I dry off then wrap a towel in my hair and make my way to my dresser to fetch a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. Comfy is always best when I’m on a shopping mission. I’m slipping on a pair of La Perla panties when I hear my front door open. I don’t remember locking it before making a mad dash to the shower. I freeze mid step and wait . . .
I know the rational response would be to finish dressing to see who just walked in here, or better yet, lock my bedroom door and hide. I choose neither and decide to wait, naked with one leg in my panties, unable to do anything but close my eyes and stand as still as the Mary and Dickon statue in The Secret Garden in Central Park. Someone turns the door handle.
Maybe if I don’t see them, they won’t see me? Man, why can’t I still be as naive as a child?
My body breaks out in goosebumps and not from the cold. I can feel his gaze on me; I know who I will see. I take a deep breath before opening my eyes to confirm Jax standing in my doorway with a similar white box on steroids in his hands.
As he slowly scans my body, the box drop to the ground. I feel as if its his hands roaming my body instead of his eyes. My body hums with need, need for Jax. In a trance, I drop my arms to my side and welcome the fact that Jax is blatantly staring at me. If he wasn’t so sexy I would laugh. His eyes can’t seem to find a spot to look at, they keep jumping from my boobs, to my flat stomach, to my legs, and finally to my bare pussy.
“Why are you here?” I ask breathlessly.
“I wanted to see your face when you open this,” he says as his gaze roams over me.
I love every second his attention is solely focused on me. I feel like I’m on fire just from him devouring me with his eyes. I feel sexy because of him. When he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, I stare at his mouth. I want to run my tongue over his lips. Who am I kidding, I want to run my tongue over his entire body. I want to trace every line on him with my tongue.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure it’s going to stop working. I’m positive that he can hear my heart from across the room. I force myself to drag my eyes away from his more than welcoming lips. His gym clothes cling to his sweaty body. Yum, Jax and sweat. I bite my lip as I remember when I licked him clean after practice when I surprised him at NYU. I pause over his rock-hard abs, visible through his wet white shirt. I force my eyes to keep traveling, only to have them stop again at the huge bulge.
Transfixed I continue to stare at his hard on, imagining what it would feel like to have him between my legs again. I gasp at the same time that he steps towards me. I stand here, waiting to see what he will do. After a few more seconds, which feels like hours, he takes the last two steps so that he’s standing right in front of me. I lean my head back so I can look up at his handsome face. The exact second our irises meet, I know he feels it too. And just as suddenly, Jax turns around and walks out of my bedroom without uttering a single word.
Stunned, I stand here like an idiot and listen to my front door open, close, and him locking it with his key. I don’t know how long I wait in my room with one leg still in my panties, but eventually I pull them into place. Reluctantly I saunter over to the gigantic box that Jax carelessly dropped. So much for seeing my face while I open it. Sitting Indian-style, I stare at the box as if it’s a bomb. I think I know what’s in it, and if I’m right, then I don’t want to open it.
Manning up, I slowly lift the lid and peel the tissue paper away. My breath catches at the exquisite Monique Lhuillier gown. I hold the dress up to reveal an embroidered cap sleeve gown in the exact shade of turquoise as my mask and with gold embroidery on the entire dress. It has a tiered train with tiny green flecks on the bottom. It matches my mask perfectly!
Carefully I lay the dress down across the bed before returning to the box on the floor. Shuffling around the tissue paper, I find what I knew would be there. Another notecard in Jax’s handwriting.
This dress will not do you justice . . . I still look forward to seeing how beautiful you make this dress look tonight though.
I almost melt at his words, but then I remember the little incident that just took place. I hate this hot and cold game Jax always plays with me. I’m tempted to wear another dress just to spite him, but this one is so amazing that it deserves a night out. And okay, I kinda want to see Jax’s face when he sees me in it tonight.
I rummage through my dresser and grab the first oversized shirt I see, realizing it’s one of Jax’s old soccer jerseys that I’ve collected over the years. I contemplate switching it out for another one, but quickly dismiss that idea. There’s something about wearing his clothing that relaxes me; however, tonight it does the exact opposite. Instead of feeling the calm that his presence brings me, even if it’s via an old shirt, I feel anxious.
Two hours later, I French braid my bangs back, and use bobby pins to make a bun. I leave a few curls down to frame my face and I’m happy with the end result. It’s a chic updo that doesn’t take much effort. After spraying my hair into place, I work on my makeup. I use a dark eyeshadow and do smokey eyes, then add a little gold glitter, and finish up with eyeliner and mascara. I add a little blush and lastly I paint my lips a deep crimson.
Carefully I slip Jax’s jersey off of my head and toss it onto the bed besides the dress. I admire the gown for a few seconds before putting it on. The corset top fits like a glove and makes my boobs pop up with the perfect amount of cleavage and then some more, but luckily the embroidery still makes me look classy. I slip on my nude peep toe Louboutin heels and the gold clutch that I laid out earlier that matches my dress perfectly. I have five minutes before I have to be downstairs for the car. Quickly, I put on the earrings that Logan bought me from Paris last year, grab my mask, and head towards the elevators.
As soon as the elevator arrives at the lobby, my heart skips a beat . . . I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as breathtaking as the sight before me. Holy moses, I’m afraid to blink because I don’t want The God before me to evaporate if I do. I’ve seen Jax in a tux several times, more than I can count actually, and each time he looks like The God, but this time it’s just too much. It almost hurts to look at how beautiful he is. Almost is the keyword.
His back is to me as he talks on the phone. I’ve only seen his side profile and I know when he turns around I won’t be able to keep my eyes off him. When I see two passing guys stare at me, I blush and slowly step to Jax.
Noticing the two unblinking men in front of him, Jax slowly turns around and pauses mid-sentence. I stop and beam in awe. I can’t believe someone can possibly look this good. It’s truly unfair Jax doesn’t even notice the effect he causes me when he’s in a tux; heck even breathing, this man affects me. Blinking, as if coming out of a daze, he walks my way while I continue to gawk at him, wishing that he was mine again.
He stops in front of me and I have to work hard at keeping my distance. All I want to do is launch myself at him and rip his shirt apart to reveal that chiseled body he’s hiding underneath his tux. Tonight will be impossible if he’s going to look this good.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he twirls one of the loose curls that frame my face. With his other hand, he strokes from my cheek to my jaw with the tip of his index finger. I bite my lip, forcing myself not to take his finger in my mouth and suck it . . . hard.
He groans so quietly I almost don’t hear him. “I have no words to adequately describe how heart-stopping beautiful you look, Adalynn.”
Blushing scarlet red, I smile up at him. “You clean up pretty nicely, too.”
He offers me his elbow and I eagerly wrap my arm around his. Without another word to each other, we exit my apartment building to the waiting car. When I sit down, Jax helps gather the small train of the dress before closing the door and going around to the other side.
Noticing the empty limo I ask, “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you or anything, but where’s my brother?”
Jax ignores me and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his vibrating phone. “Hmmm . . . well this should be fun. Y
eah I already got her. Yeah, see you in a bit, we’re just leaving.”
I give him my no-nonsense stare when he hangs up.
Sighing dramatically he says, “Logan has some last minute things to take care of so I offered to take you.”
I laugh. “So you’re my knight in shining armor, Jax?”
He rolls his eyes.
I’m debating what to say now since we’re sitting in traffic in awkward silence when a thought hits me. “Wait, what last minute things? Logan didn’t mention anything today.”
Jax looks momentarily panicked for a whole half a second, but he quickly masks it with the unreadable expression that he uses when he’s trying to hide something from me. “Guess he doesn’t tell you everything. You know, kind of the same way you withhold information from him.”
For a second I think he’s referring to us, though his sudden hostility baffles me. Then he adds, “You know how you told him about your date with the good doctor and all.”
And the lightbulb finally comes on. So that’s why he is so cold with me all of a sudden. “You wouldn’t be jealous, would you?” I ask, knowing full well that he is, even though he won’t admit it.
“Hardly,” Jax says.
Jaxon Chandler is jealous. There’s a first for everything I guess. If only he knew that he has nothing to envy. It’s him; no matter what, he will always be it for me. Too bad I can’t tell him, I have my own demons and I know Jax will never have the courage to take this further. He’s never been able to. That’s why we sneaked around when we were teenagers, because of idea of making our relationship public freaked him out.
“I know it’s popular belief that I tell my brother everything in my life, but I actually don’t tell him about the men in my life,” I say in the most condescending voice I can manage. I give him a glare that would kill a lesser man on the spot, but of course The God beside me just glares back.
Yeah, that’s right, Jax, I said men. Plural. Suck on that. If Jax wants to keep playing the hot and cold game, then fine, I’m all in. I shift in my seat and look out the window, trying my hardest to ignore the seething man beside me. Everyone wants me to live again, to find myself, so fine, I will. The old me would never allow Jax to continue pulling this crap and frankly I’m tired of it. Enough is enough.
I don’t know if it’s the recent events or how this magnificent dress makes me feel incredibly beautiful, but I can’t wait for the Rare Disease Charity Ball. I’m going to embrace myself tonight and I won’t let Jax giving me whiplash stop me from having a good time.
Once we arrive, a quick surveillance of the room shows me that I might have options. It seems that every single man here is checking me out, some to their dates’ disappointment. All thanks to the gorgeous dress Jax bought for me. My attention drifts to the ceiling. It’s covered in lights, as if they want it to appear like the night sky. Of course I think of my brother. I know he’s had a hand in this. I’ll have to compliment him once I see him. I turn. My “date” has mysteriously disappeared within the crowd. I do, however, spot the place to boost up my courage, a short distance away. There also happens to be a sexy guy leaning against the bar ogling me.
I’m still at the bar flirting shamelessly when I feel his eyes on me. I know he is somewhere close. I choose to step up my game and ignore him like I’ve been doing since we arrived.
Setting my hand on the stranger’s bicep, I lean closer than necessary to whisper, “Are you going to just flirt with me or are you going to ask me to dance anytime soon?” I lean back and gaze into his brown eyes and bite my lip suggestively.
He places both of our champagne flutes on the table, then takes my hand and whispers, “It would be my pleasure Ms . . .?”
I lick my bottom lip and say in what I hope is a sexy voice, “Let’s not get into names.” I wave my hand vaguely around the room. “Defeats the theme for tonight.”
His eyes get heated and I’m suddenly regretting my decision to flirt with a complete stranger. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I feel his presence closing in on us and I know that I’m making the right decision after all. Jax keeps leaving me frustrated and I know this is the perfect idea.
I’m accompanying the handsome stranger to the dance floor when we see Connor and one of his blonde bimbos blocking our path. Connor is dashing in his tux and Phantom of the Opera mask. His date for the evening, if you can call it that, reminds me of all the stereotypical blondes that everyone hates. I bet her voice is even annoying. I refuse to learn her name since she will be gone by tonight . . . or within the next few hours, they never last until the morning. I look pointedly from his date to him. Connor just shrugs as if to say, “she’s hot.”
Connor leans in, gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look beyond words tonight Ada—”
“Thanks!” I say much too loudly so he doesn’t reveal my name to the stranger. “Have you seen Logan?”
The stranger beside me shifts nervously on his feet. I think it could be because of the person glaring daggers at him close by. I choose to ignore both and focus on Connor.
“Logan won’t be able to make it tonight, actually. He kindly told me at the last minute so that I would have the short car ride over to prepare my speech.”
I do the most ladylike snort. “I’m not even going to pretend to feel sorry for you. I would say something along the lines of, you can always talk your way out of anything and you’ll do great, but let’s face it, you don’t need to hear it. I’m sure you hear how great you are from the endless women on your arm.”
The bimbo, who was ignoring me and doing everything in her power to gain Connor’s attention, scowls at me. I smirk in response. There, payback for the whole crashing my date thing.
Without another word I yank on the stranger’s hand again and lead him to the dance floor. He pulls me into his arms and starts spinning me across the room. I have to admit, Mr. Mysterious really knows how to move. When he spins me back into his arms, I realize I’m having fun. He moves his hands to my lower back, which of course makes me step on his toe with my heel.
“Crap! Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Without taking his eyes off my mouth, he begins to descend for a kiss. Instinctively, I turn away at the last second so his lips graze the side of my cheek.
I can tell he’s irritated that I dodged his kiss, but I ignore it and continue to dance with him to another song. As the chorus comes through the speakers, his hand starts to roam again. I have no idea why I turned away at the last minute. I wonder if it has anything to do with Kohen, or worse with Jax. I tell myself I’m just not the kind of person to kiss random strangers.
I want to pretend to be the confident person I used to be, but I’m not her, I can’t pretend. Not even wearing a mask can transform me into a different person. When the song ends, I thank the stranger for the dance when I feel him behind me. My whole body breaks into chills. I know if I turn around, I will come face-to-face with Jax. I’m not ready, but my body doesn’t want to listen to me anymore. I slowly turn around toward the one person that I want more than anything.
I’m taken aback when it’s not Jax. This is a new stranger. The man staring intensely down at me wears a blood red mask that covers his entire face, except for his lustful lips. He looks like the devil; the mask even has horns at the top. I blink a few times, expecting this devil mask to disappear and a simple black Casanova mask to take its place.
Automatically, I take his offered hand.
Mr. Secretive pulls me close so there isn’t any space between our bodies. I can feel his hard muscles underneath his tux. My breathing has become embarrassingly noticeable, and I’m pretty positive that my skin is on fire when his hands start to roam my bare arms. I look up at his face, trying to see his eyes, but with the lack of light on the dance floor, it’s impossible to tell the color.
I’m so confused, everything in me tells me this is Jax. He’s the only one who can ignite my skin, that makes my whole body burn. But my mind can’t process why he’s in a different m
ask.
Because this isn’t him. This is Mr. Secretive.
He still hasn’t said anything and I don’t want to break the spell he has me under. He continues to grind his groin into my pelvis with the beat of the music, making it painfully obvious how aroused he is. By the pool of moisture gathering in my panties, it’s safe to say I’m in the same boat as him. The song is almost over when I get a quick whiff of his cologne.
And I know without a doubt who’s behind the mask.
I shouldn’t have doubted myself. I knew it was Jax before I turned around. I know him. My body knows him. I can feel him even from across the room. It’s as if my body, my soul, wants to haunt me forever. To torture me some more by reminding me what I can never have.
Jax.
Chapter Eight
Reaching up, I thread my hands through his velvety soft hair. I pull his head down to me and press my lips to his. Jax releases his hold on my hips to cup my face as he deepens the kiss. I meet his tongue eagerly, loving the taste of him. I nibble on his lip and he growls into my mouth, turning me on even more. He’s the one to pull back first. I smile when I see he’s as breathless as I am. We’ve both just run an imaginary marathon.
The smoldering look he gives me makes me shiver. I’ve never wanted anyone as desperately as I want him right here, right now. Without thinking long enough to talk myself out of it, I grip his hand and lead him off the dance floor. If there wasn’t people everywhere I would be sprinting with him to the nearest closed door. I weave us through the crowd and out to the hallway. I pull him along while I find somewhere for us to be alone.
The first door we come to is locked. Same thing for the second one. We both sigh in relief when the third door opens. As I tug him in after me, my heel catches on the rug and I start to fall, but his grip on my hand saves me. He holds me to him as if he’s afraid to let me go. Spinning me around, he roughly slams his body into mine, banging my back into the wall. His hands are everywhere.
Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1) Page 11
