Forever Wicked: Wicked #4

by Piper Lawson

  Nina reaches for another bottle and drains that one, too.

  When the car stops at the emergency room, we start out of the limo, but Nina grabs for the third bottle on the door.

  A male nurse looks up from his clipboard as we approach the registration window inside the emergency room.

  “What is that?” he asks, nodding toward the bottle in Nina’s fingertips.

  “Pain management.”

  “You can’t bring that in here.”

  I expect her to protest, having watched her negotiate with the biggest venue owners in North America and go head-to-head with producers and CFOs over tour budgets.

  Instead she nods solemnly. “I understand.”

  Nina looks around the triage room filled with a dozen other patients and their loved ones.

  Then unscrews the lid and drains the bottle.

  8

  Haley

  When we get home, it’s after three and no one’s awake on the main level despite the lights being on in the hall and living room.

  We get Nina set up in a spare bedroom to avoid her getting jostled by Brick, who’s snoring and taking up the entire bed in theirs.

  By the time I head to my room, exhaustion is setting in, along with the reality that our wedding planner is drunk and half-maimed down the hall.

  As I turn the handle carefully, I prepare my eyes to adjust to the blackness. But as I push the door in, there’s a light on in the corner.

  Our room’s large and sprawling. A master suite at its most extreme. An en suite goes off one side. A walk-in closet that’s the size of my bedroom when I was in college goes off another door. There’s a sitting area at one end with a full-sized couch, coffee table, and chairs, plus the four-poster king bed in the center.

  My fiancé’s sitting, asleep, in his favorite wingback chair by the huge window.

  “Hey,” I say softly, closing the door behind me.

  Jax twitches in his seat, straightening so his gaze meets mine. “What time is it?”

  “Almost four. When’d you get home?”

  “Couple hours ago. You have fun?”

  “It was more extreme than I imagined. Nina dislocated her shoulder.” Both Jax’s eyebrows rise in tandem.“The doctors set it, put it in a sling, and told her to be careful over the next few weeks. We tried to shush her with painkillers and talk of subcontractors.

  “Did you guys have fun?” I ask, fully taking in my fiancé for the first time.

  He’s wearing a tight, black T-shirt and blue jeans, the same uniform that hooked me years ago. The angle of that jaw is perfect, masculine and square, hinting at the stubbornness that drives me crazy even as I can’t help but respect it. His muscled shoulders and chest and forearms make my throat dry.

  Sharing space with Jax always affects me. I’ve never ceased wondering at his ability to arouse me, agitate me, and calm me at different times.

  Tonight, his simple presence soothes my nerves.

  I bridge the distance between us, my sock feet sinking into the plush carpet.

  Jax lifts his chin, somehow managing to look as if he’s staring down at me even though he’s sitting. “It was… revealing. We ended up at a strip club.”

  Every tired muscle in me tightens as I stop in front of his chair.

  I can deal with the fact that women throw themselves at my future husband in part because he never throws himself back.

  Now, the vision of half-naked women dancing anywhere near my fiancé has me furious.

  “Tell me you’re joking.” There’s no mistaking the edge in my tone.

  Jax leans forward, deliberate, his amber eyes glowing on mine. When our mouths are inches apart, he stops.

  “It was a male strip club.”

  I blink, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Me either. If they guys ask, tell them I loved it.” He grins, and before I can pull back, his thumb brushes my lower lip as he murmurs, “But I like seeing you jealous.”

  My anger slips away a bit at a time, replaced by a pulsing need in my veins as he looks at me.

  My fiancé—husband, soon—is fucking hot. He’s also fierce and determined and devoted.

  “What’s that look?” he asks, curiosity entering his expression, the hint of a smile curving his lips.

  “You.”

  Jax’s eyes flash as he drops his gaze down my body and back up. I’m glad I wore tight faux-leather leggings for the axe throwing thing and that I’d decided the evening wouldn’t be physical enough to warrant a sports bra and opted for a push-up under my white tank.

  “Back at you, Hales.” His voice has lowered an octave.

  That voice that had me from the start. Even before I knew him.

  The voice that seduced millions of people. And he’s looking at me. He’s all mine.

  I climb into his lap, straddling his hard thighs. Jax’s chin tilts up, his eyes darkening to glowing embers on mine. His hands slide up my thighs to my ass, tugging me possessively against his groin, where there’s growing evidence we’re desperate for the same sweet relief.

  “We should probably be figuring out how to manage without our wedding planner,” I murmur.

  “Someone’s getting married?” His joke is a rasp as he looks between my eyes and my mouth.

  Lust overtakes me, a wave that’s been building in strength these past days. Weeks.

  I need him, the man I love, but I also need the release only he can give me.

  He’s on the same page, but when I lower my mouth to his, his hands grip my hair, holding me a breath away. “Hales, I can’t go slow tonight.”

  His beautiful voice is raw silk against my lips.

  “Good.”

  I crush my mouth to his.

  Jax isn’t content to let me lead. His grip on me tightens, and he grinds me against him as if it’s his right to use me however he wants.

  It’s dirty and arrogant.

  I love it.

  He’s going to have to peel these pants off me because beneath them, I’m soaked.

  But if I’m desperate, Jax is ruthless. He devours my mouth, tasting every inch of me before dragging his lips along my jaw, scraping his teeth down my neck until I whimper and press closer. My fingers stroke down his chest. His grunt ends on a hiss as I reach his abs and jerk his shirt up high enough that I can press my palm to his cut stomach and feel it twitch under my touch.

  It’s not enough. I need assurance from his body that I’m not ready to ask for with my words. That no matter what happens with me, with us, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.

  I sigh against his mouth as I trail my hands along his hot skin, my fingertips playing with the trail of hair right above the button of his jeans.

  Before I can protest, he lifts me without effort, my breath catching as he carries me to the wall and sets me on the floor.

  “Every inch of you is mine.” His rasp is hot on my neck as he yanks on the waist of my pants, stripping them off with impressive efficiency.

  He drags a hand up my thigh, under the panel of my panties that’re already soaked, and I hiccup a breath at the feel of it.

  The sound of tearing fabric has me gasping as I look down to see he’s ripped my underwear clean off.

  Nope. The sex has not gotten boring.

  I reach for his shirt, intent on beginning my own assault, but he pushes my fingers away, reaching under my top, flicking the clasp of my bra, and cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples under his skilled fingers.

  Oh my God.

  Madness has me reaching for his jeans only to find he’s already got them open. His cock is there, huge and hard and straining against my hand.

  I wrap a hand around his cock, loving the way his nostrils flare.

  Whatever little control he was clutching snaps.

  Jax devours me with a “Fucking hell, Hales,” against my mouth that’s more vibration than words.

  He positions himself between my thighs and, without warning, slides home in a single stro
ke.

  I moan from the feel of him.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight after a month without me,” Jax groans as he fills me, stretches me in that way that makes me gulp oxygen as I struggle to adjust. It’s uncomfortable but so good, and I moan at the contrast, the duality of it. “If you’re not quiet, they’re gonna hear you.”

  “They know we have sex,” I pant, tightening my grip on his neck as if I can keep him from withdrawing.

  “But now they’re gonna know you’re so—” He pulls nearly all the way out, then thrusts hard enough my entire body shudders around him. “Fucking.” Again, my nails dig into his shoulders. “Ruined for me.”

  This time I cry out, from the feeling and the knowledge that every part of him, every inch, every atom, is in this moment.

  I used to wonder what true physical intimacy felt like.

  Now I know it doesn’t matter whether we’re slow or fast, gentle or rough.

  It’s overwhelming and intoxicating. It’s knowing there’s something in this world bigger than you, beyond your control…

  But that same wondrous thing would miss you, would be irrevocably changed, if you left.

  Jax builds a rhythm I couldn’t resist if I wanted to.

  When we both come, it’s explosive. The entire world craters, and the only thing that’s real is the pleasure throbbing through my core, along my arms and legs. Even my lips are tingling.

  I swear it takes minutes for me to feel my fingers and toes again.

  Jax is still panting against my throat when a loud buzzing has our heads jerking toward the nightstand, where my phone screen is lit up.

  I can just make out the name. Carter.

  Jax stiffens as he sees it too.

  My muscles tighten in warning, the intense physical release forgotten in a heartbeat as he reaches for the phone.

  Jax glances at the message before holding it out to me.

  * * *

  Just looked at the proposal. You must be determined to do this deal. You write that at the salon between manicures?

  * * *

  I can’t help cursing the bad timing. I left my phone on because I wanted to be available if Jax or one of the guys texted and forgot to turn it off when I arrived home. “Jax—”

  When I look up, Jax’s face is dark with accusation. “I know you’ve been distracted lately. I get it now.”

  “You do?” My hand drifts to my bare stomach, and I feel exposed in a way that goes far deeper than my nakedness.

  “I figured you were stressed with all the wedding details, but your head’s not even here. You’re thinking about work and Philly, everything except for us.”

  His voice still low but guarded now, the opposite of the intimacy and adoration from a few minutes ago. The words land heavily on my heart, each one a stone that dents and bruises.

  “That’s not true,” I insist.

  “Isn’t it?” Jax crosses the room to the closet, emerges a moment later with pajama pants, and yanks them on.

  I watch him stalk across the floor to the bedroom door. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m too worked up to sleep.”

  “We have the ceremony rehearsal tomorrow at ten.”

  Jax cuts me a long look, his jaw still ticking. “I’ll be there.”

  9

  Three days until the wedding

  I wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom with pale-gray walls, alone and with a kink in my neck.

  It takes a moment for me to catch up to where the hell I am.

  When I remember last night, I almost wish I hadn’t.

  I don’t regret the sex. The way Haley and I tore at each other was hot as fuck, and as I pad toward a mirror, I can see the evidence in scratches on my shoulders, bruises under the ink. It was incredible, though it was also supposed to be the warm-up round. It’s barely made a dent in the pent-up reservoir of need I have for her.

  But we were interrupted when I noticed the message from Carter.

  I know I overreacted, but that’s how I am. That’s also why my first stop when leave the spare room and start down the long hall is our room.

  My fiancée’s asleep in our massive bed. Despite the fact that she’s alone, her body’s curled on her side as if leaving room for me.

  My chest contracts as I cross to her, take in her pale face. Her hair spilling across the pillow.

  I drop a kiss at the corner of her mouth that has her moaning softly.

  I’m not mad at her. We’ve had disagreements before but nothing I could hold on to in my heart.

  Because, I’ve realized over the past few months, my heart belongs to Haley—she’s the only one brave enough, bold enough to hold it.

  After getting dressed quietly so I don’t wake her, I head to the kitchen to grab a coffee and glance at Nina’s hard-copy hotel room list for our guests.

  When I’ve got the info I need, I hop into my Bentley and take off down the driveway.

  At the hotel, I go right to the first-floor room and knock.

  No answer.

  Again, louder.

  I start back down the hall, glancing into the gym, and I stop. I jerk open the door and stalk inside to where Haley’s business partner is on the treadmill.

  “Jax.”

  “Connor.” I deliberately say his name wrong because it’s what we do.

  In theory, I see how he’d be attractive to the wide-eyed freshman class, with the hard part, glasses that are probably fashion over form, a too-white smile and hair so light he must spend more time on a beach instead of in his office.

  Haley’s way too smart to get caught up in that.

  “When we invited you to the wedding, I didn’t expect you to say yes,” I go on, pleasant.

  “Haley and I are close. I couldn’t have said no.”

  “You could’ve.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “I could’ve. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

  The fact that he thinks he has the power to do anything to her chafes. But I keep my irritation in check because I have more important matters to focus on.

  “Haley’s got a new client she wants to work with. You can take care of it.”

  “You think because the world bows at your feet, you can tell me what to do?” He gets smugger. “I know you’re arrogant, but this is another level.”

  The prick looks like a rodent, but who knows—maybe he’s open to reason. “We both want Haley to be happy. But at the moment, her life is more complicated than it needs to be.”

  “Haley’s life? Or Haley? Maybe she’s more complicated than you gave her credit for.”

  The glint in his eye has my hands fisting at my sides.

  A few years ago, there would have been no chance I’d walk out of here without laying him flat on his back. Now, I take a deep breath as he continues.

  “You can sweep her off her feet. You can take her to Dallas. Hell, you can even marry her. But you’ll never control her.”

  “I didn’t come down here to control her,” I state, a deadly calm coming over me. “I came here to tell you that if you are business partners, you will act like you own a pair and deal with this and let her have this week.”

  “And here I thought you just needed a more intense workout than in the pool. I hear it’s harder to stay in shape after thirty.”

  I hit the up button on his treadmill a few times, kicking his pace from nine miles an hour up to eleven.

  “I can only imagine how hard it is to stay in shape locked in your ivory tower and listening to teenagers bitch all day.”

  Sweat drips from his brow. “It is. Haley spends her days in front of a computer. I don’t know how she stays looking like that.”

  I hit the up button some more.

  Twelve.

  “I help her out. With that and anything else she needs.”

  My finger hovers over the button as Carter’s eyes widen.

  I press it again.

  Thirteen.

  By now Carter’s wheezing, his legs churning under him in a satis
fyingly stilted way.

  He hits the down button until the treadmill stops.

  He grabs for his water bottle, but I snag it first.

  “The harder you squeeze, the more she’s going to slip away,” he says, trying not to pant. I unscrew the lid slowly, peering inside at the water. “Haley’s the most independent woman I’ve met. That’s never going to change. Not even for you.”

  I look at him, my face deliberately blank.

  What was it Haley said when we got screwed out of that Big Leap funding?

  “Don’t burn tomorrow for today. They may not have sided with you on this one, but it doesn’t mean they won’t another time. Listen to them; show them you appreciate what they have to say.”

  I can do that. But her style is more easygoing than mine, so I decide to ad lib.

  “Thanks for the advice, Connor.”

  The smugness melts from his face as if he’s equally shocked by my words and friendly tone.

  Then I dump the contents of the water bottle over his head, taking a moment to watch the water pour off his hair onto the treadmill belt before I turn to leave.

  10

  Haley

  “Why the hell isn’t he answering his phone?” Nina demands, then winces as she holds her good arm over her stomach as if it’s shifting inside.

  She takes in the narrow-eyed minister a few feet away. “Sorry, Father. I’m not used to being hungover.”

  I glance toward the doors of the church as if my fiancé will walk in any second. “He said he’d be here.”

  I bite my lip and try Jax’s cell again. It rings four times before his voicemail kicks in. “Maybe we can do the walk-through without him and fill him in once he arrives?”

  No one looks excited, but we do it anyway.

  “Brick and Annie walk first,” Nina says, her voice fainter than usual. “Then Serena and Kyle.”

  “Why not me and you?” Kyle asks Nina as Serena offers her arm, his usually affable face constricted. I swear he cuts a nervous glance toward the pew Wes is sitting in a few rows back.