A shiver runs through me. I meant what I said to Jax last week about hating the fact that Steve never gave me what I asked for in the bedroom. I've always known I wasn't a vanilla-sex kind of person, but I've never had partners that would give me what I want. Even my threesome in high school was as PG as a threesome can get, a sloppy night with two teenage boys that didn't know what they were doing. I've always wanted it to be a little filthy, a little rough, a little degrading.
I want exactly what Jax described. I would love to be forced onto my knees. To be spanked until my ass is pink and then fucked until I can’t remember what it feels like to be empty.
But the thought of Jax being the one to do it... is not something I've ever imagined.
Now I can'tstopimagining it.
Jax back at the gym, pressing me against the wall, taunting me with his dirty words before grabbing me by the throat and pushing me down—
My breath catches at the fantasy that my memory just built. He must be remembering the same thing because as soon as we make eye contact, his hand pauses on my neck, and I swear I see a tinge of pink bloom on his cheeks.
Jax pulls his hand away and clears his throat. He doesn't look at me as he says, "So, uh, you should probably block his number, right? I mean, if his messages bother you this much you should probably just block them entirely."
I laugh nervously. "Yeah, probably." But for a reason I can’t yet make sense of, I can’t actually bring myself to do that.
I twirl the beer in front of me before taking another long drink. "Have you ever had a bad breakup?" I ask, trying to mask the sudden—and entirely unexpected—strain between us.
He chuckles, just as nervously. "I mean, the Kara one sucked, but that one was on me. I got too sucked into fighting and didn't treat her the way she deserved to be treated." He quiets for a moment, looking thoughtful and sad. "I hated that breakup because I regretted my part in it. I probably should've fought harder for her afterwards, but I knew she was right to break up with me. She deserved better."
If this is what I sound like when I'm talking badly about myself then I completely understand why Jax gets frustrated with me. This sucks to listen to.
"Jax, you didn't do it on purpose," I admonish quietly. "You had just gone pro, you were looking for jobs... you just had a lot on your plate. And you were young. It's not your fault you two matched at the wrong time."
He shines a grateful smile at me, then reaches over to playfully tug on my hair. "Always so wise," he mutters.
I smile, exhaling a grateful breath that the air has lightened and no longer feels tense between us. I take a long swallow of my drink, welcoming the comfortable buzz of the alcohol. Then I turn my body and full attention toward Jax. "So. I knew your type then, what about now? What are you looking for?"
His eyes light with something I can't decipher as he contemplates my question. Then he turns back to his beer with a sigh. "I don't know what I want. It's not like anything I'm doing is actually working, I'm basically just finding women that want to sleep with me."
I roll my eyes. "Such a hardship," I tease.
He gives me a playful grin. "Don't get me wrong, it's fun, but... it gets boring after a while. Either they don't want to pursue something or I don't, and then it's over. So what was the point?"
I study him thoughtfully. "So, you want a girlfriend but don't know what you're looking for?"
He winces at that. "I mean, I don'tneeda girlfriend. I'm fine with just sex, I just wish it didn't feel as meaningless, you know?"
I nod in understanding, even as the thought of sex with Jax starts taking over my brain again. Jax above me, whispering dirty things in my ear, Jax behind me, pulling my hair as he drives into me, Jax below me—
Jesus Christ, I need to get a grip on myself. You'd think I haven't gotten laid in months.
"I totally get it," I manage to squeak. I clear my throat and chug half my drink in an effort to cover my weird tone.
I can feel Jax studying me, so I avoid looking at him. God forbid he figure out the very inappropriate, not-friendly direction my thoughts have taken.
He looks at my almost-empty beer bottle. "Do you want another one?"
I hurriedly shake my head. If I keep drinking, I'm just going to end up admitting something I shouldn't.
Like how I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to sleep with my best friend.
"No, I'm okay. I should actually get going. I'm not used to drinking as much as I have been lately so I'm trying to slow it down a little, especially with Vegas next week."
Jax gives me a quizzical look as I climb off the barstool. "Vegas?"
I quirk an eyebrow. "I guess Remy didn't tell you, then. We're flying out for Tristan's fight next week. Just for the day but we managed to snag cheap last-minute flights. So we're coming out on Saturday."
His jaw drops. "You're coming to Vegas?" he repeats in shock.