by BJ Harvey
“Fuck no, she’s not.”
He nods, his eyes shining with pride and what I’m reading as approval. “So how long have you been involved?”
“Technically? We’re not officially.”
His expression turns confused. “Explain?” he asks, his forehead bunched impossibly tight.
“Well, not to get too detailed, out of respect for her, but we’ve known each other for almost a year, and only acted on our feelings on Saturday.”
Joey holds up his finger, his gaze lifting toward the ceiling, his lips counting out numbers. “She submitted her statement to my office on Friday.” I nod, still surprised Ronnie preempted anything that might’ve happened between us before anything actually happened.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss this situation with her in detail—”
“But you acted on your feelings without talking?” he asks, lifting a brow, his lips twitching. “That’s impressive even for you, Jax. I’ve seen you work fast before, but it always involved you talking. You could charm the pants off any available female within a ten-mile radius in your heyday.”
I laugh at that before digging in to my pancakes and bacon. “Not that you can talk. Remember that trip to Miami for that fashion shoot and—”
“And,” he says, spearing me with a look, “what went on between me and those two models shall never be spoken of again. What happens on location, stays on location.” His smirk proves he’s so full of shit.
“So, about Ronnie. What can we do to ensure whatever happens between us doesn’t affect her progress?”
He studies me from over the top of his coffee cup. I match his stare, hoping he’ll see just how serious I am about this.
He sighs, shaking his head and putting his mug back on the table. Sitting up straight, he leans down to rummage in his bag before pulling out a piece of paper and holding it and a pen toward me. He leans forward on his elbows, pointing to the document in my hand.
“Complete that, agree to the conditions, and I’ll personally grade every one of her assignments. There will be no room for any accusation of impropriety or favoritism, and once she’s passed the semester—if she passes—then you two can go on to live a happy life together.” He grins wryly as he meets my eyes. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding.”
My eyes bug out of my head, my mouth dropping open as my chest seizes. Who fucking said anything about marriage?
“Joey, I haven’t even taken her out on a date.”
He shrugs, returning his attention to the omelet on his plate. “I have a good feeling about this one. She’s smart, she got one past you, and she’s not afraid to put herself and her future on the line for whatever may or may not happen between the two of you. That takes balls.”
He’s not wrong. Now, I’m feeling the pressure of making all that effort worth it.
Lucky for me—and Ronnie—that’s a challenge I’m more than up for, because if she’s that certain about us, then I’m damn well going to make sure I give her something to be certain about.
Ronnie
I’d received a text from Jax mid-afternoon while I was running on my treadmill, giving me an address for coffee. I am under no illusion that we’ll actually drink coffee, nor do I actually want to—drink coffee that is. It has only been three days since I took the bull by the horns, so to speak, and already, I am ready for another ride.
I went six months without sex and somehow, three days after having Jax, I need another fix.
However, having entered his address into my car’s GPS, what I don’t expect to pull up to is a giant Barbie-pink monstrosity that looks like a wonky castle—a wonky, seen-better-days eyesore that should be leveled instead of flipped.
I’ve been to each of the houses Jamie and his brothers have worked on so far, and none of them ever came close to being this rundown before they were renovated. I knew Jax was living in the “pink house,” as it was slated by Jamie and April, but I didn’t know it was this bad.
Putting my Prius in park, I look out my window and take a minute to try and see whatever potential the guys must’ve conjured up when they bought this place.
The trim is pink, the porch is pink, the damn door is fuchsia and the turrets—yes, it even has two freaking towers on either side—are too-much-sun-in-summer pink. It’s so bright and garish it’s giving me flashbacks of my childhood when my mom would make Gilly and I wear matching froufrou dresses to church every Sunday, the kind that would enter the building before we did.
My perusal is interrupted when my phone vibrates on the passenger seat.
Jax—Are you going to sit out there and admire Her Majesty or come inside and get a private tour?
Ronnie—I’m too scared to come any closer in case Barbie and her merry minions hold me captive and roll me in pink glitter.
Jax—Now, now, don’t besmirch the house without seeing her in all her grand, blushing beauty.
Ronnie—She’s blushing alright, with embarrassment. Barbie called, she wants her Dream House back.
Jax—Barbie is too busy getting porked by Ken. She’s moved on to a beach house in Malibu, playing happy polygamy with Ken and his transgender lover, Kendra.
Ronnie—You seem to know a lot about Barbie.
Jax—Just get your ass out of that prissy Prius and come inside.
Ronnie—If I start turning blonde and saying like in every sentence, promise you’ll take me out the back and put me out of my misery.
Jax—Veronica…
Ronnie—Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, Ken.
Jax—Fucking finally, Barbie.
Ronnie—Call me that again, and you’ll start sounding like my prissy Prius.
I grab my purse and get out of the car, locking it behind me and walking through—you guessed it—the pink picket-fence gate toward the front door. He appears just as I step onto the porch.
“Did you find the place okay?” he says with a grin.
“NASA called, said I couldn’t miss the massive pink pimple called your house.”
He throws his head back and laughs, giving me pause as my eyes take in the beautiful sight. When he moves on to a deep, rumbling chuckle, I meet his amused brown eyes.
“Come here, beautiful.” He holds out his hand for mine. As soon as my palm slides against his, he tangles our fingers, tugs on my arm, and pulls me into him. His mouth descends for a soft and sweet kiss, leaving tingles in its wake when he pulls back disappointingly quickly.
Part of me was hoping coffee was code for giving me a belated round two of mind-blowingly hot sex, but when he leads me inside, shutting the door behind us, he doesn’t pick up where he so promisingly left off. Instead, he lets go of my hand and holds out his arms.
I stare up at him, dumbfounded, not exactly sure what is going on.
“Your coat, beautiful.”
Oh… ohhhh. Gentleman Jax is in the house. I slip it off and hand it to him, watching as he opens a closet and hangs it up.
“I promise it will come out the same color it went in,” he says.
“Can you make me the same promise?”
“Depends on what you’re into.”
I quirk a brow, my lips twitching as I unsubtly run my eyes over his body. He’s wearing a pair of low-slung jeans and a plain black tee that looks like it was made to be worn by him and him alone. His hair is disheveled in his own styled way, and his jaw is covered in short stubble that is giving me so many great ideas of how I could fully enjoy its texture and friction on certain sensitive parts of my body.
“Fuck, you look sexy when you’re checking me out.”
My eyes snap back to his. “What?” I say with an awkward ‘I’ve been sprung’ laugh.
Closing the distance between us, he rests his hands on my hips, his fingers biting into my skin through my skirt. He dips his head so he’s all I can see, his hooded gaze dropping to the low V of my shirt. “When you’re turned on, your eyes get darker, and you bite your lip�
�” He lifts one hand to my cheek and runs his thumb over my skin to release the firm hold of my top teeth. “You give me ideas I said I wouldn’t entertain tonight.”
I jerk back at that. “Why not?” I ask without thinking, totally giving myself away.
A slow-growing smirk curves his lips. “Because we started this thing off between us with a bang—”
That makes me snort and his eyes crinkle at the sides.
“And I’d like to get to know the woman behind the fucking fantastic body, amazing smile, and smart mouth before we get back to the—”
“Banging? I’m all for that. More banging, I say.”
He lowers his mouth to mine, chuckling against my lips, which just serves to make me want him more. I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him in tight. Our teeth clash, our tongues tangle, and when I lift up on my toes, I run my fingers up into the back of his hair, gripping tight and deepening the kiss. His answering guttural groan is so damn sexy I near-on climax right there in the pink entryway of the very pink house.
Just as I’m thinking this ‘coffee’ is going in the right direction, Jax ends said great kiss and takes a step back, unabashedly reaching down to readjust himself before grinning at me. “That’s definitely a good way to say hello,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading me through a white wooden, rather eccentric-looking doorway into a garishly blush living room.
I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes wide as I take in the pink velvet, the gold trim, the sparkling, textured white ceiling, and the collection of art on every wall that looks like it has come straight out of the 70s. “You bought this house furnished?” I squeak, unable to stop myself.
Jax shakes his head, his lips quirked. “It was take it or walk away. It was a deceased estate, so it was in all parties’ interest to have a quick close and an all-encompassing sale. That means tomorrow, it’s all hands on deck to move anything of value or worth keeping to our storage unit. Everything else is being donated to co-op shops.”
“Wow,” I whisper, lost for words. This is more than just a pink house. It’s a damn fuchsia fun land. “This could be a museum to Strawberry Shortcake or Pinkie Pie.”
“Strawberry who-now?”
My head twists Exorcist-style toward Jax, my brows bunched. “I thought you have a sister.”
“I do.”
“And did she not get a chance to watch anything other than baseball, car racing, or boobs for her entire childhood?”
He chuckles. “Well there was one TV, and she had four brothers and her father to contend with. Let’s just say her and Mom used to escape the testosterone by going next door to the Bakers, where there were two girls and a Mrs. Baker, and Ezra would come join the locker room known as our house.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I have so much more respect for Abi and your mom now. To come out of that a well-adjusted, happy woman—”
He barks out a laugh. “Have you met my sister?”
“Well, your mom at least. Although she thinks I’m a sex addict who had to frig herself off in the middle of an engagement party because I couldn’t bear to wait another minute.”
His gaze turns so hot, I swear I’m burning up on the spot. “I don’t think you could wait any longer,” he says, taking one step toward me. “I think you had to walk away with the hope I’d follow you.” He takes another step. “And the moment I saw you…” He moves closer again. “. . . the moment I knew you wanted me…” One of his hands goes to my hip, my legs walking backward as he pushes me until my back meets the wall. Then his body is pressing into mine—every hard inch from chest to pelvis—and his mouth dipping to mine. “When I saw that you were aching for me as much as I was craving you…” My chest is heaving, my limbs trembling, my heart thundering, and my thighs are clenched tight to quell my soaked core. “When I knew this dance of ours was coming to a climax… it was a miracle I waited long enough to close the damn door before throwing you on the bed.”
I turn my head, his lips ghosting over my jaw as he moves down to my neck, peppering my sensitive skin with soft, open-mouthed kisses.
“Is this… what you meant by coffee?” I breathe, my legs turning to mush. “Because if it is, I’m definitely in need of a caffeine injection.”
He chuckles against my collarbone, and it’s a close second to him laughing against my lips. With one final kiss to my neck—this time with suction and a gentle scrape of his teeth—he lifts his head, his hands holding me in place on my hip and bicep. “Tonight isn’t about—”
“Coffee?” I ask, biting my lip.
“Yes, but tonight’s invitation, it wasn’t an excuse to get you naked again.”
I look up at him, pressing my breasts into his chest and running my fingers around his neck. “I’m not complaining if it was the means to get me here. I wanted to be with you on Saturday, and I want to be with you again.”
His eyes burn into mine, and it’s the most serious I’ve seen him. “I know you handed in that piece of paper, but if anything changes, I want you to know I get how much is at stake.”
Wow. I mean… my lips part as my breath catches. Sincere, honest, completely selfless Jax is a sight to behold. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience because no one close to me has ever put me first. Never. I’ve always been the one who had to do what I was told, follow the family rules, meet their expectations, or else suffer the unspoken wrath of my father.
Tears sting my eyes. I quickly move my arms back, swipe at my cheeks, and then duck my head down to hide my completely unexpected reaction to his words.
Jax isn’t having a bar of that though. He glides his hand from my shoulder to my jaw, tilting my face up to his. His jaw ticks before I’m moving, and not of my own volition. Jax bends down, lifts me up—bridal-style—and carries me over to a plastic-sheet-covered antique couch. In the blink of an eye, I’m positioned in the seat beside him, my legs hooked over his, with one arm around my waist pulling me close.
“What are those tears for?” he says softly, sweeping his thumb across my cheek.
I rest my hands on his waist, trying to formulate the words to explain what I’m feeling without sounding like a crackpot. In the end, I decide to just go with the truth.
“This feels more than just physical attraction to me. I know I should’ve told you about the class, but we didn’t exactly talk the other night. Being proactive, I read the non-frat policy and decided to take a stand ahead of time in case what I wanted to happen actually did happen.” I take a deep breath and lose myself in his soft eyes. “If you want to take this slow, I’m totally onboard with that. If you want to wait until the semester is over, that’s okay too. I just need you to know that I want to see where this—us—could go.”
“Beautiful,” he says, a lazy grin curving his lips. He wraps his arm around my back and pulls me closer. “I wanted you the day we met, and I have ever since then. Saturday was destined to happen. It was a certainty, not a maybe.” His gaze roams my face before locking with mine once more. “I don’t want to have to wait until after this semester, but I do want to make sure we do this right.”
“So, dating?” I ask. His smile turns coy, and I almost swear he blushes a little.
“Dating. Spending time together. Publicly. Privately. With people and without. Dating.”
I open my mouth to ask whether it includes naked time together, but his index finger against my lips stops me. The amused gleam in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I was going to say.
“But, I want to keep it off-campus. This is between us and only us. We’ve covered the administration side so we’re not at risk of breaching any policies. That’s not to say there wouldn’t be questions asked and eyebrows raised by fellow students.”
I nod, my hormones taking a back seat in light of Jax’s level-headed and logical thought process. Whoever thought he’d be the sensible one out of the two of us? Here I am, all pent up and ready to jump his bones at every turn, and he’s
all ‘slow and steady wins the race.’ Then again, I’ve always been a fan of being chased.
“Okay. But two questions before I agree to go steady.”
His lips twitch, a slow-growing half-grin making my stomach do somersaults in the best possible way.
“Hit me,” he replies.
“How will the class be affected? I can’t exactly have my boyf—guy I’m dating….”
His eyes crinkle at the sides at my self-censor. “Man-servant, sex slave, whipping boy…”
“Guy I’m dating… mark my portfolio.”
“Well, no. That’s why Professor Blackman will be doing it.”
I stop breathing. “The dean? Jax, I’m not sure about that.”
His face softens. “He’s my friend and has been my mentor since the start of my career. There’s no tougher critic but no one else I trust more than Joey.” He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers with mine. “You’ll learn more in a semester than some people do over their whole degree.”
“As long as it’s not going to be a problem.”
“Better a problem than you having to defer the course until next year,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple. “Besides, I’m still your professor. I still get to teach you everything I know.”
I snort, burying my face in his shoulder as I succumb to an immature giggling fit.
When my laughter slows to a snicker, Jax’s hand loosely grips the side of my head, gently easing me back so he can look at me. His eyes dance; his mouth is curved.
“Damn, beautiful. Your laugh is almost as sexy as your moan when I’m deep inside you.” That makes me whimper, and his eyes darken with heat.
“There’s one…” I say, my voice a low rasp. “One more question. Remember?” I clear my throat, Jax’s gaze roaming down my front as I do. I place the tip of an index finger under his chin and push up until he’s staring at me again. He shakes his head as if to clear the lust-fueled haze.
“Right,” he says, sitting up straight but not setting me aside or separating us at all. “The second question.”