Jaxson

by Kris Keldaran

  The honesty of his answer took her back to the dreams she’d had as a little girl and of finding a Prince Charming who did everything he could to help her smile and laugh. Each day, she found a reason to love Jax more. Now was no exception.

  *****

  Banshee Squad was waiting curbside with Donny when Jax pulled up to Honolulu International Airport on Sunday afternoon for the flight to Japan. Kehau got out wearing a short red dress and black heels, utterly oblivious of all the attention she was receiving. Even Donny felt his jaw slam to the ground.

  “Hey, Rockstar,” a bearded squad member prodded him with an elbow. “When did the boss get her?”

  “Just before we went to Japan. He says she teaches at HPU.”

  “I don’t ever remember a college teacher looking that good.”

  “Hell, it might be enough to make me go back to school,” another man voiced aloud.

  “Damn right,” several voices affirmed at once.

  “Guess when you’re worth a couple million you can get better looking women.”

  Donny didn’t respond to that aloud. He had to admit though, the shooter had a point. Maybe I should start looking for women like that. God knows I can afford it, his newfound wealth owed to Jax and the Yakuza.

  The day after the Yakuza had paid them a visit, Kikuchi called Jax and his team into a meeting with the board.

  “Gentlemen, we have an important question to ask: what would happen if we wanted to increase the breadth of your service to us?” Kikuchi asked in a disarmingly innocent voice.

  “Depends on what you’re wanting done.”

  “We wish to not only have our security systems reviewed as originally agreed upon, we wish for you to serve as cadre, and build a real security guard service for us, through a selection process of your own devising. Would seventy-five million over the next six months be adequate? ”

  Jax had recovered quickly enough from the initial shock. “Beginning now?”

  “If you have the men, of course.”

  Jax smiled broadly. “We would be happy to do so.”

  Even allowing for taxes, the Jaëgers had just kicked in the door on the Millionaire’s club. Not knocked and asked for permission to step inside—they took a size twelve combat boot and kicked that bitch in.

  I don’t know how he does it, but I’m glad I joined up in this insanity, Donny realized.

  Jax’s seabag was slung over one shoulder and his backpack rested in his free hand. Kehau embraced him, and he kissed her with a searing liplock. The Banshees saw this and began cheering loudly.

  “Get some, Johnny Rocket!”

  “ERRAH!”

  “Ignore them,” Jax told Kehau.

  “Ignore what?” Kehau asked.

  “Exactly. Keys are in the ignition, and I’ll see you as soon as I’m done getting them set up. Supposed to be back by Thursday morning.

  “I know. I packed homemade chocolate chip cookies for you.”

  I love you, woman. I love you, I love you, I love you, Jax repeated mentally.

  He kissed her again. “Be safe, gorgeous, have a great week.”

  The old Chevy pulled away from the curb and Jax watched it leave with a sigh. Damn, he wasn’t looking forward to this week.

  “Missing her already, boss? What'd she do, cast a voodoo spell on you?” Jax looked over at Donny meaningfully.

  “Hey, Donny, when was the last time you had a woman make homemade chocolate chip cookies for you?”

  The look of jealousy on the younger man’s face was priceless. Jax wished he had his iPhone handy to take a picture.

  Jax made it all the way to their hotel room before he tried one of the cookies Kehau had so thoughtfully made. “Hello good times.” He popped it in his mouth, bit down, and stopped. Jesus Christ, these things were hard! And unless he missed his mark, the bottom was burnt too. He spat it into the trashcan, then pulled another from the bag. The bottom looked less charred. “Maybe this’ll be better,” saying out loud to the empty room. Jax closed his eyes and bit down, “Blech!” The second cookie went into the trash as well. How had she gotten all that salt in one cookie?

  Jax eyed the bag. “I think this woman is gonna make me a liar.” He threw the whole bag into the trash as he rinsed his mouth out with a beer.

  “Hotel room service, how may I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Mr. Kuznia up in Room 1121, I need half a lemon-meringue pie and a fifth of vodka." Jax silently added, because even beer can't get that taste out of my mouth. Holy damn.

  “Right away, sir. Be up in forty-five minutes or less.”

  *****

  It was a rapid week for Jaxson in Japan, signing the last paperwork for the contract, and touring the facilities with Donny where they’d be conducting the ten week training course. Borrowing heavily from the Marine Corps’ Close Quarters Battle course, it would form the first phase of training. This would not be like in boot camp with drill instructors physically destroying a recruit’s body all day long. Rather, they would be grading the recruits on how well they handled themselves in urban shoot houses and simulated gunfights. If you couldn’t handle such an environment, you had no business being in security.

  Kikuchi had agreed with all of this, as had the board of directors. It would keep the security force, to be called the Genyosha or “Black Ocean”, competent, and remove the chances that it could be abused for favoritism’s sake.

  On a quiet Wednesday morning, Jax had marched the whole class of recruits into a dockside warehouse. All sixteen Banshees plus Donny were standing easy outside of a mocked up building. Jax pointed at them as he spoke.

  “These men are your instructors. They don’t look like much, do they?”

  The class had quickly agreed. There seemed to be nothing professional at all about these ‘instructors’. They were a motley looking collection of men with beards, tattoos, ripped jeans, and rock concert shirts or tank tops. The only uniform thing about them was that each man wore a GoPro, the camera attached on a band around his head.

  Jax directed the class’s attention to a massive projector screen. The view on it showed their instructors, still lounging around with cigarettes in their mouths or playing on their phones. Suddenly an alarm klaxon wailed. Instantly the instructors pulled concealed guns out from all over their persons. A stopwatch was ticking on the screen. At three seconds, they were forming two eight man stacks and making entry through the doors of the building. Now the camera view switched to feeds from the shooters as they cleared several rooms, identifying and shooting targets. The timer continued to count upwards but at thirty-four seconds and seven hundredths, Banshee reemerged, having swept the whole building.

  The recruits stared at them in awe. “To any casual observer, these men are nothing more than gaijin barbarians. Nobody could’ve predicted the weapons they were carrying, or how good they are with them,” Jax announced. “They will teach you to be that good. Pay strict attention to them and you will earn the right to call yourself a Genyosha. Rockstar, they’re yours.”

  These recruits will be just fine, Jax told himself as he and the Board of Directors left the site. For all that he was a hellion, Donny Seth was one of the two certified CQB instructors Jax had on his payroll, and for good reason—Donny could train men. He had proven his worth in the house fighting around Nawa, Afghanistan. Most of the Banshees came from the squad he’d led, and they were fiercely loyal to him for all that he had done to ensure their survival.

  Besides, it’ll be good for him, Jax decided. Keep him out of trouble and working hard.

  *****

  On Thursday morning, Jax landed in Honolulu Airport to a text message from Kehau, directing him over to the long-term lot. There he found his truck waiting for him, with a note taped to the steering wheel. It’s my turn to pick where we go. Pick me up at eight, don't be late and dress sexy. The brilliant red lipstick print at the bottom closed it all off, and for a moment, he even smelled her perfume.

  “Well, this is a pleasant surpris
e,” Jax spoke out loud. “I can get at least five hours sleep if I get home now.” Turning the engine over, he pulled out of the airport and hopped on the H1 freeway. Wonder what she’s got planned? he mused.

  After much needed sleep and with five seconds to spare, Jax rapped his knuckles twice on Kehau’s door. Going only by Kehau’s instructions, he’d done some guessing. A white, western cut dress shirt with silver needlework, a black vest, black Wrangler dress pants, and his trademark motorcycle boots. Carli opened the door, giving him a onceover appraisal.

  “Is that Jax?” He heard Kehau call from upstairs.

  “Nope. There’s nobody here. Absolutely nothing to see,” Carli replied emphatically.

  Kehau swept down the stairs in a skintight black dress that clung to her curves as if it had been spray painted on to her skin. Sleeveless and strapless, it seemed barely able to contain her lush figure. The sequin shimmered in the light as she moved toward him. Her hair was done up in a bun, tied with black ribbon. The whole effect was… Dominating. It left so little to the imagination, yet dared the onlooker to challenge her authority.

  “Ready to go dancing, Johnny Rocket?” she asked him seductively.

  “More than you know, pretty baby.”

  The directions Kehau gave him led to a private new dance club on the Strip, Green Pearl Club. He’d heard about it only in whispers. The owners intended for it to be exclusive, with membership acquired only through invitation. So how did Kehau get us in? he wondered. When they got to the door, for which there was no line, she slipped a bracelet over his wrist.

  “They’ll scan us through” she told him. “Reggie is very particular about privacy.”

  “Reggie as in Reginald Campbell III, the same one who owns this place?” Jax asked.

  “Yes. I taught him and his wife how to dance before their wedding. When the club opened, he gave me two lifetime memberships.”

  “I’m impressed,” Jax told her.

  Within, the club was a brilliant display of lasers and black lights pulsating in time with music that was loud enough to hear, yet not so loud as to be deafening. Three stories tall on the inside, he could see go-go dancers working their way up the stainless steel poles that ran up to the Plexiglas dome between the second and third stories.

  “C’mon!” Kehau eagerly took him by the hand and led him down a flight of stairs to the dance floor. She began to sway hypnotically, moving to the rhythm. He followed behind her, letting her lead as the music carried them away.

  The whole night seemed to pass by in a gyrating, spinning dervish of noise. At some point Kehau announced she was thirsty, motioning toward a bar just off the dance floor. Checking his watch, Jax was surprised to note that only a few hours had passed and it was not quite midnight. Pulling Kehau close, they made their way through the crowd to the bar. Jax was still in a daze from watching her move with such sinuous grace. As he leaned against the bar, she signaled for drinks.

  “What’re you drinking tonight, sir?” a sharply dressed bartender asked politely.

  “Monster Ultra Black. With a lime. No ice.”

  “And for you, ma’am?”

  “Long Island Iced Tea please.”

  Silence reigned between them. Jax was unsure of what to say for the first time in a long while. Kehau exhibited such rawness in how she danced. His thoughts ran back to a book on his shelf. It was a fictional piece, and yet the author’s compelling philosophy about the human soul was written across the pages.

  A line from the book sprang to his mind then. “Dancing, by its nature, is a sensuous act. That is as true for an elderly man or matron, creaking and waddling their way through sober paces, as it is for anyone. But there is nothing quite as sensuous, dancing, as a young woman as agile as she is beautiful.” Dancing like she does, it’s the door to her soul, he realized.

  Jax had danced before, with other women. But never one who stirred such fiery desire within his heart. Does she have any idea how badly this turns me on? Woman, I would take you right here if I thought I could get away with it!

  She must have sensed his thoughts then, for she polished off the rest of her cocktail in a smooth motion and set the glass down on the hardwood countertop then turned and ran a kiss up his neck from his collar to the lobe of his ear. Jax felt his whole body go rigid as she did so and he struggled to suppress a groan of desire. Then she spun away, slowly sashaying back toward the dance floor.

  Jax wanted to move, though he felt rooted to the spot. Watching her lithe, tan body move and shift beneath the tight black dress held its own erotic beauty. Kehau stood in the center, untying the ribbon that held her bun in place before she shook her head and let the whole mane of dark hair fall down in all its glory. She held his attention more surely than if he’d been handcuffed to a bed and she had been standing over him with a riding crop in hand.

  Kehau whipped her head around as she began to twist and move in time with the beat. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, drawing every eye in the place like iron filings to a magnetic lodestone. Before he knew it, she was directly in front of him once more, acting utterly oblivious to all of the attention she was receiving. Then she sat down across his lap and kissed him hard on the lips. Jax was only dimly aware of the cheers and shouting that drowned out the music for a moment. As her tongue darted in and out his mouth, another sentence from that same book ran through his mind: “The sensuousness of that dance, the sheer sexuality of it, was not a taunt. It was a promise, and a pledge, most of all, nothing but her own desire.”

  Woman, do you know how you so perfectly capture the desires of my heart? he wondered in admiration.

  Kehau released his lips, running hers across his cheek to his other ear. “Tell me something, Johnny Rocket?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Can you guess what I want right now?”

  “I think so.”

  Kehau ground her pelvis against his lap provocatively for a second, just to lengthen the torture. “Why don’t you walk me back to your truck, and we can see just how roomy that cab really is?” she told him in a husky whisper.

  For the time first time in years, Jax sat in the passenger seat of his truck, rather than the driver’s. It was a strange notion, one which disappeared from his mind the moment Kehau folded herself onto his lap inside the tight confines of the ‘58 Chevy pickup. Her hands ran through his hair as she aggressively lowered her lips onto his. The ferocity didn’t surprise him at all. He’d seen signs of it, and simply waited for Kehau to decide what she wanted. He certainly didn’t want to rush her. Women were like properly-smoked barbecue—if a man took his time, everything came out perfectly.

  But no barbecue ever held as much fire as the perfectly formed lips that seared their way straight to his heart. His hands began to run up her muscular legs, even as the hem of her dress rode up higher and higher. Slowly, he cupped her tense buttocks and began to massage the hamstring muscles in slow circular motions. She moaned something inarticulately and he pressed his advantage a little bit higher. Kehau arched her back, thrusting her chest forward toward him as she reacted to the pleasurable sensations brought on by the massage.

  “Why so tense, pretty baby? Somebody’d think you were busy and stressed. Or working super hard,” he said teasingly.

  She kissed him once again, causing the temperature within the cab to rise by several degrees. Jax felt his neck getting warm around the collar as she did so. Kehau bit down on his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth.

  There was a tapping on the window and both of them whipped their heads in the direction of the sound. Outside stood a uniformed HPD officer. “Hey, brah, how 'bout you go on ahead and take that mess home?”

  Johnny grinned sheepishly as Kehau blushed a deep scarlet. “Sure thing, officer.” He took the opportunity to slide out from under Kehau and into the driver’s seat. “Let's do like the nice gentleman says and get on home.” He waited a moment for her to settle into the shotgun seat beside him, then put the truck in drive and turned his wheel
s westward. After all, the night was still young, and they might as well explore a little.

  “Can we listen to some music?” Kehau asked, her long legs on display as she rested her feet on the dash against the passenger door pillar.

  “Of course” Jax replied. Tapping the touchscreen built into the dash with his free hand, the sound of steel guitars and fiddles filled the cab.

  “Country music?”

  “Yup. Figured we needed a break from Nicki Minaj and techno.”

  “I suppose so.” Kehau suddenly yawned, covering her mouth in embarrassment.

  “Feeling sleepy, Cinderella?”

  “A little.”

  “Well, what’s say we go find a quiet beach to relax on and enjoy the night?”

  “I like that idea.” She snuggled in closer to him, and he drove through the night, content.

  *****

  By dawn’s early light, Jax quietly slipped out of the house and hopped in his truck. He wanted doughnuts at a minimum. Or some cupcakes. Maybe a cookie or two if he still had room. Baked desserts were his Kryptonite, and though he loved Kehau, he needed a break from really bad cookies. Five minutes on Google led to this bakery on a side street in Kailua town. He could smell warm bread and spices as he climbed out of his truck. And that is a very good sign.

  Begley’s Bakery, the gaily painted sign proclaimed. He strode through the door to see a tall redheaded woman working busily kneading a large ball of dough.

  “Good morning, how can I help you?”

  “I was thinking of some doughnuts this morning.”

  “Sanford, can you come help this gentleman please?”

  An equally tall goateed man in a brilliant aloha print shirt came out from the back and assisted him in selecting a half dozen doughnuts and a box of doughnut holes.

  “So what brings you around here this morning?” Sanford asked him as Jax paid at the register.

  “My girlfriend can't bake for crap. And I need a break from burnt cookies. Love her dearly, but I can't eat briquettes.”

  “Ouch, that's rough. Hopefully these’ll fill you up.”

  “Appreciate it. Y'all folks have a good day.” And like that he was gone again.