Falling For The Forbidden

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Falling For The Forbidden Page 158

by Hawkins, Jessica


  “That was quite impressive.”

  Hating to admit defeat, she eyed it. “If pepperoni had been the only topping, I could have finished it.”

  A server took their plates, and they carried the remainder of their drinks to a comfortable couch in a secluded corner. The lighting was soft, and the area was quiet.

  She kicked off her sandals and curled up near him, holding her beer. “You mentioned a children’s charity, such as supporting a camp. A summer school type of thing? Or after school?”

  “So you are intrigued?”

  “Of course. I think having places for kids to go, something to do is essential. Even community centers—free ones—are wonderful. Anywhere with adult supervision. Interaction.”

  “Not everyone is fortunate enough to have resources when they’re growing up.”

  There was something different in his tone. An underlying pain she’d never suspected.

  “You’ve never listened to my videos, have you?”

  Pretending she’d been uncomfortable, she shifted her weight, tucking her legs the opposite direction.

  “Otherwise you’d know my story. I left home at fifteen with cracked ribs and a black eye.”

  Shock rendered her silent.

  “My dad did it.”

  “Your mom didn’t stop him?”

  Jax’s words were emotionless, but his eyes were turbulent. “I tell my story often as inspiration, but I rarely talk about my mom, so this part is personal and not to be shared.”

  When she nodded, he went on. “She left when I was young.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure how old I was. The memories are fuzzy.” He took a long drink of his beer before sliding it onto a nearby table. “I don’t know her name. Only thing I ever heard my dad call her was bitch. Whore. And a couple more colorful descriptions.”

  “Oh Jax. I had no idea.” His struggle made his success all the more remarkable.

  “He always suspected I wasn’t his, but I suppose we’ll never know. She swore I was legitimate, but one night when he was drunk, he called me a bastard, and not in the asshole way.”

  She waited for him to go on.

  “A teacher took pity on me and nominated me for a scholarship to summer camp one year, and my dad let me go because they fed me breakfast and lunch and that was less money he had to shell out for my miserable existence. His words.”

  Her hand shook.

  “I learned about acting and creating video.”

  “Your first five dollars.” She gave a half smile. “Five. Your lucky number.”

  He took his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out the bill. It was worn with time and handling, and it looked different from the currency she’d recently seen in circulation.

  “My dad found other money hidden in my room. That’s why he snapped. I made my own way. Stayed with friends, slept on couches. Somehow managed to get a GED even though I dropped out of school at sixteen.”

  How could she not want to help him support other kids? He was dragging her into his web. She had to be careful not to capitulate entirely.

  Her phone vibrated in her back pocket. “My mother, I’m sure.”

  “Go ahead.” He took a drink of beer while he watched her.

  She typed in a reply and a heart emoji before putting the phone upside down on the table. “She often sends news from home. It’s her way of checking on me.”

  “Your parents care about you.”

  “The spoiled, pampered child.” She sighed. “That’s what you think, right? What a lot of people believe.” And one of the reasons she’d refused to let her mom and dad pay for grad school.

  “There’s a deeper side to you.”

  “I’m the child they never thought they could have. I’m sure you don’t know that they tried to have a baby for a lot of years, and Mom suffered a number of miscarriages.”

  “All their hopes and dreams are on your shoulders.”

  “Sounds petty, compared to your background.”

  “No need to compare. Family dynamics are often complicated, as you know.”

  “They are. No matter how well-meaning. They are more than protective. Mom used to call my college to make sure I was okay. I can’t imagine what she would do if I didn’t come home for breaks.” She took another sip of the brew, this time for fortification. “If they find out that I’m here…”

  “Not a matter of if.”

  “You’re hell-bent on giving my mother a nervous breakdown?”

  He grinned. “Not swayed. I think Andrea is made of sterner stuff.”

  “Not when it comes to me.” Andrea had devoted the past twenty-two years to motherhood, and the bonds wouldn’t be broken lightly.

  “Then she’ll be glad if you return to Houston.”

  “Jaxon?”

  A man strode toward them, hand extended. Jaxon stood to greet him. “Rykker.”

  She watched the two, about the same height, shake hands. It was impossible to miss the display of strength and masculine prowess. Sometimes she wondered how far alpha males had progressed since the caveman days.

  “Have you met Willow Henderson?”

  Rykker turned toward her with a polite smile. “Brian and Andrea’s daughter?”

  Her incognito trip was now well and truly ruined. Glowering at Jax, she stood, trying to stuff her feet back into her discarded sandals. “Nice to meet you.” The words were polite, nothing more.

  She accepted his offered hand, and he was gentle with her.

  “My fiancée,” Jax added.

  Her smile froze.

  “Congratulations.” Rykker smiled, and she extracted her hand. “When’s the big day?”

  “Soon.”

  She called on the etiquette classes her mother had forced her to attend in order not to choke Jax and step over his dead body.

  “Willow,” he went on, either oblivious or not giving a damn, “Rykker King. He chairs the Zetas membership committee, and he has a hand in a number of our philanthropic ventures. Fair warning, Rykker, my future bride thinks we should be doing much more than we are.”

  “Is that correct?” He met her gaze with interest, forcing her to maintain her society smile. “Feel free to reach out to me. Now, if you’ll excuse, me, I’m meeting Judge Anderson for a drink.”

  “Give Gideon my regards.”

  “I will.” He gave her a slight bow. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Henderson.”

  She remained where she was until he was out of earshot. “That was an underhanded move, Jax. And I don’t appreciate it.”

  “Better he would think we’re having a tryst?”

  She clenched her hands at her sides.

  “I need to get you to bed. How early is your flight?”

  Her thoughts screeched to a stop. “Uhm…”

  He folded his arms and waited.

  She flicked a frantic glance toward his right hand, remembering the way he’d scorched her buttocks.

  “Willow?”

  “It’s on Sunday.”

  “You lied to me?” His voice dropped an octave and took her stomach with it.

  “A little one. Tiny. Itty-bitty. You know, a polite one.”

  “You may want to stop right there.”

  “It was harmless. Something people say to avoid hurting feelings.”

  “Lying to me is never harmless.”

  She shuddered. “Neither is telling people we’re getting married.”

  “We should go upstairs. And we’ll need condoms.”

  Fortunately there were only a few choices, unlike the displays she’d seen at the local drugstore. She pretended to look at a magazine while he made his selection. Extra—large of course.

  After paying, he slid the box into his front pocket before capturing her elbow and guiding her toward the valet stand. “I have a bag in my car. Can you have someone get it for me?” He slid a twenty-dollar bill onto the counter.

  “Right away, sir.”

  He gave the room number and information on his car. “Oh, and a bucket of i
ce.”

  Heat rushed through her, as if the man knew what Jax intended.

  With a wicked grin, he said, “Ready?”

  During the ride up, she cast furtive glances his way, but he focused on the button for each floor as it lit up.

  “It was before we had sex, you know. The fib, I mean. A polite way to end the evening.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Uhm, how about if I promise never to do that again?”

  “I’d appreciate that.” He looked at her. “I will never lie to you. The truth stings once, and it can be damn brutal. Lies sting with every memory. So I promise you, I will be honest with you. Even if you don’t like it.”

  She nodded. “And in return, the nature of our relationship is private from the outside world.”

  “I was protecting your reputation.”

  Willow almost argued. Almost. But he was alpha enough, stubborn enough, to spend the rest of the night insisting there was a difference.

  As soon they were in the room, he had her against the door. “I don’t want anyone looking at you.”

  How much was about her reputation, and how much was about him staking a claim? His eyes were intent, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. All of her concerns vanished.

  He stroked the side of her breast, and desire slammed into her. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Jax lifted her from the floor, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed hold of his shoulders.

  His eyes were predatory.

  “I’m not scared of you.” Because she knew he had her, she fed her fingers into his thick hair.

  “You need to touch me more often.” He claimed her mouth, tasting of possession.

  Willow dragged in the scent of him, that of sex and confidence. She ached for him.

  Somehow, he managed to get her to the bed, but before he could unknot her shirttails, a loud knock on the door interrupted them. “Better now than later?” she asked.

  “For damn sure.”

  He tipped the bellman and wished the man a good night.

  Once the PRIVACY PLEASE sign was hanging from the knob, Jax closed the door. He slid the ice bucket onto the nightstand, then placed the toy bag on top of her suitcase. “Since you’re here for another day, I’ve decided to extend my stay. We can explore the city, go back to Quarter if you wish. Get some decent food.” He pulled out the box of condoms, opened it, and dumped out the three packages. “Maybe I should have bought a second box.”

  He tossed one of the condoms on the mattress. “This time, I want to undress you.” He pointed to a spot on the floor right in front of him. “Come here, Willow.”

  Chapter Six

  Everything about Willow turned him on. He loosened the knot she’d tied in the shirttails and then pushed back the shirt from her shoulders. Then he had the chance to read her T-shirt. “Motivational phrases on your clothing?”

  “Well, a couple are about mimosas and happy hour. I have one about pizza.”

  He grinned. Of course. “No offense. I like you better out of your clothes.” He reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Her nipples were gloriously hard, and he couldn’t resist the urge to caress her.

  She hissed in a breath.

  “Too much?”

  “No. Not enough.”

  “You’re mine, princess.” He left her long enough to grab a piece of ice. “Your introduction to sensation play.” He sucked the cube into his mouth to melt it a little. “Offer yourself to me.”

  After a slight hesitation, she cupped her breasts.

  “Since all of this is an exploration, you can safe word or use yellow. We’ll learn more about each other as we go forward.”

  She nodded.

  He touched the frozen water to her right nipple, and she sucked in a little breath. The temperature was obviously a shock, but the moment he moved on, she shimmied. “How was that?”

  “I liked it.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” He repeated his action on her left breast. Her flesh contracted, then swelled, begging for more. He could spend forever exploring her.

  When she was covered in goose bumps, moaning and rocking toward him, he tossed the cube back into the bucket. “I’d say your first experience with temperature play is a win.”

  “Yes.” She was clenching her buttocks, as if fighting arousal.

  He appreciated the way she’d been willing to try the ice. Even more, he enjoyed her reaction. “I want you out of your pants.”

  She kicked off her sandals while he unfastened the snap at her waistband and lowered the short zipper.

  He dropped to his knees after he’d stripped off her jeans and lacy panties.

  Then he selected another piece of ice. “Hands behind your back, princess. And if you lose balance, you can grab my shoulders, but you can’t attempt to push me away.”

  Gaze riveted on his hand, she nodded and did as he said. He tongued her pussy, and she moaned in surrender. His caveman instinct flared, and he renewed his internal vow to have her down the aisle and his ring on her finger within the week.

  She grabbed him for support. “Cold and heat… God. Yes. I can’t think.”

  He tossed the remaining ice chip into the bucket. Her pussy was red, and he inhaled the intoxicating musk of her arousal.

  He pushed to his feet and backed her onto the bed. He hurriedly dropped his clothes, not caring where they landed. “Condom.”

  Willow searched around for it and finally offered it to him.

  “You do it,” he instructed.

  “I’ve never done it before.”

  The first touch of her hand on his dick almost made him shoot off. “Stop. On second thought, that’s not a good idea.” His words were gruffer than he intended.

  It took him much longer to get the damn thing on than it ever had before. Before sliding into her, he took a breath to put himself back in control.

  With slow, gentle motions, he moved inside her.

  “Jax, faster,” she urged. “That ice…your mouth.”

  “I want to be sure your pussy isn’t too tender.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, eyes flashing, digging her hands into his hair to pull him toward her.

  Her urgency rocked him, and he wanted to give her more power. “Why don’t we try something different?”

  “Now?”

  “You’ll like it.” Since she was so much smaller and lighter, he was able to reverse their positions with minimal effort, and within seconds she was astride him.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. This way you can set the pace.” He fisted his cock and held it while she lowered herself toward him.

  “I feel awkward.”

  “We’ll do it together.”

  She winced slightly as his cock entered her.

  “Damn it, Willow. You are sore.”

  “I’m fine.” She rocked her hips. “Oh. It’s—”

  “Watch your choice of words,” he teased.

  “Awesome?”

  “That will work.”

  It took a few strokes for her to find a position and rhythm that she liked, and then she began to move faster. He curved his hands around her hips, helping her balance.

  She closed her eyes and tipped her head. Her hair spilled around her shoulders in a magnificent riot of blonde and fire. He was captivated. “You’re exquisite.”

  “So much deeper this way.”

  “Yeah.”

  She rode him, her breaths shortening the faster she moved. “Jax!”

  “Come for me, princess.”

  Her pussy tightened around him. He concentrated on her, watching her climax, and he ground his back teeth to stave off his own orgasm.

  Finally, with a sexy whimper, she collapsed onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, cherishing her.

  A minute or so later, she put her palms on his chest and lifted her head a little. “I had no idea.”

  “It’ll get better, too.”

  “I’m not sure how it could.”

>   He grinned and chose not to point out that she’d fed his ego.

  “But, uhm, you didn’t, I mean…”

  “Come? No. I can live without it.”

  “No. Let’s… I mean…” A hint of scarlet stained her cheeks.

  He’d never been more charmed. “Here.” Jax helped her off him before he started stroking his cock. She turned on her side to watch, and her scrutiny was so damn sexy. “Want to do it?” he asked. When she nodded, he removed his hand and allowed her to take over.

  “This is nice, but I’d like you inside me.”

  “Say no more.”

  She wriggled onto her back, and he rolled on top of her. He slid a finger inside her pussy to arouse her again before easing in. His fierce virgin with the kind heart was his undoing.

  Willow moved with him, unselfconscious of her sighs of pleasure. In a scene or in bed, she was freer than she was anywhere else. Her pussy clenched, and he wondered if she would come again.

  He readjusted himself to press a finger against her clit and she jerked, crying out a climax. No doubt the ice had made her nerve endings more sensitive. Which was all the reason he needed to keep a supply close at hand.

  Consumed with her, he gave in to his own orgasm. It rocketed through him, more powerful than the one before. The more they knew each other, the deeper their connection grew.

  He traced her nose. “I meant it earlier. The gift of your virginity…the way you respond to me. I would never get over you.”

  For a few minutes, he held her before realizing a warm bath would probably do her a world of good.

  It took some time to convince her it was okay for them to share the bathroom. Once she sank into the tub of steaming water and closed her eyes, she no longer seemed to care that he entered the shower.

  “You were right,” she said, watching him while he dried off. “I needed this.”

  She stayed in there long enough that she needed to top off the hot water. The mirror had steamed over before she reluctantly accepted his hand to help her out of the tub.

  He dried her off, then took her to bed, naked.

  “This feels naughty. And I might freeze.”

  “I’ll keep you warm,” he promised.

  She rested her head on his biceps and he snuggled her close and drew up a sheet.

 

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