Jax

by Cristin Harber

  "Why?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "Maybe because he never was."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  And why she needed to spill family secrets, Seven had no idea. Maybe it was the rhythmic sway of Jax's fingers brushing along her back.

  "This is what you need to know." She shifted, wanting to change his attention from her back to the reason he was there. "Your two o'clock. That's who Hawke's betting on."

  "And you really think, with all the brass in this room, Hernán Suarez hasn't been tipped off that Mayhem might find a middleman to take up their distribution?"

  "Not beforehand. Too much money on the line. Too much of a power struggle that could take place." She looked around. "Now the second that it's decided? It'll get ugly, and they'll know what happened. But part of what Hawke's doing tonight is finding out what the needs are."

  "Meaning?"

  "If someone doesn't get it? Can't offer what we need? They'll still walk away happy. No one's leaving here unhappy."

  "Unless there's no deal," Jax countered.

  "Short of Hernán walking in tomorrow, I don't think that will be possible."

  Johnny walked across the room and eased onto the couch. He had a Mayhem slut puppy and a girl Seven had never seen before under his arms.

  "Nothing about that was in any folder, either," Jax said.

  "You Navy SEALs should do better research."

  "There's a geek who knows how to kill you a thousand different ways that wouldn't be thrilled to hear you say that."

  Seven smiled. "I speak geek, so maybe he'd let me die painlessly."

  "Do you?" Jax laughed. "What else don't I know about you?"

  She tilted her head to the asshole getting ready to let the slut puppy and the unknown suck his cock. Not that there weren't like antics happening around the room, but that was more Johnny sending her a message. "That's my ex."

  "Boyfriend?"

  "Mm-mm."

  Jax's eyes went wide. "Husband?"

  She wriggled her shoulders. "And what do I get for such a lovely designation? Not much. Other than watching the occasional blow job and knowing when he's into it or about to pass out."

  "I don't get this… situation at all."

  "We grew up together. We're actually friends. More like brother and sister, if that doesn't sound weird. But obviously not."

  Jax side-eyed her. "Obviously…"

  "It was assumed we would get married. I was my dad's daughter. He's presumed to take over Mayhem one day. The second we became legal, they pranced us to the courthouse."

  Jax rolled his lips together.

  "Oh, come on. Nothing to say?"

  He burst out laughing. "No."

  She pushed his chest. "Bull."

  "How romantic?"

  Seven leaned close, letting her lips linger near his. "It took me a while to learn about romance."

  Jax let his lips touch hers. Amid the chaos and crudeness, the joints and the drinks, his kiss was sweet and real. Sober, even if she tasted the hint of beer. Cool, wet lips, and the tease of his hot tongue pushed past her teeth and toyed with the tongue stud. Seven quietly moaned into the kiss, falling away from this world and the smoky haze to where she could imagine it was just them.

  Jax drew back. "Seven?"

  "Hm?"

  His dark eyes dropped a shade past black. "I'm not romantic."

  Cold fucking shower, Jax. "Trust me." How had she spun herself into a situation with him? "You've never given me a chance to be confused about that."

  Lines furrowed across his brow.

  "But I think we… mesh well." She arched an eyebrow. No need to pretend they didn't have spectacular sex. "And we both have an end game here."

  "We do." Though the distance in his voice wasn't convincing.

  "I do." She nodded, closing her face to his. "I hate drugs. Hate them so much I'll sit on your lap, across from my ex getting a BJ, and whisper like we're talking sweet nothings."

  "You want sweet nothings?"

  "You don't do romance. Please don't try something that might kill you while surrounded by a room of men who have likely killed people. The headache that will go into establishing natural causes and all of their alibis?" She shook her head. "You're not worth that much trouble."

  "I'm going to start a tally of every time you've screamed my name and show it to you when you say shit like that."

  "I don't scream."

  "Princess, you scream."

  She flushed, and his fingers trailed up her spine.

  "Now what?" Jax asked.

  Seven let her eyes move around the room. Tex watched her and Jax, not hiding his study of Jax. Tex had never been that protective of her, so his watchful eye meant their back-and-forth was displaying the right show to the room. "I'm not sure, but Mayhem's got an eye on us." She wiggled her bottom and curled into Jax's side.

  His hand moved from her back to her side, ducking under the leather shirt and letting his hand run over her abdomen. "Meaning?"

  "I'm here because I'm supposed to be, and you're not here to work."

  He flexed his fingers into her stomach. "Not at all."

  "Tex has got us under his rotation." She ducked her lips to his neck and gave a quick lick, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne and the very familiar, very masculine way Jax naturally smelled. The salty taste of his skin and the earthy, alpha smell that she could close her eyes and imagine was enough to make her hungry for him.

  Seven kissed up the tendons in his neck, alternating light brushes of her lips and tongue with sucking carefully. She groaned quietly as he shifted, his hips moving just enough for her to know he liked what she was doing. His possessive hand smoothed over her belly, hidden from the world. Reaching his earlobe, she whispered, "I like how your hand feels."

  His jaw flexed against her cheek, and he took a deep breath, expanding his massive chest as she leaned on him.

  "I like my lips on you," she continued.

  "Good."

  "I like that I'm supposed to be playing. But I'm really glad you're into this as much as me."

  He groaned. "Yeah. Me too."

  It was that time of night, that part in a Mayhem party when nothing really mattered and everyone was blitzed… except them. She didn't really drink, so maybe the beer had gone to her head. The groan was what did her in as Seven twisted on his lap, straddling Jax in her short skirt and boots and wrapping her arms around him.

  His erection was hardening under her lap as she moved against him. The room was hazy, and the music's bass thumped low. It wrapped its methodical beat around the smoky air as people who were too loud partied like the criminal kings who couldn't be stopped. But the chaos had nothing on her and Jax. In his arms, it was just them.

  Jax kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth without a second guess. He wasn't comfortable with anyone there, that she knew, but he was with her… she hoped.

  God, if sex could be a kiss…

  She melted into him as his tongue teased hers. He stroked her mouth open, each kiss stringing her into a lust-drunk oblivion, where she could feel his hands in places he hadn't touched her yet. Her imagination was as wicked as his tongue, and the hotter and harder he kissed her, the better her vivid daydreams became.

  Jax drew back, lingering. Their noses, their cheeks, they still touched. Her breaths came too fast, and her mind spun in a thousand directions—cold fingers on her shoulder shattered the buzz, and she twisted, licking her lips and glaring at Tex. "Yeah, you need something?"

  "Work and play with this one?" Tex asked Jax.

  "Seemed like a good idea."

  "Are you fucking kidding me, Tex?" Seven shot back.

  He didn't answer, eyeing them both. "He's on our side. Don't screw this up, Seven."

  "He's not on any side, and since when do you care who I screw?"

  Tex rolled his bottom lip into his mouth then ran his hand over his face. "Since it might interfere with club business."

  "Do we need to go talk?" Jax offe
red casually, knowing Tex was high in the Mayhem hierarchy. "You want me to step out? She's pussy. I'm a contractor. She has club history. I"—Jax shook his head, playing his role to a tee—"don't."

  Tex mulled the offer, and it was exactly what he needed to hear from Jax. Maybe Titan did have good recon on Mayhem.

  "Nah." He lifted his beer bottle to them. "Enjoy yourself this evening."

  Seven came back to Jax, and he squeezed her ass, pulling her closer.

  "You have some info on them," she whispered against his lips.

  Jax bit her bottom one. "You bet your sweet ass we do."

  She kissed him slowly, playing with her tongue stud, teasing him in the way that seemed to get him to react most. "And I lied to Mayhem. First time in my life."

  Jax made a deep sound as she pulled away, flexing his grip on her ass again. "Guess we trust each other?"

  "Do we?"

  "What's that mean?"

  "Navy SEAL. Titan. And… what else? Who are you? Besides a contractor and a good lay. You've seen my world. What about yours?"

  Jax's muscles tightened. His unreadable face hardened, and the warmth that had radiated from the grip around her somehow cooled without moving. "That's it. All work, no play."

  They were playing now, though… "Ever?"

  "Never."

  "Never ever?"

  "Yeah, Seven. Never ever."

  "Jeez." She inched back, faking the excuse of drinking her beer. They were hot, cold, hot, and now back to cold.

  Jax took that same moment to do the same, draining the whole damn thing.

  "I wasn't trying to pry."

  "It's fine."

  Yikes. Clearly, it wasn't fine.

  "Hi there." One of Mayhem's girls appeared the second her ears heard an empty beer bottle touch the table, and she handed Jax a fresh beer.

  Gruffly, he nodded as the girl scurried away.

  "Forget what I said, Jax, and we'll call it almost-trust." All she wanted was for him to lighten up. "Pseudo-trust." Seven leaned back to his cheek and kissed him. "Come on. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "Don't worry about it. I just…"

  "Don't explain. I'm keeping my own secrets too. Big ones. Big, manly, Mayhem, Titan-sized secrets."

  He chuckled.

  "Thank the Lord." She threw her arms in the air as if she were praising the gospel at church. Then she clinked her beer bottle against his. "Jax is back."

  Seven didn't have a big secret, but if it meant lying to bring him back to a better place, then she would. As long as he didn't check up on her badass BS, because if Jax asked anyone, they would say Seven was an open, boring book. "I'm glad you laughed. Let's have a couple drinks and celebrate the almosts in life."

  A thousand things seemed to cross his face when she offered that, but he finally took his bottle and knocked it against hers. "To the almosts. To forgetting and moving on."

  "Cheers." Her smile was fake because, for a moment, this had almost felt real, but it was a job for both of them, and they would forget and move on.

  Hell. It wasn't even an almost.

  It wasn't even real.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The girl who had been refilling Jax's beers reappeared, but this time she had liquor bottles in hand and was flirting. She held up a bottle of vodka and a darker one of bourbon. "White or red?"

  "Cute." Seven laughed warily, but liquor wasn't in her plans tonight. "I'm good. Jax?"

  "He's thirsty. I know these things." The liquor girl crawled onto the couch next to them, pitching both bottles forward as though she were ready to pour them into his mouth. "Open up, good lookin'."

  His body shook with the silent rumble of his laughter, and Seven noticed that he didn't leer and look like so many did when leather-clad beauties crawled toward them with liquor.

  "Come on, sweet cakes."

  Seven chuckled to herself, not the only one who noticed how he didn't flirt with her.

  "What's tall, dark, and handsome's name?"

  "Jax." His lack of flirting served only to make her inch forward. "What's yours?"

  "What do you want it to be?"

  He shook his head. "What the fuck are parents thinking these days? I bet you never find a key chain with your name on it."

  Seven choked on a laugh.

  "Is he serious?" Her forehead wrinkled in pissed-off confusion. "It's Grace. Or Gracie. Or whatever you want to call me."

  His eyebrows arched. "Like 'What Do You Want It To Be'?"

  "Ignore him," Seven recommended.

  Grace kneeled back on her heels and rested both bottles on her thighs, pouting. "They say I don't do my job unless I keep the guests happy."

  "Trust me. I'm happy." Jax pointed to Seven's hair. "Who can't be happy around this bubble of sunshine? Poof of cotton candy?"

  Seven exchanged glances with Grace. "I think I'm his first pink-haired girl."

  Jax snorted.

  Grace giggled. "I can't tell if he's funny or grumpy."

  "Welcome to the club."

  "You two think you're cute, don't you?"

  "No, no, not with that sourpuss face." Grace inched closer to them on the couch.

  "I do," Seven volunteered. "All kinds of cute."

  Jax squeezed Seven's side. "You're something."

  Ticklish, she moved from his hands but found herself close to his ear. "Come on now, sourpuss. You're here to fit in, aren't you?" Her lips lingered, and she liked the way he smelled clean and masculine in a room packed with liquor and smoke. Seven curled against his hard torso as his hand possessively settled on her naked back.

  "Ready now?" Grace tried again. "Seven, tell him my job's to make him happy and drunk."

  Seven twisted and pressed her fingers to his chin. "Grace's job is to make you happy—"

  "Already told you. You have that covered."

  Suddenly scared the night would end and not wanting to feel as strongly as she did for the man who told her he couldn't commit, Seven turned to Grace. "I'll go first. That's the best I can do."

  Jax grumbled as Seven tilted her head. Bourbon hit her tongue, overflowing into her mouth, and slipped down her throat. The burn was a wildfire, so sweet and searing that Seven's eyes shut. It overtook her senses and woke her nerves, spiraling to the tips of her fingers and the depth of her pussy.

  Drips of liquor slipped to her chin and neck as she closed her mouth and swallowed, and the liquor girl leaned close and licked the bourbon trail from her skin.

  Jax tightened his hold, and Seven opened her eyes, locking her bourbon-burned gaze on the handsome man she wanted to be with anywhere. A Mayhem party. Colombia. Iowa. Wherever. The afterburn of a shot always had clarity, and this one told her she was where she needed to be.

  Grace angled the bottle. "Your turn, muscles."

  He simply opened his mouth, tilting his head back a few degrees, and she poured the liquor down his throat. But Jax didn't close his eyes. He kept his gaze on Seven until he nodded and Grace ended the flow. Then he shut his lips and swallowed.

  "No one says no to bourbon." Grace faded away, and Seven didn't care if she stayed or not.

  Kissing the corner of Jax's mouth, she followed the trail of his bottom lip, licking along the line, brushing her mouth against his chin and back to the fullness of his kiss. She wrapped an arm around his neck, angling to kiss him better. Her tongue probed against his, hot and wet. He tasted of bourbon and a night that was just getting started—

  The crackling sound of a sparkler in the hotel room pulled them apart, and Jax protectively pulled her to his side. Mood effectively killed, though the liquor hadn't gone away because of morons and their pyrotechnics.

  She pulled back. "How much longer do we stay?"

  Jax eyed the room. "Until we see everything worth seeing."

  Seven sighed. That could go on all night, no telling. But, bonus, Grace had left the bourbon bottle on the couch. "Good to know I have my secret weapon."

  "What's that, princess?"


  She pointed him toward the bottle left for them. "The key to switching your frown upside down is liquor with a little burn and kick."

  "Not true. But since it's here…" Jax picked up the bottle, tilted Seven's head back with the tip of his fingers, and poured alcohol into her mouth. Then he did the same for himself. The bourbon coursed down her throat as she savored the buzz. Seven didn't drink often and rarely was it liquor, but perhaps it was time for the "when in Vegas" attitude. She couldn't be safer than surrounded by Mayhem and Titan. No kids. No responsibility.

  She opened her eyes, and Jax's eyes were tight at the corners. "What?"

  He put the bottle down and roughly dragged a needy hand up until he squeezed the nape of her neck then threaded his fingers roughly into her hair. Jax angled her mouth against his. He was hungry and heavenly, seductive and sensitive, finally leaving her breathless and uncaring who saw how this man could make her pant.

  "I needed to check something." His dark eyes were nearly black, and the roughness in his voice nearly scorched her leather skirt away.

  "What are you talking about, Jax?"

  "It's not the liquor."

  Her heart started to race, desperately trying to keep pace with the lust that was steamrolling through her veins. "I'm sorry?"

  "I tried the liquor. Then I tried you."

  "Jax…" Her whisper sounded whiskey-scratched, and she couldn't breathe for wanting to feel the high of him and her mixed together—words, touches, kisses. Everything.

  "You make me feel right."

  Seven hooked her other wrist behind his neck, locking her fingers together, and inched forward until she pressed her forehead to his. The longest storm of seconds passed. They didn't blink. The alcohol in her blood could've made her dizzy, but it only made Mayhem and friends fade away. Her pink hair enclosed them in a haven. "Don't look now." She licked her lips. "But…"

  "But?"

  "You are so romantic."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  If one more Mayhem party hostess made an offer to Jax, he was calling the night short. This hotel suite was like a motorcycle club's version of a 1960s Playboy Club, complete with cigarette girls. Except the offerings included joints in addition to a cigarette or shot. His head swam with more liquor than he'd wanted, but Seven had been right. He would've stood out if he hadn't drunk.