Dangerous Curves

by James, Marysol

  “You got a plane to catch or something, doll?”

  “I need to get home, Jax… can you call a taxi for me? Please? I need to… oh, God.”

  He studied her face, saw that she was well and truly seconds away from full-on losing her shit. Whatever it was, it was serious.

  “Where do you live?’ he asked.

  “Mariposa Street.”

  Jax paused. “Lincoln Park?”

  “Yeah.”

  Shit. That’s a bad fucking neighborhood. Surprising that she’s from that side of town.

  “So, can you please call me a taxi? I need to –”

  “Hey, calm down, OK? I’ll drive you.”

  The wave of relief that washed across her face was amazing. “Yeah?”

  “Sure. Come on.”

  He led her over to his bike, fished the keys out of his jeans pocket. She paused, looking uncertain.

  “Never been on a bike before?” Jax said.

  “N – no.” She looked at her watch again and that seemed to stiffen her resolve. “First time for everything, I suppose.”

  “I need to get you a helmet. Two minutes.”

  “OK.” She really wanted to tell him that she didn’t have two minutes, but safety first, she supposed.

  To his credit, he was back in less than a minute, and had both their helmets strapped on thirty seconds after that. He got on the bike and started it up, revving it a few times. She just stood there, terrified at the thought of getting on a motorcycle, but more terrified of what would happen if she wasn’t home in twenty-eight minutes.

  Jax braced the weight of the bike on one strong leg and extended his hand to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded, took his hand, let him help her straddle the bike. She grappled for something to hold on to, and Jax reached around behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest.

  “Hold on to me, Red.” He turned a bit and grinned at her. “Don’t want to lose you when we take off, right?”

  She shook her head, now officially totally freaked out.

  Jax revved the bike one last time, then hit the gas. They peeled out and Sarah tightened her arms around him even more, not caring if she was cutting off his air, so long as she didn’t tumble backwards off the damn bike. She felt herself sliding on the curves in the road and acting purely on instinct, she pressed her thighs against his legs, holding herself in place.

  Jax loved every second of it. After having spent the whole night longing to touch her even just a little bit, here he had her completely wrapped around him. Her gorgeous breasts were pressed up against his back, her hands were clutching his muscular chest, he was gripped between her curved thighs. His cock hardened and he almost groaned at how good it felt for her to be right up on him like this.

  Sarah could practically hear the minutes ticking away in her head, but she wasn’t about to let go of Jax to lift her hand and check her watch again. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. The early Sunday morning traffic was almost non-existent, and Jax seemed to know every shortcut in Denver, so they were actually making great time. She was sure she was going to get back home to him in time, and she felt some of the tension leave her body. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.

  It suddenly occurred to her where she was, and with whom. She was on a motorcycle, under a perfect, blue June sky, with the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. Her hands were clutched tight on that broad chest, the curves of his muscles smooth and defined under her fingertips. Her body was pushed up against that strong back, his wide shoulders loomed over her. Between her legs and arms she cradled over two hundred pounds of hot, hard man. Unable to help herself, she lowered her helmeted head to his back and just rested it there, breathing him in: he smelled of something fresh and clean – something citrusy – and it was mixed with a darker, dirtier scent. Musk, cigarettes, whiskey. Pure man.

  Oh, my God. He is just so sexy. Good Lord, girl. Relax and enjoy the ride.

  Jax felt her bury her sweet face in his back, felt her body go soft against his, and the hope that he’d get her number was revived. He couldn’t explain even to himself why he wanted – no, needed – to see Sarah again after this morning, but he just knew that he did.

  Too soon for both of them, Jax pulled up in front of Sarah’s place. He took a good look at it, and it was about what he’d expected: seriously run-down, boarded-up windows, across from a vacant lot. He glanced over, saw the syringes and condoms scattered around the lot and he winced.

  Not a nice place, not at all. How the hell does she even fucking survive out here?

  Sarah clambered off the back of the bike and looked at her watch right away. Holy God, three minutes. I can still make it. It’ll be OK.

  Jax swung his long leg over the bike and undid Sarah’s helmet, his fingers lingering on her soft skin a bit. “Sarah…”

  “Thanks, Jax,” she said. “It was nice to meet you… thank Mac for me again, would you? And I’ll arrange for my car to get towed from Curves over the next few days, OK?” She turned to go to the house.

  “Wait, Red,” he said. “Can I just get –”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, already walking away from him. “I’m really sorry. But I’ve got to go. I have less than three minutes now.”

  “For what?” he asked, totally baffled. “What happens in less than three minutes?”

  She shook her head, headed up the stairs to the front porch. She dug her house keys out of her purse and jammed them in the lock. She opened the door, stepped in to the house, turned to give him one last look.

  Jax was standing there, so huge and handsome in the morning light, and all she wanted was to get back on the bike, have him drive her away from her whole damn life. Just for one day; just for today. But that wasn’t an option: she knew that he was already awake upstairs, waiting for the clock to click to precisely eight-oh-oh. Then he’d be up and in the kitchen, and she had to have his breakfast ready. If she didn’t, there could be serious repercussions, and not a single one of them was good.

  This is your life, Sarah. Your life isn’t out there… not beyond one short ride that felt like pure freedom.

  She raised her hand to him, and he returned the wave. Then the door shut, and she was gone.

  Jax stood next to his bike, staring at the closed door, wondering just who or what was in that house that was so fucking important. Or frightening.

  **

  Sarah hurried in to the kitchen, her hands shaking. It was Sunday, so that meant it was Cocoa Puffs day, with a side of sliced bananas and a glass of apple juice. She grabbed the box of cereal and poured it exactly to the yellow line in the blue bowl, poured the milk in to the matching blue milk jug. The banana was sliced in to seven pieces, arranged in the shape of a fan on the blue plate. She set the food on the table in the required placement and looked at her watch again.

  One minute. Holy hell, I’m going to make it.

  She threw herself at the fridge, located the apple juice in the door. She scrambled to find the glass with the sun on it – the sun glass for Sunday – and poured exactly to the fourth sun ray. She set the juice at the top right of the plate – at precisely two o’clock – and then stood back, making sure that all was OK.

  Calm down, Sarah. You did it.

  Her knees sagged under her now and she leaned on the counter. She took a deep breath, and then she heard him behind her.

  Sarah turned, and there he was: huge, hulking, his thick hair tousled. He was staring at the floor, shifting his weight from foot to foot, back and forth, back and forth. His hands clenched and unclenched, and he was whispering something under his breath.

  She brushed her hair down and over her face to cover the bandage on her forehead and the worst of the bruising on her cheek. Not that it would hide much, of course, since the man knew things about her without Sarah uttering a single word. But still – it
made her feel better to cover it up, for some reason.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said softly, and was relieved that her voice came out normal and even. “Come on and sit down. Breakfast is ready.”

  Chapter Four

  Jax sat at the bar drinking a cup of black coffee and scowling around the near-empty room. He was in a foul mood, and he had been ever since he’d dropped Sarah off the morning before. And what made his mood even worse was that he just couldn’t figure out why the hell he was in such a bad mood to begin with.

  OK, Sarah had thrown his whole state of existence in to a tailspin. That much was clear. He’d hit on her and she’d turned him down; he’d asked her to stay for coffee and she’d run out of the crash room; he’d tried to get her number and she’d shut a door in his face. But that was her right, wasn’t it? If she didn’t find him attractive or whatever, then why was he so irritated about it? Why was he so hung up on this one woman when he had dozens of others who’d give him what he wanted?

  Another question that had been rolling through his brain since the morning before: was this maybe just all about his fucking monster ego? Did Jax want her because she didn’t want him? Was this all about finally getting her to submit and surrender so that he could screw her and then forget her? Was this all because she had refused him what he wanted, and he just couldn’t take that?

  He sipped his coffee and contemplated that for a while. Then he sighed as he realized the truth: that he actually just liked her and wanted to spend some more time with her.

  At first, he’d thought that time would be best spent in bed – and make no mistake, bed is a big part of what this is all about – but it was more than that. Jax had the sneaking suspicion that if she’d agreed to stay for coffee the day before, or accepted an invitation to dinner, and they’d just gone for a ride on the bike and talked, he’d have been almost as happy.

  Goddammit. She’s crawled under your skin. Fuck, man. You’re dead in the water. In some ways, it’d be easier if this was just about your raging hard-on and ego.

  But what was in that house? Jax had been a lousy student, but he was blessed with brains and a healthy dose of intuition, and everything about Sarah’s behavior the day before screamed that she had a husband. A controlling husband, who had her on some kind of leash and fucking schedule. When he thought of how scared she’d been in that parking lot, trapped without a car and helplessly looking at her watch, Jax’s stomach tensed up. Whatever was waiting in that house, it was bad news and it had made her panic.

  OK, man. You don’t want to get all messed up with a married chick, no matter how fucking hot her ass is. Just get over it, yeah? No need to ever see her again. She’ll never be back here, you never have any reason to go to Lincoln Park. Just call it a day.

  “Mister Jax?”

  Jax turned now and saw Gabriela Torres standing next to him. Her black eyes were bright and beautiful, her long, dark hair pulled back to show off those great cheekbones. She was holding a pair of rubber gloves in one hand, in the other she held something shiny.

  “I found this in one of the back rooms,” she said. “I thought maybe the woman would be back looking for it?”

  She dropped it in to his hand, and he looked down at a long gold chain and a circle pendant with a small blue stone in the middle. Sarah’s necklace. He almost groaned.

  For fuck sake. The second I decide to never see her again, this happens. Shit.

  “Thanks, Gabriela,” he said. “I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

  She smiled at him, a rare sight. Her eyes had dark circles under them, as usual, and Jax knew that the cleaning job at his place was just one of the four that she held down. Despite her almost-chronic exhaustion, Gabriela was his best cleaning woman. She got those crash rooms to immaculate condition every morning, no matter what debauchery had taken place in them the night before. She’d never said one word about anything she’d seen or found while cleaning, and Jax appreciated her discretion more than anything. He paid her well, and made sure to kick in regular cash bonuses to keep her showing up and happy.

  She went back to the crash rooms now, and he saw Aidan watching her closely. Jax had long suspected that his barman had a thing for Gabriela, but he’d never asked about it. He made it a point to never get involved in anyone’s personal life, and he expected them to return the courtesy. Now, though, he felt the overwhelming urge to go all chick and start blathering about his feelings. Aidan would have to do, he supposed, since nobody else was really around.

  Jax cleared his throat and Aidan’s golden eyes jerked away from Gabriela’s shapely ass. “Hey, man?”

  “Yeah?” Aidan said. “You ready for some lunch?”

  “No, not yet.” Jax paused. “Gabriela found Red’s necklace.”

  Aidan glanced down. “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Aidan stared at his boss. “And…”

  “And I’m just wondering how I can get it back to her.”

  Aidan leaned back, crossed his large arms. It was crystal clear that what Jax wanted more than anything was to see Sarah again, and the necklace was the perfect excuse. Sadly, the man wasn’t really known for his relationship skills, so he maybe needed some encouragement. But Aidan was going to play with him a bit first; it was almost always slow between ten a.m. and two p.m. and he was firmly in the dead zone.

  “Well. Her car’s still out in the lot. I can always break in and leave the necklace on the front seat.”

  Jax glared at the reasonableness of that suggestion. He racked his brains to find an objection. “Uh. I don’t want you to break in to her car.”

  Aidan grinned to himself. Jax had never had a problem with his hard-won skills before, and had made good use of them on far more than a single occasion. “OK. Well, you know her address, right? You can mail it to her. Like, in the post.”

  Jax was stumped. “Yeah. I guess I could.”

  Aidan waited a few seconds. “Or…”

  Jax looked up.

  “…you could always just drive on over there and drop it off.” Aidan uncrossed his arms. “Deliver it in person.”

  Jax was silent.

  “What?” Aidan said. “Any reason why you don’t want to do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Jax stared at his hands. “Something… something’s weird over there.”

  “Weird how?”

  Jax explained, and Aidan listened, mystified. When Jax had finished talking, Aidan was intrigued.

  “Well, I think you need to go over there and see what’s what, don’t you? Make sure she’s OK.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.” Aidan took Jax’s empty coffee cup. “Look, I don’t believe for one second she has a husband. I mean, she has a recent ex-boyfriend, right? And Red doesn’t strike me as the cheating, lying kind. It must be something else, and maybe we can help.”

  “Help?” Jax said.

  “Yeah,” Aidan said. “Wouldn’t you help her if you could?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, go, man.” Aidan resisted the urge to shove Jax’s stubborn ass out the door. “Go see her. You know you really want to.”

  Jax glared. “I’m busy right now.”

  “Like hell you are,” Aidan said. “Go on, Stud. Go see Red.”

  Jax glared some more, but he got to his feet.

  Aidan grinned.

  Just call me the Love Doctor.

  **

  Jax pulled up outside Sarah’s house and lowered the motorcycle kickstand. He reclined on the bike for a few seconds, just looking around. He spotted a group of teenagers lounging around the vacant lot and made eye contact with each and every one of them. They tried to give back as good as they were getting, but Jax was an expert at the ferocious stare-off. They backed down pretty damn quick and he got off his bike then, sure that nobody was going to lay a finger on it.

 
He walked up the narrow path to the porch steps, taking in the gardening efforts. It looked like someone actually gave a damn about the state of the grass – such as it was – and had tried to plant a few flowers. It was pretty grim, but Jax was sure that it had been Sarah’s handiwork. His heart squeezed at the thought of her giving a damn about such a bleak and depressing patch of earth.

  He got to the door and hesitated. You still have time to get out of here, man. Just leave the necklace in the mailbox and bolt. And even as he had the thought, his hand was reaching up to knock on the door.

  The door swung open and Sarah stood there. She looked completely, totally shocked to see him there and despite his own tension and uncertainty, he smiled at her. She looked beautiful in jeans and a blue t-shirt that picked up those incredible eyes, and Jax wanted to run his hands over her breasts, pull her in tight and close, lick her pink lips. Both sets.

  “Hi, Red.”

  “Jax?” Sarah was stunned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to return something to you.” He paused. “Can I come in?”

  She glanced behind her and he squinted, trying to see what she was looking at. “Uh. I’ll come out.” She unlocked the screen door and stepped on to the porch, partly closing the door behind her. He looked at her closely, taking in the makeup on her face.

  “You did a good job covering it all up,” he said.

  She blinked, confused, then she touched her cheek. “Oh. Oh, yeah.”

  “How’s it feel?” He longed to push that glorious hair back off her forehead, check the stitches, but that wasn’t his place. “Your forehead?”

  “Better.” She twisted her hands, looking agitated. She shot another quick look inside the house. “So, what are you returning?”

  “This.” The necklace dangled between his fingers and she gasped.

  “Oh, God. I thought I’d lost it in the parking lot when Dave… when he knocked me out.”

  “Nope, it was in the crash room.”