by Amy Gamet
Plus the man didn’t talk. It was painful to get him to engage in any kind of conversation, so she’d worried over how she was going to get him up here.
She needn’t have bothered.
He took a step toward her and she jumped a little, the cold and her nerves jangling up inside her. Then his massive hands were on her upper arms, nearly reaching all the way around to meet at the other side, warmer than she wanted them to be.
She was standing ramrod straight, fear holding her still. This was Jax, the man who’d been the sole focus of her hatred for two solid years, and she was going to have sex with him? What the hell had she been thinking? She shimmied her shoulders, wiggling away from his hands, and he let her go.
“This was a bad idea,” she said. Tears were beginning to collect in the backs of her eyes, and she made a conscious effort to keep them there. “I don’t know what I was thinking coming here.”
She thought of the child she so wanted to carry. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t do this, not even for you.
“It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not okay.” Maybe she should have had more alcohol. She hadn’t even finished one glass. She walked backwards toward the door.
“You blame me for Ralph’s death.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
He walked toward her. “You blame me for his death, and you can’t be with me because you think you’d be betraying your husband.”
“I need to go.”
“But you can feel how much I want you, how desperate I am to touch you, and you need to be wanted like that again, touched by hands that long to stroke your skin, feel the weight of a man on top of you, holding you down.”
Her chin came up slowly, his words resonating inside her, vibrating down into her secret places and making her come alive. She did want those things. She needed to feel like a desirable woman, needed to be with a man.
But this man?
“You need to feel like a woman again, even if it’s just for one night.” He closed the distance between them. “I can do that for you, Jessa. I want to do that for you.” He took her hand, the thick, strong fingers welcoming and warm.
Human touch.
It had been so long.
Her eyes drifted closed. The sensation of connecting with him like this in the dark was dizzying, terrifying. He trailed his other hand up her other arm, his nails skimming her flesh, and she took a small step toward him, her eyes still closed. Her head lifted as if on a string.
He kissed her, his lips light and gossamer on her mouth. The scent of alcohol was dangerous and new, and she opened her mouth to taste him. His hand clenched her upper arm and she felt the strength in his grip. A steady beat began to pulse between her legs, her jeans tight against her there as she began to swell with desire.
You can’t enjoy this. This isn’t about sex, it’s about revenge.
But he deepened their kiss, forcing her to open herself to him more, commanding her mouth to give and receive pleasure, and she hovered on the brink of fighting him or giving in.
Her chance to change her mind was quickly passing her by. Her skin was hot and her traitorous body was desperate for this connection, egging her on and ramping up her desire even as her mind worked to tamp it back down.
Her eyes popped open as Jax kissed down her neck, the smallest cry escaping from deep in her chest as he sucked lightly on her skin. She pushed his body away.
“It’s okay to enjoy another man’s body, Jessa.”
No, it’s not.
She wanted to cry. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t contain the experience in some little box forged of hatred and steel. Sex was too personal, too important to her, and she’d forgotten how damn good it could feel. She couldn’t let Jax be the one to bring passion back into her life.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Because you don’t want to be here, or because you do?”
He walked backwards, his eyes never leaving hers as he pulled her toward the bed, then sat down on its edge and pulled her onto his lap.
His hands rubbed her legs, her hips, and held her tightly against him as he kissed her, his mouth demanding a response.
When she hesitated, he pulled the covers back and dragged her beneath them. He wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her tightly against him with a growl, his erection pressing into her upper abdomen. It felt good, so good to be wanted like this, but she held back, unable to respond to him any more than she already had.
Then something changed.
Jax slowed down.
His kisses were now focused on her skin instead of her mouth, his hands massaging and scraping and slipping against her overly sensitized body. Every touch was like an assault on her good judgment, making her long to respond to him even more, and he wasn’t even touching her most intimate places.
God, if he did that, she would be lost…
His mouth moved back to hers, lightly kissing and cajoling her response, his tongue exploring and tasting.
“Kiss me, Jessa,” he ground out against her mouth. “Kiss me and I’ll take off your shirt and touch you there.” She imagined his hands on her breasts, her nipples, his talented mouth lapping at her peaks. She wanted it so badly she was powerless to deny herself.
The slightest sob escaped her as she kissed him back, her tongue reaching into his mouth, and the kiss exploded with fiery passion. He fitted his body between her legs and ground against her swollen sex, making her moan with pleasure.
The sound of her response was brazen, making her freeze up. This wasn’t what she’d bargained for and was quickly getting out of control. Jax’s hands were slipping up under her slinky top and lifting it over her head, and she covered her breasts with her arms despite her longing for his touch.
Jax braced himself on his arms and looked down at her.
What did he see? Was it fear or desire?
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
She forced her arms back down to her sides. “No.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“Roll over.”
She shot him a questioning look, but he only helped to flip her over. He sat on top of her legs, just below her derriere, and began to stroke her back.
If his kisses and earlier touch had felt good, she was unprepared for the sensation of his hands on her back. It had been years since someone had touched her this way, years since she’d received physical pleasure from another human being, and she nearly purred out loud.
She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her bottom through their jeans, but he took his time with her neck and shoulders, the muscles that lined her spine and the hungry flesh spread out before him.
Her excitement was growing, no matter that she didn’t want it to, and she pressed her hips into the mattress to keep from arching her back in blatant invitation.
But Jax had started a fire and she was powerless to control it. Every touch of his hands was its own temptation, the movements of her body totally bound to his orchestration.
When Jax reached around her and unbuttoned her jeans, she eagerly helped him pull them from her body, grateful her face was pressed against the mattress so he couldn’t see the desire flushing her face and chest. She was squirming beneath him now, her body desperate for his and her legs spreading apart.
There was no denying her excitement, no way to prevent her pleasure, and she gave in to the sensation when Jax stroked her bottom and caught the strings of her thong, pulling it up and deeper into her crevice.
She cried out.
“You like that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He pressed his bare cock against her bottom. “You know how good it’s going to feel when I’m inside you?”
His words made her pelvis curl toward her abdomen.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded, and she did as she was told, her back arching so that her ass went high in the air, exposing herself to
him, the thin fuchsia panties the only barrier between their bodies.
Jax squeezed her cheeks in his hands, kneading the thick flesh and whispering reverent praise. He traced the line between the folds of her sex with one skillful finger, lightly settling on the bud hidden between them.
She wanted him to fuck her and get it over with, not draw it out like this and make her beg for him. But begging she was as he deftly teased her clitoris while pressing himself against her most sensitive places.
“Please, Jax.”
“Please, what?”
“I need you inside me.”
He cursed under his breath. “Roll over.”
If she didn’t face him, she could keep some semblance of herself away from him. “No. I want you like this.”
“I want to see you.”
She was nearly there, the finish line in sight, so she did as he asked, surprised by the size and breadth of his glistening cock, standing at attention.
He was bigger than her husband — the only other man she’d been with — and she wondered if he would hurt her. She let her eyes take in the rest of his body, so different from Ralph’s.
Where her husband’s muscles had been defined and trim, Jax’s were big and bulging. He bent over her, nuzzling her neck, and her eyes closed once more. Then he was moving lower, taking her breast in his hand and squeezing it to a point before taking the whole of her nipple and areola into his mouth and sucking.
It was worse than she’d feared, pleasure searing through her, white hot and bright. The sensation overwhelmed her and she thrust her hips into his chest, bucking against him there while he suckled her harder.
“Please, Jax. I’m ready.”
Had she ever been loved like this? Aroused to the point where she was begging for penetration, desperate for sexual release?
He moved lower, settling himself between her legs, and she was panting hard and heavy, knowing what he was going to do before his mouth settled over her secret place and she began the climb to orgasm.
She didn’t want him to do this. It wasn’t necessary to get pregnant, and she wanted only to do what was necessary.
“I want you inside me when I come, Jax.”
He growled as he climbed on top of her, then tested his weight against her smaller frame. The feel of him was so good she could have cried. How she missed this! He wasn’t even inside of her yet, and she was emotionally swamped by the return of these sensations after so much time without them.
He pressed the head of his cock beside her opening, and for a moment she thought she wouldn’t have to deceive him. The slightest movement and he’d be inside her.
“You’re so wet for me.” He groaned. He was pushing hard against her, teasing her, so close to her entrance. “I need to get a condom.”
She tightened her legs around his waist. “It’s okay.”
He was panting with the exertion of holding back. “What do you mean?”
She feared all of her anxiety and hopeful planning had been for nothing. She was right in the middle of her cycle, all the signs of her fertility clearly visible yesterday and today, but she needed to have unprotected sex with this man.
A risky thing to do, especially for a man who didn’t like to take chances.
She held her breath, then reached between them, guiding his cock into her body with her hand. He thrust inside her with one long push, and they gasped with pleasure as he filled her.
He pulled out and thrust into her again, his cock stretching and stroking her tender flesh, and her physical joy mixed with her hope for a child.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” he ground out.
She dug her nails into his back. “Yes.”
“Jesus.” He was breathing hard, pumping into her with hard strokes, forcing himself deeper inside her. “Do you want me to pull out?”
“No.”
Please no.
She swallowed her fear. “Come inside me, Jax. I want you to.”
It was like she hit a secret booster button in a video game. He let loose with a loud growl, the force of his thrusts instantly putting her on course for an orgasm.
The noises Jax made changed dramatically, and she knew he was beyond holding back. He thrust into her again and again, and she held her breath as her climax overtook her. Jax called out, buried to the hilt inside her body, and she smiled into the darkness as he came.
It was only when the aftershocks had stopped rippling through her that she again noticed the rumbling of the hotel air conditioner, the bitterly cold air in the room, and the uncomfortable weight of Jax on top of her.
Lust dissipated, leaving self-hatred and shame in its wake. She’d accomplished what she’d set out to do, but she hadn’t wanted to enjoy it.
Tears filled her eyes as she pushed Jax off of her, collected her clothing, and made her way to the bathroom, dressing without looking at herself in the mirror.
She knew what she would see there.
Bed-tossed hair, her face flushed from exertion and desire. Maybe a hickey to complete her humiliation. She was the worst kind of person, unable to focus on her hatred of the man when his touch felt so good. Letting him fuck her was necessary. Begging him to fuck her and experiencing the most powerful orgasm of her life was utter and complete betrayal.
She pushed out of the bathroom.
In the dim light from the window, she could see Jax sitting up in bed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m leaving now.” She walked toward the door.
“You don’t have to go, Jessa. Stay with me.”
“No thanks.” She opened the door and left, without so much as a glance in his direction.
She was never going to see Jax Andersson again.
4
The blades of the chopper roared mightily, their vibration seeming to beat in time to the rhythm of Jax’s heart. It was three in the morning and they were hugging the landscape, quickly approaching their target.
He closed his eyes, mentally preparing for the extraction. He visualized the layout of the house, the terrain he anticipated from their landing site to the backyard and French doors, where they’d be entering the home. It wasn’t a big house, but it was big enough to hold a hostage.
The husband’s voice played in Jax’s head.
You have to get her back. I don’t know who I am without her.
The poor guy was clearly still in shock, though the sentiment resonated with Jax like some kind of spiritual truth. He’d been a goddamn mess since he slept with Jessa, worse even than during his divorce. It was as if with one night together, his entire idea of who he was as a person had been bent over backwards and folded in on itself.
He was a man who liked to be alone.
He reveled in it, for God’s sake.
People were a business he didn’t invest in. These guys here — Red, Cowboy, Logan, and Hawk — were closer to him than anyone else on the planet. Hell, even when he was married to Linda he was closer to HERO Force than he was to his own damn wife, and that was just fine with him. It was natural. He was a rough, cold bastard. Calculating.
What did he have in common with a woman?
But for a moment in time, Jessa had changed all that. From the second she walked into the bar to the instant she walked out of his room, he was with her. Really with her. Like he was one of two, instead of his own person barely tethered to the human race.
He knew he was a considerate lover, always making sure he did what was necessary to give his partner pleasure, but this time he did those things because he wanted to kiss every part of her flesh and taste every hidden fold of her body, wanted to heighten her experience because his own was innately intertwined with hers.
And it had shaken him to the core.
That kind of connection didn’t just walk into a bar and ask you to sleep with it. That kind of connection was something you held on to tightly and defended at all costs.
The chopper dipped and dove. They were getting close now.
You have to get her back. I don’t know who I am without her.
He could see the path through the woods to the door in his mind’s eye, knew how this would go down up until the moment they actually entered the house. Then it was anybody’s guess. Was there one person guarding the wife, or two, or more? Did they have weapons in hand? A clear route of escape?
The wife had been taken from her kitchen two days earlier, a cutting board with half-sliced bread left staling on the counter and a toddler left watching TV. Her husband was a big-time CEO of some Fortune 500 company, and he’d made one too many enemies with his recent revitalization plan.
Her captors had requested a ransom of five point six million dollars. Instead they were going to get their own private war.
The chopper landed and Jax filed out between Hawk and Cowboy, night-vision goggles in place and an AK-47 in each of their hands. They were on a mission to retrieve Mrs. Baldwin, but it was Jessa’s face Jax imagined as they made their way to those French doors and silently slipped inside.
The faint beeping of an alarm system keypad could be heard in the distance, and Red went in search of the sound. If they could destroy the keypad before the thirty-second window passed, the alarm system probably wouldn’t go off.
The crunch of plastic and metal could be heard coming from the kitchen, followed by a piercing alarm that screeched through the house, assaulting Jax’s ears.
So much for the silent approach.
He took the stairs two at a time, Hawk and Cowboy right behind him. Shots rang out from the top of the stairway and Jax returned fire, the shadow of a man half-hidden in a doorway.
Jax wore Kevlar.
Cleary, the other guy did not. Blood splattered the wall behind his falling body.
Jax went quickly around him, knowing one of his men would disarm the tango and be sure he posed no threat. He held his weapon at the ready and cleared the first hallway in search of Mrs. Baldwin.
The incessant wail of the security alarm continued in the background as Jax cleared the first bedroom and moved on to the second.
This time, Hawk went first. He rounded the corner with his gun at the ready. A man stepped out from behind the bedroom door with a pistol, and Jax let off three rounds right into the man’s skull.