Before emotions get too heavy, I tug his waistband lower and free his cock. I hold back the “oh, my.” He’s every bit as big and perfect as I pictured. More so, even. I wrap my fingers around the thick shaft and run my hand along his length for a couple long strokes. His sharp intake of breath releases in a garbled moan as he leans back in the chair, surrendering to the moment.
I don’t waste time. I close my lips around the tip and ease farther down, jerking him off with my mouth. His fingers dig into my hair and give a slight pull. I’m not sure whether it’s his touch, his trying to stay in control, or the enjoyment of making him feel good, but I love doing this. With Devin, I never did. I waggle my tongue and flick along the inside of his tip before taking as much of him as I can. He’s too huge for me to take all of him, so I fill the gap by wrapping my fingers around the base. I reach up with my free hand and cup his balls. They squeeze tightly in the palm of my hand as if prompting me to massage them. I oblige.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”
No way am I stopping. I crave his release, the saltiness on my tongue. When he realizes my intentions, he thrusts a few more times in my mouth before letting go, and I swallow his release. His pants come sharp and quick as he eyes me with a look I’ve never seen. A click of the door handle breaks the moment. My eyes widen as panic sets in, and decoding his earlier expression goes to the wayside.
I scramble off my knees and scoot over to the futon while Jax quickly pulls his pants up.
Zach walks inside, takes one look at me, and then smiles goofily at Jax. I want to die of mortification when I take in Jax’s appearance. His waistband rides too high on his chest, unknowingly mimicking Urkel.
“Looks like someone got dressed in a hurry.”
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Jax stands to fix his pants as I want to crawl underneath the futon and hide.
“Something came up.” Zach’s hands shake as he grabs his duffle bag and shoves some clothes in. “I have to run home, but I’ll be back in the morning for practice.”
“Okay, I’ll cover in case you’re late.”
Zach nods. “Later.”
“Is he okay?” I ask when the door shuts behind him.
Jax frowns. “I don’t know. I think something must’ve happened with his parents. They’re messed up from what I gather. The only thing I’ve gotten out of him is they changed after his sister died.”
“His sister died?”
“Yeah, a twin actually. Zoe.”
Oh, no wonder he didn’t want to call me Zoe when we first met. “That’s so sad.”
“I know he comes across a little strong sometimes, but he bears a lot of their responsibilities.”
“Guess you never truly know a person.” I stare at the door for a moment before turning back to Jax. His flushed face, my rumpled hair, his pants still not adjusted right—Zach has to know what I did. His smile all but confirmed it. Heat warms my face as I rub the top of my knee.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” Jax moves to sit beside me and places his hand on top of mine; my motion stills. “Believe me, Zach has done far more.”
“I don’t know what I hate more—him walking in on us or getting interrupted.”
His eyes shift to a more predatory look, and that cute dimple I like makes an appearance. “We can pick up where we left off.”
His hand on my knee slides farther up my thigh. As he leans forward, he folds his other hand at the nape of my neck and pulls me toward him until his warm lips touch mine. What starts slow ends in a frenzied act of desperation with our hands moving, grabbing, touching all over each other’s body. It’s as if the weeks of suppressed sexual tension release at once.
In a rush, I lift my top over my head and shimmy out of my pants while he strips. The sight of me in nothing but my lace bra and underwear causes him to pause, and the soft curse that flies from his mouth makes me feel wanted. Sexy.
As he scoots me back across the futon mattress, his mouth targets my cleavage. The feel of his lips against my skin, the small flick of his tongue against the thin fabric, hardens my nipple and sends me into a euphoric-like state. I arch my back, handing my body over like a sacrificial lamb. I’m so beyond ready. All my expectations, all my anticipation, comes down to now. To this moment.
His hands work quickly to unhook the clasp and drag the material off. With all barriers gone, he cups my breast while sucking the hardened peak into his mouth. My body writhing underneath his touch, I toss back my head and groan when he slips a finger inside my opening. “Jax, I need you.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to go farther.”
“Yes, God, yes. I’m going to die if you don’t take me.”
His soft chuckles vibrate through me as he pumps his finger a few more times before withdrawing. My body convulses in protest, missing the feel of him. I remind myself something better will soon fill the void. The rip of the foil packet quickens my pulse, and a beat later, he’s between my legs, hovering above me.
He lowers his lips to mine, and this kiss is different. It’s deep, desperate, almost like a plea. With his tip positioned at my entrance, he hesitates and breaks the kiss. I look up at him, and his pensive expression holds me hostage. My heart beats wildly against my ribcage, his thoughts a constant wonder.
His fingertips swipe the loose strands of hair from my forehead. With a slight shake of his head, he whispers, “I don’t deserve you,” and then he pushes himself inside. My walls clamp around his intrusion, and he stills, letting my body adjust. We stare at each other, locked in each other’s gaze, both of us speechless. Once I’m ready, he starts moving his hips. Slowly. Teasingly. He withdraws to the edge and then rams back in me. It’s a cross between torment and gratification, keeping me right on the cusp of wanting more.
After a few moments of this blissful affliction, I’m begging. “Please, Jax.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“More. I need more of you.” What am I saying? I’ve never been this vocal in bed. Then again, I’ve never been with someone like Jax.
He increases his pace, each forward thrust burying farther. My muscles coil tighter as pressure continues to build.
I cry out, lost in the feeling.
“Wrap your legs around my back,” he orders.
I obey, and wow, what a difference the slight angle change makes. It’s deeper, more filling. I dig my nails into his back as he rocks into me. Where did he learn how to do this? Strike that thought. I don’t want to know.
“You feel good. So Goddamn good.”
I want to tell him he feels just as good, but the sounds coming from me are incoherent. He weaves his fingers through my hair as he shifts his body. I gasp as he hits a spot, the spot, inside that sends pleasurable sparks throughout my body. I come, hard. So hard that I don’t realize I leave marks on his back. I scream out his name as each pulsing jolt rocks through me. He pumps a few more times, hard and fast, as he works through his own climax.
Spent, he collapses beside me. In between pants, he asks, “How was that? List -worthy?”
Still unable to formulate a coherent sentence, I manage to say, “Mind…blown.”
He chuckles and draws me into a hug. “Plenty more to come, Dixie.”
With his arms wrapped around me, contentedness should outweigh any other emotion, but his somber mood from earlier seems to have lifted and landed on me. I just had the best sex ever, but I can’t shake loose this disconcertment.
About twenty minutes later, I’m back to blissful peace. But unlike earlier, he takes his time, and I have a feeling I’ll never be the same.
Chapter Nine
JAX
Current Day
This is a fucking awful idea. The realization hits me the moment we enter Nana’s room and her eyes land on Jocelyn. She lights up like the fans at Citizens Bank Park after Zach threw the winning ground ball that made us World Series Champions. Nana’s going to read more into my bringing a girl to visit than what this re
ally means. Although the reason I brought her is still unclear. I certainly could’ve brought the dessert myself. But I do want Nana to meet her. I wasn’t lying when I told Jocelyn that Nana may be on borrowed time. With both parents gone, I would like one family member to meet the only girl I actually like.
“Who is this lovely lady, Jaxon?” Nana rises to a sitting position. I don’t miss the grimace of pain the simple movement causes. Nana’s mind may be strong, but her body is wearing out. It fucking kills me.
“Nana, this is Jocelyn Kennedy.” I turn to Jocelyn, who’s gripping the cake container so tightly her knuckles are white. Breathe, sweetheart, breathe. I place my hand on the small of her back for reassurance. “Jocelyn, this is my grandma, Iris Danchev.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Danchev.”
“Pish-posh. Call me Nana.”
The tension Jocelyn holds seems to break, and she steps farther into the room, passing the cake to me. “Jax brought you a surprise. Happy Birthday.”
“At my age, you’d rather forget about birthdays.” Her playful tone isn’t fooling me. Nana loves when I remember her birthday. “What do we have here?”
I set the container on her bedside table and lift the white plastic lid off, revealing the beautiful biskvitena. Jocelyn really outdid herself. Nana’s eyes swell as she takes in the Bulgarian dessert. I glance over at Jocelyn, and my chest cracks at the sight of her eying Nana with the same glossy expression. Fucking awful idea.
Jocelyn’s hair sits piled in a messy bun with tendrils framing her face. Pink gloss coats her lips. Lips I remember being soft and plump and so damn kissable. Our time together was short and forever ago, but the feel of her body against mine has never left. I pull myself away and refocus on Nana, whose gaze locks on mine. I squirm as her eyes flick to Jocelyn and then back to me. The corners of her mouth lift into a knowing smirk, and I hope beyond all measure Jocelyn doesn’t take notice.
“Thanks so much for this,” Nana says as if knowing I need a reprieve. “Did you make this, my dear?”
“I did. I hope it measures up to yours. Jax tells me you are quite the cook.”
“Oh, many moons ago. It’s been a while now. Let’s try this. Jaxon, go get some plates.”
“Now, now. You have to wait. No spoiling your dinner.”
Nana laughs. Growing up, I spent many days over at Nana and Papa’s house. Dessert was a staple in her household, but she never allowed me to eat any early for fear of spoiling my dinner. She used that excuse all the time. I was a growing boy; I could eat twenty-four-seven and never get full.
“Let’s get to it then, shall we?” Her determination causes me to laugh. “My roommate’s already in the cafeteria. I’ll let her know about the dessert later.”
“Sure, Nana.” I grab her wheelchair and help her get situated. I’m not a big fan of nursing home food and make a mental promise to take Jocelyn to a better establishment.
During lunch, I take a back seat to Nana and Jocelyn’s conversation. I watch with fascination how Jocelyn explains the new job she starts on Monday. Her eyes light up as they discuss various recipes and cooking techniques. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were lifelong friends. A funny stirring develops in my stomach as I watch them with awe.
Sadness creeps through the cracks of my armor. This protection I’ve shielded myself with ever since the girl who’s charming the socks off my grandma walked away from me. The endless parade of girls I’ve been through dances through my thoughts. This pact to not get involved with anyone ever again was pure genius. Or so I thought. Now, watching Nana converse with Jocelyn, I realize what I missed out on. Not only have I denied myself, but I also denied my family. Nana. My parents. Now it’s too late. Why didn’t I fight harder for her? She clearly likes me more than that tool Carl. I could’ve won her back.
“Let’s get back to the room and eat some of that delicious-looking cake.” Nana catches my eyes as I pull them away from Jocelyn. I don’t say a word as I grab the wheelchair handles. Jocelyn walks a few steps ahead, and Nana pats me on the back of my hand, her silent way of telling me she approves.
Once we’re back to the room, Jocelyn slices the cake and serves each of us a piece. Nana sinks her mouth in for a bite, and her appreciative moan makes scouring the entire city worth it.
“Aw, honey, this is great. I never thought I’d taste this ever again. Of all the Bulgarian dishes I made, this was my favorite.”
“It was Jax’s idea. I was just the means of delivery.” Same Jocelyn. Never taking credit. “You made this plenty, huh?”
“Ah, yeah. Seems so long ago. When I met Naydem, he was new to the country and missing his homeland. It took a while, but I finally found some recipes and made him an authentic Bulgarian meal.” She pauses and smiles. “You know, the true way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. He was mine from that point on.”
She’s glossing over their relationship as she always does when she reflects. But I see it, the tiny spot of disappointment showing in her eyes. No matter how long ago, the hurt from my grandfather’s actions still flickers behind her gaze. It fucking guts me.
I was nine years old when Nana found out Papa had cheated on her. She was crushed. I remember going over to their house and seeing Nana cry. Nana never cried. She was strong and loving. I wondered where Papa was and why he wasn’t there for her. To protect her. Papa always told me it was a man’s job to protect women. So, I didn’t understand why he wasn’t there for her.
Dad wouldn’t tell me anything, and Mom was so angry all she did was grunt and mumble. It wasn’t until I overheard them talking that I understood what Papa did. Then I became angry. Nana was my world. I was nine. I couldn’t understand how he could do that to the best person on the planet. I still don’t today.
One day after school, I walked down to Nana’s house, and there he was—the traitor who made Nana cry. She forgave him that day but never spoke of it again. At least not around me. It took me a long time to warm up to Papa. One day, he took me to the side and said, “Son, I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but I love your grandma. I hope you realize how much I really do. I only hope if you’re ever faced with temptation, you’ll be a stronger man than me.”
Turns out, not so much. I may not be a cheater, but I’m not very strong at keeping the temptation at bay.
“There’s a hint of an accent. Where are you from originally?” Nana’s question mimics mine from years ago. Although when I asked it, her accent was much heavier. New York has definitely beat it out of her through the years.
“Bowling View, North Carolina.”
“Aw, pretty countryside.”
“The best.” Jocelyn’s mouth curves into a smile as her eyes take on a faraway look. “The green hills and open spaces. I miss it so much. I don’t visit nearly enough.”
“I spent a summer near Delano back in the sixties. Didn’t want to leave.”
“Delano’s beautiful countryside. There was a stream on my grandma’s property I always went to when I needed to escape. Living in the city, my kids don’t get to experience nature the way I did. Our backyard is a joke compared to what I had growing up. Heck, their swing set is practically against the fence.” Jocelyn sighs. “I fear they’re missing out.”
“You have kids?” Nana shifts her gaze to me, her expression unreadable.
“Yes, three actually. A set of twins who are five, and a two-year-old girl.”
“Sounds like a handful.”
“They are, especially since the divorce, but I manage.”
Nana’s lips tighten. I know that look. It’s a look of a thousand questions formulating in that curious mind of hers.
“It’s been over a year since her divorce, so Jocelyn’s well accustomed,” I say before Nana asks too many questions, like the reason behind their divorce. Then I steer the conversation back to a safer topic. “The kids don’t get to see your parents?”
“Not often enough. My parents visit about twice a y
ear, but my ex never liked to travel.” She lets out a huff, and I hate the guy a little more. Traveling was one of the main things she wanted to do. How could he deny her that? “I haven’t ventured out on my own yet.”
“You should take them,” Nana says. “I think they’d enjoy that.”
“It’s on my to-do list.” With a mischievous sparkle in her eye, Jocelyn slips me a knowing look. I suppress my grin, but nothing slips past Nana. Her stare all but burns the side of my face. But even with two women eying me, my thoughts go to line item number five and how I’d like an encore.
“It seems like you’ve known each other a while.” Nana directs her question to Jocelyn but shoots me a you-will-explain-later look.
“We have actually. We dated for a short time back in college, but we also have mutual friends.”
“You know, Zach and Lacey,” I say.
“Aw, yes.” Nana offers me a bemused smile before turning to Jocelyn. “Tell me, honey. What did my bonehead grandson do, since you’re not together anymore?”
My stomach lurches as a dusting of hurt coats Jocelyn’s brown eyes before she blinks and turns back to Nana. If she tells her version of the story, Nana will be so disappointed with me. In Nana’s eyes, I do no wrong. Although she did just call me a bonehead, so she suspects something, but she still sees me as a saint. That’s so far removed from the truth, it’s not even funny. But I never cheated in the capacity Jocelyn’s thinking. It’s just… I’m not as innocent as I’d like to be.
Ten years have passed and the consequences of my actions during Thanksgiving weekend haunt me today as they did back then. A huge misunderstanding that led to years of regret. And trust me, the regret of what could have been is very real.
I’m not ready to face Nana’s disappointment. Hell, I’m disappointed in myself for the both of us. My jaw clenches as Nana’s question—the equivalent of gasoline vapors—creeps inside my chest and wraps around my heart. The combustible spark? That will be Jocelyn’s answer, the ugly truth exposing my indiscretion. My weakest point that changed everything.
Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2) Page 9