Jax

by Cristin Harber

  Poof. The front desk clerk's unfazed expression lit. "You have a gift bag waiting for you."

  Oh, brother. "Terrific." Only Victoria would do something sweet but sinister under the guise of being her best friend, especially something that would cause this man to morph from seen-it-all to semi-interested in who received the bag. "I'm sure it's… exciting."

  From the look on his face, he'd already peeked inside, and Victoria definitely had not sent a good book to read and relax with by the pool. "One moment." The lightning speed whirl-away-and-back revealed a bag overflowing with tissue paper. "Ms. Blackburn, your Welcome to Las Vegas Explosion of Fun bag."

  Explosion. Of. Fun. "Thanks." He waited, unmoving, watching the bag, not her. "I'll open it later."

  "Oh, hmm." And then his face looked as if his puppy had died.

  Really? Really! Was that necessary?

  And another disappointed sigh.

  "Or I can just take a quick…"

  He was bright eyes and fun again. For the love of all that is… Seven pursed her lips and prayed there was a map of Vegas inside, perhaps tickets to a show. She dug through the tissue paper, which already made her skin crawl as he pretended to go through the motions of not watching as he typed on his keyboard. There was an envelope and—oh no, Victoria didn't—Seven clenched the bag shut, cheeks pink.

  "Can I have your driver's license?" The clerk peered down like an angel knowing about her bag of dirty fun.

  "Yes. Of course." Seven tried to shove the gift bag aside and reach for her wallet, but her purse tipped off the rollaboard suitcase. Origami creations spilled out.

  Seven's eyes sank shut, blaming what had to be an industrial-sized, hair-matching, bright-pink bottle of lube for her distracted spill. But the sound of helpful hands scooping up her origami tore her back to reality.

  How cool.

  These are great.

  What a talent.

  She dropped down, fishing them back from curious hands. "Thanks. I've got it." The idea of another round of crumpled cardstock coupled with a bag of lube and more might be too much to handle at that second. "Thanks so much. Something I've always done."

  Flustered but with everything back in her oversized purse so nothing would be crushed, she popped back up to the preening clerk.

  "Two cards, I presume?"

  "Nope." What else was in the bag? Champagne? Confetti-packaged condoms? Her cheeks heated to a nuclear level of embarrassment. "Just one."

  "Really?" The desk clerk took a second too long to ponder why that was, and Seven thought how she might kill Victoria. "However that works best for you."

  "Alone. I work best alone." Then she plotted Victoria's slow demise, which would happen as soon as she tossed the gift bag in the trash can, where no one else could sneak a quick glance.

  ###

  The lights were too bright. The smoke too thick. Vegas wasn't the place he wanted to be, mostly because Jax wanted to be alone. He didn't like the idea of traveling as a motorcycle club drug negotiator. Hell, he didn't like how a gang was called a club, and he didn't like his boss breathing down his neck, telling him to haul ass to Nevada.

  But there he was. Jared would be there soon enough. Sugar, his boss's wife, would probably be in tow, and he would be a third wheel. Jax was very uncomfortable when it came down to hanging out with couples. They did their couply crap, and Jax had to put up with it.

  He strode into the hotel that had no idea it'd been taken over by a glut of criminals. He almost wanted to tell them, but what did the hotel care? They just wanted money, and it was Vegas. Maybe everyone was a criminal.

  But the who's who of cocaine distribution all staying under one roof was interesting.

  Bright-pink hair caught the corner of his eye, and he came to a stop. This was Vegas. He'd passed a hundred girls with hair in a dozen shades of pink. None had brought him to a standstill the way Seven did, and she was across the lobby in a skirt that was short enough to make him want to stare and seemed soft enough to sway with her hips with her every step.

  The space between them was immense. People milled. The water in several fountains danced to music as children jumped and tossed coins. But there she was next to Johnny Miller, the asshole who was the sole reason the last deal hadn't gone through and why they'd had to come back out today.

  Jax watched them from afar, almost embarrassed at how he watched. They were standing together. Familiar. Friendly. Yet not. Very Seven—combative and caring. They weren't flirting, but they were… smiling and comfortable.

  A tension built in his shoulders and spread into his back. The dull ache slowed his thoughts and made him feel as if he weighed double his mass, just from a look at something—someone—he already had.

  He was jealous.

  It was absurd to admit, but still, it remained true. At that moment, he wanted to step into Johnny's boots and feel Seven cast her smile on him. The woman was magical.

  "Jax." Jared Weston stepped next to him then followed his gaze as Jax reeled himself back to the real world. "What is it with you two?"

  "No idea."

  "Whatever it is, use it to our advantage. Parker picked up chatter."

  If Titan's IT guy had learned anything, it was sure to be gold. "What'd he hear?"

  "Hawke is having an informal meeting of the minds. Get invited."

  "Sounds like my kind of fun." He smirked at the idea of finagling an invite to hang with Mayhem, but honestly, his blood pumped at the thought that he would be closer to Seven, closer to the smile that she put on his lips and the feeling of how she made the cloud hanging over him part for the sun, even if it was for a few minutes. "I'll be sure to turn a blind eye to everything I see."

  ###

  The only thing that made Jax feel normal was the .40 caliber Glock at the small of his back and the snub-nose .38 revolver in his ankle holster. When they had attended the cartel meeting in Colombia, he'd been unarmed and might as well have been naked.

  But now with Jared's orders to secure an invitation burning in the back of his brain, Jax tried to figure the best way to do that. Be up front? Or sweet-talk Seven into inviting him along? If it were that easy and Mayhem wanted Titan there, Hawke would've invited him or Jared. So this was on the informal side. Jax needed Seven to bring him, and he needed it to look as though he was there with Seven, not for work.

  That was easy enough. The only question was whether to loop Seven in or not.

  It would be a game-time decision, and now was his chance. Jax couldn't say he wasn't excited to see her. His blood ran hotter as he paced across the hotel lobby toward where he'd last seen the wild-haired beauty.

  "Hey, you."

  Seven's voice caught him by surprise. "How does anyone with neon hair blend in?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know. Blame Vegas?"

  "Guess so." Jax fell into stride with her. "Where are you going?"

  "Hotel bar. What about you? When'd you get in?"

  "Little bit ago."

  Her shoulder brushed his, and when she wasn't in high heels, it was noticeable how much smaller she was.

  She laughed. "What are you looking at?"

  "Nothing. I never noticed you'd fit in my pocket."

  "Ha!" She tilted her head back, and a tiny silver chain caught his eye. "Have you been drinking?"

  "Not yet."

  Did everything revolve around drinking with her? The last times he'd seen her had been a wedding reception, a bar, then another bar. Not his thing, but it sounded very MC-like. Drunk motorcycle motherfuckers.

  They pushed their way through the crowd and into the bar, where there were day drinkers galore. Very Vegas. Some asshole bumped into him, and Jax ground his molars down in an effort not to bump the guy a few dozen feet away. Finally, he and Seven made it to the bar.

  "What'd you want, babe?"

  She searched over his head. "I don't know? Water?"

  Jax grumbled but laughed. "You know there's a perfectly decent place where I don't have to fend fuckers off t
o get water, right?"

  "Are you going to say your hotel room?"

  He lifted his eyebrows. "No, I wasn't. But since you're suggesting…"

  She laughed. "I wasn't."

  "Sounded like a good idea to me."

  Seven sidestepped closer as an asshole edged in behind her. "Sorry."

  Jax put his arm around her waist. "You're fine." But he glared at the other guy, holding back a fierce you're fucking not. "You just want a water? Water and…? What?"

  "How about a coke?"

  "Okay. We'll do that." He faced the bar and gave himself a solid self-check for thinking all she wanted to do was drink.

  Seven lurched away. "Hey—oh. Hey."

  Jax spun to see Johnny. Jesus fucking Christ. This was not the dude he wanted to see now, and if there was any reason in the world that Seven had been leaning against him and abruptly wasn't anymore, he really didn't need that. Jax grated his teeth before he smiled. "What's up, man?"

  "Jax," Johnny said as hello.

  Seven stood between them, and there was a standoff that he didn't know if she was aware of, but that Jax was now acutely clued in to. If Johnny wanted her, that was going to be his own fucking problem. But at the same time, Jax didn't need to drag her good name through the mud when Mayhem all seemed to think of her as their little sister.

  Jax wanted Parker to give him a background on Seven, but that would be awkward to ask for. A personal history on Johnny, maybe not so much.

  Either way, he needed to know because his only job right now was securing an invite to the meeting tonight, and that was done one way—by praying upon the spark between him and her.

  "When'd you get here?" Johnny inched forward, stepping too close to Jax for his liking.

  "Not long ago." He worked his jaw. "You got a problem?"

  Johnny's head shook slowly. "Not if you don't."

  "Good. I'd hate for more problems to pop up between us."

  Johnny put an arm around Seven. "I did realize we had any issues."

  Right, because the clusterfuck in South America wasn't soundly put on Johnny's shoulders. But Jax tried to stay chill. Mayhem was a client, just like the DOJ or the CIA. Hell, they were all in bed together, knowing the little he knew about gangs and the far too much he knew about Uncle Sam.

  "Excuse me. I'm not your armrest." Seven ducked from under Johnny's shoulder and leaned on the bar.

  On top of Johnny screwing up what should've been an easy job, Jax didn't like the dynamic between him and Seven. Familiarity or not, that move right there was like Johnny pissing on a spot he wanted to claim. Seven seemed to be cognizant, and Jax didn't want some alpha-dog brawl over a bone, but fucking hell. "Bogotá didn't go as planned. If this went smoothly, I'd be cool with that."

  "If this weekend goes smoothly, it's not because you're here." Johnny smirked, and Jax wanted to punch his face in.

  He did one better. He put his arm around Seven. If she dared shove him away, they would get into a fight, and that would make for great sex, preferably against a wall. If she didn't, then sides were drawn, and Johnny had just gotten a big fuck you.

  Jax's heart punched in his chest, waiting one second, then two. What would she do?

  Seven leaned into his side. "You two are giving me a migraine."

  Good girl. God damn, good girl. He would make sure there would be many, many good things coming her way for that, even if she had no idea the line he'd just walked and the risk he'd just taken by throwing his arm over her.

  The corner of Johnny's eyes pinched, but he didn't respond to her. "I don't know why Titan brought you, anyway."

  "Because we needed someone neutral," Seven chided him.

  "We?" He shook his head. "All this we shit, and it's like—"

  "Don't get into it with me here, sweetheart."

  "Sweetheart," Johnny tossed back.

  Jax noticed the softness leave Seven, but she flipped around and pressed against the bar, leaving him with Johnny.

  "Two cokes, please," Seven ordered and was served quickly.

  Johnny took an aggressive step forward. His brows furrowed, and the lines under his eyes deepened. "Careful with her."

  "Jesus Christ, man. You're the one being a dick."

  She turned with the drinks and handed one to Jax.

  He took the glass. "Thanks."

  Johnny nudged his head. "This guy's an asshole."

  Seven sighed. "Is this where I bring out the takes-one-to-know-one argument that we used in sixth grade?" Then her pierced brow arched. "Because I'm ready."

  Jax took a sip of his drink and stretched over her head, placing it on the bar.

  She curled next to his side, toying with the tip of her straw. "Could you put mine down too?"

  He did, and she stepped back to his side, casually resting a hand on his stomach.

  The move was casual but intimate. It was a loud message to Johnny, and Jax gave no fucks.

  Heat from her palm radiated. The innocent touch bled into his bloodstream. It flooded his mind, heightening his longing to strip her naked and run his hands over her. Not just because she was the sexiest thing he'd touched and tasted in as long as he could remember, but because she was well schooled in the art of shade. That made her fun, smart, and entertaining.

  He could go on but wanted to pay attention as her fingers splayed. She dragged the tips of her nails down an inch before letting her hand fall.

  Jax swallowed hard. The not-so-innocent clawing had woken up each nerve ending along his abdomen. The undercover move reminded him of the way her fingers threaded into his hair, the way her moans fell without abandon with each thrust into her body.

  Whatever Seven and Johnny were bantering back and forth about had nothing to do with him.

  "Jax is hanging with me tonight. Deal with it."

  Or maybe it did. Jax inhaled, deeply, corralling his thoughts. He didn't need to sport wood in a crowded bar. "What's up?"

  Johnny's angry eyes weren't impressed, and Jax ran a possessive hand over Seven's skin.

  "I'm down with whatever," he added, realizing that he'd been lost in thoughts of her naked instead of angling for the meet tonight, which was his goal. Mission accomplished.

  She peered up at him, lust-darkened eyes wide and wanting the same thing he did—to be alone.

  But it didn't feel right pursuing her when there was an ulterior motive. Not that he'd done a damn thing wrong, and his intentions were never going to get him a sainthood.

  "I'm out of here." Johnny turned around. "Off to find someone actually drinking at a bar."

  "Have fun," Seven called while rolling her eyes.

  "What's that between you two?" Jax asked.

  Seven reached for her soda. "Where should I begin?"

  It was better not to know. "Never mind. You don't have to explain."

  Her lips wrapped around the straw, but she didn't drink. He couldn't read her expression, but maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. Hell, he didn't know. "I'll be your piece of meat to ward off unwanted attention."

  Her tongue stud slipped out and ran along her lip for a second. Then Seven took a long sip. "Do you care how or why I'm going to use you, sweetheart?"

  "Nope." He chuckled, grateful that whatever he'd said to sour her before had disappeared in the busy crowd. And why had he thought it was just him playing a game? It wasn't as though she would be upset because he didn't give her the opportunity to detail her past. That wasn't them. She didn't want that. Neither of them did. "You know what's my favorite thing about you?"

  "If you say my ability to ignore male attention, I'm going to be deeply disappointed in your creativity."

  He gave a half-smile and a headshake and somehow knew that she didn't do the hair and her various accessories for others or attention. She dug how it turned out.

  "Tell me," Seven whispered, but he heard her voice above every loud, crass noise in the place.

  "You're no saint." Even if she sometimes sounded like an angel.

  Her pi
nk lips pursed into an unexpected smile. "Was it the piercings or the hair that gave me away?"

  God… those piercings. All of them. He wanted the one on her tongue against his cock and the bars through her nipples playing in his mouth. He wanted to feel her in so many ways just to see how he could get her to sing.

  "Let's get out of here." He put his hands on her sides, slid them slowly to her ass, and squeezed. Having a backside that filled his hands, that he could grip, dig his hands into, made his blood burn hot. That was the kind of ass Jax liked. A woman with curves. One who he could kiss up the backs of her legs, sink his teeth into her cheeks, then kiss his way up her back. "You ready?"

  "I'm trying to stay in the lobby, bar—ya know, around—and keep an eye on who's here. For tonight."

  "Right. Tonight?"

  "I mentioned you were coming. You wanted to come with, I assume?"

  He tilted his head to the side. "Yeah. I appreciate the invite."

  "It's private. A few folks getting together before the big event tomorrow."

  His jaw flexed as he hummed a non-answer. "Are you bringing me?"

  "You already knew about tonight?" Her eyes accused him of what they both already seemed to know. "Were you hoping that if we hung out last night, maybe you'd get special access to whatever you wanted? Or just an invite to spend the night again?"

  He hesitated. The safe play was to deny he knew. She would never know Titan had access to Mayhem's chatter. But there was the right thing to do by her. "Last night had nothing to do with this weekend, and I hoped to spend time with you before I knew there was a meetup. That I want access to."

  She stared for what felt like decades. "Access and time?"

  He shook his head. "Don't be like that."

  "Like what?"

  "Like you don't know who I am despite whatever roles we're both playing in Vegas."

  Seven ran her tongue along her lip. "Give me more than that."

  "You want, what? A definition? An agenda? For when? When we're with everyone or when I have you to myself?"

  Her face flushed. "Did you have one?"