Jaxon - Bad Boys of New York Book #1

by Mackenzy Fox

  Obviously, he can tell I’m embarrassed and he’s saving my feelings, which is very unlike him, normally the Jaxon I’m used to would rub this in my face and taunt me until I’m ready to belt him one.

  “It won’t happen again,” I tell him. “I’m sworn off girl’s night and tequila cocktails for life, the mariachi band in my head is going on repeat if it’s any consolation.”

  He smirks, his eyes look very mischievous.

  “Did you take the Tylenol?”

  “Yes, thanks,” I nod. “You didn’t have to do that though, but it was very sweet.”

  God, what’s come over me? More to the point; what’s come over him?

  My mind suddenly flashes back….

  Rolling over, I bump into him, I feel his hard, muscular body next to me as I cuddle into his warm, beautiful chest. He’s warm and cuddly and it feels safe with his arm slung over me. He smells so goddamn divine, if I wasn’t so out of it, I’d for sure be all over it…

  “Jaxon?” I ask, grasping my cup with both hands to stop my hands from shaking.

  He looks at me quizzically like he has no idea what’s going on in my head.

  “Yes, MJ.”

  I meet his gaze and bite my lip as I ask, “Where did you sleep?”

  He purses his lips then flicks his eyes down to my cup, then looks back up at me. For the love of God, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look slightly uncomfortable. I’m not sure if it suits him. I’m used to him being super in charge, always so sure of himself.

  “Is that really important?” he finally replies. Okay, this is awkward.

  “Yes, to me it is.”

  “I could lie and then you’d never know.”

  “Then, why don’t you?”

  He lets out a long breath as if not wanting to answer but not actually wanting to lie either. “I was worried about you, so yes, I stayed for a while.”

  My eyes go wide. “You slept in my bed?”

  He draws his bottom lip into his mouth as if thinking about his answer. “I didn’t sleep in your bed technically, I slept on it, and only until I was sure you weren’t going to choke on your own vomit or something else crazy, your wild when your drunk MJ.”

  I wince at the thought and I realize I am far from mad with him. I should be furious but more furious with myself.

  I glance down his body and swallow hard again, then take another long swig of my coffee not really knowing what to say.

  “I asked you to stay, didn’t I?” I say quietly, I know it’s true; it’s something I’d do. I’m needy when I’ve had too many drinks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you? You didn’t have to do anything.”

  “I’m your bodyguard,” he states. “I suppose it is a bit above and beyond the call of duty, in fact, I should get danger money considering your mood swings.”

  I swipe him with my fist as he dodges me.

  Then he gives me a lopsided pursed smile and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He seriously needs to be on the front of G.Q magazine or Vogue or something, not doing this shit.

  The thought of him in my bed, of me wrapping myself around him and him just lying there protecting me stirs something in me that I didn’t think was possible. I realize that there’s a heat forming in every cell of my body. I’m attracted to him, big time. In fact, I can feel my body parts tingling at the very notion of him that close to me and us not doing anything sexual.

  It’ll be our little secret, nobody has to know. Did I beg him at one point?

  I could die of shame. I don’t know what’s fantasy and fiction anymore but I want to cringe in horror.

  I shake my head. “You’re just being nice, I’m so embarrassed, I’m fairly sure I did a lot of man-handling last night and babbling about ex-boyfriends, you probably do deserve a pay rise.”

  He watches me with dark eyes and doesn’t answer. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

  “So, we’re good?” I ask hopefully.

  Putting this behind us is going to be awkward.

  He nods. “Yeah, cupcake, we’re good, just no drinking tequila on my shift next time, and while we’re at it, you need to tell your friend to get nicer acquaintances.”

  “You’re right,” I agree, realizing I better check my phone.

  He does a double-take, “Wow, agreeing with me, you must be feeling really hungover.”

  I roll my eyes. “Very funny. I hope you’re not going to be in trouble for assault or anything,” I say suddenly. “You hit that guy pretty hard.”

  He shifts off the bench. “It’s my club and he was groping you; I don’t put up with that shit and he paid the price.”

  He is so blasé about it that it should shock me, but it doesn’t.

  “I have heard about your reputation and that temper,” I smirk, remembering Gareth’s nose spurting out with blood. “That’s pretty hard core, you broke his nose.”

  Ouch.

  “And now you know what I’m capable of when it comes to my job,” he says, downing the rest of his coffee, then rinses the cup in the sink.

  Right. His job.

  I swallow hard. “Thanks for the coffee and the burrito.” It seems he’s leaving and I don’t know why I feel mixed up about that, why I like having him in my apartment, especially like this; in his Sunday sweats being all cute and non-broody.

  “It’s nothing, get some rest.” He nods as I smile. He takes off up the hallway as I watch him leave, the door clicks quietly closed behind him.

  I immediately flop forwards and knock my head repeatedly on the counter. After a few minutes of contemplation, I drag my carcass up and go in search for my purse. He’s laid it on the chair in my room. I dig inside and find my phone and see I’ve got texts from Dixie.

  She’s asking if I’m alive, and to call her.

  I text back quickly.

  I’m alive, barely. You won’t believe it though.

  A few moments later, a message bounces back.

  Finally, she’s awake, I was worried. What did you do?

  God, where do I start? The beginning I guess.

  I made a fool of myself & kissed

  Jaxon last night & probably told him I wanted

  to marry him or something stupidly worse.

  It’s ghastly. He’s being strangely nice too

  & made me coffee & got breakfast.

  Kill me now please.

  Another message pings in record time.

  O.M.G he made you coffee and got breakfast? And you didn’t even have sex?????

  I roll my eyes

  No, of course not!

  Shit a brick, is he a good kisser? I need deets.

  From what I remember? Yes, he is

  but that isn’t important. How do I get

  myself out of this?

  Why am I admitting he’s a good kisser? I guess I’m guilty as charged.

  From what you remember? OMFG, Morgan. Where did you kiss him?

  She of course ignores my question. Knowing Dix, she wants all the goss.

  In my bedroom, after he carried me up

  in the elevator. I fell asleep in the car.

  There are no bounds to my humiliation.

  Good God I wish I were you. What was he doing in your bedroom?

  I was on a rant about Ethan & God

  knows what else & I kind of latched

  onto him, it wasn’t my finest moment

  Latched onto him? LOL what like a monkey?

  Oh, there’s more,

  he slept with me on the bed,

  I apparently begged him not to leave.

  So he stayed out of pity.

  He probably thinks I’m insane.

  Idk you are pretty cute when you’re drunk, Morgs. What did he say this morning?

  He kind of acted cool like nothing

  happened but said I could drink a

  Russian under the table with his own

  Vodka, he didn’t say anything about me

  kissing and groping him and
made a couple

  of jokes about my impending embarrassment

  She sends me a shocked face emoji.

  Well, I’m sure he wasn’t complaining

  I remember him on top of me, his hard length digging into me and I want to groan. I’m sure I didn’t imagine that. I am definitely feeling things for Jaxon and it’s getting me all mixed up. I’m in unchartered territory.

  I fell asleep so I’ll guess we’ll never know

  Look on the bright side, it could’ve been worse, least you didn’t hurl.

  That’s true, but it’s awkward now

  we’re supposed to hate each other.

  I don’t think you ever hated him, Morgan, or he you.

  I have a feeling she’s right. I more hated myself for who I was and what I’d done all those years ago when, really, I should have let it go. I kept punishing myself.

  I’m not going to say that you’re right

  but I am going back to bed

  I’m always right, chick, you know that

  Can’t argue with that, babe

  Call me when you’re not dead x

  I will, and I want to hear about you

  & Chase

  A lady never kisses and tells x

  I snort a laugh.

  Since when have you been a lady?

  I was waiting for that, & I’m not, especially when he’s around

  Call u later x

  I exile myself to my bed and it’s where I stay for the rest of the afternoon, comatose, nursing my own self-inflicted misery with nobody to blame but myself.

  13

  Jaxon

  We ride in the car in silence as I look out of the window at the busy Monday morning traffic. I had a good rest yesterday and a long run this morning. It’s not often I get a good night’s sleep, so when I do, I feel like I can climb the highest mountain.

  That and the fact I’m noticing everything about Morgan that I shouldn’t be noticing, for example, her penance for short skirt suits and floaty blouses, the way she tucks them in and cinches at the waist. Her hair is curled today and it hangs down over her chest, which reminds me of the sheer mesh top she wore on Saturday night revealing her breasts that I can’t stop thinking about, her makeup simple and flawless, and she smells like peonies.

  I didn’t go out on Sunday as planned, so I’m wired. Literally wired.

  I cannot stop thinking about what happened, granted she was pissed out of her mind, but the way her lips felt against mine, holy Jesus. Her hot little body rubbing against me, her beautiful, full breasts squashed up against my chest, begging for attention. Under normal circumstances with a woman while making out, I would have loved nothing more than to worship every inch of her body and make her come with my mouth several times before I fucked her senseless. Thinking about doing that to Morgan horrifies me as much as it excites me.

  What’s worse is imagining it in that big huge bed of hers and her wrapped around me.

  I don’t know what’s gotten into me but I’ll ask Chase when we grab a quick lunch downtown later in the day while Morgan’s in another meeting.

  He will know what to do.

  “Screw her senseless,” he says as I almost splutter my club soda all over the table.

  “That’s all you can do to get this out of your system, you’d be doing the world a disservice if you don’t and you’ll be making my ears bleed in between until you do.”

  I look around the busy restaurant. “Why don’t you advertise it to the entire universe?” I mutter back to him.

  He shrugs. “She’s hot, I’m surprised you’ve kept it in your pants this long.”

  I’m seriously regretting coming here for lunch and this conversation, which is not helping my cause.

  “That’s great advice, big shot, I was kind of hoping you’d be telling me the opposite and ask what the hell I am doing and how unprofessional that is,” I reply. “You know like all good best friends are supposed to do.”

  “On the contrary, good sir.” He waves his fork at me. “Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined boning her on her desk at work with the blinds drawn because I seriously won’t believe you.”

  I try not to imagine that delicious thought, especially with Morgan’s hands on her desk with her ass out and skirt hitched up as I take her from behind.

  Jesus H. Christ.

  I need to get a grip.

  I stare at him, unblinking. “You really aren’t helping my situation.”

  He takes another bite of his chicken salad and looks at me quizzically. “I thought this was someone you hated.”

  “So did I,” I mutter.

  He smiles knowingly. “I get it, that good cop, bad cop shit, having someone you can’t have kind of adds to the excitement of it all, that’s all it is.”

  “This is different,” I mutter, cutting into my steak with vengeance. “I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that, I never mix business with pleasure, I never cross the line.”

  “What about the waitresses at the club?” he grins, raising his eyebrows.

  I wince. “Okay, I never mix business with pleasure while I’m working.”

  “There’s my boy.” He winks.

  “The fact is, I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that at all, period, but I am, she’s driving me nuts, I don’t know what to do.”

  I’ve never had this conundrum before, I always know what to do.

  “Hey, you blew me off last night.” He shrugs. “Could’ve blown off some steam instead, you’ve only yourself to blame.”

  We were meant to go hang out last night but I was way too tired after the week I’d had, including the Saturday night disaster.

  I suddenly look up at him and narrow my eyes.

  “Wait a minute, what did you do last night?” I accuse.

  He grins; his smile spreads across his face. “I had a pretty long phone call with a cute little bossy brunette that goes by the name of Dixie; whose real name, by the way, is Deena.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as I shake my head.

  “You’re getting it on with Morgan’s best friend?” I don’t hold the horror from my tone. The last thing I need is him upsetting the BFF and then I’ll have two people who hate me and double the drama.

  “I’d hardly call phone sex getting it on.”

  “You had phone sex?”

  He laughs. “God, Jax, I’m kidding, what the hells the matter with you? Lighten up.”

  He’s right; I’m usually the instigator of all the smutty shit that goes down during conversations like these, not playing the devil’s advocate. I need sex, that’s what it is.

  “Don’t be telling her what we get up to, she’ll only go tittle-tattle to Morgan.”

  “Why would you care?” he asks, which is a pretty good question. “I mean, you work for her remember, there’s plenty of other chicks out there readily available and at your service.”

  I let out a long breath as I gather my thoughts.

  “Well, for one, you know what girls are like when they get together; they love to gossip and I don’t need Morgan having any more dirt on me than she has already. The less she knows, the better.” Ain’t that the truth. “And she’s trouble,” I add for good measure, waving my fork at him. “She knows how to get under my skin and she does it without you even knowing, you wake up one day, and all of a sudden, she’s there in the forefront of my mind, stalking me, and now I’m jerking off to her in the shower…”

  He almost chokes on his salad. “You’re fucked, bro,” he manages between splutters.

  The waitress passes again and asks for about the third time if Chase needs more cracked pepper on his salad, now seeing that he’s choking, she runs off to get water.

  “I still say get it out of your system,” he chimes with a wicked grin. “Like a hall pass.”

  “Hall pass,” I grunt. “Yeah, and then Leon will come after me and slit my throat in my sleep, courtesy of John C James.”

  The waitress delivers a carafe of water and
Chase smiles back at her, his eyes on her ass as she walks away.

  “Could be worth it,” he suggests. “And then I wouldn’t have to sit here listening to you whine about what to do about it because you’d be dead.”

  “Why did I ever think you’d be sympathetic?”

  “I have absolutely no idea, but I like it here, I should come uptown more often under the guise of having lunch.” He glances around the restaurant appreciatively. At least he has good taste.

  “I’m off my game,” I admit.

  “You so are,” he agrees. “I don’t know why you’re crying over it, you meet a million women every day, why is this chick so different?”

  He stops eating and stares at me.

  I feel like such a douche bringing this up, but Chase and I are like brothers, I can tell him anything even if he thinks I’m an ass.

  “This feels different,” I say reluctantly. “You saw me on Saturday night.”

  “Yeah, I did, you hit a guy who was overstepping the mark, big deal.”

  “I wanted to kill him.”

  “Because he was feeling your girl up?”

  “Exactly,” I reply, finally I’m getting somewhere. “I was jealous, and I don’t ever get fucking jealous, I don’t know what the hell’s happening to me. One minute I’m telling myself to back off, the next I’m decking someone without a second thought.”

  Even if the douche deserved it, I normally have a lot more self-control.

  He pats me on the shoulder.

  “It’s alright, bro, how long has it been since you busted a nut?”

  I frown at his choice of words which only makes him grin harder.

  “Come on, tell me, I won’t judge.”

  “Almost two weeks,” I say flatly, it feels like an eternity. I think back to the shower incident and want to cringe, not because I did what I did but because I imagined Morgan while doing it.

  He coughs and pretends he’s choking for real as I look around and smile at the table close by who look like they’re wondering if he is actually choking to death while I sit by and do nothing.

  I kick him under the table.

  “Two weeks? Christ, you sure you’re not like coming down with something?” He tries to reach over and touch my forehead as I chuck my cloth napkin in his face.