“I know what helps with nerves.”
Before she could speak—before she could even draw breath to tease him—he was moving.
Hands sliding up the outsides of her thighs, warm palms dragging the fabric higher with torturous patience. The fabric whispered against her skin, cool in contrast to the heat of histouch. She felt the air shift against newly bared skin, felt the faint tremor that always started low in her belly when he looked at her like that.
He knelt between her legs on the wide leather seat, broad shoulders filling the space, careful not to rush. One hand braced on the door behind her; the other stayed on her thigh, thumb stroking slow, absent circles that made her muscles flutter.
“Jax…” Her voice came out softer than she meant, almost a question.
“Shh.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee—soft, almost reverent. Then another, slightly higher. Then another.
Each one landed like a spark.
She leaned back against the door, head tipping, eyes half-closing as the city lights painted shifting patterns across the ceiling. The car turned a corner; the motion pressed her more firmly against the leather. His mouth followed the slow path upward—kisses turning open-mouthed, lingering, the faint scrape of stubble sending tiny shocks along her nerves.
Her breath hitched when he reached the lace edge of her underwear. He paused there, nose brushing the sensitive skin just above it, inhaling like he was memorising her. She felt the warmth of his exhale against her, felt herself clench in anticipation.
He didn’t rush.
Fingers hooked the lace—gentle, deliberate—easing it aside. Cool air kissed her, then his breath, then nothing for one endless second that stretched until she thought she might beg.
Then his tongue—slow, flat, exploratory.
She arched hard, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. Her fingers flew to his hair, threading tight, holding him there even though he showed no sign of moving away.
He took his time.
Slow licks that made her hips lift instinctively. Gentle suction that pulled a low, broken sound from her. Circles, then flicks, then long, dragging strokes that built the heat in relentless, patient layers. Every time she started to tremble—every time her thighs tensed and her breath turned ragged—he eased back just enough to let the edge recede, only to start again, slower, deeper, more focused.
The car moved smoothly through traffic; outside the windows the city blurred into streaks of light and shadow. Inside it was only this: the wet heat of his mouth, the soft, helpless sounds she couldn’t swallow, the low hum of the engine vibrating through the seat and into her bones.
Her body wound tighter and tighter—thighs shaking, stomach clenching, fingers gripping his hair so hard she was sure it hurt but he only groaned against her in response, the sound vibrating straight through her.
When she finally broke it was sudden and shattering—back bowing off the seat, thighs clamping around his head, a choked cry swallowed by the plush interior. Waves rolled through her, long and rolling, leaving her trembling and gasping, skin flushed and slick.
He kissed his way back up her body—settling beside her on the seat. Strong arms gathered her close, pulling her against his chest so her head tucked under his chin. His heartbeat was steady and loud against her ear, grounding her as her own slowly came back down.
She was glowing, loose-limbed, still flushed and glassy-eyed.
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Better?” he asked, voice rough with restraint.
She laughed weakly. “Much.”
They arrived at the venue flushed and smiling—impossible to hide it. On the red carpet they couldn’t stop touching—his hand low on her back, her fingers brushing his sleeve, stolen glances that felt private even under a thousand flashes. Photographers ate it up. So did the fans.
Inside, she presented her segment flawlessly—voice steady, smile bright, introducing the next award with effortless charm. Jax watched from their table, arms folded, a small, proud smile tugging at his mouth.
The after-party was in a rooftop lounge—low lights, pulsing music, champagne flowing. They danced once, slow and close, his hand warm at the small of her back. Then he kissed her temple. “Need a drink. Back in two.”
She nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd.
That was when Min-Jae found her.
He emerged from the press of bodies, dark suit sharp. “Aria.”
“Min-Jae.”
