Afterburn

by Sylvia Day

  “Yep.”

  His eyes took on a wicked gleam I recognized. “Come on.”

  Grabbing my hand, he led me off the dance floor and through the crowd. It surged around him, trying to pin us in, but he was adept at brusque acknowledgments and quick rejoinders. I caught sight of a familiar face, beautiful Allison Kelsey—the woman whose fiancé’s bachelor party had brought Jax and I together—then the view changed to a brightly lit hallway. From there, Jax led me through a swinging door into a massive industrial-sized kitchen buzzing with activity.

  I looked around, noting the multiple cooking stations and the black-and-white service uniforms I’d only ever seen in movies. Jax snagged a bottle of champagne out of the hands of a waiter, slipped his ring finger around the stem of a flute in a practiced movement, then pulled me out a side door into another hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, still wary of being alone with him. I wanted him. I’d never stopped.

  “You’ll see.”

  The sounds of the party grew louder, and I ignored the pang of disappointment I felt at the possibility of rejoining it. Seriously, I had to make up my mind.

  Jax led me through open French doors onto a terrace overlooking a magical garden. At least it looked that way to me, with its torch-lit gravel pathways and handsome old trees sparkling with white lights.

  “Whose house is this?” I queried.

  “It’s a Rutledge estate.”

  The way he said it conveyed more ownership than the words themselves. “Right.”

  “Pretend we crashed this party,” he said, leading me down cobblestone steps to a crescent-shaped marble bench.

  I sat, watching as he poured champagne for me and passed me the glass. “Seems like we’ve been pretending all along, doesn’t it?”

  Jax swigged straight out of the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, careless and a bit defiant. “Maybe. I still know you better than you think I do.”

  “I don’t feel like I know you at all.”

  “So get to know me,” he challenged. “What are you afraid of?”

  I sipped my champagne. “Spinning my wheels and dead ends.”

  “Can’t you just enjoy the ride?”

  Oh, I’d love it. A surge of heated yearning pierced me.

  He set the bottle on the bench beside me. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  My breath caught. “No, you’re not.”

  “Try and stop me.”

  I surged to my feet. “Jackson—”

  “Shut up, Gia.” He cupped my face in both hands and took my mouth.

  For a moment I didn’t move, frozen by the feel of his lips on mine, so soft yet firm. Achingly familiar. Tender. His tongue licked along the seam. I opened up to him with a low moan and he slid inside.

  I dropped my flute. Distantly, I heard it shatter, but didn’t care. My arms were draped across his broad shoulders; my fingers were in his silky hair. I was drinking him in, tasting champagne and Jax, lifting onto my toes to deepen the connection.

  As always, he gave me what I demanded of him.

  Holding me still, he ate at my mouth, stroking with the velvet lash of his tongue, nibbling with lips and teeth, sliding his lips back and forth across mine. Savoring me. Turning a simple kiss into an erotic melding that had me trembling with pleasure.

  God, I’d missed him. Missed the way he made me feel.

  He growled, the rough sound vibrating against me. His hands slid downward, rubbing along my back, holding me in place as he rolled his hips and brushed the thick length of his erection against my cleft. Desire shot through me, flushing my skin. He smelled delicious, the subtle fragrance of his soap mixing with the virile scent that was his alone. I wanted to wallow in him the way I used to, pressing my naked body to his until even air couldn’t come between us.

  “Gia,” he murmured gruffly, his lips sliding along my cheek. “Christ, I want you.”

  I closed my eyes, my hands fisting in the thick strands of his hair. I was on fire for him, my skin feeling too tight and sensitive. “You had me.”

  “I made the right decision walking away.” His breath gusted over my temple. “That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.”

  A tiny voice of caution was screaming. “You’ll hurt me.”

  “I’ll worship you.” One of his hands captured my nape. The other gripped my hip, urging me into the slide of his hardness against my clit. “You remember how it was. Hours with my hands and mouth on you, my cock inside you—”

  “For how long?” My core was clenching, tightening in demand for an orgasm.

  “Weeks.” He groaned. “Months. Jesus, I’m so hard it hurts.”

  I struggled out of his hold. “I need more than sex.”

  He let me go, but his gaze was fierce and hot. “I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”

  “For a few weeks?” I trembled from the effort of staying away from him when he was all I craved. “A few months?”

  “Gia.” Jax scrubbed his hands over his face. “Damn it. Take what I can give you.”

  “It’s not enough!”

  “It has to be. Christ... Don’t ask me to turn you into one of them!”

  I jerked back, startled by his vehemence. “What are you talking about?”

  He turned his back to the house and picked up the bottle of champagne, drinking deeply.

  Confused, I studied him and saw only mulish determination. I looked past him into the ballroom, seeing the glittering couples inside. Lei appeared at that moment, walking onto the terrace with Chad on her arm.

  In that moment I understood how badly I wanted to unravel the mystery of Jax, bad enough that I didn’t care how much it was going to cost me.

  “Mind if we join you?” Lei asked as she and Chad approached.

  Her eyes caught mine. I sank onto the bench, my body still throbbing with unappeased hunger.

  Glancing at Jax, I found his eyes on me. A challenge was there in those dark depths. I held my hand out for the champagne, gripping the bottle by the neck when he handed it to me.

  I lifted it in toast and drank to that dare.

  Chapter 6

  DON’T DISAPPEAR. See me again....

  Jax’s last words, whispered in my ear as we said goodbye, haunted me on the flight back to New York.

  If I tangled with him I’d get hurt, because I would hope. I wanted more. But what choice did I have? I had to know what had gone so wrong before and what was still holding him back now. I’d always assumed it was me—who I was, where I came from—not meshing with who he was and what he wanted long-term.

  I glanced at Lei, who was seated across from me on the plane, as she opened her clutch and withdrew a folded piece of paper. She slid it over and I smoothed it out on the table in front of us. I read the first paragraph, shot a look down to see the signature at the bottom, then lifted my head.

  “Oh, my God... You got Chad to sign?”

  “It’s a tentative agreement,” she qualified, “based on getting Isabelle and Inez on board—and you overseeing the first restaurant—but it’s got him on the hook.”

  “Wow.” I refolded the document carefully, taking in the fact that I’d just been handed a major responsibility. “I can’t believe you had this with you. Did you know he’d be there?”

  “I suspected, knowing Ian.”

  I handed the agreement back to her.

  “Rutledge took care of you tonight,” Lei noted. “Ian tried to throw you to the wolves, but Jackson kept you too close for that.”

  And he’d wanted me even closer.

  I shrugged off her unspoken query, not wanting to get into something so deeply personal. “By the way, Parker Rutledge explained the connection. Ian introduced Parker to the latest Mrs. Rutledge.”


  “Did he?” Lei’s elegantly arched brows rose. “Then it’s likely Ian knows Regina Rutledge intimately.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  “Okay, then.”

  She leaned her head back against the seat. “Let’s enjoy the weekend. Turn off your phone, forget about work. Just recharge. We’ll hit it fresh on Monday.”

  That sounded perfect to me. “I’m more than game, but I’ll leave my phone on in case you need me.”

  Lei smiled. “I won’t need you, I promise. I’ve got a date this weekend.”

  “All weekend?”

  “I’m overdue.”

  I laughed. In the year I’d been with Lei, I hadn’t known her to date. She was due for a good time, all right. So was I. “Rock it.”

  She shot me a look. “I plan to.”

  * * *

  WHEN I GOT HOME, it was just past two in the morning and everyone was asleep. I padded to my room on bare feet, eager to strip and scrub down to my bare skin.

  I was reaching for the concealed zipper on the side of my dress when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored closet doors. I paused, really taking a good hard look at myself.

  Was Jax attracted to the polished businesswoman I’d become in a way he hadn’t been to the girl I was before? Was I okay with that?

  “God.” I sat on the edge of my bed, wishing someone were awake that I could talk to. If Nico had been around, he’d be up. He was a night owl.

  Impulsively, I reached for the phone on my nightstand and speed-dialed him. It rang three times before he answered.

  “Hey,” he said. “This better be good.”

  I winced at his irritated and slightly breathless tone, suspecting I’d interrupted him when he had someone staying over. “Nico, hi. Sorry. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

  “Gianna.” He exhaled roughly and I heard rustling. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. We’ll chat tomorrow. Bye.”

  “Don’t hang up on me!” he snapped. “You wanted me, you got me. Spill it.”

  I hung up, figuring the sooner I let him go, the sooner he’d get back to whatever he’d been doing.

  A half second later, the phone started ringing. I answered quickly, hoping it didn’t wake up the rest of the house. “Nico, come on. It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I bugged you so late.”

  “Gianna, if you don’t start talking, I’m heading up there to kick your ass. Is this about Jackson?”

  I sighed. I should have known he would’ve heard the news from someone. “I’ve got a free weekend. I thought maybe I could come visit. Give you a hard time. Harass you a little. Or a lot.”

  “Now?”

  Actually, I’d been thinking about it, but... “No, tomorrow.”

  “Bullshit. You don’t call after two in the morning to say you want to stop by tomorrow.”

  “You’re busy.”

  “By the time you get here, I won’t be.” His voice softened. “You got a safe ride down?”

  “Nico—”

  “I’ll call a service, have a car pick you up.”

  I closed my eyes, grateful for him and more certain than ever that hanging with him would do me a world of good. It’d been a few weeks since I’d seen him. Too long. “I need to shower and change.”

  “Thirty minutes. I’ll see you when you get here.” He hung up.

  Setting the handset back into its cradle, I hurried to get ready.

  * * *

  IT WAS CREEPING past four in the morning when I arrived at Nico’s apartment complex. He’d called a few minutes before to check where I was and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for me when I pulled up. Dressed in sweats with a shadow of stubble on his jaw, he looked a bit dangerous in that bad-boy way so many women gravitated toward.

  God knew Jax’s alpha-male qualities could put me into heat.

  “Hey,” he said, taking my duffel bag from the driver and handing over cash. He slung his arm around my shoulder and led me toward his place. “It’s good to see you.”

  “No, it’s not.” I bumped my hip into his and made us both stumble. “Sorry to crash your night.”

  “I got mine.” He grinned. “She got hers, too, so it’s all good.”

  “Gross. TMI.” He was such a player. Always had been. “Is she anyone special?”

  “Not in a serious way. Got no time for a relationship now. My hands are full with Rossi’s Two.”

  He released me to unlock the lobby door, then led me through to the interior courtyard. I’d been to his apartment complex before to help him move in, but it felt different at night. Too quiet and unfamiliar. I wondered if he got lonely without the rest of us. It made me sad to think of it.

  “I wish you had someone to take care of you,” I said.

  “You first,” he retorted, deftly bringing it back to me. He was good at that.

  We climbed exterior steps to his apartment. Once inside, I saw that he hadn’t done much more to it since he’d moved in. It was a typical bachelor pad—sparse on decoration and laid out for comfort rather than aesthetics.

  A large flat-screen TV dominated the living room, which had a black leather couch and love seat, coffee table and one end table with an open soda can on it. Light spilled into the otherwise darkened room from the open-plan kitchen and ajar bedroom door, trying valiantly to compensate for the lack of table and floor lamps.

  “So, Jax is back,” he said, watching me as I dropped onto the couch. “Vincent owes me a hundred bucks.”

  “Are you kidding?” I would’ve thrown a sofa pillow at him if he’d had any. “You bet on Jax?”

  “Bet on you.” He sat on the love seat, setting my duffel on the floor at his feet. “He was gonzo over you, which meant he was either going to put a ring on you or run scared. I figured he’d run, then come back around once the fear wore off. He’s a guy, but he’s a smart one. Question is, is he too late? I’m guessing no or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to see you,” I argued. “God knows why.”

  “Maybe,” he said in a tone that told me he’d believe it when hell froze over and pigs flew. “You still love him?”

  My head fell back against the sofa, and I closed my tired eyes. “Yeah. Damn it.”

  “And him? Where’s he coming from?”

  “He’s confused.”

  “Should I smack him around some? Knock some sense into him?”

  I laughed softly. “God, I miss you.”

  * * *

  WE SLEPT PAST NOON, went out to eat, then sat on the couch and played video games until my thumbs ached from using the controller. I left my smartphone in my purse, powered off and squashed any impulse to check it. I’d left a note for Angelo and Vincent about where I’d be. With Lei off the grid for the weekend, there was no one else who needed to reach me before Monday.

  When it came time for Nico to head into Rossi’s, I got up off the couch with him.

  “Need an extra set of Rossi hands?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Sure. I have an extra T-shirt around here somewhere.”

  By seven, I found myself helping out at Rossi’s and remembering how much I loved the hands-on part of the business. I couldn’t do it long-term, like my brothers, but I was reminded that helping out every now and then was good for my soul. Dressed in jeans and a black Rossi’s T-shirt with my hair pulled back in a ponytail, I could almost believe I was back in high school. I didn’t know any of the customers coming in, but they quickly picked up on my relationship with Nico, due in large part to the playful ribbing we indulged in.

  Crossing my arms on the bar, I leaned over and teased, “Where’s my Bellini order? Pick it up, Rossi. You’re laggin’. I’m waitin’.”

  “Ya hear that
?” he asked the pretty redhead sitting in front of him. “She’s rushing greatness.”

  I felt a charge that raised the hairs on my nape an instant before I felt a hand on my hip. I turned my head...

  And saw Jax.

  Blinking, I stared, drinking in the sight of him in jeans and a Rossi’s T-shirt from way back, before we updated the logo. It twisted me up a little to see that he’d kept the gift. And worn it some, judging by how broken in it was.

  “Jax. What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think?” He smiled.

  Damn it. His dimple threw me for a loop.

  I turned to face him, leaning back on the bar with my elbows and hitching my shoe onto the brass foot rail. It was a deliberately provocative pose and got me the response I’d been hoping for.

  His dark eyes swept me from head to toe and back again, coming to rest on my mouth. “Have dinner with me.”

  “Okay.”

  His brows rose at my quick reply.

  “Order up,” Nico said behind me.

  I turned back to him just in time to see him acknowledge Jax with a jerk of his chin and a handshake.

  “Jackson,” my brother greeted him. “I was just talking to Gianna about kicking your ass.”

  Jax grinned. “Good to see you, too, man.”

  Nico wagged a finger at him and moved back down the bar.

  As I transferred the three Bellinis onto my tray, I felt Jax’s hands come to rest lightly on my hips, an unmistakably proprietary move. His lips touched my nape, brushing softly. “I missed you,” he murmured.

  My hand shook slightly as I set the last tall, slender glass down. “Don’t fuck with me, Jax. It’s not cool.”

  “You missed me, too.”

  “Yeah, I did. Back up.” I lifted the tray and headed toward the table awaiting the order. “Come on,” I told him over my shoulder.

  I dropped the drinks off, smiling at the party of three women who were clearly out on a girls’ night. They eyed Jax, who leaned against the end of a booth with his arms crossed, his gaze on me as I leaned forward to serve.

  “You training him?” the brunette asked, grinning at Jax.

  “Tried to,” I quipped. “Failed miserably.”