After he’d satisfied her, he orgasmed.
For long moments, he remained propped up so he could study her, the wonder in her eyes, the satisfied smile on her kissable lips.
When his arms started to shake, he rolled to his side to gather her close, facing him. He stroked her hair, then her spine. Until her, he hadn’t known this was missing in his life.
“That was—”
“If you say nice, I’ll blister your ass.”
“It was…” She smiled lazily. “Everything I dreamed my first time would be.”
He sucked in a breath. In his entire life, Jax had never heard sweeter words, ones that meant more. They didn’t feed his ego…they opened his heart. Willow had given him the greatest gift imaginable, and he vowed to cherish it. Her.
It would take a lifetime to get enough of this, of her. And a lifetime was the perfect solution to the problems he’d caused when he’d scened with her instead of taking her home from the club. Her being a virgin made the next decision as easy as it was inevitable. “We’ll get married within a month.”
Chapter Five
Willow shoved him away and struggled out of the viselike strength of his arms. Frantic, she scooted away and sat up. She pulled her knees against her and wrapped her arms around them, as if it would afford some sort of protection against the formidable man in her bed. “You’ve lost your mind.”
He sat up as well, but fortunately allowed her to keep the distance between them. “It’s the perfect solution.”
“No. It’s not. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. And in case that’s not clear, no.” She wasn’t ready. Her entire future—away from Houston—pursuing her dreams was waiting. She couldn’t allow anyone to derail her. “I’m not marrying anyone. Especially you.”
His nostrils flared, and she trembled, knowing she’d well and truly pissed him off.
The world closed in on her. By going to bed with him, she’d been ensnared by the steel trap that was Jaxon Mills.
He reached for her wrist, and claustrophobia closed around her, triggering a need to run. She leaped from the bed so hard that her knees wobbled when she touched the floor.
“Damn it, Willow. Listen to me.” He raked a hand down his face, man and fury, naked, his cock hard, and all his muscles and sinews coiled tight, ready to spring.
“Stay where you are!” She raised a hand. “I mean it. I need some space.” Her heart thundered so loudly in her ears that it drowned out all other sounds. She hurried across the room to snatch up the thick robe provided by the hotel. With shaking fingers, she knotted the belt.
She backed up against a wall. To his credit, he stayed where he was, even though his jaw was set in implacable lines and temper burned in his eyes. She shuddered.
“Please, come here so we can talk.” He’d dropped his tone, removing the threat and making the words an invitation.
“No.” Willow refused to be swayed by his skilled vocal inflections. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“I’m not sure I was clear,” he countered, words still measured, not betraying the emotion that was conveyed by the rapid tic in his temples. “We’re getting married, Willow. We’ll need to work out the details.”
Was he deaf? She glared and him as she shook her head. “This isn’t the eighteen hundreds, Jax.” Hysteria bubbled through her, making it impossible to breathe. “I’m a grown woman who makes her own decisions. You don’t have to protect my virtue.”
“Of course I do. I scened with you at the club, then took your virginity.”
“Stop it. Please. You didn’t take it. I gave it. There’s a huge difference.” Why had she slept with him? Any other man would have been happy to fuck her and leave her. “Again,” she forced out. “I make my own decisions.”
He shrugged. “I warned you before I took you to a private room.”
“I don’t want to get married.” Especially to an overbearing alpha male. No matter how sexy.
His fist was clenched, visible proof of the effort it took for him to stay where he was. “I’ve heard all about you. What about me?”
Him? She barely contained her shock. He was destroying her life and was concerned about himself? “This isn’t about you.”
“Yeah. It is. I won’t get over you, Willow.”
Knocked in the solar plexus, she gasped.
“Give me ten minutes,” he asked. “Then, if you want, I’ll leave without another word.”
Willow knew what was good for her. And that meant she shouldn’t be in the same room as him. He was far too tempting, and she responded to him on an elemental level—a survival of the species urge. Every part of her wanted him.
His admission that he wouldn’t get over her rooted her in place.
“I’m honored you chose me, Willow.”
“It was just sex.”
“One more crack like that, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. I’ll prove how damn wrong you are.”
She tried to take another step back, but she couldn’t. Instead, she put a hand on her heart, as if she could protect it.
“But you already know that, don’t you?” His words were a whisper, a challenge. He saw her lies and took a scalpel to them.
“Jax…”
“Fucking admit it, princess. You like my kisses, the way you got lost when we scened. And you were alive in a way you’ve never been when my cock was inside you.”
She forced herself to focus on his face and not his honed abs, the hand that had held her in place over his lap as he spanked her, his damnable cock. The problem with that was his lips. She wanted them on her. He might be irresistible, but that didn’t mean they should spend the rest of their lives together.
Marriage wasn’t in her immediate future. She needed to finish her last semester at school, then establish her career, maybe buy a condominium or a house. When—if—she accepted a proposal, it would be from a man she’d spent a lot of time with and knew well. They’d have similar interests and shared vision for the future. She was looking for a deep, abiding love, such as her parents had. Their years of infertility and miscarriages hadn’t driven them apart. Instead, the struggle had bound them more closely together. They supported each other through the tough times, and they celebrated each joy along the way. They’d dated for years before marrying. “All right,” she conceded. “We have insta-lust. Which you seem to equate with some sort of misplaced sense of obligation.” If she’d had any idea he would stake a claim on some moral high ground, she would have locked her virginity up in a chastity belt.
“It’s more than some fleeting attraction that’s going to be satisfied by us going at it a couple of times. And there’s no misplaced anything. Admit it.”
Her legs lost strength, so she moved to an armchair to sit down.
“I’m a possibility thinker, Willow. And I see the start of something good here. We could make a good team. An excellent one, even. You have talents that Jaxon Media needs and that I value.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“I have eight minutes left.”
It seemed to have escaped him that she actually hadn’t agreed to his request. He was a relentless force of nature.
“This is opportunity for both of us.”
“Is that what I am to you?” Her skin prickled. “An opportunity?”
“I meant no offense.” He held up an apologetic hand. “With your degree in social work, you’ll have a perspective of the world that I don’t. You think money is being squandered or at the least could be put to better use. You would have my full support in your endeavors. Perhaps you could establish a foundation and you could be in charge of it, or at least the final decision maker. As you may have noticed, I have an already-established platform you can use.”
At what cost? Putting up with him every day? Enduring his attitude?
“Every relationship starts somewhere. Couples build together based on a shared vision. We can grow together, fall in love, do good together. Build a brighter future. I’d like to su
pport some sort of charity for kids, camps, that sort of thing. We can do it together.”
Damn him. Jaxon Mills, master persuader, had captured her interest.
“Tell me you’ll think about it.”
She didn’t want to. But she was already picturing herself happily giving away his fortune.
“You’re someone who will stand up to me, tell me when I’m wrong, help me be a better person.”
She let out a shaky breath. He was so very tempting.
“You need to get to know me. I get that. So tell me what you want in a husband?”
“I’m not looking for a husband,” she reminded him.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way. Hypothetically.”
She didn’t want to soften toward him, but he was wicked good at changing her mood. “Things in common.”
“We both like sex.”
A tingle shot up her spine at the way he narrowed his eyes. “Sex isn’t a good basis for a relationship.”
“Okay. Agreed. So tell me what is.”
Willow needed to stop this conversation before it went any further. “I know what you’re doing, Jax.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re hoping I’ll convince myself that marrying you is a good idea.”
“Caught me.” He grinned. “You are wise to my nefarious ways.”
Damn him for being irresistible.
“Indulge me. What else matters to you in a life mate?”
She might be wise to his nefarious ways, but she wasn’t immune to them. “Common values.”
“And we both agreed, no cheating.”
“Is everything about sex with you?”
“At this moment. Where you’re concerned, yes.” His dick pointed straight up.
“That wasn’t what I meant. I meant like family, children. How we spend our time.” Once again on solid ground, she folded her arms. “The way we go through the world and inspire people…using a carrot and not a stick.”
“I’m open to discussion,” he conceded. “What other attributes in Mr. Hypothetical?”
This time, when he left the bed, she didn’t stop him. He walked toward her, a step at a time.
“I want love, Jax.”
“I’d say we’ve got potential.” With extreme gentleness, he held her by the waist. “The idea of another man touching you enrages me. This isn’t any fancy social-worker term, Willow. It’s raw. It’s real.” He stroked her hipbones with his thumbs. “I want to take care of you. I’m exposing my heart to you, knowing I could get hurt as badly as you could.”
“You’ve swept me up in some sort of storm.”
“I’ll keep you safe from them.” He leaned toward her, his eyes vibrant, intent on her. She knew how he’d built his empire now. When he focused on something, he was relentless in its pursuit. Yet his words weren’t grandiose—they were filled with sincerity.
Maybe he wasn’t all bad. Maybe.
“I’d like to kiss you.”
A sensation rocked her, that of standing on the edge of a cliff and wanting to jump. “If you do, it doesn’t mean we have to get married.”
“Of course not.”
She looked at his face, trying to decipher his words. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Oh Willow. Do you ever give up?”
“Do you?” she countered.
“See there? And you thought we had nothing in common.” He smiled, draining away her tension. “Now, as for that kiss.”
“Yes.” She cradled his face and rose on her tiptoes to meet him.
Jax wrapped his arms around her and claimed her mouth with tenderness and a heartfelt promise.
Once he recognized her surrender, he deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering her, asking for more than he’d taken before.
Lost, she clung to him and gave him what he demanded.
He groaned from deep inside, and his cock pressed into her. Boldly, she reached between them to cup his balls, then stroke his shaft. Jax broke off the kiss and pulled back to grab her hand and force her to stop. “God, no, princess. I don’t have another condom in my wallet.”
“I could just do this.” She’d never jacked off a man before, but with the way his body went rigid, she guessed she was doing something he liked.
“No. I mean, yes. You’re amazing, but I want to be inside you.” He moved her hand away from his cock. “I need to make a trip to the gift shop. I promise you, we can make love all night. Or at least until I have to put you on a plane in the morning.”
Her earlier white lie chafed. Before she could admit the truth, he said, “Condoms. Now. You want to come downstairs with me?”
“I actually haven’t eaten. So yes.”
“I’ll take you somewhere. What would you like to go?”
“Downstairs. Every night at ten, they have a pizza party in the lobby.”
“Pizza?” Disdain dripped from the word, making her laugh.
“All kinds of different choices, and they have several different craft beers that they sample. It’s the main reason I stay here.”
“It’s New Orleans. Some of the best steak and seafood places in the country are within walking distance. There’s a place on Chartres Street that serves Cajun food. Their sampler plate is divine. Gumbo, étouffée, red beans and rice, and jambalaya. If you need bread, I know a place with a great shrimp po’boy.”
“You don’t have to eat pizza. Just don’t judge my choice.”
He sighed. “You win.”
“How sweet that sounds.”
He flicked a glance toward her discarded outfit. “Do you have other clothes?”
“Yes, Jax. I brought more than BDSM wear with me.”
“Good thing, or you wouldn’t be leaving this room.”
She sighed. Not as self-conscious as she thought she’d be, she dropped the robe, then walked to the dresser to pull out a bra and fresh panties before selecting a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a motivational saying on it. Positive vibes. Positive life. Then she grabbed one of her dad’s old dress shirts. After slipping into it, she tied the tails into a knot at her waist. Finally, she added a pair of comfortable sandals. With her mussed hair and ruined makeup, she was no femme fatale.
Willow sank onto the edge of the mattress and watched Jax pull on his boots.
She’d lived with Lawrence for almost a month, and she’d been on guard the entire time, dressing in the closet, never emerging from the bathroom without something covering her. It wasn’t until now that she realized she’d never trusted him.
Which meant… She inhaled. Even if he annoyed the crap out of her, Jax was an honorable man.
He glanced up to catch her staring at him. “Everything okay?”
Except for the way she ached to touch him, run her fingers across his face, reveling in the friction of his scruff as he leaned toward her to claim a casual, quick kiss that she associated with couples who’d been in a long-term relationship. “Lost in thought.”
Still keeping an eye on her, he stood and buckled his belt. “Tell me they at least have a Margherita pizza.”
“I’ve never looked, but they have so many different options, it’s hard to imagine they wouldn’t have it.”
After ensuring they had a room key, they walked to the elevator.
It wasn’t until the doors slid open that she realized that he’d distracted her with a kiss earlier instead of agreeing that they didn’t have to get married.
Since there were other guests in the car, she wasn’t able to ask him about it.
When they reached the lobby, it was to find dozens of people milling around.
“Quite the spread,” he observed.
“Isn’t it the best?” There were two tables to choose from. The first had pizzas and garlic knots. The second had desserts, all made from the same delicious dough but crafted with the hotel’s special flair. There were cinnamon rolls, an apple pie, even melted chocolate stuffed between two crusts.
This party was definitely her style, even if it wa
sn’t his. With his abs and tight ass, he no doubt deprived himself of all happiness-giving carbs and exercised like a fiend. Not that she minded.
“Next dinner has to be at a proper restaurant.”
“But tonight?” She raised her eyebrows. “Tonight we enjoy a gastronomic feast!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the first table where she shoved a plate and several napkins into his hand before selecting two ridiculously large pieces for herself.
He looked around. “Do they have salad?”
“Oh my God. Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “Stop. They have a veggie pizza over there. And I see the Margherita one as well.” She pointed to the far end of the table. “And there’s beer, of course.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hops. Barley. They grow from the ground, right? Hence, beer is salad.”
“Is my future going to be filled with this kind of logic?”
“Hopefully not. You could have a magnificent change of heart and forget you ever saw me.”
“Not a chance.”
She sighed. “Please, not another word.” She’d been right earlier when she said he never gave up. “You don’t get to ruin my pizza party.” Since there were others in line who wanted the food as much as she did, she walked away from the table. “Want a beer?”
He joined her at the bar where the server described the evening’s three options and ending with his suggestions. “The lager pairs nicely with the Margherita pizza, complementing the charred crust and sweetness of the sauce,” he said. “Perfect for you, sir.” He poured a small sample. “Ma’am, may I recommend the brown ale? It will help deliver a complex finish to your meal.” He poured a second taster.
“Who knew pizza and beer could be so complicated?” Jax asked.
In the end, he went with the lager, and she selected the brown ale. They found a couple of bistro chairs around a wrought-iron table and settled in.
She took the first savory bite and closed her eyes in pleasure. When she finally reached for a drink of her beer, he was staring at her.
“I could watch you eat all night long. You’re all smiles and sighs.”
“Pizza is my favorite. I buy one every Sunday and eat it for dinner every night of the week. So I never have to cook dinner.” Midway through the second piece, she gave up.
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