“You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Eight Ball.”
“I bet that’s what you tell all the ladies before they cross your threshold. You can save the adulation. No need to pander to my ego.” I give a sly wink. “You’re already set to get laid.”
“Ooh.” He winces as his head blows back an inch. Jax swings the door open. “Welcome to my middle grade chamber of horrors. Not much has changed in fifteen years.” He heads over to the dresser and lights a fat white candle sitting near his bed. “A touch of romance just for you.”
“That candle looks as if it’s been lit a time or two. It’s nice to know you have a routine, though.”
I step in to the ode to navy and oak. As a child, I always thought that Jaxson’s room was cavernous, and as an adult, I can confirm that this is very much true. The walls still hold that dark serious hue. His bed is the same oversized stately piece tucked under the window in the back. There’s a desk unit that looks as if it could house a call center for telemarketers, it’s that big—and a television the size of the wall tucked in an entertainment unit.
“I see you’ve made some technological upgrades since we last converged in your den of depravity. Did you know there was actually a club in high school comprised solely of girls you bedded in your coital chambers? Did your mother come in for nightly sheet inspections then, too?”
He thunders out a laugh and wraps his arms around my waist. Jaxson lands a soft kiss to the nape of my neck, and I spin into him. That cologne of his alone could qualify as my undoing, but it’s that heaven-kissed face, those dark brows that frame those high beams he calls eyes, that kissable mouth, and don’t even get me started on the scruff. I run my nails through it lightly as his fingers press into my back.
My eyes snag on the vast collection of model airplanes behind him, and my heart crashes and burns.
“You saved them.” I sigh as he turns to see what I’m so riveted by. Jax used to rush home after school just to work with those tiny meticulous pieces.
“Each and every one.” He pushes out a controlled breath at the sight. “My dad used to sit right beside me and we’d work on them together. Every time I look at them, I think of him.” His chin dips a moment. “Do you ever miss someone so much it’s like a knife to the heart?”
Yes, you.
“What am I saying?” He turns his attention back to me. “You probably miss your entire family seeing that you’re so far away.”
“That or I’m enjoying the buffer,” I tease.
His chest pumps as he examines my features. There is nothing as intense as having Jaxson’s white-hot spotlight over you. Having Jax look at me this way makes me feel seen like never before. It’s as if his eyes have the power to strip away the layers of who you’re pretending to be and get down to the raw, hardly recognizable person that you truly are. He sees the real you no matter how many masks you wear. Jax always knew me better than I knew myself. For so long I relegated to him the role as my conscious. He’s brilliant and beautiful, and I wish to God he were mine. Of all the things not to know, how can he not know that?
“Conner says you’re building a life-sized replica of the White House somewhere on the grounds.” I clear my throat as I change the subject. Although I’m not sure my brother is much of an improvement. “I suppose it’s never really going to get lonely over in the West Wing.” His dimple inverts, and my finger presses into it. “Old habits die hard. But better them than you.” I glance down to this crotch, and we share a dull laugh.
“Come see the house.” His hands swivel over my back and warm me. Being held in Jaxson’s strong arms makes me never want to set foot outside that door. His eyes bear hard into mine as if he’s trying to tell me something telepathically. He should know by now I’m not any better at reading between the lines as I am minds. “I want you to decorate it. I know you have to get back to L.A., but at least this way you can look at it and maybe we can work something out. I can get a designer from Denver to work with you, and you can boss them around while you’re in L.A. I want your hand in this. What do you say?”
My heart drops for a moment. Jaxson seems pretty content with the fact I’ll be gone soon enough. Of course, I will. That’s just reality, but a part of me was hoping he’d grovel a little to try to make me stay. Or in the least drop a hint of what will become of us once I’m gone. Will we be gone, too? For some reason, I thought the words we said that night in my bedroom were gospel. It’s becoming painfully clear I’ve blown things out of proportion in my own mind. I don’t know why this surprises me. I’m a pro at it.
“Yes!” I gather all of the mock enthusiasm I can muster. “Are you kidding? I’d love to see it, and, of course, I’ll work with whomever. If I’m good at anything, I’m good at telling people what to do.” My lips twitch as I inch my face toward his. “Lock your door.” I swallow hard. “I’d hate to have history repeat herself.”
“Already done. You, my friend, are an amateur.”
“You got me there.” I run a line over his lips with my finger. “Are you ready for your next command?”
He ticks his head to the side, amused. “Just let me know if you need a whip and a chair.”
“You are a dirty, dirty boy, aren’t you?”
“Only upon request.” The wicked gleam in his eyes flickers to life.
“Take off your clothes. I want to see you.” What I meant was, that I want to see Jax the way he sees me, to the marrow, but I’m not sure that’s possible. I’ve never held his superpowers.
“Naked, party of one coming right up.” He pulls off his flannel, and before long his T-shirt goes flying.
A breath gets locked in my throat. There is something about a bare-chested man in jeans that makes me heady.
“Time out.” My hands find a home over his wall of a chest as my fingers drift down and appreciate every hard ridge that makes up his six-pack. “How in the hell do you even have this body? Are you lifting steel in that factory of yours in your spare time? If you tell me that you’re bench pressing blondes, I might have to disown you.”
“I prefer brunettes.” His fingers comb through my hair as if to score a brownie point, but his eyes never leave mine. There’s a magnificent intensity when someone drills their gaze into your own. One’s natural inclination leans toward glancing away, but with Jax, it’s like an exclusive party I’ve been invited to and can never seem to leave.
“Again, you’re getting laid, Stade.” God, is it awful that not until this very moment did I realize how welllaidandStaderhyme?
“Don’t say that.” His finger strokes my cheek as his lids grow heavy. Damn, I love that drunk love look on his face as his mind begins to unspool.
“Okay—how about this? You’re about to embark on an oral adventure courtesy of my mouth.” I land my finger over his lips before he can protest. “Everything off, now, Stade, and I do mean now.”
His chest bucks with a quiet laugh. “You’re the bossiest girl I’ve had in my bedroom ever since—well,you.”
“You must like bossy because you’ve brought me back for more. So no more talking, Stade,” I say his name right over his lips. “Drop trou. I want to see the merch.”
He works his jeans and every other stitch on his body off, slow as January. Jaxson never takes his eyes off mine, but I break the spell, step back, and admire his sturdy frame. My eyes sink to that hard V, the way it pays homage to his fantastically impressive erection. There’s no doubt Jaxson Stade’s body is built for speed, built to be ardently admired and venerated, to be properly worshiped.
So I do the only thing I can—drop to my knees to do just that.
