by Lucy Score
She fought against his grip on her hands. “I swear to God, I’m going to kick your ass for this build-up. Yes, we’re good!”
There was probably more to her rant, but the words never made it past her lips because Jax thrust into her, hard and deep. Completely sheathed in her, he stopped and held.
Home. He was finally, finally home.
Belatedly, something between a scream and a moan ripped through Joey. He wanted to give her a chance to get used to the invasion, to being filled. She was so tight he could feel every ripple of her muscles as she trembled beneath him. He flexed his hips into her and she gasped.
“Jesus, did you come again?”
“Don’t judge,” she gasped.
This is where he needed to be. With less finesse than he liked, he pulled out almost all the way before driving into her again. He was coated in her juices, their sweat mingling as slick skin slid over slick skin.
Her hips pumped, trying to control the pace. She wanted the ferocity of speed, he wanted to make it last. Or at least try to.
She moaned again in his ear as he filled her. Lost in her, Jax made the mistake of loosening his grip on her wrists. Joey took advantage. She shoved and rolled. Jax lolled to the side. Someone’s leg kicked into an end table, tipping it over.
Victory lit Joey’s eyes as she gained the top. She began to move, slowly at first, teasingly. She was glorious, a warrior queen riding into battle.
As she slid down his shaft, inch by glorious inch, Jax felt his eyes begin to close. But he forced them open, not wanting to miss a second of this magic. Joey leaned forward bracing her hands on his shoulders and began to ride. Their gazes locked and he saw the wonder, the desire, and that little shadow of fear in her.
She quickened the pace again, riding for her life. Rising up, she yanked the tie out of her hair, sending it tumbling down in thick, dark waves. She spread her arms wide, let her head drop back.
It was too much for him. Too much beauty, too much power. Jax reared up and claimed her breast with his mouth. He felt the storm building in them both and wasn’t sure if either of them would come out alive.
She was already tightening around his shaft. He could feel the muscles dance along his hard length. His vision grayed as he found the very edge of his release. Just one. More. Thrust.
She slammed down on him and he unleashed his orgasm into her depths. “Joey.” Only her name on his lips. She was coming with him, a riot of sensation. He held her tight, his face pressed to her breast, content to pour himself into her while she shattered around him.
“Yes, Jax. Yes,” she chanted until everything but his name was incoherent.
17
Her body felt loose and limp. Like honey, gold and thick. Sated, finally, after years of longing. Her world had been rocked. Her soul shaken. Her body teased and used until it exploded beyond its boundaries. Yet, even after her soul-wrecking release, she wanted more of him.
Their years apart had only intensified their physical connection. She’d have to be careful there. Getting swept away in his arms would be so easy…and so dangerous.
She felt raw and exposed and craved the safety of a healthy distance. Which, she reminded herself as his still hard cock twitched inside her, might prove to be as difficult as it was ironic.
Shit. She was draped over him like a saddle blanket. Her face was pressed against his neck where she could feel his pulse rate slowly returning to normal. She was not a cuddler. And most importantly, she wasn’t a cuddler with Jax. She didn’t need him getting the wrong idea. They were just having fun. Fun that felt like the earth had moved and started spinning backward on its axis.
The feel of his strong, rough hands stroking her back was like heaven.
She mustered every once of self-control and rolled off of him.
His hand snaked out to grab her wrist. “Where are you going?”
She glanced down at him, his sleepy, sated eyes, hair just long enough to curl a little was disheveled from her hands. Her heart stumbled, and Joey knew she was on dangerous ground.
“Drink?” she asked.
He looked at her, into her with those storm cloud eyes. She could feel him silently probing her defenses. But she wasn’t going to let him in.
“Sure,” he said quietly, still studying her.
She steeled herself against the disappointment she heard in his tone.
Keep it light, she reminded herself. Incredible, mutually satisfying sex with a gorgeous man was nothing to feel guilty about. She’d been clear about where they stood. She was in charge.
Naked, she tiptoed around the shards of lamp that hadn’t survived their tryst. She escaped to the sideboard by the dining table where she kept a bottle of bourbon. She poured three fingers each into two glasses and took her time wandering back to the fire.
Waffles had picked his way through the debris—a broom and dustpan weren’t going to cut it—and was flopped on his back offering his belly to Jax for scratches.
She handed Jax a glass and, against her better judgment, snagged his shirt. She pulled it over her head and settled on the floor against the couch, just out of his reach.
Jax raised up on an elbow and studied her.
Whether it was from the bite of bourbon, the warmth of the fire, or the heat from his gaze, Joey felt immune to the winter’s chill. He was staring at her and she let him, meeting his gaze with a calm that she didn’t feel inside. His eyes were darker here in the firelight. He had two days worth of stubble that gave him that devilish, dangerous look.
Muscled and lean, just looking at him made her mouth water. He’d filled out more since they’d been together last. His shoulders and chest were broader, but he still hadn’t lost the enviable abs that had the entire female population of their senior class drooling over him at the pool.
Oh, the things he could do with that body.
“You’re staring.” He said it with a quiet smirk.
“Can you blame me?” she rolled her eyes.
“What are you doing all the way over there?”
Joey wriggled her bare toes in the rug. “I’m having a drink with a friend,” she said innocently.
She saw the flare in his eyes and wasn’t sure if it was anger or a challenge.
“Is that what we are?”
“We wouldn’t have done what we just did if we weren’t friendly,” she said mildly.
He moved, quick as a snake and Joey found herself pinned between a naked, hard Jax and the couch. She sat against his thighs with no place to go, no escape to be made.
Waffles scrambled off to the corner and lay down.
“I know what you’re doing, Jojo,” Jax said, his lips nipping at hers.
It was a purely biological response that had her opening for him, melting under him.
“What am I doing?” she murmured. Her lips moving over the sandpaper of his stubble.
“Staying in control.” He whispered his way down her neck. “Setting boundaries.”
He shifted forward and Joey felt his erection, full and hard against her. He was inhuman. It was the only explanation.
“It won’t work, you know.”
“Why not?” she shivered.
“Because I want more, Joey. I’m not settling for a friendly roll in the hay. I want it all.”
Using his hand, he guided the head of his shaft between her thighs. She tried to smother the gasp that tore past her lips at the intimate contact.
“I told you what I wanted,” she said, a touch of panic in her tone.
“And I appreciate your honesty. Now I’m returning the favor.” He flexed his hips and the tip of his cock breeched her entrance.
Joey’s breath was coming in short gasps. A need so fierce it threatened to choke her clawed its way up her throat.
“I came back for you, Jojo. I wasted too many years. I’m not wasting any more. I’m yours and I’m not going to stop until you’re mine.”
“I don’t want that, any of that,” Joey whispered.
&nbs
p; “I know, baby,” Jax said, resting his forehead on hers. His breath was ragged. “But you deserve everything and I’m not letting you settle.”
He shifted again. Another agonizing inch.
“Jax!” Joey’s voice broke, but she was too far gone to care.
“I’ll stop if you want me to, Jojo. Just tell me.”
She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t find any words for what she wanted. The only thing that made sense to her was taking him in, filling her need.
“Tell me, Joey,” Jax gritted out.
She felt tears prick her eyes and closed her lids to hold them prisoner. “Don’t stop, Jax. Please don’t stop.”
He surged into her on a groan. “I love you, Jojo.”
Full, so full. It was enough to turn off her doubts, to give herself over to the moment. There was nothing that mattered more than those gray eyes looking into her as he filled her.
She moaned, trying to block out his words, but he chanted them over and over again. “I love you. I love you.” Every thrust.
Why? Why did she want this so badly? Why was she setting aside eight years of hurt and anger?
“You were made for me.”
“Shut up, Jax,” she groaned, her fingers digging into his biceps.
“Come for me, baby. I need to feel you come again.” His hand snaked down between her legs to stroke her where all the nerves in her body seemed to meet.
It was too much. She was too vulnerable. She could get hurt like this. Joey wanted the safety and security of being in control. She struggled against him. Jax was too close, she just needed to catch her breath and …
And it was too late. The wall of pleasure that had been building within her cracked.
She whimpered his name.
“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you.” His voice was strained from effort.
She did what he asked and gave herself over to him. The wall broke and tumbled down and as she came, she felt Jax tense as he found his own release. He groaned in her ear, a primitive growl, and she felt him let loose inside her.
“I love you.” He whispered it again, over and over as they trembled together.
Joey pretended that the single tear that blazed a trail down her cheek never escaped.
* * *
A cold, wet nose pressed into his hip, startling Jax from his reverie. “I think Waffles wants something,” he murmured against the soft skin of Joey’s throat.
Joey responded with a sleepy “Mmm.”
The nose returned and Jax reluctantly pulled himself out of and away from Joey.
Her eyes were still closed and she didn’t even put up a fight when he leaned back in to place a hard kiss on her mouth.
“C’mon, buddy,” Jax said to the dog. Waffles padded along with him to the back door. Jax let him out and rummaged around the kitchen for treats. He found them in a jar with a paw print and discovered a chocolate chip treat for himself in the neighboring cookie jar.
“Are you foraging?” Joey called lazily from the couch.
“I’m carb-loading,” he said through a mouthful of cookie.
Jax let the now chipper Waffles back inside and handed over the treat. The dog’s butt hit the floor and his wiry tail swished a happy beat on the hardwood. Waffles looked at him adoringly.
“Don’t over treat him,” Joey’s order was softened by her yawn. “Too many and he gets a stomach ache.”
Jax grinned and ruffled Waffles fur. “You made out pretty good, didn’t you, boy?”
Was it possible to be jealous of a dog? Joey had made a good life for herself here. The job that suited her, the cabin that exactly reflected her tastes, the small circle of friends that she tolerated.
The only thing missing, as far as he could see, was him.
And come hell or high water, he’d find a place in her life.
As if pulled by gravity, he returned to Joey’s side. She’d stretched out on the floor, still wearing his shirt, and Jax hoped he never got it back.
Her eyes were closed, but the corners of those sweet lips were curved up. She was the picture of satisfaction. He’d never get tired of seeing her like this, or in any of her other configurations.
Joey as the quiet, steadfast friend, or the fiery fighter, the confident queen on horseback. There were pieces of Joey Greer in every female lead he wrote. His fascination with her was endless. Even now, watching the flicker of firelight over her flawless features, he felt the urge to write. Inspiration from his unwitting muse.
“Come on, Jojo. Let’s get you to bed.” He leaned down to tickle her ribs.
“Mmm,” she grumbled. “Bed’s so far.”
“I’ll carry you.”
Warily, one of Joey’s eyes flickered open. “Not happening,” she said. She slowly worked her way into a seated position where she surveyed the damage to the living room. The broken lamp, the coffee table shoved into the chair, its contents strewn onto the rug.
“Looks like a war zone in here,” she said.
“Waffles did it.” Jax winked and offered a hand, pulling her to her feet.
“If he did that, he’s also ate four of those cookies when they were cooling on the rack.”
“Doggy kindergarten is in his future,” Jax predicted.
Oblivious to the blatant lies being told about him, the dog sat at the foot of the stairs.
“He’s ready for bed,” Jax observed.
“That makes two of us,” Joey yawned. “You staying?”
She hadn’t meant to ask him. He could tell by the pure panic lighting her eyes. He hid his grin. She’d fight it, fight him, but in the end, he would win.
“I’m staying,” he said, guiding her to the stairs. “Do you have a computer I could borrow? I’m feeling a little writer’s inspiration.”
“It’s after two,” Joey reminded him, her hips swaying mesmerizingly in front of him as she trudged up the stairs.
“You’re the one who talked to Al tonight. She’s serious as a heart attack when she says she’ll show up here.”
He followed Joey through a doorway into the master bedroom to end all master bedrooms. A wrought iron king-sized bed dominated one wall facing a two-way fireplace. The far wall had a built-in window seat that looked out over the dark of her backyard.
Waffles hopped up on the bed, curling into a tight ball on the hand-stitched quilt. The dog let out a satisfied sigh.
“Lucky guy,” Jax murmured stroking his head.
“I’d say you got lucky, too,” Joey said, a dark eyebrow arching wickedly.
“I’d have to agree.”
He was already leaning into her when she slapped a hand to his bare chest. “If we go for another round it’ll be dawn and I won’t be able to walk let alone ride a horse. You have writing to do. I have sleeping to do.”
She picked up the laptop on her nightstand and handed it over. “Charger’s downstairs on the island.”
“This isn’t over.” It was a statement of fact.
“I guess we’ll see,” Joey said, as she sauntered off into the bathroom.
The sway of her hips, the way the hem of his shirt coasted along her thighs, Jax almost followed her. He actually took a step after her before snapping out of it. He had a story to tell.
Reluctantly, he went back downstairs. He took a few minutes to clean up the damage their lovemaking had caused. He owed her a lamp, and the coffee table had a deep gouge in it. Next time they’d keep it to the bed, less property damage that way. He found a broken picture frame next to the back door. He turned it over in his hands and found himself staring into the smiling face of Joey’s father, his arm looped over Joey’s shoulder. She was decked out in her college riding team uniform and clutched a fistful of blue ribbons.
Behind the pride, the easy smile, Jax could see the fierce protectiveness Forrest Greer wore like a coat when it came to his daughters. He was all too familiar with how far Joey’s father would go to keep Joey safe. It was something that would have to be addressed sooner rather than later.
Jax cleaned up the glass and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before settling on Joey’s couch and booting up the laptop.
* * *
Joey blindly groped for the source of her torment smacking her phone and sending it tumbling to the floor where the alarm continued to sound undaunted.
Through the slit of one eye she could see the sun just beginning to crest the tree line. She was generally a morning person and an early start with the horses usually bought her a pocket of time in the afternoon with the bulk of the days’ work behind her.
But this morning, bed tempted her with a siren’s song. She felt warm and happy under the covers. They seemed heavier today, as if they were holding her captive. The soft snore in her ear had her bolting out of bed looking for a weapon.
Jax, his arms suddenly empty, frowned.
Jackson Pierce was in her bed asleep.
He fidgeted, reaching for her in his sleep. Joey shoved a pillow into his arms and—after one last look at his shirtless, sleepy self—tiptoed into the bathroom. She usually didn’t bother showering until after she was finished in the stables, but after last night’s mind-blowing rolls in the hay that were all coming back to her now, she felt like she deserved some hot water action.
She shut the door quietly behind her and studied herself in the mirror over the vanity. She didn’t look like a guilt-ridden, regretful woman. She looked satisfied. Damn satisfied.
So Jax loved her, okay. He knew she wasn’t interested in a relationship, that she wasn’t a Summer or a Gia. She had chosen her path, her goals were laid out. And if the occasional sex fest with Jax fit in here or there, she’d be an idiot not to enjoy them.
Conscience cleared, she nodded at her reflection. She had this. Piece of cake.
* * *
Hours later, a bleary-eyed Jax made his way downstairs with Waffles padding along behind him. He’d crawled into bed with Joey after six and, after dragging her against his side, slept like the dead.
He’d finished it, finally. The draft of the screenplay had been sent on its merry way to Al, who had responded immediately in the inhuman West Coast time difference. He had his suspicions that the woman never slept. She was always, always there when he needed her no matter what the day or time. Like his mother. Not that he’d be dumb enough to voice that comparison aloud to Al who hadn’t celebrated a birthday since she turned forty.