ma’am.”
His lips captured hers in a teasing slide, merely tasting for now in the shadows of a vibrant city. Soft sighs slipped from her as she rose onto her tiptoes to get closer, inviting him in.
He began to sway them, directing her hips as he continued the kiss at a leisurely pace. All the urgency he’d seemed to feel in the limo had apparently been bottled.
Hers on the other hand had only escalated, simmering like a pot about to go off the boil. Her skin was itchy and tight, hot and in need of soothing. Every swish of her silky dress shivered across her skin and made her toes curl.
“Jax,” she breathed as he dropped a kiss on her jaw.
He raised his head and a gleam of satisfaction glowed in blue eyes glittering with gold. She was pleased to note his face was shadowed with desire, his hands tighter on her hips, and against her stomach evidence of his need for her grew. And grew.
He nipped her bottom lip, chuckling as she chased his mouth. “Patience, Donahue.”
“No.”
He leaned back, his mouth wet from hers. His chest rose with harsh breaths. “You deserve some romance.”
“I don’t need romance.” Her knee slid up the outside of his thigh as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I need you.”
A flush of desire streaked across his cheekbones. “Romance,” he grated. “I want to spoil you.”
She was abruptly cast aside as he stepped back. She pushed an aggravated hand through her hair. “What’s with this need you have to spoil me?”
His face softened, and he stepped forward again to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered. “You don’t seem like you’ve been spoiled a lot. I want to give you pleasure.”
“Then get naked.”
He chuckled. “So impatient. It’s flattering.”
Charlie was having trouble sorting her thoughts with the desire flowing through her, but she knew he was slipping back into smug, arrogant habits. Her hand pressed into his chest. “You said something about romance.”
Jax’s lips curled at one side. “As you wish.”
His hand gestured.
Charlie’s mouth dropped. Thousands of tea lights had appeared around the palatial room, flickering in the darkness, lending their golden glow in a beckoning trail to one of the rooms off the open-plan section. Yellow petals, scattered between the candles, let off a scent, sweet and floral.
She swallowed. “Roses?”
Jax brought out a hand from behind his back and offered a golden sunflower.
Her heart ached as she accepted the flower.
“Come.” Jax slid his hand down her arm in a teasing caress and took her hand. He tugged her down the petal trail.
“I plan to,” Charlie murmured.
Jax whirled her as they got to the door and urged her back against its unrelenting surface. “Cheeky.” His hands captured both of her wrists and suspended them above her. His lower body pushed against hers, and she groaned at the hard feel of him.
His eyes glittered as he bent to kiss her, thoroughly claiming her mouth. Being bound gave the kiss an undenia
bly exciting roughness, more so when Jax’s careful control slipped as she lifted her leg onto his hip.
He caught both wrists in one hand, the other gliding down her body to the knee that rode his hip. He rocked against her, hard against soft, a teasing brush of pressure that drove her desire to crazy levels.
She tugged against his grip. Freed, she slid her hands to his shirt and began unbuttoning, overwhelmed with the need for skin-to-skin contact. Her hands slipped over warm muscled flesh, brushing his hard male nipples with her fingers as his mouth ate away at hers.
He dropped her to the floor, keeping hold. A good thing because her knees were mush, her head was spinning, and her body was a ball of want, aching to be joined with his. She let out a keening noise.
“Fuck.” The profanity slipped from him as he fumbled for the doorknob behind her. They fell into the darkened recesses of his bedroom.
He grasped her by the upper arms, his lips insistent against hers, his tongue teasing, tasting every corner of her mouth. His strength excited her as her feet dangled a foot from the carpet. Her shoes plopped off.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, letting out a shivery breath as her heat met his cock. Her hips initiated a dance of their own volition, a teasing slide that felt oh so good and hot and perfect.
His hands were bruising as he laid her on a bed, she assumed it was a bed, but oh, she didn’t care as he crawled on top of her, as her legs linked behind his back. The weight of him crushed her into a soft mattress, and she delighted in it, busy hands stripping him of his shirt. She made a purring sound deep in her throat as she feasted her eyes on his flesh. Leanly muscled, his arms were roped with it, his chest smooth with only a few golden hairs to run her hands through. His stomach was tight and ribbed, his pecs biteable. Apples filled her nose as she levered up to taste.
His growl filled the room, and then her dress tore in one clean stroke from the high neck to the low hem. He thrust the scattered remains away. His eyes were dark as they roved her body, pale in the darkness, the only light the moon streaming in through an uncurtained window. “Gorgeous.”
It was a rasp, animalistic almost, as his hands traced the trail from her neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. She quivered as the rough hand lingered there.
He rose and kicked off his shoes, shucking his pants as she leaned onto one elbow to watch. No underwear. A smile flirted with her lips. Figures.
The time for laughter was over when he stood in the moonlight, an Adonis among mortal men, tight and firm and ripped and huge. He stood proudly—every part of him—golden and gorgeous. His eyes devoured her as he pounced.
Minutes slipped away under his hot, wet mouth, soft sighs and soul-felt groans as he kissed her breasts, gorged on them, sucking her nipples until her hips rose in desperate need. His hands traced the lines of her body like he was learning her.
Her nails scratched his back in a desperate bid to get him to hurry, hips rocking against his. Every stroke of his cock against her made her crazed, need overcoming inhibition until sweat poured from both of them.
“Now, Jax,” she gasped, and he lunged, piercing her soul, connecting them so deeply she didn’t think they’d ever unwind.
When he moved, the pleasure escalated, built in wave after wave after wave, so hot and hard and fierce. Her head thrashed from side to side. His lips were at her neck as he groaned against her, surged in and out, his hands bruising.
One slid down her stomach to find her clit, toying, flicking until it was too much for her to take, too much for one person to take.
Her nails sank into his skin as she screamed, her orgasm exploding through her like a firework in a box. Lights flashed behind her closed eyelids as he continued to thrust, working her, playing with her until the shudders began again.
Her eyes flickered open to watch his face as he stared down at her, moans rising from him. He watched her back, his eyes deep and dark and hungry as his hips pumped once, twice, three more times. His groan of pleasure ripped through the room.
“Charlie.”
He collapsed onto her, sweaty and male and heavy. Breaths quivered from her as aftershocks sparked with their own small pleasure. Her hair, undone from its complicated updo, stuck to her forehead, swept across the pillow in a tangled mess.
She unwound her legs from his hips and swept a lazy hand up his back. “You forgot music.”
A beat later, LMFAO beat around the darkened room, declaring he was “sexy and I know it.”
He laughed when she smacked him.
* * *
They reached for each other throughout the night, a night that passed with silken moans, harsh growls, silent gasps, and hot, wet loving that was at turns as dirty and crude as it was slow and thorough.
After the fifth time—Genies had stamina—Charlie fell into an exhausted slumber that rivaled unconsciousness.
She awoke to sun streaming in through the window and an empty space in the king-sized bed next to her.
Charlie lay there for a moment, adjusting to the feel of a nonlumpy mattress, the fluffy quilt, and oh, yeah, the fact that her body was a mass of aches and bruises and was singing like a soprano.
She was Jax’s lover.
Her hands flew to her mouth as she laughed, her eyes squeezing close as she recalled all the things they’d done to each other. A shiver, even now, skated down her spine as want coiled in her belly. He was like an addiction, her craving for him insatiable.
Charlie glanced around the room, unsurprised to see it was the typical male space: a bed, a chest of drawers, a bookcase—which was a surprise—and a chair with what looked like dirty laundry stacked above it. You could make a man a Genie, but he’d still be a man.
She slipped out of the bed and grabbed his white shirt from the floor. Buttoning it, she wondered how she was going to explain to Kate that her dress was now one slip of material. A hot curl of longing tightened her belly as she remembered how Jax had ripped it clean off her. Gotta love a He-Man sometimes.
The books called to her, and she nipped across the navy carpet to inspect. Books were a true indication of someone’s nature. A romantic would keep his romance books, a thrill seeker, crime. Surprise blanketed her as she realized the spines all spelled out classics. Austen, the Brontës, Dickens, even a tattered copy of Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell.
The door opened behind her before she could muse upon what that revealed about him. “Good morning.” His voice was low, and it curled around her as she turned to face him.
It wasn’t in her nature to be coy, but a blush did rise to her cheeks and heat them as she saw him leaning against the doorframe. He wore jeans and a white sweater and carried a bakery bag loosely in one hand.
“Good morning.”
“How’d you sleep?” He walked forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.
“You mean when I got some?”
He chuckled and indicated the bed. “Get back in. I brought you breakfast.”
“Wow, you are determined to spoil me.” Charlie clambered back into the bed and looked expectantly at the bag. “Mabel?”
“Nah, she’s probably shacked up with Peter this morning.” He wiggled his eyebrows and handed over the bag.
Curious, Charlie unfolded the top. Butter, hot and melty and sweet, hit her on the nose. “Croissants?” She peeked in and saw two croissants, a small jar of raspberry preserves, and a white plastic knife. She arched an eyebrow at him. “You went back to Paris, didn’t you?”
“It was on my way.”
Charlie didn’t comment, only shook her head. The smile was out of her hands as she retrieved a pastry. She nibbled the edge. It melted in her mouth, and she made a sound of pleasure.
He leaned forward and licked a shard of croissant off her lips. “Mmm,” he echoed, his sexy blue eyes hooded with desire.
Charlie caught a breath. “Could you get me a plate?”
“What for?” Jax took the croissant from her and squeezed it so that the pastry tore an
d sprinkled her with flakes of buttery goodness. As she gaped at him, he licked his fingers clean. “Did you know Parisians think eating off skin enhances the dining experience?”
Desire clamped an iron band around her belly and squeezed.
She lay back with a smile. “Let’s find out.”
15.
Josh handed Jax the form he needed to sign. His glasses slipped down his nose and he pushed them back as he stood in front of Jax’s glass desk. “Have fun last night?”
The pen paused midscribble as a memory of Charlie, head flung backward as she rode them both to ecstasy, flashed through him.
Jax glanced at Josh and smiled. “It had its moments.”
“Yeah, I heard the press were out in force,” Josh continued, not catching on to the undertone. His assistant slid him a look. “There’s a lot of speculation about you and Charlie.”
“Let them speculate.”
Josh cleared his throat. “What, ah, is going on between you two?”
Jax handed back the form and added a few other papers he needed Josh to look at. His lips curved. “Man to man?”
“Sure, Jax, you know I won’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did.” Jax tapped his lips and shrugged. “We’re . . .” Dating seemed too simple a word for what he and Charlie were doing. Screwing each other’s brains out was reducing it to less than it was. “Seeing each other.”
Josh blinked. “What does that mean?”
“Hell if I know.” Jax pushed a hand through his hair. “There isn’t a word for what we’re doing. We’re testing the waters.”
His assistant shuffled the papers he held. The shirt he wore had a coffee stain by the collar and was misbuttoned from the bottom. Jax held back a smile as he noticed the shaving cuts on Josh’s jaw.
“I like her, by the way,” Josh added. He coughed. “She’s nice.”
“She’s stubborn and suspicious.” Jax shook his head and swore. “I must be a masochist or something to enjoy that.”
Josh laughed and went to lean on the desk. His hand slipped and his head smashed down on the lip. He tumbled to the floor.
Her Wish--A Playboy Genie Romance Page 20