Jaxon - Bad Boys of New York Book #1

by Mackenzy Fox

  “Who cares what they think?” I shrug. I certainly don’t.

  She looks down at her hands but doesn’t let go. “Thanks, Jax, I owe you one.”

  I glance down at her hands too, still balled up into fists. “I’ll take you home?” I suggest.

  She nods and then looks back up at me, something about this moment electrifies as we stare at each other. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’m feeling very overprotective of her right now or the fact she’s crying and very well on the verge of a meltdown, but I pull her close to me and embrace her in a hug, crushing her to my chest.

  She lets go and I feel the gentle shudder of her silent sobs.

  Something is fucking wrong here and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

  I don’t know how long we stand there for but when she pulls back out of my embrace, I pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and hand it to her.

  “You have a thing with handkerchiefs?” she says, wiping her eyes.

  “I’ve been around women long enough to know they come in handy,” I reply, her face is lovely even when she’s done crying.

  “I’m so embarrassed. I’m just being silly, feeling nostalgic or something.” She brushes it off like it’s nothing and I shake my head realizing she’s not going to tell me shit.

  Every fiber of my being tells me this whole situation is far from being silly or nostalgic; in fact, this runs far deeper than I first thought.

  I take the handkerchief back and wipe the mascara that’s run gently across her cheek until it’s all gone. I don’t care but she wouldn’t want anyone seeing her unglued like this.

  “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” I say when I’m finished. “You’ve got this, MJ.”

  My eyes still hold hers as I pluck my phone out of my top pocket and dial Chase, she moves her hands to clutch my wrist like she can’t let go of me. I realize I don’t want her to.

  He picks up on the first ring.

  “I’m taking Morgan home, she’s feeling unwell,” I state curtly.

  “Everything okay?” he asks over the loud throng of music that’s just started.

  “Yes. Make sure you get Dixie and Jolie home safe, we’ll take the limo.”

  “Okay, bro.”

  “Call me later.”

  “Got it.”

  I hang up and dial Marcy.

  “Marcy, we’re ready to go.”

  “No problems, Jax, I’ll be out the front in a couple of minutes.”

  I slide my phone in my back pocket.

  Lennox appears out of the French doors and I give him a nod.

  “We’re leaving.”

  He frowns when he sees Morgan in my arms.

  “She’s not feeling well,” I explain.

  He nods. “I’ll call Marcy.”

  “There’s no need, it’s already done.”

  “I’ll follow you back, Ryan will stay with Chase,” he says.

  I nod as he disappears back inside.

  “Come on,” I say to Morgan steadily. “We’ll go out the side entrance.”

  She lets go of me and hugs my jacket around her and I touch her gently at the hip as we make our way out the front to the limo.

  Once inside, I put the partition up and Morgan rests her head on my shoulder. It’s such a familiar yet strange movement that I keep rigid in my seat, unsure how to react.

  “Your jacket smells good,” she tells me.

  I chuckle. “You sure about that?”

  She looks up at me with those big eyes and something’s changed in them. She’s looking at me differently. I’m so fucked it’s not even funny.

  I don’t touch her purposely but she wraps an arm around my waist. She’s very clingy and fragile; I need to know what’s going on, this isn’t her normal behaviour.

  “Are you alright?” I ask gently. “That was pretty full-on back there.”

  She nods. “I just need to hold you; you’re so warm, so safe.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

  A lump forms in my throat. She’s not even drunk. Two glasses of champagne and she didn’t even finish the second one.

  He’s done something to her, something really bad.

  Nobody reacts like that just from an old boyfriend breaking up with you.

  She turns her head to look up at me. “I’m sorry.”

  I brush her hair from her face and I know I shouldn’t be manhandling her but she’s just so fucking delicate. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  She bites her lip then her eyes flick down to my lips and my heart beats so hard in my chest, I’m sure she can hear it.

  Oh, fuck no.

  “Morgan…” I trail off. “We can’t…”

  She reaches up and kisses me softly, her plump, beautiful lips move over mine and know I shouldn’t but I definitely kiss her back. It’s tender, not drunken and frenzied like the last kiss. My dick kicks in my pants painfully at the sensual nature. I’m blown away by it.

  Shit. This isn’t a date though, I’m protecting her, I should stop it once and for all, but I don’t.

  It’s her that pulls back and I realize then and there that I want to do so much more. I don’t stop her as she wordlessly moves her hand to my knee, dangerous territory, as I watch her grip my leg tightly, her fingers moving to the inside of my thigh.

  She’s fucking seducing me.

  I want her to rub her hand over my growing bulge but that would be like torture. I want her mouth all over me, truth be told, the force of feeling grips me like a vice.

  I look back up at her and she smiles softly, her eyes sparkle like diamonds. She wants me but this ain’t gonna happen, not like this and not in the back of a limo. She’s upset and wants comfort and that would be taking advantage.

  I don’t know what that son of a bitch did but rest assured I’m going to find out, and when I do, I’ll have his fucking head on a platter.

  “You’re a goddamned beautiful woman, Morgan, but I’m your bodyguard,” I say as if we both need reminding.

  As much as I want to comfort her, give her my body, I can’t, this isn’t right, she trusts me.

  “Why does that matter?” she breathes. Her chest rises and falls like she’s out of breath.

  I don’t honestly know how we get from hot to cold to hot again, we’re masters at it without even trying.

  “You know why.”

  “You keep saying I’m beautiful.”

  “You are, it’s just a fact.”

  “But you don’t want me like that?” she whispers.

  “Didn’t say that. I said I’m your bodyguard, that’s why we can’t.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “So, quit.”

  My shoulders shake from my laugher as she looks up at me quite seriously.

  “Are you for real? Is that your solution? Quit?” I laugh again. “You’ve changed your tune.”

  She frowns, obviously not liking that answer. “Do you like your job?” she questions.

  I turn to her in the chair. “Your father called me; truth be told this isn’t what I do any more,” I explain. Well, she needs to know. “I run clubs and bars now; I did security detail for a few years after I left the military, I enjoyed it, working for your father was a favor to him because he needed me, he loves you, he doesn’t trust many people.”

  I let that sit with her for a moment.

  Her eyes go wide. “You were in the military, what was that like?”

  I shake my head. “You don’t want to know, let’s just say clubs are a hell of a lot easier and a lot less dangerous.”

  “Wow. Did you blow shit up and shoot guns and stuff?”

  I shake my head, exasperated. “There’s a lot more to it than that but yes.”

  “Did you kill people?”

  I try not to shudder at the memories. “Yes, that’s part of it.”

  She absorbs that for a second. “Why’d you quit?” she asks eventually.

  That’s a lot of questions.

  I shrug. “I got shot, had some bad inj
uries that affected my ability to be a soldier to the highest level.” I point to my shoulder and my knee.

  “You got shot?” she asks, shocked.

  “Yep, more than once.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Trust me, he didn’t help,” I muse. “Anyway, the point is that I got out, I was getting too old and truth be told I didn’t love it like I did in the beginning, the dynamics were changing in the Middle East.”

  She snorts. “Old? You’re not even thirty.”

  “In the military, MJ, that’s old when you don’t function perfectly and I didn’t want a desk job, that was never on the agenda.”

  She ponders that for a moment.

  “Why bars and clubs then?” she wonders. It’s the first time she’s seemed interested in anything about me or my life.

  “They make good money,” I shrug. “Friend of mine got the down-low on a great property but it was run down and he didn’t have the cash upfront; so I bought in and we built the place up, the Whiskey Bar was my first joint then we got After Dark.”

  “With Chase?”

  “Yeah, he’s my manager, best friend, wingman… he’s a good guy.”

  “Dixie really likes him,” she says quietly.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that, but his life’s kind of crazy,” I admit, wondering if I tell her how much of a playboy he really is.

  “She’s a big girl,” Morgan retorts. “You’ve probably noticed she’s also a ball buster.”

  “That I have.” I turn to look at her. “What about you, why are you sworn off men for life?”

  “What makes you say that?” she frowns.

  I give her a pointed look. “You said so in the alleyway, after your ex…” I leave out the obvious part as well about Brandon spooking her.

  “Oh, Ethan… yeah, I sure know to pick them,” she says sarcastically. “Walking disaster area.”

  “What happened with him?” I press, though I know the logistics of it. He was a cheat.

  I don’t know why I’m asking her this but I want to know more.

  “After Ethan, I swore to myself I’d never get lost in another man again,” she sighs. “I trusted him and he broke that trust. In the end, when it was over, I didn’t know who I was anymore, I’d lost all sense of myself and what I even wanted, I wasn’t living for me, I was living for him and it took the breakup for me to realize that.”

  The confines of that kind of relationship are why I’ve stayed single. It’s just too complicated.

  “I hear you; people can fuck you up forever.”

  She bites her lip, deliberating something. I give her a lopsided smirk.

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Did someone fuck you up?” she asks quietly.

  Only you, princess.

  I shrug. “Never been in love, I wouldn’t know.”

  She frowns. “Why not, have you never felt that way about anybody?”

  I think about it for a moment. “I care for women, I had a couple of serious relationships when I was younger but I never wanted to take the next step, I wasn’t ready, I was too young then, I was an asshole but I was an honest asshole, I never did the dirty or anything but I wanted to be free. Trust me, they were better off back then, I wasn’t suited to being in anything long-term.”

  I realize I’ve never told anybody so much about myself, I’ve never really had women as friends, and you don’t really talk to guys about any of this stuff. Chase would just tell me to toughen up and take a teaspoon of cement.

  The limo comes to a slow. “We’re here,” I declare. An awkward silence falls between us.

  My hand is on the door at the same time that Marcy opens it.

  “Thank you,” I say to Marcy as Morgan steps out behind me, giving her a nod.

  “Goodnight,” Marcy smiles, closing the door behind us.

  “Goodnight, Marcy,” Morgan replies.

  I greet Ray and we wait for the elevator, we say nothing more about old flames and fuck-ups.

  We even ride the elevator in silence.

  When we get to our floor, I walk her to the door but I make sure I step back, I don’t need her trying to kiss me again.

  She turns to me. “Thank you for tonight, Jaxon.”

  I shrug, my hands in my pockets. “I’m just here if you need me.” I nod to my door.

  She bites her lip again like she’s about to ask something.

  I’m not going in there.

  I want her so bad.

  I step back further.

  “I’m sorry for kissing you,” she says, wincing. “I shouldn’t have done that again, though I seem to be saying that a lot lately.”

  I smile gently. “It’s alright.” I give her a wink. “At least this time you weren’t drunk.”

  She rolls her eyes at me.

  I nod to her door. “Get on inside.”

  “Jaxon…”

  I shake my head gently. “Goodnight, MJ, go to bed.”

  She scans her card at the door as I walk backwards. “Sweet dreams.”

  She smiles softly and turns to the door. “You too.”

  I watch as she shuts it behind her with a gentle click and I go to my door and look back at hers. I wonder if she’s still behind it. I shake off the sight of her, terrified and looking up at me, there’s no way I could take advantage of that.

  She doesn’t really want me, she wants the protection, I think she likes the comfort of a big strong man, as much as she is independent in her own right, there is nothing wrong with wanting a protector, it’s the man’s job, and it seems Morgan isn’t used to that. She’s used to dating dickheads and losers and guys who probably just satisfy themselves in the bedroom. I’m a very unselfish lover, not that she’ll get to find out, but I am, I take a woman’s needs very seriously.

  All I can think about is her lips kissing me gently in the car, she definitely shouldn’t have done that, but something else supersedes my lustful thoughts; finding out about Brandon Thomas and what he did. The need to know all the details will haunt my dreams until I find out.

  And I know just who to call.

  18

  Morgan

  “Final call for Flight 6057 to San Francisco.” The louder speaker announces. I glance over to Jaxon, he’s on the phone and he’s been pacing back and forth for a good ten minutes, every now and again, his eyes come to me and he looks even more pissed off.

  I wonder who’s on the line and what they’re saying, but whatever it is, it doesn’t seem like good news.

  Lori is prattling on in my ear as she stands and stretches. “Come on, Morgan, you want to miss the flight?”

  I down my spritzer and follow her out of the lounge. Jaxon and Ryan are behind us and Lennox is in front. We board and Jaxon sits opposite me in the business class section. He seems unimpressed by his surrounds and I wonder if he’s either flown too many times business class or if it has something to do with that phone call. He seems very on edge.

  Neither of us brought up anything about what happened over the weekend, and I don’t know what possessed me to kiss him in the limo; my emotions after seeing Brandon again got the better of me.

  Whatever happens, he is determined to keep this professional and I should too. I can’t even blame the booze this time which is really lame.

  He was intoxicating. The way he handled the situation, his strong hold on me as he led me out of the room, the way he took me home and made sure I got there safely.

  I shake off the memory of seeing Brandon with a shudder as I close my eyes. When I open them again, Jaxon is staring at me. I fake a smile.

  “Are you cold?” he asks me, quite concerned. He’s been like this all week, strangely attentive.

  I shake my head. “No, thank you though.”

  He hasn’t asked for his dinner jacket back yet and I haven’t offered it, in fact, I even packed it in my suitcase thinking he might need it. I may have done the unthinkable and sniffed it but one can hardly blame me, his aftershave is musky and masculine, i
t would be a crime not to.

  My life is tragic and I’m fully aware of it.

  I’ve never been a damsel in distress and I don’t need rescuing, but there’s something extremely fascinating about a man who can handle himself, who takes charge.

  I have come to realize that I do miss the comforts of a man, I miss having someone to wake up next to, to have someone to snuggle with and spend my weekends with. I miss sex. Not that the sex was all that crash hot with Ethan, but it was mainly good until we grew apart.

  Has my life become sad and pathetic?

  I puzzle this newly found information as I scroll through the TV channels trying to find something good to watch.

  Jaxon sits there silent and unmoving as he pulls on his lip with his thumb and forefinger like he’s deep in thought. The hostess walks around with a tray of champagne glasses and hangs around Lennox and Ryan’s seats for way longer than required. Everyone avoids Jaxon, it’s like he’s giving off signals that he’s not to be disturbed.

  Since they’re on duty, she promptly returns with club sodas and a smile to boot and hangs around as they talk about the game. God, I hate football.

  When I glance back at Jaxon after picking my movie, he has his head back in the seat with his eyes closed. God, even while sleeping he’s a vision to look at. Always composed, always hard and in control.

  I’m glad I didn’t blurt out anything about the Brandon situation; I got pretty close to telling him. He can’t know any of that shit, he’d see me differently, he’d pity me and I don’t want his pity.

  He can never know.

  The way Brandon acts around me, like we’re buddies, like nothing happened. I cringe.

  We will never be buddies, we’ll never be anything, all I have is regret and sorrow for that part of my life.

  It’s something I’ll never get back no matter how hard I try.

  I’m tired as we get to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The suite is absolutely stunning, well done, Jolie, I am slightly horrified though that there’s an interconnecting door to Jaxon’s room but he insists this is needed as we’re not in the familiar routine of New York.

  As my suitcase and cabin bag is brought up, I kick my shoes off and tip the bellman as he leaves. Just as he does, Jaxon appears in the interconnecting doorway.