by Jordan Marie
I nod, my lip twitches wanting to say something smart. However, I respond, “Something like that.”
“Okay, Jax,” she says, and I find myself laughing, something I never do.
“Everyone calls me Shaft.”
“I’m not everyone. Especially to you,” she throws my words back at me.
“That’s it baby girl. That’s it exactly,” I tell her because I can’t stop myself.
“We better go,” football jock, mutters, putting his hand on Bree’s back.
“I’ll be here to pick you up when you get out, Bree,” I tell her, and I don’t think it’s my imagination that happiness vibrates from her at my announcement.
“It’s over in three hours,” she confirms with the hint of a smile.
“But we have a date, remember? A bunch of us are going to meet up at the diner and go to—”
“I’ll be here,” I tell her interrupting the asshole who doesn’t have a shot with her. He’d bore her to tears. She needs a man. A man like me.
“Okay Jax.” She smiles and then walks away.
I don’t know what the fuck I’ve got myself into, but I’m not sure I give a damn either.
Chapter Six
Bree
“Where’s your bike?”
“The sun’s going down, you’re not dressed to ride,” Jax explains as he helps me in his truck. I settle in and I reach up to grab the seatbelt, but I’m too late. Jax already has it and he clicks me in. The snap of the seatbelt seems overly loud in the cab of the truck. I look at him and his face as he tests the seatbelt.
“I could have done that.”
“I wanted to,” he says and for a minute our eyes hold. An electric hum vibrates in the air between us.
“Okay,” I tell him, I’m not about to object. If he’s going to touch me, I’m more than okay with it. He closes the door, and a minute later he’s behind the wheel starting up the truck.
“I do like your bike, though,” I tell him.
“I don’t normally let others ride on it,” he says and immediately I worry that’s why he’s in the truck now. I shrug it off. Something passed between us before I went into my test. I know it did. I couldn’t have imagined the connection we had. I hold onto that, until we’ve been riding for at least five minutes, and he still hasn’t spoken.
“I really like your name. It’s unique,” I tell him lamely, trying to jumpstart the conversation.
Silence.
“What did you do today?” I try again.
“Work. Like most other adults,” he grumbles.
“Is something wrong, Jax?” I question. I watch as he shifts his hands on the steering wheel and the skin goes a pale white as he tightens on it. I swallow, definitely sensing a difference in the Jax now and the Jax from before.
“No,” he barks. Yeah, definitely something has changed. It makes me sad. I don’t know what I hoped for, but I definitely wanted to continue getting to know him. Now, instead of waking up parts of me I hadn’t felt before, he seems to be freezing me out.
“Okay. Could you take a right at the next light, please?”
“What for?”
“I want to meet my friends at the diner.”
“Why?”
Rolling my eyes, I repeat his question, “Why?”
“That’s what I said,” he says in a flat tone.
“Because I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day and suddenly, I’m starting to think riding home with you, isn’t the fun I thought it would be.”
“I’m supposed to take you home. Skull wouldn’t exactly like it if I dropped you off without someone watching over you.”
“I’m eighteen, not eight. I don’t need someone watching over me. Besides, my friends are there. I won’t be alone.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with that jock.” His voice raises on the word jock. Is he jealous?
“Jeff? He’s sweet.”
“He wants in your pants,” Jax growls, for a moment robbing me of my breath.
“We don’t know each other, right?” I don’t wait for a response. “Is there some reason you think you can act like my father? Because, I had one of those, and I don’t really want another one.”
“I’m trying to look out for you,” he says deflecting my question.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I shake my head before leaning it against the window. He’s so frustrating. His hot and cold is giving me whiplash.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“I have enough people looking out for me. We’re basically strangers. I don’t need someone else helping me.”
“That’s sure a different tune from earlier,” he observes. I can feel his eyes on me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of my looking at him.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I snap, as the truck pulls up to a red light.
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought…never mind. It’s not important,” I say, because as I start to form the sentence in my mind I realize it does sound stupid. I thought what? That this man I don’t know liked me? That he might want to date me? I doubt Jax has ever dated anyone in his life. Besides, I may have been sheltered from the Chrome Saints, but I’m not stupid, and I have seen enough. He’s got plenty of club women. He wouldn’t want someone like me, who doesn’t even know….
I’ve never been one for self-pity, and I’m not someone who accepts anything that makes me feel unsure of myself. My father spent his whole life making me feel less because I was a girl. I won’t have that now from anyone. Even if I’m jumping the gun with Jax—no, Shaft, even if I am being overly sensitive, it’s best if I just walk away. With that thought, I open my door with one hand while I undo my seatbelt with the other.
“Where the hell are you going?” Jax growls, grabbing my free arm before I can hop out.
“I’m going to walk to the diner,” I inform him, trying to jerk away from his firm grip. My skin flames under his touch.
“Close that fucking door.”
“Take a flying leap,” I scoff.
“Close that fucking door, Bree. I’m warning you, I won’t tell you again,” he grits through his clenched teeth.
I raise my brow at him. “Gee, Jax, what are you going to do? Tell Skull on me?”
“Spank your ass.”
My mouth falls open but closes quickly. “You did not just say that.”
“I did. Obviously, Tucker has let you run too damn wild,” he growls and maybe he would continue, but the cars blowing their horns behind us takes his attention away. The light has turned green. “Close the fucking door, Bree,” he says, and this time his voice is deadly cold. I do it out of reflex as he lets go of my arm. I let my small token of rebellion be that, and I slam the door hard enough to vibrate the whole truck. Folding my arms at my chest, I turn straight ahead, while silently vowing not to say another word to him, even though I miss his possessive touch.
“Buckle up,” he demands and though I don’t want to, I find myself obeying his command.
Chapter Seven
Jax
“What are we doing here?” Bree asks, which incidentally are the first words she’s uttered in over fifteen minutes. I understand why, I was kind of a bastard. This morning held promise and getting her to smile was like I won a fucking war. But, all day I kept going over all the reasons I shouldn’t—couldn’t touch her. When I picked her up this evening, I promised myself I would be distant, do nothing to encourage that smile, nor the stars twinkling in her eyes. That was my goal and sure as I’m sitting here, I’m about to fuck up. I can’t help it though, because I want her, and even if I can’t have her, I still want to see her smile. Her smile warmed something inside of me that I thought had been dead for a long time.
“You said you were hungry,” I tell her shutting off the truck.
“This is the wrong diner,” she grumbles.
“This is the one you’re getting.” I jump out of the truck, walk around and open her door. She hasn’t moved. She’s
looking straight ahead at the restaurant, then back at me. When she doesn’t make a move, I reach in and unbuckle her seatbelt. It’s an operation in torture being this close to her tits and not diving in head first, or maybe dick first. Fuck, those babies would wrap around my cock so fucking good. I have to shake my head and file away the image of my cum dripping down her neck, running down her breast, sliding around the nipple…
Son of a bitch, I jacked off twice this morning, and I already know when I leave Bree with Beth and Katie, I’m going to be spanking the monkey again. Christ, the woman is like walking Viagra.
Her hand comes down and clasps mine at her waist, stopping me from making sure the belt goes back without hitting her. I look up and those deep hazel eyes capture me. I watch as flakes of green sink into the brown, her pupils large and dilated. It’s then I notice her breathing has jumped. I even catch a glimpse of that pink tongue between those lips I’ve been fantasizing about.
“Jax…” she whispers, confused. I want to kiss her. Her lips are right there, ripe for the taking. My body literally shakes with the need, but I lock the urge down and contain it. I might not be able to freeze her out, but I can’t go there. I can’t…even if she wasn’t the granddaughter of the Chrome Saints, she’s in high school for Christ’s sake. Hell, it’s a wonder I don’t have a daughter her age walking around. That thought helps douse the hard-on a little. Enough so I can walk without my balls protesting at least.
“Come eat with me Bree,” I tell her, hoping I made sense, because in my head it’s her I want to eat. She nods once in agreement, and I help her down from the truck. If my hand accidentally brushes against the curve of her ass a little too long, I can’t be blamed. I’m only fucking human here.
We make it inside, and I slide in next to her at the booth. It’s nothing fancy, but their food is good. I don’t eat here often, it’s why I picked this place. Hoping no one I know sees us. Not because I’m embarrassed, I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.
The waitress takes our drink order and hands us a menu. Bree’s quiet for a bit, at least until she gets her drink. That’s when I feel her eyes narrow on me.
“You confuse me, Jax.”
“I’m pretty much a what you see is what you get kinda man,” I tell her and it’s not a lie. I always have been, at least until she walked into my world and twisted me up in knots.
“If you say so. I’ll just take chicken strips,” she says. I order her chicken and me a burger. Then I sit back and wait. I throw my hand over the back of our booth and stare straight ahead, wondering what the fuck to do now. When I hear Bree sigh I look over at her.
“If you were just going to ignore me, you could’ve just driven me straight to Beth’s. I would’ve found food there.”
“I’m not ignoring you.” I don’t offer any further explanation. Glancing around the dining room, I look at the rustic décor. A picture of John Wayne hangs on the wall under a longhorn skull.
“It sure feels like it. If you don’t like me why are you picking me up? I’m sure one of the others would have.” She fidgets with the red and white checkered napkin, unfolding the silverware.
“I told you I’d pick you up and I did. I keep my word.” My word is the one thing I have.
“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered if it’s gonna be a struggle to talk to me.”
“I can talk,” I offer. “What do you want to talk about?” I angle my body towards her, and she turns into me. The sweet smell of her hair hits me. Sitting beside her was a bad choice, but what can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Okay then. How’d you get the name Shaft?”
I go tense. “About anything but that.”
“What? Why?” she scoffs.
“You’re too young,” I answer her honestly, knowing she’ll be insulted by my choice of words.
“You heard the part where I’m eighteen right? I’m pretty sure that’s adulthood in most countries.” She rolls her eyes, and I want to bend her over my knee right here and spank her ass.
I deadpan, “I think you’re confusing that with twenty-one.”
“The right to drink has nothing to do with being an adult. I’d say I’m more adult than any twenty-one-year-old I know,” she counters smirking those thick lips at me, lips I’d love to have wrapped around my cock. I’ve got to stop thinking about her like this. Nothing good can come from it.
“You do? Tell me sweets, how many twenty-one-year-olds do you hang around with?”
“I told you, I hate that name, Jax. If you insist on using it, then I will call you Shaft. Well, that or asshole. Right now, asshole seems a better fit.”
“Damn, you can be mouthy for a kid.” The girl has sass and it makes my dick practically weep with want.
“I’m ignoring you now.” Those tempting lips screw into a pout, serving as a reminder of how old she is.
“What? Did I hurt your feelings? Pouting is not what an adult would do.”
“You really are an ass. I happen to think that your experiences, and the things that life throws at you can age you as much, if not more than years, Shaft. I grew up with Viper as my father for most of my life. That’s it, unless you count a club whore, who took pity on me. I had no one other than them, until my grandfather rescued me. So, I figure in the grand scheme of things I’m more adult than most people I know. Especially asinine bikers who think they can talk down to people and get away with it.”
“Viper was a fucking prick, I give you that. But, at least you had him. You had someone to look out for you. You have no idea how cruel the real world is. Be thankful for the hand you got dealt,” I tell her. I admit I shouldn’t say that to her. It’s a dick move, but she touched a wound I haven’t revisited in way too many years to count.
I expected her to spring back at me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Bree, she’s quick to come back at me. She doesn’t take crap, and I have to admit I like that about her. I like it more than I should. Fuck. I like every damn thing about this girl—except her age and her relatives. I could get lost in her, and I can’t. I’m too fucking old for her. She’s beauty. The real kind. The kind that goes to the very depth of the bone. The kind a man protects and feeds. The kind that makes a man sell out his own brothers to touch. Too fucking precious for a son of a bitch like me. She doesn’t come back at me though. She goes quiet, too quiet, and I’m too fucked up in the head to push it, so I let the words lie between us. I let the silence stand as a wall between us.
The waitress brings our food and Bree offers a quiet, polite thank you to the waitress. She pushes her fries around on her plate. I try to concentrate on my burger, knowing I’ve hurt her, but it’s for the best. Really…it is.
“Can you let me out? I need to go to the restroom?” she asks, her voice and face strained, making me feel like even more of an asshole. Shit, she’s gonna go in there and cry, and I have to let her. I clear my throat as I get up. I stand there watching her walk to the back where the half-broken neon sign flashes the word restrooms. When she disappears out of sight, I finally sit back down. I rub my chest where a slight pain has started. Shit, maybe I’m having a heart attack.
Chapter Eight
Bree
I hate him. How I ever thought he could be someone special I don’t know. I hate him with a passion. Leaning against the restroom door, I try to stop myself from letting the anger take over. Because, I know what will follow the anger…my tears. Tears I haven’t shed since Pops found me. Tears that I swore I would never give into again. That is what makes me hate Jax even more. I could have taken it if he was an asshole. I could have. I could have accepted it and moved on. But…he was an asshole who made me think he might be more, and that makes me want to cry. That shit hurts.
He wants me to be thankful I had my sperm donor? He has no idea the abuse and life I had with that man. It’s a story I don’t want to share with Jax. He doesn’t get that from me—not now. I have to get away from him. I can’t go back out there and let him tear me d
own. That’s out of the question. Tears are burning in my eyes, threatening to run down my face, and if I’m not able to fight them down, I sure as hell ain’t letting him see them. Letting people see your tears exposes your weakness. Viper used to love to see me cry. No one. Not one more person will ever get my tears again.
There’s a small, sketchy looking window over by the toilet. It’s tiny, but I think with some work I can maneuver through it. I go straight to it, turning the trashcan over for a makeshift stepstool, and I don’t stop pushing and wiggling till I break free. I fall, letting the pavement below catch me. Now, there’s a rip on the knee of my favorite jeans and that is all Jax’s—no Shaft’s fault. I guess I should be thankful I didn’t land in the dumpster judging by the smell out here.
I take the long way around the diner, avoiding the windows. I don’t want to take the chance that the asshole will see me. Once I get back along the main road, I breathe easier. I’m not too far from Aunt Beth and Skull’s house. I’ll have Mattah bring the kids to me and figure out how to get through the party tomorrow without seeing Shaft again. It’s a great plan. I look at my scraped palms where I caught myself when I fell, it stings, and I hope he chokes on his food.
Chapter Nine
Jax
Bree’s not coming out. It’s been nearly fifteen minutes, and I don’t care who the woman is, it doesn’t take that long to use the restroom. I should have expected a childish temper tantrum. It’s just further proof that she’s too damn young. I stalk back towards the restroom, my anger growing with each step. I pound on the door, it’s a wonder the thing doesn’t collapse.
“Alright you’ve had long enough in there. It’s time to get out,” I yell, thinking I should paddle her ass for acting like a child. Then, getting even madder when my dick jerks in my pants at the thought of spanking Bree. “Damn it! Get out here now, or I’m coming in to get you!” I bark. Maybe I should shove her up against the wall and show her what happens when she makes a man mad. “Either you get out here right now, or I’ll show you exactly how I deal with temper tantrums.”