JAXON (The Caine Brothers Book 4)

by Margaret Madigan

He guided her to their table, left a hundred dollar bill in the folder with their tab, then led her to the door. His urgency infected her, but she had no idea why they were in such a hurry to leave.

  “Slow down, Jaxon,” she said, trying not to trip over her wedge heels.

  By this time they’d reached the parking lot. “Sorry,” he said, slowing his pace. “I didn’t want to get ambushed by a huge crowd wanting autographs when the night should be about Tooth and Nail, not about me. I’ll be giving Dude a load of shit for doing that.”

  At his car he unlocked and held the door for her, then circled the car and climbed in his side.

  “That’s okay. I think it’s wonderful you care about Tooth and Nail like that.”

  “I remember what it’s like to be that band. It’s been a while, but we all have to start somewhere, and it’s these kind of gigs that make a difference.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking space. “If we’d been playing a gig and some superstar came along I’d be happy to be associated with him, but I’d also feel like he stole our spotlight.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Plus, they were pretty good. Maybe I’ll ask them to open for us at our next concert.”

  They pulled out into traffic, and the shadows of night time wrapped around Lily and the car and Jaxon to turn it into their own secret place. The inside of the car smelled like Jaxon—a combination of his cologne, the leather of the seats, and the mixed up scents of regular use like faded sweat and fast food. Sorting the things in her head, they sounded gross, but it humanized him again despite the expensive car and the celebrity close call.

  “Where are we going?” Lily asked.

  “No idea. Just kind of driving to drive right now. I like night driving. The darkness and lights and night people are a completely different world than daytime.”

  “You know what sounds good?”

  “What?”

  “A chocolate milkshake.”

  The brake lights of the car in front of them illuminated Jaxon’s face, bathing it in red light. “We can do that. I know a good place.”

  He drove them through the city streets in no hurry.

  “You live in Houston?” Lily asked.

  “I do. When I’m not on the road. You want to see my place?”

  “Yes.”

  They pulled into the drive-through of a fifties-themed burger place and ordered two large chocolate milkshakes before pulling back out into traffic. The shakes were thick, cold, and richly chocolatey.

  “This is perfect,” Lily said. She slurped her shake and hummed a happy sound.

  Jaxon chuckled. “Watching you suck on that thing is turning me on. That sound only makes it worse.”

  High on a lovely evening of fabulous food, dancing, music, and chocolate, Lily shot Jaxon some flirty side eye, then said, “What, you mean this sound?” She followed with a more provocative, throaty version of the sound she’d just made.

  Jaxon’s smile faltered and he swallowed hard. He fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

  Lily reached across the space between them to push his hair back a bit, mostly just for the excuse to touch him. She traced the curve of his ear, sifted her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck where it was soft and warm, then contrasted that by caressing the back of her hand over the bristled stubble of his jaw. The muscles twitched under her hand as he leaned into her touch.

  The energy in the car mounted, suddenly thick with desire. Lily watched Jaxon reach down to his groin to adjust himself. His hard-on strained against his jeans and a sudden memory of it, with its fat, engorged veins erect against his belly popped into her head and her insides throbbed with a shocking, greedy desire to have him inside her.

  “Are we almost there?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper in the confines of the car. She almost didn’t recognize it herself.

  “Yes.”

  They’d arrived downtown where Jaxon pulled into a parking structure. They didn’t speak, but the air vibrated with anticipation and unspoken promises. Lily’s skin hummed for Jaxon’s touch. She wanted to be naked with him, feel his body against hers, on top of hers, inside hers. She squirmed in her seat, unable to sit still and wait patiently.

  “Park already,” she said.

  “Hush. I need to focus on driving. If you don’t sit your ass still I’m going to be dizzy from the blood rushing to my dick.”

  He pulled the car into a numbered space, and shut it off. He threw off his seatbelt, then wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her into a kiss. There was nothing gentle about it, which suited Lily fine since it took all her willpower not to tear his clothes off right there in the car.

  He broke the kiss and opened his door. “Come on.”

  His voice was an urgent command rather than a casual suggestion. Lily hopped out of the car and Jaxon met her, grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers through hers, before urging her to the elevator.

  As they rode the elevator upstairs, Jaxon didn’t touch her or look at her, but the air between them sizzled. It took willpower not to whimper her need.

  The elevator dinged and came to a halt, the doors opening onto a hallway of brick walls and hardwood floors.

  Jaxon dragged her down the hall, fumbled with unlocking a door, then pulled her inside, slamming the door behind them.

  “That dress has been taunting me all night,” he said.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I want it off you. All those buttons. I’ve been mentally undoing them all fucking night.”

  Lily fingered the top button, undoing it with casual slowness revealing an inch more of her cleavage. “You mean these buttons?”

  With his gaze glued to the movement of her fingers, she made slow work of undoing the buttons as she looked around his place. The potency of the desire between them increased with every moment, building and building in a delicious wave.

  She took a few steps away from the door. Brick and glass dominated the space with a stunning view of downtown.

  “Lily. What are you doing?”

  “Prolonging.”

  “You’ve become quite a flirt, you know?”

  She opened another button. By now she’d progressed below her breasts.

  “You’re overdressed. You’d better hurry if you want to catch up,” she said.

  She passed between a cream-colored leather couch and a breakfast bar. He hadn’t turned on the lights when they entered, so the only illumination came from the city and the moon.

  Jaxon wasted no time shucking his shirt. Her heart stuttered at the sight of his bare chest. Again. She’d seen naked men before, but none of them had the same effect on her. Maybe it was because Jaxon cared enough when he was naked to be sure she had fun, too. Maybe it was just because he cared. But every time she saw him—with our without clothes—her heart swelled.

  She opened a couple more buttons.

  Then he undid his belt and pants and shucked those, too.

  Lord, what a glorious specimen.

  She slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, followed quickly by her panties until they both stood naked in his dark loft.

  “Jesus, Lily,” Jaxon said, closing the space between them. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

  A frisson of something exciting slipped down her spine.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned in to kiss her, his erection nudging her belly. She reached between them to stroke it, one then two long, slow caresses, drawing a deep, rumbling growl from Jaxon.

  He broke their kiss and before she knew what had happened, he took her hand in his and spun her, driving her toward the large glass window overlooking the city.

  “Put your hands on the window,” he said.

  With one hand on her hip he pulled her ass backwards while using his other hand to bend her at the waist. If she didn’t want to fall flat on her face, she had to brace herself on the window.

  He lean
ed over her back, guiding his erection to slide it into her wet folds, but not inside her just yet. He kissed her shoulders, her ribs down one side, across the small of her back, then back up the other side, all the while her skin coming alive with tingling impatience. When he reached around underneath and tweaked first one nipple and then the other she gasped and then moaned as her core clenched at the thing it wanted, just out of reach.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” she said.

  “Good. I want you to come with the whole city before you.”

  All the glass and city lights exposed her to the world while still hidden by the darkness of the loft. Anyone who even had a vantage to see inside wouldn’t see much in the dark shadows. On the other hand, she did have pale skin that came just short of glowing in the dark. At the moment, though, she didn’t care. He’d driven her to the point of discarding inhibitions. All she wanted was to be one with him.

  The tear of a foil packet invited heat to pool between her legs. Who knew sounds could be such a turn-on?

  His body moved away from hers for a moment and then he guided himself to her opening. She arched her back to give him better access. When he slid inside and held himself there, filling her, she stayed still enjoying the moment—her body charged, aroused, tense, on the verge. Then he pulled back and thrust and she let go of thought and allowed herself to experience the slow build, the gasping, the grasping, whimpering, moaning. Then as the first hint of her climax curled in her core she pushed back harder, thrust for thrust until the orgasm unfurled and she erupted in a million splintered bits with the entire city of Houston as witness.

  Jaxon plunged in hard, one more time, and came as she floated down from her heights, his hands gripping her hips tightly to drive himself in as deeply as possible.

  ***

  Jaxon woke the next morning with Lily in his arms, in his bed. Her ginger hair tumbled over the pillow in a sleep-mess and sparkled in the morning sunshine. For a weird, frozen moment in time it felt like seeing her there for the first time but also like she’d always been there and always would be.

  With the back of his fingers, he caressed her cheek then swept strands of hair off her face to tuck them behind her ear. He traced freckles from her ear down her jaw like connecting the dots of a constellation. It took his breath away that a woman so beautiful inside and out found him worthy of her attention.

  She stirred next to him, snuggling closer and wrapping an arm around his chest. The sheet slipped down her body, revealing her rosy nipples and apple-round breasts.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured. “Last night was wonderful.”

  “It was.” He traced a lazy circle around her nipple and watched it tighten into a hard little bud. “This morning is pretty amazing, too. I like waking up with you in my bed.”

  She pressed her hips against his thigh, the warmest part of her heating his skin. “I like it, too. I could get used to it.”

  He caressed the slope of her shoulder. “Me, too.”

  She opened her eyes and scrunched her brows together. “So where does that leave us?”

  Where did it leave them? If he had to be completely honest with himself, he really liked Lily. Sure, he liked her body a lot, and the sex was fun and the orgasms were amazing. But the sex was better because it was her. He loved her fire and determination, her humor and heart, her depth and selflessness.

  Was this what it felt like to fall in love? He’d never done it before so he had no idea. When he thought about going back to his life without her, a shot of alarm swirled in his belly. He didn’t want to just go back to the way his life had been. Now that he’d met Lily, he didn’t think he could anyway.

  “Honestly? I don’t know, Lily. I know I’m crazy about you, though.”

  Her pleased smile hinted at the same kind of uncertainty he felt, but she said, “I’m crazy about you, too.”

  The unanswered question about the future hung in the air between them, but he had no doubt as they lay in each other’s arms, they were both thinking about it. He wanted both lives—to stay with Lily at the estate and become part of her purposeful life. To go to bed with her, wake up with her, help people, love her, have a family, and drown in the happiness of that life. But he also needed his creative life. His muse had disappeared, but he’d show up again eventually—at least Jaxon hoped so—and when he did Jaxon would go back to writing. He’d meant it when he told Lily that music fed his soul. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without it. Besides, his band depended on him, and he needed them, too. Them and the adrenaline of being on stage, of performing and the symbiosis with the audience.

  For the life of him, though, he couldn’t make those two lives blend in his mind. Which meant, he’d have to pick one. He didn’t want to think about that, because he didn’t know which one he’d pick. A tiny voice in the back of his head told him he knew damn well which one he’d pick, but he ignored it. At the very least, he didn’t want Lily to have expectations. It wouldn’t be fair.

  He gathered her close, kissed her forehead, and said, “Look, Lily, like I said, I really like you, but…”

  She interrupted him. “…Hush. I don’t want to talk about anything beyond right now. I’m not stupid. I know you’re not here to stay. But I want to enjoy the time we do have together.”

  Her perception sent shivers down his spine. Nobody had ever been able to read him like she did. It scared him, when it didn’t make him feel warm and fuzzy that a woman cared enough about him to look beneath the surface.

  “Okay. But we’ll have to talk about it eventually.”

  “I know. Just not now.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The next month flew by in blissful peace. Jaxon sank into the rhythm of Lily’s life of gardening, deliveries, and helping people. Her friends and associates got used to him and accepted him. Summer gave him an endlessly hard time about everything, and he loved just being a person again instead of an isolated celebrity.

  Until he woke up one morning in the middle of September in Lily’s bed with an entire album in his head.

  He lay wrapped up in Lily’s arms and legs, frozen for a moment with astonishment, and then he jumped up and whooped as he scrambled to find his pants.

  Lily pushed hair out of her face and peeked up at him from one squinty eye. “What?”

  “My muse is back,” he said.

  He leaned down to kiss her, then tossed a shirt on and ran out of the room.

  Downstairs in the music room Jaxon sat at the piano. He only hesitated a moment before resting his fingers on the keys and closing his eyes.

  He played.

  The music flowed through him. Not the new songs in his head. Not yet. He warmed up with his older songs, and music from other artists.

  He played everything from Stevie Wonder to Mozart, and relief flooded his heart that he could hear the music again.

  After he’d warmed up, he dug around and found some blank paper and a pencil, grabbed the guitar from its case, and went to work.

  A while later—he had no idea how long—Lily showed up at the door.

  “Breakfast is ready,” she said.

  He sat in a chair, the guitar on his lap, a pencil behind his ear, and paper strewn everywhere. “No time. I’m in the zone.”

  He felt like a rock god. Notes and music, ideas, words, themes all flowed through him like divine inspiration. This was the kind of rush he craved as a musician—the pure joy of the creative process.

  “What are you working on?” Lily asked.

  “My next album.” Like a fever breaking, he welcomed the healing relief of being able to say those words.

  “You’ve been here over a month and this is the first time you’ve even come near this room. I didn’t know you even knew it existed.”

  “I found it the first day.”

  “Why now?”

  He ran his hands through his hair, pulling it into a knot at the back and securing it with a band from his wrist. Now that his muse had returned, bringing Jaxon’s con
fidence with him, and he had songs on the page, he didn’t feel weak talking about it to Lily.

  “I came here mostly because I lost my edge. I had to write new songs but I couldn’t.”

  “But you can now?”

  The way she said it triggered a sour burn in his gut—like she’d put all the pieces together that quickly and realized if he’d come to retreat because he couldn’t write, but now he could write, that meant he’d be leaving soon. Of course, she was right. With an album’s worth of songs and an appointment in the studio for next month, he’d have to leave.

  “Yeah. My stupid muse must have just needed a vacation, but he’s back. I’ve got some good stuff here, too.”

  “I’m glad. So when are you leaving?”

  Her soft, sad voice broke his heart. Dammit. “We’re scheduled in the studio the first week of October.”

  She nodded. “There’s a harvest festival event next week. We’ll have a farmer’s market, booths, games, dancing, music. Will you stay long enough to go with me? You can say goodbye to a lot of the people you’ve met.”

  He stood, left the guitar in the chair, and went to her, kneeling in front of her. He took her hands in his and looked up at her. “Lily, I don’t even know what to say. When I came here, I had no intention of falling in…”

  She interrupted him. “Don’t say it. If you’re not staying, don’t say it.”

  “I can’t stay,” he said. He hadn’t been a hundred percent sure about that until the words had flowed like water onto the page and it had been obvious he’d have to go to the studio. He’d have to leave. “You helped me get my head on straight. I’ll never be the same, which is a really good thing. I’d turned into a real asshole, but you put me onto a better path. But I’m a musician. It’s what I’m meant to do.”

  She nodded. Her eyes had become glassy with unshed tears. “I know.”

  “You could come with me.” As he said it he knew she wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t even begin to imagine Lily on the road.

  Her sad smile answered for her. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, then, let’s make the next week count for something.”

  “Okay.” She sat up straighter and tried to summon cheerfulness, though when he looked closer dark smudges filled the space beneath her eyes. “So how about breakfast?” She asked.