by Jordan Marie
“Let’s fight about this later. I’d rather not be caught arguing with you beside the road with your shirt ripped open. Skull or Torch could come driving by at any time and…What in the fuck happened to your pants?” he yells, so loud my head jerks up.
I look down at my knee. There’s a little blood where I scraped it against the pavement earlier. The tear in my pants is wide enough it shows the damage.
“I fell getting out of the window at the diner.”
“Christ.” He throws his hand up and brings it down pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Just take me to Beth’s. I’ll clean up there,” I tell him, suddenly feeling tired.
“I take you to Beth and Skull’s like this, and I’m a dead man. I’ll take you to my apartment, clean you up, and find you something to wear.”
“I thought you lived at the club?” I ask confused. His place is the last place I expect him to take me.
“I do mostly. I rent a crap apartment for when I want to be alone,” he explains.
He finishes putting my seatbelt on and then slams the door walking around to his side.
I could have told him that no one was home at Beth’s, or even reminded him of my forgotten jacket laying between us on the seat, but I don’t. I want to go to his place. I want more time with him. So, I say absolutely nothing.
But inside, I’m dancing.
Chapter Thirteen
Jax
I’ve lost my damn mind. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have…but, fuck I want to do it again. Hell, I want to do more. Bringing her back to my shit apartment is the last thing I should be doing. Maybe she’ll take one look at it and realize that a forty-year-old man who has nothing isn’t someone she should ever give herself to? I don’t fucking get how two days and one episode of dry humping can have me in knots over a woman, but it’s true. She’s got me all tore up inside.
I open the door, the smell of musty carpets and dust assaults my senses at once. I reach over and flip the light. I haven’t been here in weeks. Dishes are still piled in the sink and empty pizza boxes decorate the room which doubles as a kitchen and living area combined. There’s a small hall on the left, that always serves to make me feel claustrophobic that leads to a bedroom, which is just big enough for my bed, a small chest, and a bathroom. My place is definitely nothing to write home about. Being here depresses me. Fuck, I’m a loser. This wasn’t how I saw my life playing out by the time I hit forty.
“Sit on the couch. I’ll go get some things to clean you up with,” I order, letting go of her hand now that we’re inside. I shouldn’t have been holding her hand in the first fucking place. I lock the door and walk out of the room, all without sparing her a glance. I’m not sure if it’s because if I look at her right now I’ll take her up against the wall, or if I don’t want to see the look on her face—just in case she feels sorry for me now that she sees the place I call home.
It’s not a home. I haven’t really had one of those. Ever. Hell, the Devil’s Blaze is the first time I ever felt like I had a place where I belonged, but even with that, I don’t feel like the rest of the brothers. Maybe I’m always destined to be alone.
I come back in the room and Bree is on the sofa, looking around. I don’t know what she’s thinking, it’s not showing on her face. When I get close to her she jumps slightly, before giving me a smile. There’s no pity, no judgment. Just Bree. Christ Almighty, I’m in trouble. I clear my throat trying to choke down need, wants, dreams, and the hopelessness of wishing I was twenty years younger.
“Let’s check those knees out,” I tell her, sending up a small prayer of thanks I didn’t say tits, cause they’re straining against her bra—her red silk bra, and all I want to do is face-plant right here.
“Okay,” she whispers, with a gentle smile. Why does it feel like everything about Bree is gentle, unless I push her? And I bet I could push her. How much would it take before I have her clawing into me, screaming my name? My balls are blue and my damn dick is killing me.
I lean down in front of her, getting on my knees. I move my thumb around the outside of the deepest scratches. There’s blood and dirt there that will need cleaning.
“You should be more careful, sweetness. Something like this could scar,” I warn her. Scarring her body would be a fucking sin. She’s perfection. Bree leans in closer to look at her knee. It’s probably not on purpose, but fuck her tits are so close, I could reach out and run my tongue along the valley of them.
I grab the ragged ends of the tear on her jeans on each side and rip the hole so it’s wider. I’m taking my frustration out on them, so they tear clear down to the bottom of the leg. I hear Bree’s breathy gasp. Hell, I can even feel her warmth brush softly against my hair. Before Bree, I never realized I enjoyed self-torture.
“I liked these jeans,” she says.
“I wasn’t the one jumping out of windows,” I tease.
“You drove me to it,” she confides, and when I look up at her, it feels like my fucking heart freezes. She’s smiling. Her eyes are filled with pleasure and it’s all aimed at me. Her lips are just a couple inches away. The urge to kiss her is so strong, I fucking shake from it.
“You need to learn to control your impulses. That will come with age,” I tell her like a jackass as I put a bandage over her scrapped knee. I have to put distance between us somehow. Immediately, I regret it however, when the light in her eyes dims to a dull twinkle, then nothing.
“I should be getting back. I told Beth and Katie I’d be back this evening to help with the kids while they work on last minute party things,” she says, looking across the room at a bare wall, instead of at me.
“Don’t be like that, Bree.” I take the seat next to her.
“Like what?”
“Close up on me,” I tell her, at the same time kicking myself, because this was what I wanted. I just can’t stand to see that light gone. “I’m only telling you the truth, here.”
“What was that about then?”
“That?”
Her hand waves toward the door. “What we did together? If you’re so hell bent on telling me all the reasons you shouldn’t touch me then what just happened on the side of the road?”
I frown. “Something that shouldn’t have.”
“But it did. I didn’t see you reminding me how young I was then. I didn’t see you calling a halt to it then.” She’s calling me on my shit, but I can’t change the way things are.
“I lost my head. When you toy with a man, there are consequences.”
“You’re a liar. I might be young, but at least I’m honest. You want me. Maybe as much as I want you,” she challenges me to tell her she’s wrong.
“You’re jailbait.”
She counters, “I’m eighteen.”
“You’re a world of trouble, Bree. Even if I ignored your age, being who you are makes anything impossible. Besides, I’m not the kind of man you want.”
“Why impossible? Skull and Torch are family? They’re your brothers.”
“Exactly. If they even thought I was thinking of staking a claim on you they’d cut off my dick and feed it to the buzzards. And baby girl, no offense, but I ain’t risking my dick for any pussy, doesn’t matter how sweet it promises to be.”
“How do you know what kind of man I want?”
“You’re young. Still a dreamer. You want a man with a regular job, a house with a picket fence, and kids. Which is fine, but none of those things are who I am.”
“I bet Skull thought the same thing before Aunt Beth.”
I shake my head. “And that proves I know exactly what you want.”
“Fine. Then how about a deal?”
“A deal?”
“What if you give me more of what we just shared together?”
“I told you just a few of the many reasons why that can’t happen.”
“It can if we obey rules.” She’s seriously thinking hard about this.
“Rules?” I repeat, needing a moment to t
hink.
She winks at me growing bolder. “No one knows but us.”
“You’re awful sure of yourself. What makes you think I’d even agree to this?”
“I might be young and innocent, but even I know when a man is looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.”
“Bree, you’re young. What do you want with me? You could have anyone your own age. Hell, even a bastard my age with better prospects,” I tell her, giving up all pretenses. She wants to talk plain—I’ll give it to her plain.
“I don’t want them. I want you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know how you make me feel.” She leans closer to me, tempting me to taste those lips.
“That’s just sex. Any man can give you that, sweetness,” I tell her, hating the very idea of it, even as I say it.
“I’ve never wanted it before. Not until I saw you across the room.”
I cup the back of my neck and clear my throat. “And if that doesn’t sound like a dreamer right there.”
“You looked at me too. I know you did. I saw you stand up. Go ahead, Jax. Deny that you want me. I’ll stop if you can tell me that you aren’t dying for more of what we do to each other.”
“What if I do? I’m a man. I’m just saying you could have that with a man more suitable and get all those dreams that pretty little head of yours is entertaining.”
“I’m a virgin.”
My breath catches in my throat. I know she is. “I gathered that already. You pretty much gave that away when you said you hadn’t come before.”
“I want you to be my first. I want you to teach me about sex, Jax. I want you to own all of my firsts.”
Motherfucker.
Chapter Fourteen
Bree
Oh God, oh God, oh God! What did I just do?
Oh, I know! I just told Jax I wanted him to be my first…at everything! I can’t let him see that I’m really freaking. I’m doing my best to appear like I’m in control here. If he knew how nervous and scared I was, there would be no way he would agree. Especially, if he knew that he’s right.
I may have only known him for two days, but I definitely want him forever. I know that’s crazy. I know most people would call it stupid, and I definitely know that there’s no way that Jax is looking for any of that, especially with someone he just met. Especially with me. That means I’m going to try and get all I can from him. I may get my heart broken, but at least I can say I tried. And who knows? Maybe he will decide he wants to keep me. Stranger things have happened…right? Please God, let him want to keep me. If he doesn’t I may not survive.
“Christ Almighty, Bree. What in the hell are you thinking?” he says getting up and walking to the window.
“Never mind,” I tell him, feeling stupid. I stand up, intent on nothing else other than to leave. I make it to the door before his hand slams over top of my head, caging me in and fixing it so that there’s no way I can pry the door open. “You don’t get to drop a bombshell like that and leave, sweet Bree.”
“Why are you always calling me sweet? I asked you to stop.”
“You asked me to stop calling you sweets. I did.”
“They’re all the same. I have a name, Jax.”
“You do, and trust me, I’m not about to forget it. It’s just that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that those lips will be the sweetest drink I’ve ever had in my life.”
His words reverberate through me, but it’s the look in his eyes that freezes the very breath in my lungs. It’s that look that gives me courage.
“Then maybe you should kiss me.” I lean up on my toes.
“Bree…”
“Kiss me, Jax,” I urge him, wondering if he can hear the beating of my heart. It seems so loud it echoes in my ears.
“Fuck,” he groans, “I’m going to regret this.” His fingers tangle into my hair to the point of pain.
“I won’t,” I tell him truthfully. No matter what happens, nothing that I do with Jax will ever be a regret. He pulls my lips to him and crushes them with his own.
Heaven.
His tongue sweeps against mine, tasting and exploring. My tongue brushes against his in a counter motion. I can’t breathe as his mouth owns mine, claiming me, ruining me from ever being kissed by another.
Chapter Fifteen
Jax
There comes a moment in every man’s life where he meets his downfall, with this kiss I’m sure mine is Aubree Davis. I don’t have one doubt. The moment my tongue plunges into that sweet mouth, I’m gone. She tastes of sex and the sweetest candy known to man. With one kiss she’s promising pleasure worth dying for. Which is probably apt, since I know touching her practically ensures my death.
My fingers tighten in her hair, moving her exactly where I want her. My other hand is at her neck, feeling her pulse beat, and holding her so that she can do nothing but accept what I give her. Her tongue tentatively comes out to dance with mine and I wage a war with it, overpowering, fighting with it, and demanding submission. Her moan is swallowed down with victory as her body trembles against me.
When we break apart she takes deep breaths, her body vibrating with hunger and a need I’m not sure she understands. Hell, at forty, I’ve never felt anything like it, so I don’t completely understand either. This small, slip of a girl has managed to bring me to my knees. She’s going to destroy me.
“Can we do that again,” she whispers, her delicate fingers touching her lips, her eyes looking at me like I hold all the answers to the mysteries of the universe. I don’t. I’m completely clueless for the first time in my fucking life. However, when a woman looks at you like that, there’s pride that grows deep inside. Pride that makes you want to go out and capture the world for her. Unravel every single question, gather the answers, and give her anything she could possibly want.
“We’ll be doing more than just that.”
“Does this mean what I think it means?” she asks, and I swear it looks like she might laugh. There’s so much happiness on her face right now, it makes me feel…young.
“Maybe. We need to discuss more terms.”
A little bit of the light dies down in her eyes, and I regret it, but I need to try and minimalize damage here. Touching Bree quite literally is signing my death warrant. I’m not sure I give a fuck, but I think the rules need to be out there, because I don’t have doubt in my mind that somewhere along the line she’s going to realize that I’m not worth her time of day. She has a bright future ahead of her and she doesn’t need to be saddled down to a broken-down, rusty, old biker.
“Okay,” she says, and I take a step away from her, leading her to the sofa. Her big eyes look up at me, anxiously waiting.
“First, you were right. No one absolutely can ever know what happens between the two of us.”
She nods eagerly. “Got it.”
“I mean it. No talking about it with your friends. No writing in diaries, no chatting with your girls about this shit. What goes down between us, stays between us.” I motion between the two of us.
“I already agreed to that, Jax and I don’t write in diaries or journals. I don’t think that’s done anymore. The only people that do that shit are idiots in Washington. Don’t you watch the news?”
I rake my hand through my hair and hold my head down so she can’t see my smile. This girl has no idea the effect she has on me, and I’m not even talking about sexually. She’s like fresh air to a man that’s been dying in a dungeon for years.
“While we do this, there will be no other men in your life. I catch you with someone else and it’s over. That’s it.”
“What about other women?” Her words hold a hint of jealousy and it warms me to know she feels so strongly.
“You swing both ways?” I tease her.
“No, idiot. If I’m supposed to save myself for only you, are you going to return the favor? I’m not stupid. I know the Blaze have women, and I know more about bikers in general and club life than I ever wanted to.”
“While I’m with you, sweetness, you can guarantee I don’t want any other women. You’ll be it,” I tell her, and I watch as the light slowly comes back on in her eyes. Then, those beautiful red lips slide into a long smile, and fuck if that pain in my heart doesn’t start again. I bring my hand to rub it idly, imagining all the things I want to do to that mouth. “Next, when I want you, I want you. You don’t argue, you don’t fight it. You give yourself to me, where I want, how I want, and most importantly when I want.”
Bree swallows nervously. I watch the movement of her throat. I see her tongue come out and dance across her lip. She bites into her bottom lip, and I stare intently as the color gently bleeds away to a pale white before she releases the skin, nodding her head in agreement.
I want to leave it there. I want to take the victories I have and move on. I don’t. I need to push her. Half of me is hoping she’ll walk away and save me from myself, and the other half of me is praying she doesn’t. She has me that wrapped in knots.
“And last, when I say it’s over. It’s over.”
“Jax…”
“That’s non-negotiable Bree. You need to understand going into this what’s happening. I’ll give your body pleasure. I’ll teach you everything I know and hopefully, together we’ll discover new ways of reaching satisfaction. Exploring every avenue of gratification and need, but when it’s over…it’s over. This isn’t forever. I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m a bastard that’s taking what you’re offering because I want it. I’m just going to make sure you get all the pleasure out of it you can find. If you can’t agree to that now you need to walk away.”
She’s silent for a few minutes. Her face is downcast and she’s staring at the floor. I’m waiting, and it feels like I’m standing on glass, waiting for her answer, wanting her to say yes, but needing her to say no.