I comply, sighing as his strong hands work the soap into a lather across my shoulders and down my spine. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and I find myself leaning into his touch.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear as his hands travel lower, massaging my lower back and the swell of my ass. When his soapy hands slip between my legs, I gasp.
“Easy,” he whispers as I flinch. “Just cleaning you up.”
When he’s done, I turn around and take the soap from him.
He stands still, watching me with intense eyes as I run my hands over his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles, taking my time exploring every dip and ridge. When I tweak his nipple piercings, he just tilts his head with a grunt and narrows his eyes.
It makes me grin.
After we’re both clean and dry, I put on a clean pair of underwear and Jax tosses me one of his T-shirts. Falling to mid-thigh, the soft cotton smells like him, all spice and musk.Yummy.
The cabin also smells amazing.
Jax sets the small table with plates, silverware, and two glasses of wine, and the food—some kind of chicken casserole with vegetables—looks and smells incredible.
“Meg’s specialty,” he says, pulling out a chair for me. “Trust me, it tastes better than it looks.”
He’s right. The first bite practically melts in my mouth, and I can’t help the moan that escapes. “Mmmm, so good.”
“Told you,” he grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he digs into his own plate.
We eat in comfortable silence for a while, exchanging glances that make my stomach flutter. It’s weird how at ease I feel with him.
“So,” he finally says after wiping his mouth. “Is getting hate fucked something you’ve always enjoyed or…?”
I nearly choke. “Jesus, Jax.”
“What?” He shrugs, eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes a sip of his wine. “You asked for it.”
My cheeks are heating up. “Actually, you asked me how I wanted it, and I told you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “True.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. It was amazing. Is that what you need to hear?”
His grin widens as he shakes his head. “Nah. I don’tneedto hear it. There’s nothing I love more…” He leans in, waggling his eyebrows. “…than giving good hate.”
“You, sir,” I say, pointing my fork at him. “…are a Neanderthal.”
Crossing his arms, he rests them on the table and looks me dead in the eye with a smug smile. “Yup. And there’s plenty more where that came from.”
twenty-nine
Jax’slight snoring is more like a purr against the back of my neck, and it makes me grin into my pillow.
Under normal circumstances, I’d get up, but for now I’m content to just lie here.
Body pleasantly sore in all the right places, images from yesterday flood my mind: Jax in a cowboy hat, looking like he stepped straight out of some X-rated western, jeans hugging his muscular thighs as he straddled his horse.
And then... holy hell. What went down in the hot tub?
My cheeks flush at the thought of how he’d made me come with just his fingers, then his mouth. How he’d denied my release until I was sobbing and begging before he took me to bed and hate-fucked me within an inch of my life.
Yup. Pretty sure we made a permanent dent in the mattress, and it’ll have to be replaced.
The thought makes me snort out a giggle.
