Jax: Black Angels MC, #3

by Fisher, A. E.

  Everybody said he wasn’t shy about it. In fact, he boasted about the leather collection he kept at the club, and the women I’d met weren’t afraid to tell me every detail about what he did to them.

  That pissed me off.

  Not at Jax but at the women. Did they have no shame? Or was it just confidence? Either way I didn’t like the way they flashed their experience around like a trophy.

  But no matter how pissed off at those girls I was, I was more pissed off at myself.

  Because I wanted one too.

  Not a trophy to wave around with bravado. But I wanted to be let into that part of Jax’s world. I wanted to show him that I was willing to try and accept that side of him. Couldn’t guarantee I would like it. I knew I didn’t when he tied me to a tree on our birthday when we were kids. But even I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that was all it was.

  All I needed to know was that it meant something to him.

  And that I wanted to give him that.

  I wanted to try.

  But how could I try when Jax wouldn’t even give me a chance? I didn’t even have an opportunity to wedge my shoe in the door because even at the subtle hint of it, he didn’t just shut me down, he shut me out.

  He didn’t want to think about it in my presence.

  What did that mean for us?

  If he was going to abandon me in bed at the slightest chance, then we wouldn’t be going much further. Even after coming this far.

  I knew couples could live with a normal sex life. But to deny a part of a person you’re supposed to love without trying would just be… selfish and painful.

  The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Jax’s footsteps stopped in the doorway. “Ronnie?” Jax called out into the dark room. “You asleep?”

  No.

  I didn’t reply.

  A heavy sigh was released into the air as Jax’s feet wavered in the doorway, the wood creaking with every rock of his foot. “Shit,” he grunted, careless footsteps carrying him over to the wooden set of drawers, before he made a racket shuffling through them and slamming them closed.

  He walked back over to the bed, pausing before climbing in.

  I was facing the wall, but I could feel Jax’s eyes bearing into the back of my head.

  I was sure Jax fell asleep after a while, and I turned over to face him. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes, his face a picture of peace as it pressed into the soft pillows. He breathed soundly, the tattooed ink seeming to dance acrossthe tanned tone of his skin.

  They look like a shield, I observed. The patterns and designs covering every vulnerable spot, and everything in between, was like a line drawn between himself and everybody else.

  The tattoo of the club on his back told me that his brothers were standing on the other side of that line. Stood on the side with him on it.

  The side I had once stood on as well.

  Before the line had been drawn.

  Before I made him draw it.

  After all this time, the way I had refused to leave with him was still etched into his skin and soul. It was a decision I could never take back. One I still wouldn’t change. But maybe…I should have done it a different way and then maybe… maybe avoid all the pain that had sat between us. But I couldn’t turn back time, and the things I had done were just that. Done. No take backs.

  I felt my eyes begin to burn with the silence.

  Will our feelings be enough to fix that? Can we really write our future over such a painful past? Will we be able to fix our relationship?

  The more tears that fell, the more questions came to my head. All questions and no answers. I wondered if I would ever find them with time.

  I hoped for it. But most of all….

  I doubted-

  “Fuck this shit,” Jax’s voice snapped, making me leap out of my skin.

  “Jesus Christ, Jax,” I yelped, flipping back to the sheets to face the man launching himself out of bed. He threw the covers without care and with enough force to slap me in the face. “I thought you were asleep!”

  “How the fuck can I go to sleep when I know you’re crying?” Jax growled, prowling around to my side of the bed. The energy he had burst from the bed with seemed to have dwindled into a soft simmer as he dropped to one knee next to me. His hands grasped my thighs and pulled my ass to face him. My knees pressed against his naked chest, the warmth of his skin making me realize how cold my own skin had become.

  He shoved his hair out of his face with a rough hand, and half of it fell back forward. He didn’t seem to give a fuck. His deep brown eyes were alluring in the shadows of the room. The faint glow of moonlight slipping through the thin curtains glinted over their smooth surface with a transparency I felt was looking deep into my soul.

  “Talk to me,” Jax pleaded, his hands squeezing around my knees.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I huffed, not able to look at his face. I reached up to rub the damp patches on my cheeks. If only I could fool myself and him that they didn’t exist.

  “Is this about the fact I won’t tie you up?”

  “What?” I flinched. He’d hit the nail on the head.

  “I know how big the old ladies’ mouths are. And their noses even more so. I’d be the biggest dumbass to think that they hadn’t tried to gossip about my sex life with you,” Jax explained on a heavy sigh. He didn’t look pissed, but the deep frown over his brows told me he was more frustrated than anything resembling anger or upset. “I never hid it from them, and I didn’t intend to hide it from you.”

  “Then why….” I couldn’t even bring myself to ask the question. I felt pathetic asking. It was needy, and it was so unlike me that I wanted to pull my legs back from him and escape. At the slightest tug of my limbs, his grip tightened underneath my knees, cupping them toward him.

  “Why haven’t I tried to tie you up?”

  I nodded.

  Jax sighed.

  I knew it. It was pathetic. He thought I was being needy and knowing all the loose women Jax had slept with, I knew he didn’t like that in a woman. But what reference did I have for girls like me? He never would have turned his eyes to a girl like me had we not had the past that we did.

  “I knew it,” I sobbed, the sound uncontrollable. “You don’t want to do that with me.”

  “Ronnie,” Jax growled, rising to his feet.

  I took the opportunity to pull my legs back, skirting as far back on the bed as I could. His eyes narrowed at the movement, but I didn’t care. The tears were falling again, and I was desperate to hide them, my arms rubbing at my face so hard I thought I would tear off my skin before the ugly display went away.

  “I get that I’m boyish. I’m not experienced or sexy or have the big boobs that you like. I’m not blonde or have soft skin, or long nails.” I sobbed.

  “Ron—”

  “I just didn’t think that I was such a big turn off for you until now.” I grabbed a fistful of the sheets and brought them up to my face, wiping snot and whatever disgusting liquid was streaming from my face into it.

  “Ronnie, just list—”

  “I don’t even know why I thought this would work. We’re not compatible. You probably don’t even really like m—”

  I screamed.

  My legs were torn out from underneath me, jerked so hard and fast down the bed that I couldn’t compute how I made it from the top of the bed to half hanging off the side. I gasped for the breath I lost as my head had hit the mattress, but I lost it as I saw the expression painted on Jax’s face.

  His arms were braced around my knees, the culprit of my recent rollercoaster. The ink on his skin blended into the darkness around him like a vibrating, black mass hanging above me. Neither the vice-grip he had on my body nor the way his muscles were rippling with quaking strength were the reason I froze.

  His expression was one I had rarely seen on him. It was oppressing. Unfriendly. Unfamiliar. It was… scary.

  “J-Jax…,” I whispered, not wanting to move in the
fear I could cause a reaction in him.

  “Never,” Jax growled, the voice deep and rumbling and making me feel as small as a mouse. “Never assume what I’m thinking. Because you don’t know. Nobody knows what I’m thinking except me, okay?”

  “Jax, I—”

  “No, Ronnie.” Jax cut me off. “You’re not my parents. You’re not my friends. And you’re certainly not me.”

  I felt my bottom lip quiver as the shock that had dried my eyes welled up again. “But—”

  “So,” His thumb pressed against my lip, soft, gentle, and smooth across the quivering mess, “don’t assume how I feel about you.”

  I reached up to rub my eyes clear, the wobbly vision disappearing as I looked up and saw that the expression of anger over his face had dispersed and a gentle, soft, and apologetic smile curved the corners of his lips.

  “You can call me a dick, or an ass, or a man-whore,” he continued, shaking his head at me. “Because I am them. I’ll admit it. But one thing I’m not is a liar. And when I said I like you and I want this to work, I meant it.”

  “You do?” I whispered, my head trying to break free of all the emotions swimming inside of my mind.

  Jax leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to both of my wet cheeks before leaning up again to look down at me, this time without the smile. He was serious. “I do.”

  “I’m sorry.” I took a deep, shaky breath and let it out in a slow sigh, my hands coming up to cover my face that I could feel was hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to doubt you, or anything like that. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s okay,” Jax chuckled, his grip unwinding from around my knees and dropping down to one side. “I’m actually relieved.”

  “Relieved?” I choked, surprised. I propped myself up onto one side to look at the man flopped on the bed next to me. “Why?”

  “I thought you weren’t jealous about me whatsoever.” He smirked. “But now I see that’s not true.”

  I couldn’t help it.

  I smacked him.

  “Ouch,” Jax whined. “What was that for?”

  “You’re making fun of my fragile ego, you ass,” I growled, sitting up. “Besides, what else am I supposed to think when you go from model-hot blonde chicks with big ass tits to, well, this.” I gestured down to myself in my oversized cotton pajamas, and wild brown hair scattered around my shoulders like a rat’s nest. “I’m not exactly Miss America, you know?”

  I jumped up from the bed at my confession, determined to let the remark pass, because even I knew how self-deprecating and weak it sounded. I wanted to wash my face and go to sleep for real this time. I was exhausted after that emotional rollercoaster.

  I didn’t make it far though.

  For the third time today, I felt hands come around my side, and it was barely a second before my head smacked against the back of the mattress, knocking the wind out of my chest. “Fuck,” I gasped. “Stop that!”

  “You’ve run away from me once, Ronnie Marsh,” Jax purred. “I’m not letting you run away again.”

  “Funny,” I quipped. “I distinctly remember you being the one that ran away from me, remember?”

  “Your memory must be fuzzy.” Jax stood tall and towering above my prone form on the bed, his hands going down to the floor to pick something up.

  I watched like a transfixed fly at those electric lights as his hands rose back above the bed and belt in hand.

  “W-what are you doing?” I stuttered, my eyes unable to decide if they wanted look at his face or his hands.

  “You wanted to know why I didn’t tie you up, right?”

  I gulped. “Yes?”

  He held the belt at the buckle, the metal swinging off his finger as he lifted it high into the air. The other end of the leather just grazed the bed sheets between my thighs as he dangled it above me.

  My mouth felt dry in anticipation or nervousness, I didn’t know. I jerked at the soft graze of it against my thigh and felt my breath jump from my lips.

  Jax smiled.

  I held my breath as it slid just above the cotton pajamas, the thin material not protecting me in the slightest from its tingling touch. It traveled across my hip, and even though it barely touched me, I felt pinned to the bed, a heavy, overwhelming weight holding me against the sheets.

  When it reached the valley of my breasts, I became all too aware of the exposed skin of my collarbone and breastbone. My breath quickened as it brushed the edge of the material, the anticipation of its feeling on my skin killing me slowly.

  “Jax,” I whimpered, unsure whether I wanted him to stop or keep going.

  It didn’t matter in the end.

  The buckle clattered next to my face, jerking me from my hold on the bed.

  “What?” I grumbled, turning my head to see the leather pile curled on the bed sheets. “Ja—”

  My stomach jerked at the soft sensation brushed across it. I gasped, my hips jerking upward.

  Jax’s hand splayed across my stomach, pinning me down. I lifted my head to see his dark hair drifting down around my waist where my shirt stopped and my pants began. His nose pressed against the line above my pants, and his fingers curled underneath their hem.

  “Jax,” I whispered, the need to lift my hips overwhelming and frustrating as I writhed under his delicate touches.

  His hands fisted the cloth, and he pressed a lingering kiss against my waist.

  A short raspy gasp jerked from my chest.

  My pants were gone in one sharp pull. Torn and thrown into the corner of the room in such a smooth singular motion that I couldn’t compute what had just happened to me. Only a cool breeze against my folds had my awareness piecing things together.

  “Here,” Jax murmured, drawing my attention back to his lithe body leaning over the edge of the bed where my feet dangled. He took one knee, the action so slow and soft that it didn’t make a sound as he cupped his hand under the ball of my foot and pulled it up. He pressed his lips to it in a reverent act of affection. His tongue slid over the soft skin, and I understood why the royalty loved getting their feet kissed, as it tingled the nerves under the skin.

  I jerked when Jax’s tongue brushed over the sensitive skin, and my eyes flashed to him. He didn’t look up, but he pulled away. His eyes looked at the small shiny scar marking the edge of my ankle. It was one of my more faded ones, but it held a painful memory like the rest.

  “This,” Jax murmured, soothing a rough finger around the edges. I felt Jax drift away from me. Somewhere deep, somewhere personal… somewhere inside of me. “Your foot caught in the stirrup when you fell,” he explained, dragging me into the past with him. The rain thundered in the back of my head, the phantom rain hammering down on my skin as I had looked at my ankle, knowing it felt and looked wrong. Ankles didn’t bend at that angle. “A clean break,” Jax explained. “Metal pins to fix it in place.”

  He leaned forward, and where I had expected a kiss, he did the complete opposite.

  I hissed at the sharp pain shoot up my leg. “I told you not to bite me!” I shoved my hand against his forehead to push him back.

  He reacted quick. My wrist was enclosed in a vice-like grip and instead of pushing him away, I was dragged to him. “This,” he growled, pulling my wrist to his face. He moved his fingers until the outside of my wrist was exposed to his lips. “Your hand was tangled in the reins when you fell, suspending you between the saddle and the floor. You were dragged until it popped out of its socket, leaving you with carpel tunnel.”

  He leaned in.

  “You better not….”

  He didn’t heed my warning and the sharp pain jerked down my arm. I hissed at the burn, the impression on his teeth throbbing on both of my extremities. The heat settled in my chest, the weight heavy and burning as my half-naked body rocked with anticipation.

  Fuck, what is this feeling?

  “This.” Jax’s voice snapped me to attention. My stomach quivered as he leaned down to my shoulder, not re
leasing my hand. Instead he pinned it back above my head, holding me still as his free hand reached to the buttons of my shirt. One by one, he popped them open all the way to the bottom, the material falling to the side, exposing my breasts. He paid them no attention as he pushed the collar aside, adjusting my arms until my shoulder was bare. Not a scar this time, but Jax leaned down to it and I knew he knew.

  “Dislocated shoulder from where you were dragged across the ground, unable to free yourself. Unable to let go.” He breathed. It felt like time slowed this time, and I knew what was coming. My breathing hitched at the feeling of his teeth indenting into my skin.

  “Jax,” I whined, my body unable to take the waiting.

  Like the delirious bite of a vampire, his teeth sunk into my skin, hard and sharp, and I almost cried out in pleasure.

  What is he doing to me?

  My core wiggled against the cotton sheets, pushed to the edge but not enough to tip over. The little nips of pain mixed with the emotional seeking sent my mind in circles and my body spiraling higher.

  “Ropes broke you, Ronnie,” Jax said, earning my attention once more. “I was hesitant because I didn’t want to bring those memories back for you. It was hell. I can see the scars, the injuries. But what I can’t see is what’s going on in here,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against my forehead before pulling back and looking down on me with the sweetest, gentlest, and most vulnerable gaze I’d ever seen on him.

  Even through the lust-filled haze clouding my mind, I had enough clarity to focus on him. Like the center of the storm, he stood out like a beacon of calm. My body deflated like a balloon full of hot air as I sunk into the sheets.

  “You were worried for me,” I whispered, waiting for his slow nod of confirmation. His thumb brushed against the scars of my wrist one last time before he released his hold and sat back, pulling me up along with him.

  My hair fell around my shoulders as I looked down into the floral sheets between us. “It wasn’t because you weren’t interested.”

  “Babe,” Jax purred, “there’s no way I wouldn’t be interested.”

  I looked up to find him scanning the sight of me before him, the cotton shirt being the only thing covering my arms while I sat naked and exposed in front of him. Hard nipples and damp thighs and all.