Shit.
“Mother Nature hasn’t given up since yesterday,” I point out. Yeah, my voice is a little squeaky, but Jax is my Achilles heel, it seems. “She’s a relentless bitch, that one,” I add, once again losing control of my mouth.
“Plenty of other things to do,” he reminds me as he bends and starts running a trail of warm, incredibly soft kisses down my neck.
When I start to push him away, he grabs my wrists and pins my arms against the wall, never stopping his ministrations as he nips my neck. His hips do some swirling thing, letting me feel the hard ridge he’s packing. My legs shake and almost buckle, but I force myself to stay upright.
“You’d love every second of it. So many things I can do to you,” he goes on.
“Please do them in another room.” Dad’s voice is abrupt, and I squeal as Jax jerks back and hops away from me.
Jax is battling a grin as Dad stares at him with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s not so intimidating in a neon green speedo, though.
“For the love of Pete,” I groan. “Board shorts. Wear them.”
Dad glances down, then he puts his hands on his hips before doing some weird hip roll daughters should not be subjected to seeing. I gag, and he looks back at me.
“Nope. I like my speedos. Much more flattering.”
He str
uts away, and I look over at Jax as he finally lets go of the laughter he’s been holding back.
“I guess we’ll have a raincheck,” I tell him. “Mood is dead.”
At least Dad gave me an excuse to get out of that.
Jax’s eyes dance with humor as he flashes his smile at me. “Deal.”
***
Still Fake Period Day 3
The house is quiet as I make my way toward the bedroom, but then I hear a voice and my footsteps reflexively pause.
“I haven’t been able to speak to him since right after we landed. He hasn’t answered my calls or even bothered to call me back,” Viv is saying to someone.
Really shouldn’t eavesdrop…
“No,” she says, apparently talking on the phone. “No texts or emails either. I even left a message telling him about the house fire, and still nothing. I can’t tell Mom or Dad. They’ll be sending someone to our house to make him call me. This is embarrassing enough.”
I peek around the corner and find her in the dark den with nothing but the moonlight illuminating her. Even though she hasn’t been too nice to me, I can’t help but feel bad for her when she wipes a tear from her cheek.
“I know marriage is hard. He said he needed some space, which is why he didn’t come—the real reason. The recent promotion—if that’s what you can call it—was just an excuse he gave me. I didn’t know space meant not answering calls from his wife.”
Deciding I have no right to be hearing this, I head up the stairs and pretend I never heard a thing. Jax is breathing evenly in the bed when I finally have the nerve to join him.
I had Dad play board games with me most of the night to keep Jax from dragging me upstairs after all his promises of debauchery.
My period is obviously not the deterrent I thought it would be.
The sheet is pooled at his waist, and I can tell he’s still naked. At least he’s asleep tonight. Like a total pervert, I stand beside the bed and admire the view for a minute.
His inky black hair is tousled and part of it is flopped over his forehead. One hand is behind his head, while the other is under the sheet, possibly resting on the part of his body I’ve been trying to avoid.
Sighing, I ease into bed, trying not to wake him, but the second I close my eyes, two arms come around me and he presses a kiss against my shoulder before mumbling something in his sleep about games and lies.
His warm breath fans my shoulder as he gets still again, and I try not to enjoy the way he feels against me. Which is impossible, since I sort of love it. Even in his sleep, he holds me like he actually wants me, and that internal war rages on.