Jaxon - Bad Boys of New York Book #1

by Mackenzy Fox

  Before I get to answer, an old lady stops by the table and looks from Chase to me then puts her hand on my forearm with a kind smile. “Aww, will you look at that,” she says, patting me in an overly affectionate kind of way. “You couple of cuties.”

  “I’m sorry?” I say, tilting my head in question at her gesture.

  Then she leans in and whispers; “It’s alright, I’m in your corner, it’s lovely to see.”

  “What’s lovely?” I stammer, who the hell is this woman?

  “I support gay marriage, honey,” she replies, then gives me a knowing wink. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, I say.”

  My eyes go round. “No, we’re not…”

  “Married,” Chase finishes before I can clarify. I shoot him daggers across the table. “Not yet anyway, working on it.” He even gives her a sly wink and his killer smile.

  “Good for you,” she muses, waddling off before I can say anything. She looks quite pleased with herself, like she’s done her good deed for the day.

  I stare after her, when I look back at Chase, his shoulders are shaking.

  “Do we really look gay?” I say out loud, horrified.

  We both burst out laughing.

  Chase wipes his eyes with the napkin I threw at him. “I don’t know, but if she thinks we are, I’m seriously losing my touch. I look too good in a suit obviously.”

  If an old woman thinks we’re gay, I’m seriously more doomed than I thought.

  “Touché, my friend, touché.”

  John James passes me the file as I sit at his boardroom table with Leon and Ryan.

  Ever since the latest threat against John came to light and security’s been amped up, his guys have been working on exactly who’s been making these threats against him. I’ve been called in today because things have escalated somewhat.

  “Michael Lazzoni,” he says. “We had a deal go south a long time ago, almost bankrupted me, some weren’t so lucky, he’d have reason to want me dead or hurt Morgan or anyone close to me, he’s been sniffing around.”

  “Anyone else involved in this deal that went bad?”

  “My associate, Dean Winters, and his brother, Keith, and Bill Chapple.”

  Bill Chapple was the dude that got a shot in a home robbery.

  “They had any threats?”

  “Keith died last year in a car accident.”

  I frown, that doesn’t help.

  “And you know about Bill Chapple.”

  “Could it be related?” I say, looking up from the photos.

  “Threats are a dime a dozen,” Leon interrupts. “Why now?”

  “Vendettas only get stronger when they fester,” I reply. “Like a cobra waiting to strike.”

  Something about all of this feels off though.

  The threat is Morgan being kidnapped and held for ransom. Apparently, not the first time, and all rich chicks go through this from time to time when they are from a wealthy family, threats are nothing new.

  Imagining Morgan hurt or someone getting that close to her makes me want to commit murder. I take my job seriously, but this feels personal now.

  Someone wants to hurt her, well, they’ll have to go through me to get there; I’m suddenly alarmed at the amount of force I feel.

  “This is serious,” John admits, looking pale.

  “Morgan needs to know what’s going on,” Leon says.

  “No, the least she knows the better,” I reply. “It’ll only make her edgy and I have a hard enough time controlling her as it is.”

  “Until we work out the threat and who we’re dealing with, I want eyes on her at all times. Amp it up, Jaxon, do what you have to do,” says John.

  “The office is safe, I have Ryan downstairs but I’ll get a couple of your guys watching the building and her residence just to be sure.”

  “Leon, can you spare Lennox?” John says, shifting his attention. “I really want the boys workings in shifts, that way, there’s always fresh eyes, I know Morgan is not going to like this but I don’t know if the apartment next door is close enough.”

  My mind races. “We can’t exactly move in with her,” I say. “It’s bad enough guarding her from a distance; she’s not going to be very compliable with either of us in the spare room.”

  I imagine being in her spare room and I know that isn’t close enough. I want to be in her fucking bed.

  “With all due respect, son, Morgan will do as she’s told.”

  That’s easier said than done, we both know how headstrong she is.

  I take a deep breath. “Nobody is getting in that building, John, and you know it, I’ll have an alarm set on the premises, amp up the security system.”

  He nods approvingly.

  He rubs his face with both hands. “Nothing can happen to her.”

  “It won’t,” I reply. I don’t want Lennox or Ryan in her apartment, I don’t care how trustworthy he is, not happening.

  If anyone is taking up the night shift, it’s going to be me.

  “I’ll organize it this afternoon and go through it with her, leave it to me, John.”

  He nods, looking slightly more relieved than I feel. I don’t like this feeling I’m getting that we’re barking up the completely wrong tree, call it a gut instinct, I don’t know but it’s never let me down before and it’s never been wrong.

  I’ve read through a list of all her associates, colleagues, clients, I have a list of her ex-boyfriends, friends, and family, she’s a busy girl but who the hell wants to hurt her to get to her father? Maybe it’s a ploy, maybe it’s nothing to do with John, maybe it’s everything.

  I don’t like it because it feels murky.

  We end the meeting and Leon and I walk out together.

  “Anything you need, Jaxon, let me know.” He pats me on the back as I nod.

  “Thanks, Leon, I’ll keep you updated.” I leave, and on my way down the elevator, a young girl gets in on the twenty-second floor as I’m halfway through my call with the security system company I like to use.

  She gives me a once over and bites her lip as she smiles. I smile back politely.

  Thank God I have the phone call to distract me, I check out her behind while I’m talking, and under normal circumstances, I’d end the call and totally hit on her. Hell, I’ve done worse things in elevators.

  To my relief, she gets out on the tenth floor and gives me a sly smile as she exits. It bothers me that my dick doesn’t even stir, hell no, it’s like it’s gone into hibernation and only comes out when Morgan James is around.

  Something’s wrong with me.

  I feel my crotch once the doors close and I hang up my call, yep my balls are still there, that’s a relief.

  Awesome, now I can’t even get it up when a perky, pretty girl looks my way, I’m starting to think something is definitely up, then I remember the other night when inebriated Morgan tried to dry hump me in her bedroom. It was definitely working then, it was busting through my pants, begging to be let out.

  It’s extremely emasculating when a girl I shouldn’t be having a jones for is now the main star of all my fantasies and all I can do about it is use my own hand because I don’t even want to fuck another woman.

  I run a hand through my hair and try to grasp what the hell’s going on, it’s like high school is happening all over again but I know it’s much more than that.

  I think back to that time and remember how adored she and Brandon were by their minions. I never got a shot at taking any girl to prom, but I still went with a bunch of other losers I hung out with when I wasn’t getting my head beat in. She was magical that night, like Cinderella, though I’d begun to hate her for abandoning our friendship and not being the person I knew she could be, I still looked. She was mesmerizing then and ever more so now.

  I thought that shit was over with, but I know I’m feeling things deep inside that I haven’t felt before, that I didn’t think I was even capable of feeling, but now I want what I want and I can’t have it. I can’t have her. I’
ll never have her. I have to come to terms with that, it isn’t some game or challenge for me to overcome. I have to accept it.

  I’m here to do a job and that’s it.

  I know the other night she came onto me but she was drunk so that doesn’t count. She’d almost slapped me just an hour earlier, she’d been pressing my buttons all freaking night with her antics, and yes, I was jealous, but it felt like more than that.

  I felt an overwhelming sense of protection over her then and even more so now.

  That’s what I kept thinking when I watched that caveman feel her up.

  He wouldn’t worship her the way I could. He definitely couldn’t do with his mouth the things that I could, the things I thought about her doing to me too while in the shower as I pleasured myself, hell no. Only I could give her what she wanted; dirty rotten sex, even if what she wanted was only in my dreams, that didn’t matter. My reality was so far-fetched, I didn’t know what the hell was real anymore.

  When we kissed, I felt an electricity that I’d never felt before. When she’d looked up at me and practically begged me to take her, it took all my restraint not to give her that, even though I knew that I couldn’t, but I had considered crossing the line, my body certainly wanted to go the distance. It spurred me on like the devil was inside me.

  Morgan James is my weakness.

  My own personal brand of Kryptonite.

  And now I can’t stop thinking about her.

  I almost slap myself. I should have gone out with Chase last night, maybe if I’d met some hot chick I could have gotten all of this out of my system, even though I know it’s not true, there doesn’t seem to be a cure for whatever this is.

  Maybe Chase was right, maybe I did have it bad?

  But that was crazy. I’d built my armor up, it was solid, no chinks in this chain and that’s how I liked it and how things were going to stay.

  I just had to pull my head in and not get so invested.

  John James trusted me, if I did cross the line then I’d be fired and he’d probably have someone whack me just for even going there with his precious princess.

  Not that I could blame him, if I had a daughter, that’s what I’d do too, hell, I’d do it myself.

  I just had to remain distant.

  No more small talk.

  No more making coffee.

  No more making excuses to be in her apartment.

  Definitely no more being nice to her cat.

  No more Mr. Nice Guy, period.

  It was for the best.

  14

  Morgan

  It takes me a few days to recover from the weekend, which just proved that I really am too old for night clubs and for drinking like I’ve got a death wish.

  Jaxon hasn’t said any more to me about it, in fact, he’s been super quiet the last few days, what’s worse is my father’s paranoia. I now have a new security alarm which I have to set each night and keep Jezzy in my room so she doesn’t set off the sensors in the main living areas. The men in my life have gone crazy, I swear to God.

  You’d think I’d be used to it after living like this for most of my life, maybe the old man is getting more paranoid as time goes on.

  I have an afternoon at the Hope Floats center for women where I meet Imogen, she helped me tremendously get all of the funding in order to help get the center off the ground, it’s something that we need in New York City and is very close to my heart.

  Jaxon exits the car first and Ryan pulls up in another Audi close by… because one annoying bodyguard isn’t enough. This is seriously getting out of control and I desperately feel the need to demand my freedom back, though suspiciously, the thought of Jaxon leaving fills me with a little bit of dread. I don’t know why but I put it down to the fact I’ve been deprived of sex for eight months and he is the only man I see all day every day aside from my intern, Marcus, who’s gay.

  Being with Ethan kind of swore me off men for good. I promised myself I would spend the rest of this year concentrating on me and what I wanted, getting my career to the next level and not worrying about men, and that’s what I’ve done. I’m proud of the many things I’ve achieved, most of them without my father’s help. Sure, I’ve used a lot of his influence and his name, but I’ve never asked him for a dime to set up my business or help with Hope Floats. That is all my own doing and I’m proud that I’ve made a difference.

  I glance at my watch, I’m late.

  I meet Imogen at the door as we go in.

  The building is downtown and it used to be a dive. The previous owners had let the building get rundown and very dilapidated, now it’s been renovated and fixed up and looks a million times better.

  Women can come here for free counselling, join in on the weekly meetings, and they can also stay for weeks or up to months at a time in one of the dorms and private rooms. A safe place to help women explore opportunities to get them back on their feet after suffering from domestic violence.

  We have a wonderful team here but funding is always hard and there’s a lot of red tape. We only get so much government grant per year and that isn’t much, even though we’re a non-profit organization, there’s a lot of competition for funding.

  The wonderful coordinator and now my good friend, Nancy, is a godsend. She runs this place like a Fairy godmother on steroids. It’s my dream to make this place bigger and to have more staff. Aside from Nancy, there’s Grace who runs the administration side of things and then Lexi who coordinates job placement and helps the women apply for suitable employment and find permanent housing. Some of these women have left bad marriages or relationships, some have been assaulted and just need somewhere else to be for a while to recover, some can’t go home, the ones that have children go into protective custody but often they stay here for up to a week until permanent housing becomes available.

  I barely get through the door when Reagan runs up to me and just about bowls me over.

  My eyes meet Jaxon’s as he stops and I can tell he isn’t sure what to do.

  It’s just a hug for Christ’s sake.

  Reagan is a kid who’s been here for just over a week and she’s twelve going on twenty. Her little dreadlocks stick every which way and they make her look super cute.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Morgan! Guess what we did today?”

  “What?” I ask as she links her arm through mine and we begin to walk through to the reception area.

  “We got to make piñatas.”

  I look down at her curiously. “Piñatas?” I laugh. “Why on earth would you need a piñata?”

  “To get the candy out, silly,” she says, shaking her head. “And its Jayme’s birthday, so Nancy said we could do something fun for her.”

  “Oh,” I realize. “Well, that’s pretty cool, what was your piñata?”

  “A llama,” she says. Of course. She loves llamas for some reason. “It’s rainbow-colored, it took me two days to finish.”

  “You’ll have to show me.”

  “Will you help me break it open?”

  “Of course.” I smile down at her. “But I have to go check on a couple of things with the girls first, so I’ll come to the play area in about half an hour, is that alright?”

  “Alright, but hurry,” she says as she sprints off. “I have to find something to hang it off.”

  “Get Lexi or Jayme to help you,” I call out after her, shaking my head.

  “She’s full of beans today,” Imogen laughs.

  “Isn’t she always?”

  One of the things that break you is seeing children hurt. Reagan’s mother was physically assaulted by her husband and Reagan was a bystander to the abuse, she’s come a long way but there is still so much to do, they’ll have housing soon and Reagan’s mom has a job lined up. I hope she makes it.

  Women often go back to their partners, especially when finances are impossible as a single parent. Usually, it’s for the sake of the children regardless of the environment it puts them in. I want to change all of
that. We even want to implement an education program for women to get their diplomas and qualifications so they can get better jobs.

  Jaxon follows behind silently as I say hello to the staff and poke my head in the office to say hi to Grace.

  I stop and have a look in the warehouse and see a new shipment has come in. We get women’s hygiene and sanitary products and cosmetic items from a lot of our sponsors. Thanks to Dixie, Macy’s is a big donator and they even do some advertising campaigns a couple of times a year, thank goodness for friends in high places.

  “These are great.” Imogen holds up a purse-sized travel bag in hot pink, it’s filled with miniature bottles of shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, and other cosmetic items.

  “Fancy,” I agree. “Love it, there are two more crates over there.”

  I also see a boxes and boxes of stationery items, pens, pads, paper, diaries, and another large container of new towels and face washers. There are rows and rows of supplies on the shelves as well as a store cupboard for linen and laundry.

  I have a quick catch up with Nancy while Imogen chats to Grace about anything she can help with paperwork-wise. Imogen is a chartered accountant so she knows her shit when it comes to back office stuff. I’m so grateful to her for coming on board, she’s a godsend.

  “We have that leadership awards dinner next month,” I remind Nancy as I sit in her office with a cup of tea. “And I don’t mean to spring this on you but now seems like a good time as any to bring it up, so I want you to know I have nominated you for the woman of the year award in business and I’ve got Grace to second the nomination.”

  Nancy was the house-wife of an abusive ex-husband who was a drunk. I met her at a conference in San Francisco when I was a guest at one of the charities I attended, we got talking and she had all these big plans to open a center in Manhattan. I was so awestruck by her passion and her ideas that I immediately wanted to be involved, I’ve always wanted to focus my attention on philanthropy and put some of my money into giving back and this seemed like a perfect fit, it all fell into place so well. The rest is history. I love this woman; she’s like a second mom to me.