by Lane Hart
"Then why the hell would you want to marry him?"
Because my dad told me to. Is that the best reason I’ve got?
"I don't know. I don't think I want to anymore," I admit.
"Well good for you, I guess." Jude smirks. "So that only leaves one small problem."
"Big problem."
"But the rule doesn't apply after he's no longer your client, right?"
"I don't know. I guess not."
"Then why not let someone else take over his case?" he asks.
"I want to be the one to try it. That is, if he'll still let me."
"But you want to try him, too." He laughs.
"Yeah, and he literally just slammed a door in my face when I took my shirt off."
"Wow. That was maybe the stupidest decision of his life," Jude says with a shake of his head.
…
We spend most of Saturday out on the beach. Jax and Jude went off together and ran what seemed like the entire New Jersey coast for their cardio workout. All I know is that they came back with sweat cascading over the rippling muscles of their bare chests, down to their nylon shorts.
When they left things were somewhat tense between the brothers, but when they returned they seemed back to their normal, playful selves. Well, as playful as Jax gets. I was relieved since I didn't want to be the cause of any sort of bad feelings between the two. Despite what Jax may think, I don't want his younger brother. Last night I just wanted to make him jealous, to take a little of the sting away from his flat out rejection of sleeping with me.
The guys are ready to hit the water after running their marathon and insist I join them. My pale skin is starting to get toasty, and although I enjoy their father's company from his seat next to me, I've missed the brothers' bantering.
"So how was your run?" I ask them as we waded into the water up to our knees.
"It was good," Jude answers, smiling behind his dark shades so I can't see his eyes. "We only got stopped, what was it Jax, maybe a dozen times or so by skanks?"
There was no ignoring the boulder of jealousy hitting the bottom of my stomach.
"Two dozen." Jax chuckles from the other side of me.
"So, Page, what are you up to tonight?" Jude asks, after a good size wave crashes against us at waist level.
"Nothing that I know of," I reply.
"You should come with us to see the fights," he replies.
"Fights?" I ask.
"Yeah. In the Xanadu Theater, the one at the back of the hotel? It starts at eight. There's only one for a title, but there are ten other fights on the card. It'll give you a chance to see up close and personal what we do," Jude tells me.
"Sure, sounds fun," I say. "If you guys don't mind me tagging along."
"I could probably use your security services to run off the cage cunts," Jax teases, the first words he's spoken to me since I made a fool of myself last night.
"Maybe I could get some of that yellow ‘Caution’ police tape to form a circle around you. Although, it'll probably take some big bouncers to handle that sort of job," I joke. About that time a wave breaks right in my face before I can turn my head away. I end up spitting out a mouthful of salty sea water. Yuck.
"You okay?" Jude laughs. "It's easier if you dive underneath the waves instead of taking them on face first."
Jax must follow the same advice, because he surfaces a good distance away from us in the calm part of the ocean. He swipes a hand through his dark hair, pushing it off his face as he turns around and looks for us. The motion makes the muscles in his chest and arm flex in the sunshine. God he looks freaking edible.
"We talked about you," Jude says, lowering his voice.
"What about me?" I ask, although I can probably guess. The embarrassment I caused myself yesterday.
"He wants you-"
I scoff.
"He does, and for the first time in his life he's actually making the decision to not carelessly fuck a woman."
"Yay me," I say, pumping both of my fists in the air.
"Because this time he cares. He doesn't want you to lose your law license because of him."
God, of course he's right. No stupid, silly fling is worth what I worked years in school for. But what's the harm when it's just us in the privacy of a hotel room?
"I also think he's scared," Jude says before ducking under a wave that splatters across my nose and mouth.
"Of what?" I sputter when he resurfaces.
"That you're more than a one-night stand, which is unheard of for him."
"Why are you telling me all this, Jude?" I ask in exasperation.
"Because all it will take is another little push or two from you and he'll break. According to him, he hasn't fucked anyone in like two weeks. That's ten times as long as his previous record. Flash a little tit and ass, flirt with him. Hell, flirt with other dudes and I guarantee he's gonna snap."
"So you're saying I should keep making a fool of myself?"
"You're not making a fool of yourself. If he wasn't attracted to you and you kept at it that would be sort of sad. But I'm telling you, Page, he's more fragile than glass when it comes to giving into you."
"Well, here goes nothing," I say to Jude with a smile when we finally reach Jax.
…
Jax
I watch as Jude and Page take their sweet ass time getting through the waves. Despite Jude's assurance this morning that there's nothing going on with him and her, I can't help that familiar jealousy from rearing its ugly head.
"It's nice out here," Page says when she's only a few feet away. She's close enough that I can see her bikini through the murky chest-deep water, a skimpy purple one today.
Jude goes into back floating mode, which is easy to do here where the water's calm.
Page ducks all the way under the water and surfaces, adjusting the cups of her bikini. Her hair is braided in two ponytails today, and rather than make her look young and innocent she's so fucking hot she could be posing for a goddamn Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. My cock is throbbing painfully under my thin board-shorts. It's been so long for me, and she is just so fucking sexy.
I'm lost in my own head imagining running my tongue down her wet neck and in between her heavy tits when I'm hit with a face full of gritty saltwater. I swipe my palm over my face and look up to find Page laughing. I've been dying to get my hands on her, and she might as well have just sent me an invitation.
"You can swim, right, rich girl?" I ask her.
"Yes. I mean no. No, I can't." She shakes her head and lies unconvincingly while backing away.
I dive into the five feet of water and jerk her legs out from under her, pulling her down until her ass hits the sandy ocean floor. Page's hands shoot out, reaching for something to hold on to and finding my shoulders. She squirms and fights for a few seconds, pushing against me until she's back on her feet again.
When I resurface I expect her to look pissed. Instead she's actually smiling as she wipes the water from her eyes. I know it's a bad idea, and that I'm playing with fire, but I can't resist this. Flirting with her. Touching her. I'm a goner.
I lurch forward, scooping Page up in my arms. "Hey, Jude. Catch," I yell to him and then toss her in his direction. She lands with a squeal and a big splash right in front of him. Before she can get to her feet Jude grabs her up and throws her back to me. She lands with such force on this fall that the back of her bikini comes untied. Two triangles of purple fabric float to the surface of the murky water, leaving her bare breasts behind. Now all that holds her top on is the strings tied at her neck.
I jump in front of Page, blocking Jude's view, as well as anyone else who happens to be watching from the shore before she flashes them. I'm only a foot away from her and can clearly see the outline of her pale titties even through the distorted reflection of the water. God I'd give anything to reach out and touch them. My hands would only need to move forward just a little bit. Oh, but then my mouth would be jealous and need a taste.
; "Um, Page?" I say, unable to look away.
"What you jerk?" she asks with a teasing tone.
"Your top," I tell her.
She glances down and gasps before submerging herself lower into the water.
Why did I tell her? Oh yeah, because it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and I didn't want her flashing the entire Jersey shore.
"Crap! Will you retie it for me?" she asks, spinning around and presenting her back to me.
I reach for the two floating strings, and unfortunately, tug them back into a bow for her.
"Thanks," she says, swimming away out to sea like she's embarrassed. Honestly it's not much more than what she showed me last night when she took her shirt off in her room.
"No one saw anything," I assure her.
"Saw what?" Jude asks when he swims closer.
"My top came undone," Page tells him.
"Well damn. How the hell did I miss that?" he whines.
Page shakes her head and flashes me a smile as she swims backwards. She stops suddenly, belting out a scream before yelling, "Son of a bitch!"
Since the woman never curses it must be something bad. She starts swimming frantically back toward me and Jude. "Go back! Watch out! Fucking jellyfish!"
Oh shit! She must've been stung by one of the bastards.
"Where did it get you?" I ask when she makes it back to us, her face scrunched in pain.
"Lower back...and leg," she says between pants.
"Is it bad?" I ask, although I know it's a stupid question as soon as it leaves my mouth.
"God yes."
"Are the tentacles still stuck in you?" Jude asks. I have no idea what the hell he's talking about. He must've seen some shit about jellyfish on the Discovery Channel or something.
"I don't know!" Page exclaims. "I can't see it!"
"She probably needs to go to an urgent care and get checked out," he says to me as we head back to the shore. "You gonna take her?"
"Damn right," I respond to his question, making it clear that I'll take care of her and we don't need his help.
"Hey, I don't need to see a doctor! I'm fine. It's just a little burn," she says, and then she stumbles in the knee high waves, worse than when she was drinking the night before. "Okay a lot of burn, but I'm sure it'll stop hurting in a few minutes."
Jude and I exchange a look that says we're not convinced. I start to reach for Page to pick her up but want to avoid the area that's hurting. "Which side is the sting on?" I ask.
"Um, the right. Why?" she asks. Instead of answering, I simply show her by grabbing her up on the left side with an arm under her knees and the other around her upper back.
"Ow!" Page says with a wince.
"Did I hurt you?" I ask her.
"No, it just...hurts."
"You're not going to bitch and tell me to put you down because you can walk?" I ask her, as I head to where we've set up camp on the shore and my dad is still sitting.
Page shakes her head no, and then surprises me when she snakes her arms tightly around my neck to hold on.
"Damn, then you must be in serious pain."
"It's better now," she says, and when I glance down she's smiling up at me, her face only inches away from mine.
"Jude, did she really get stung?" I tease, holding her bottom up higher for him to examine her back and leg.
"Goddamn!" he mutters. "That looks like hell, Page."
"Yeah, and it feels like it, too, thank you very much," she replies, actually sticking her tongue out at me.
"Apparently it also makes you act like a five-year-old," I joke when we make it back to our chairs and towels. "Or maybe that's your braids."
"Here," my dad stands up from his lounge chair, grabs my black Baltimore Ravens hat from my pile of things, and says, "If you're going to touch her, at least try not to be so damn obvious."
I bend my knees, so he can put it on my head, and then he slides my dark sunglasses on my face.
"Good thing you don't have any distinguishable tattoos to give your identity away," Page says, eyeing my chest closely like there might be a microscopic one hidden that she's somehow missed.
"Not a one. I'm scared of needles," I tell her honestly, making her laugh. "And that information better remain attorney-client privileged."
"You could easily kill a man with your bare hands, but tiny little needles scare you?" she asks with a smile. Just the thought of the damn instruments makes me shiver.
Once Page is handed her beach bag and my wallet's thrown inside it, I slip on my flip flops and we start heading to the front of the hotel. I'm pretty sure there's an urgent care just right down the road. Doubt we'll even need a taxi.
"So what else are you scared of, tough guy?" Page asks after I carry her a few minutes in silence.
I debate whether or not to admit my other fear. But when I look down at her warm, cobalt blue eyes I know I'd confess anything to this woman. Well, almost anything. I sure as hell can't tell her that I want her too.
"I'm claustrophobic," I tell her. "I can tolerate elevators as long as they're well ventilated, you know, not hot and stuffy. But if it's only a few flights, I'd rather take the stairs. Nothing worse that tiny boxes being held by a fucking string."
"Oh God. I'm sorry, Jax," she says in understanding, burying her face in my neck. I'd almost swear I felt her lips press against my skin. The woman is trying her best to break me. "Was it really bad? Those days you were in jail?" she asks.
I shrug, refusing to admit I'd freaked out like a pussy. "The county lock up back home wasn't so bad, but the one here? Nasty and hot as fuck. Instead of sleeping on a mat laid out on the grungy floor I slept standing up against the wall all night. Well, what little I did sleep. Thankfully I was only there for one night and my dad posted my bond the next morning."
"No wonder you were so angry that afternoon," she says softly, and I assume she means the day we met. "And you really don't want to go back, do you?" she asks as I cross a street, now only a block away from the urgent care on the corner.
"Fuck no I don't. That's why I've got an incredibly smart and very expensive attorney."
"What if I let you down? Maybe we should bring someone else on until Ryan's trial finishes up. He said he could be tied up a few more weeks."
"You're not going to let me down," I tell her, and watch as she chews on her bottom lip with unnecessary worry. "That's maybe the only thing in my life that I'm actually certain of."
"But-" she starts.
"But nothing," I interrupt her, and then pull open the door to the clinic. I carry Page in and sit her down in a plastic chair while I go to the front desk to check her in.
"Hi," the young woman in scrubs says to me with a smile while blatantly ogling me. I've kept my glasses and hat on to cover at least part of my face. "We normally require shirts, but I think we can make an exception to that policy for you."
"Ah, thanks. We were just out swimming in the ocean when she got stung by a jellyfish," I explain, nodding over to Page.
"Oh," the nurse says, her facing falling when she sees the beautiful woman I just carried in. "She'll need to fill out these forms, and then the doctor should be able to see you soon."
"Thanks," I say, accepting her offered clipboard that holds a stack of papers and has a pen attached with a metal string.
"Here, they need you to fill all this out," I tell Page, handing it off to her.
She nods and takes the forms to start completing them. I look over her shoulder and see that her birthday is December twentieth, which is about the crappiest time for one. She's allergic to penicillin and mold. She had her tonsils taken out when she was eight-years-old, and she takes anti-anxiety and antidepressant medications every day. So she really has been diagnosed as being high strung. Once she checks all the little boxes and signs her name fifteen times I take the forms back to the lady at the front, and then we wait.
Every few minutes Page continues to wince like she's in pain while we sit in the hard plastic chairs. I'm abou
t to go bitch about them taking forever when they finally call her back. As soon as I stand up beside her, she holds out her palm. "I'm pretty sure I can walk that far."
I motion for her to go for it, walking slowly behind her. It's the first chance I've had to get a good look at her sting, and it's something else. Red wavy whelps cover a section of her lower back and around her side, with more of the same under her right butt cheek, that yes, I also checked out. Damn. No wonder she's in pain.
After they confirm with her that she doesn't mind me tagging along, they check her blood pressure, which is a little high at one-twenty-eight over ninety. The nurse assures us it’s probably due to the pain. Page's temperature is normal, and she weighs a hundred and twenty-six pounds.
Page lays flat on her stomach on the exam table after the nurse leaves us alone in a room. With nothing but her tiny strings holding up her top, and the small triangle covering her perfectly curved ass, I'm about to lose my shit. I sit down in the plastic chair and apply pressure to my rising cock, doing more harm than good. Now it's just springing back up looking for more attention.
Unable to take the temptation any longer, I jump out of my seat. Under the pretense of looking at her injury I stand right beside her ass and trail my fingertips along the sting imprints, careful not to actually touch them. Page squirms and cold chill bumps raise under the tips of my fingers. "Cold?" I ask her.
"No," she replies. She doesn't tell me to stop touching her, so I don't. Hell, I know she wants my hands on her, and it's a goddamn shame I can't take things further. Well, maybe a little further won't hurt anything.
...
Page
Oh for the love of all that is holy, what is that man doing? I mean, not that I want him to stop. I'm barely suppressing my groans because the skin to skin contact feels so good, but I'd also like to know what the heck he's doing. Is this what Jude meant? That I'm finally wearing him down?
Jax has been acting differently today. Not in the weird, this is awkward because I turned you down way either. No, it's more like a sensitive side to him I've never experienced. And I was shocked to find out that this normally tough, arrogant, angry man is scared of needles and small spaces. Now I have even more motivation to make sure he's not found guilty by a jury so that he won't get an active prison sentence.