He grins, wrapping his own towel around his waist. I'm momentarily distracted by the sudden need to lap up the water droplets that are currently running down his abs and disappearing into said towel.
"Better than the orgasm you just had?" he teases, interrupting my daze.
Dear Lord, how do I want himagain?I've never been this hard-up before. This is insane.
"Even better than that," I tease with a smile. His brow furrows, and he slaps my ass in retaliation.
"Want me to make you eat your words?"
I raise an eyebrow. "I'd rather eat you," I counter smoothly.
Now it's his eyebrows at his hairline. I've hardly ever been a confident, dirty-talking sex fiend, so even I'm surprised at the words that leave my lips.
Looks like I just needed a few orgasms.
"Not before I've fed you," he responds seriously, turning and nudging me out of the bathroom. "I assume you haven’t eaten since the airport so we're ordering in and watching something on TV while we wait. No sex-eyes until then."
I breathe an exaggerated sigh but start to walk toward his bedroom. "Yes, sir."
I don't see it, but Ifeelhis pause. I look over my shoulder with a smirk.
He's standing frozen in the doorway, even the water droplets freezing on their path down his body. "I... don't know how to feel about that one," he admits. "But you should probably put your clothes on before I decide I like it a little too much."
I chuckle but do as he suggests.
We spend the night watchingOfficereruns on the couch, where I sit curled up under Jax's arm and fighting the urge to fall asleep. I'm feeling too elated, toolight, to let the night end. Even the sight of a bear-sized Jax opening the front door to the wide-eyed Chinese food delivery driver makes me stupid happy. I laugh at the bewildered look on the man's face, and again when Jax winks at me.
We eat our food, half watching the TV and half talking about nothing in particular. We're both full, sleepy, and sated from the past few hours, cuddled up on the couch with my head in Jax’s lap, his fingers running through my hair. When I inevitably start to nod off, Jax leads me to bed and once again settles me under his arm. I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
It's the best night I've had in a very long time.
* * *
The next few days pass in a blur. I'm swamped in the café, and it's all I can do to stumble out of there every afternoon and somehow summon the energy to go home and do schoolwork. Thank God I'm only a part-time student right now because with the amount of responsibilities Stacey is pushing on me at the café, I would never have enough time or energy to do more than a three-class course load.
I spend every night with my nose in a textbook. Some nights, when she's not at the gym, Remy sits with me in the living room. Occasionally, she helps with my work, but more often than not, she's just there for moral support.
It's actually kind of nice. We both spread out on opposite ends of the couch, me running numbers for statistics and Remy plotting madly on her computer for whatever new novel idea she has in her head.
Despite the reason for me being in her apartment in the first place, I'm actually glad that I get to spend more time with my sister. Before she quit her job—and before my breakup—we rarely saw each other more than once a week. Now, it feels like we get to settle back into our pre-college relationship.
And other than the fact that I'm lying to her and sleeping with her best friend behind her back, everything is going great.
A nagging pit of dread appears in my stomach at the thought. Jax and I didn't exactly talk about Remy the other night, so I have no idea how we're supposed to handle this turn of events.
Should we tell her? Will she be mad?I have no idea how she'll react, and the thought of her being disappointed in me—or worse, inJax—has me hesitating to say anything.
Maybe I'll just wait a little bit before I tell her, just to see where this thing with Jax goes.
I automatically check my phone for the tenth time since I sat down. Jax and I have texted a little since the morning after I left his house—nothing really out of the ordinary for us, just the usual checking in during work and asking how my day went-type texts. The only difference now is the slight flirtatious undertone of each exchange. Or maybe that’s just my imagination because I can’t get Jax out of my head. He’s been busy with work and the gym during the week, so I haven't really been able to talk to him, let alone see him again.
And I'm not too ashamed to admit that it's driving me a little crazy.
Remy shakes me out of my dick-obsessed reverie when she closes her computer and stretches her arms above her head. "I think I'm going to skip the gym tonight," she groans. "Coach put us through an insane workout this week, and I swear I'm still feeling it days later." She drops her arms and turns her attention to me. "Wanna hang out instead? I feel like the only time I've seen you lately is when we're both working. What have you been up to?"
I have no idea how my face doesn't flame red at her question.
Oh, nothing. I've just been flirting with your best friend, until finally we both gave in, and he fucked more orgasms out of me in one night than I can count on one hand. Nothing special.