by Megan Lowe
When I get home, Bentley’s curled up on the couch, reading. I feel a pang in my chest when I see she’s wearing an old Ryan Racing jumper of mine.
“Hey,” I say as I flop on the couch, landing half on top of her.
“Oof,” she says as I land. She tries to shove me off, but I refuse to move. With a huff she gives up. “There is a whole half of the couch free,” she tells me. “There’s no need for you to lump your fat arse on top of me.”
“My fat arse, huh?” I ask. She nods, a mischievous glint in her golden-hazel eyes. I lift my shirt, exposing my six-pack abs. “Darlin’, there isn’t an ounce of fat on these here abs, or anywhere on this fine specimen of masculinity.” She runs her fingernails across my stomach, and my dick springs to life in my jeans.
“Hmm,” she says as she continues to touch me, “you may be right about that.”
“May be?” I ask, shifting so we’re now face-to-face.
“Well,” she says, “you only showed your stomach. I can’t say with certainty that there’s not an ounce of fat anywhere on your body if I can’t inspect it all.”
With a growl, I hop off the couch, grab her hand, and pull her upstairs.
“So you want to tell me what’s up?” she asks as we lie in bed after her “examination.”
“Nothing’s up,” I say.
“You want to try that once more with feeling?”
I blow out a breath. “No,” I say as I rest my head on one of her tits. I play with her nipple, watching as it elongates and hardens.
“Jax,” she says, running her fingers through my hair.
“I had a fight with Pop,” I say, hating how much of a little boy I sound.
“Oh, dude,” she says, and kisses the top of my head. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay,” she says. For a while we just lie there in silence, her running her fingers through my hair. In this moment, I know what I feel for her is the real deal. She’s perfect for me in every way. My pop is dead wrong about her, about us.
“My pop wants me to stop riding,” I say quietly, breaking the silence. “He says he’s worried about what might happen if I get another concussion.”
“It’s definitely something to be worried about,” she says.
I sit up so I can look at her. “So you think I should stop too?” I ask, heartbroken. I thought she was behind me.
“I didn’t say that,” she says, and squeezes my hand. “I said that what happens if you get another concussion is a worry, but I would never ask you to give up something you love. Do you want to stop riding?”
“Fuck no.” I don’t know who I am if I’m not riding.
“So don’t. Your pop’s only trying to look out for your well-being. You might be twenty, but you’re still his baby, Jax. He’s always going to want to look out for you and protect you; that’s what a good parent does.”
“He wants me to sit behind a desk,” I say, scrunching my nose.
“And do what?”
“Talent scout. Get this,” I say as I lie back down on her chest, “he wants me to find my replacement on the team.”
“I don’t think he sees it like that,” she says. Even though it kills me to hear her defend him, especially with what he said about her, it also kind of warms my heart.
“You’re kind of perfect for me, you know that, right?” I ask her, looking deep into those green eyes I love so much. Yeah, I said the l word, alert the fucking media. I know my pop has his doubts about her, but I couldn’t be surer if I tried. I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain Bentley La Roche is the woman for me.
She scoffs and tries to hide behind her hair.
I sweep it off her face. “I’m dead serious, Bent. If I didn’t know that before, I knew it just then when you didn’t push me to talk. You are made for me, and I love you with everything I’ve got.”
“You l-l-love me?” she stutters, her eyes wide.
“I sure do.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” She opens her mouth to reply, but I slap a hand over it. “Wait, don’t answer that question. I love you, Bentley. You’re incredible, you’re real, you don’t let me get away with shit. You ground me and you’ve helped build me back up. Plus, you have the coolest fucking hair I’ve ever seen, and you knock out guys who are twice your size. What’s not to love about that?”
“You could do so much better than me,” she says.
“True, but Emma Watson lives all the way in England, and long-distance relationships suck,” I say. She shoves me playfully, and I laugh. I grab her around the waist and pull her to me. “Truthfully?” I ask, and she nods. “I could search the world a million times over and I would never find anyone who gets me as well as you do.” Her eyes shine with tears. “But you, well, you totally lucked out finding me. I’d say you’re definitely punching above your weight here, darlin’.” That earns me a real punch on the shoulder. “Ow!” I say as she laughs.
“You’re such an arse! Remind me why I put up with you again?”
“Because you love me,” I say, dead sober.
She stops laughing and looks me in the eyes. “Yeah, I do,” she says.
“Yeah?” I ask, just to make sure I heard right.
“Yes, Jax,” she says, taking my face in her hands, “I love you, though God knows why I put up with you.”
“Well that’s not very nice,” I say, pouting.
“I’ll show you nice,” she says, pushing me to my back before slithering down the bed. By the time she’s level with my dick, he’s ready and pointing straight at her. She doesn’t waste any time, taking me all the way to the back of her throat.
“Oh fuck,” I cry, my hips thrusting me into her mouth. She hums, and the vibration goes straight to my balls. “Holy shit, Bentley,” I say as she reaches between my legs, kneading my balls. “Oh God.” I cry out and throw my head back. God, she’s so good at this. I can feel myself getting closer. I lift the sheet, and the sight almost has me coming on the spot. I cup her cheek, and she stops, but keeps my crown in her mouth, her tongue swirling. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re so fucking good at that, but I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
She lets me go with a pop. “No?”
“No,” I confirm. I drag her up my body and flip us so she’s on her back. “But you’ll be coming on mine,” I tell her as I slide down. I suck her clit into my mouth, and she jerks off the bed.
“Jax,” she cries, her hands going to my head, her nails digging into my scalp. Her flavour bursts across my tongue, making my mouth water.
“Fuck, darlin’,” I say, lifting my head so I can look at her. She’s already watching me, and I feel a drop of precum bead at my tip. I angle her pelvis up so I can take her without breaking eye contact, and I swear it’s the hottest moment of my life. Those twins in the spa at my first Extreme Games are a shadow compared to this moment. I take her clit in my mouth again as well as inserting two fingers inside her. She spreads her legs wider, and I suck her harder, hooking my fingers so they rub her G spot. Her mouth opens, and by the way her chest is heaving, I know she’s close. I nibble on her clit, and she throws her head back, breaking our connection, coming in a rush.
She’s still coming down when I crawl up her body. I brush her hair off her face, and am looking at her when she finally opens her eyes.
“Hi,” I say.
She gives me a shy smile. “Hi yourself.”
“Enjoy that?” I ask. She nods. “Good.” I lean down and kiss her. As I do, she wraps her legs around my waist.
“Mine,” she says, when we break apart. She shifts slightly so I’m at her opening.
“Darlin’, can I…,” I start. “I mean, I’m clean and um, yeah…,” I say, looking away.
She forces me to look at her. “You don’t want anything between us?” I nod. She bites her lip, and I swear to God if I don’t get inside her soon, wrapped or unwrapped, I’m going to be coming on my sheets.
“That sounds really good,” she tells me.
“Are you….” I trail off.
She nods. “They did a full panel when I was admitted to hospital. I haven’t been with anyone since then.”
“Holy shit,” I say, gritting my teeth. I rest my forehead on her chest. “Don’t tell me I can fuck you bareback and that I’m the first guy you’ve been with since your douchebag ex. I’ve got a reputation to protect here, darlin’.”
Her chest starts bouncing up and down, and I know she’s laughing at me. “Jax, look at me.”
“No, I can’t. If I do I’ll lose it.”
“Fine, don’t look at me, just hurry up and get in me,” she says.
“That I can do,” I say, pushing inside her. She’s so hot and wet, and I swear to God, I see stars and I’m not even doing anything. It takes everything I’ve got not to come. I grip the sheets tight, my whole body tense.
“Are you okay?” she asks, rubbing my shoulders. I nod.
“Yep, totally fine,” I grit out. Meanwhile, I’m imagining anything and everything I can that will help me from majorly embarrassing myself. Finally I get myself under control, and open my eyes to find hers with a concerned look in them. “I’m fine, darlin’, you just feel so fucking good I had to get myself under control.”
“So you’re good now?” she asks.
I give her my signature sexy smirk. “I’m more than good,” I say, as I withdraw a little, then push back in.
“Oh fuck,” she says, throwing her head back. The action opens her throat to me, and I swoop on it, kissing and sucking. Her head tilts to the side, her bare skin calling to me, and the urge to mark her, to show anyone who looks at her that she’s mine, hits me. The resulting blemish is even more satisfying than I thought it would be.
“Jax,” she pants, “harder. I need you to fuck me.”
I grab her hands and hold them in one of mine, above her head. With my other hand I grip her hip, hard, hoping to leave my mark there too, and start pounding into her. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close.
“That’s it, darlin’, feel me bare inside you. How good is it?”
“So good,” she pants.
“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” I ask. She nods. “Good girl. Come for me, Bentley.” She does, and I follow right behind her. I collapse on top of her, trying to keep as much weight off her as possible, but my orgasm took a lot out of me. She pats me on my back, and I manage to pull out of her, as much as I don’t want to, and roll to the side.
I grab a few tissues from the box beside my bed and clean her up. The sight of my cum and hers leaking out of her immediately gives me the energy for round two. “God, that’s hot,” I say as I clean her up. She looks down and swipes a finger through the mess before lifting it to her mouth and sucking it. “I think I just died and went to heaven,” I tell her.
“I think I did too,” she says, cuddling up to me when I return to the head of the bed.
I palm her arse, giving it a squeeze. “That was some damn good lovin’ right there,” I tell her.
“Yeah, it was.” She smiles at me.
People, my own family, can say what they want about Bentley and me, but right here, when it’s just us, is all that matters. As much as I hate that the relationship I have with my pop is breaking down, I know I’m also building up a stronger, more significant one with Bentley. Where my pop was once my biggest supporter, now it’s her. When we met I was at my lowest, and with her help, I’ve built myself up again. Maybe sometimes we need to totally break down before we can find our way home. Looking at the now sleeping Bentley in my arms, I know, without a doubt, she’s my home.
Chapter 20
Bentley
After Jax’s disagreement with his pop, we only stayed in Booker a few more days. The relationship between the two was noticeably cooler, and I didn’t want to chance that it might deteriorate further and go from frosty to unsalvageable. I did manage to have a quite intense chat with Reed before we left though.
“I know things with our pop and Jax are tense right now,” Reed says to me as we watch Jax run around with his two-year-old niece, “but you’ve got to understand that he’s just looking out for Jax’s well-being.”
“I get that,” I say, “and I told Jax as much, but you know how he is. He has a big heart and takes everything so seriously.”
Reed sighs. “I know.”
“He was hurting after the Extreme Games. Add that to all the shit that went down with Quinn, and he wasn’t in a good place.”
“He may not have been, but he is now.”
I smile. “He’s resilient and determined and stubborn as hell.”
Reed laughs. “I’m sure if you ask my wife she’ll say the same thing about me.”
“They’re good traits to have, especially considering what you guys do for a living.”
“Growing up, Jax was always the wildest out of the lot of us,” Reed says. “He was fearless. Nothing intimidated him, no one could stop him.”
“He’s still the same way,” I say.
Reed nods. “It’s what makes him so great at what he does.”
“But?” I ask, knowing it’s coming.
“But,” Reed says with a smile, “it also means he doesn’t consider all the risks involved. In his own way, our pop, by suggesting Jax retire, is trying to get him to start realising his actions have consequences.”
“By doing that, he’s trying to change who Jax is,” I tell him. “You take riding away from him, what does he have left?”
“I thought the same thing when I stopped racing, but I found my feet,” he says with a smile as he watches his daughter chase her uncle around the yard.
“No offence, but Jax isn’t the type to be content sitting behind a desk.”
“He would make one hell of a scout though,” he says.
“Maybe,” I concede, “but I get the feeling that if you push him into that, he’ll come to resent it and possibly you guys as well. Giving up riding is something Jax needs to come to his own conclusion about.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I get it,” I tell him, “I’m concerned about him too, but I can’t ask Jax to be something he’s not. I may not like what he’s doing, but I love him, and I’ll support him because that’s what you do.”
Reed nods. “I guess my pop’s just having a little trouble letting go. Out of all of us, I think he and Jax felt the loss of our ma the hardest. Pop because she was the love of his life, and Jax because he never got to know her. I think Pop used that bond to keep Jax closer, to protect him and mother him.”
“As much as I feel for your pop, it was that attitude that pushed Jax to the Gold Coast. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad as hell that it did, but if he pushes Jax too far, who knows what he’ll do.”
“Oh fuck me,” he curses. “I’ll get Pop to back off.”
“I appreciate it,” I say as I get up. “Your brother does too.”
Reed gives me a smile. “You’re good for him, you know.”
I return his smile. “I like to think so, but it’s nice to know someone else does too.”
***
We’re back on the Coast and, for the most part, things are back to normal. We’re pretty much living at my place full-time now; even Buttons has made the move. Jax is also hard at work on his comeback. After what happened with his pop, he’s more determined than ever to do it.
“So what happens now?” I ask him one night as we sit on the couch, my feet in his lap, Buttons on mine.
“I need to make qualifying runs so the Extreme Games committee can see I’m back up and running,” he says as he massages my feet.
“And how do we go about doing that?”
“We?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I shrug. “I am your girlfriend right?” I ask.
“Oh, darlin’, you’re much, much more than just my girlfriend,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Okay then,” I say, brushing off his innuendo, “so I fig
ure that makes me part of the team—so, we.”
“Eh, fair enough. So what we would need to do is film some of my runs, as well as get me into a qualifying comp.”
“Are there many of those around?” I ask.
“A few. I’ll call sis, she’ll know the goss.”
“Why would Aubrey know what’s going on?” I ask, confused.
“Not that sis, Bria-sis.”
I shake my head. “I can only imagine how confused Liam is going to be once all of you have girls.”
“Pfft,” Jax says as he pulls out his phone. “Park will never settle down.” He dials the phone and puts it on speaker.
“Well, well, well,” Bria says as she answers, “if it isn’t the cheeky Ryan.”
“Hello to you too, sis,” Jax says.
“How are you, little brother-in-law of mine?”
“We’re good,” he replies.
“Oooh, we, huh?”
“Oh please, like you and Reed don’t ‘we’ all over the place.”
“Not us. I have a feeling it’ll be Chase, when we eventually start toilet training. I think he’ll be taking a leaf out of his youngest uncle’s book in being a royal pest.”
“I take offence to that,” Jax says.
“Oh, dude,” I say, and rub his thigh with my foot.
“Oh, Bentley’s here. Hey, Bentley,” Bria says.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask.
“Good. Busy, but good.”
“That’s good,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jax interrupts, “that’s all lovely that you’re doing your sisterly bonding, but there’s more important issues at hand.” I shove him with my foot.
“I don’t know how you put up with him,” Bria says.
“Sometimes I don’t know either,” I reply.
“Seriously,” Bria says, “you’re a beautiful woman, I’m sure there’s a hundred guys up there just waiting to have a chance with you.”
“Not cool, sis, not cool,” Jax says, pouting.
“Is he pouting?” she asks.
The pout turns into a scowl.
“He was. He’s scowling now.”
“All right, we’ll behave,” Bria says. “So what can I do for you, BMX god extraordinaire?”