“I can’t leave my car here,” she protested.
He hit the brakes, and the truck slid a bit on the wet street. “Then get out.” He turned those hard green eyes on her. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Ivory gripped her coat lapels so she wouldn’t haul off and hit him. He continued to glower, but when she didn’t make a move to get out, he pulled into traffic. Suddenly not sure how to start the conversation about what happened between them, she jumped right into the reason she needed to talk to the man in the first place.
“What are you going to do about Ashley?”
Jax flipped on the radio, turned the dial to a metal station. “I’m going to see if I can find her father in a month, or my biological mother’s parents. If I can’t, I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”
Ivory glared at the statue sitting next to her. “How can you have looked at that baby and still not want her?”
Jax switched lanes, taking Route 128 toward Manchester. “Because I’m not a suitable guardian for a child, Miss Black.”
Okay, he had a point. He was military. She knew he was a sniper. He killed people. Yet still, if a child could be placed within the family, it was best. The chances of finding Ashley’s father were slim to none and she doubted any grandparent’s were still living and able to take care of an infant. And he called her Miss Black.
“ Ivory, Captain.”
Jax glared out the windshield. “Last night never happened. It didn’t matter to me, and it won’t matter to you once I’m gone. Get over it.”
Ivory wouldn’t allow the hurt that bubbled up in her throat to be expelled, so she tamped it down and pushed it to the back of her mind. She needed to remember the man didn’t deal with regular people on a daily basis and he probably had been so far removed from love for so long, he didn’t even know how to respond humanly to a baby.
“You had your hands down my pants last night,” she said. “That’s not something I take lightly, Jax.”
She could tell the reminder of their embrace the night before mattered to him. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, the white showing on his tanned knuckles. The scar stood out against the taut skin. She wanted to know how he got it.
“And it’s something that happens everywhere, every day, Ivory.”
She turned in her seat, slamming back against the passenger window when he took a turn too sharply. She made sure her seatbelt worked, because this ride could get dangerous. For both of them, and in more ways than one.
“Not to me.”
Jax threw an I-don’t-believe-you look her way, and then refocused on the road. If she affected him at all, she only knew by the white of his hands and the dancing tendon in his neck and jaw.
“Then you need to get out more because you’ve got a hell of a body, and it’s a shame it’s not put to more use.”
Ivory saw red at his casual remark, her fists tightening, clenching as she her arm tensed, ready to give him a blow to the side, in the ribs. She nearly had her hand drawn back when he said, “Don’t even think about it.”
She dropped her hand and forced her fingers open, one by one. She stared out at the passing trees, dormant in the winter. The road gave way to thinning businesses and they entered the rural part of Massachusetts. Twenty minutes passed before either of them spoke again. She broke the silence.
“All right, so if you don’t find the father, you’re willing to sign the child over to the state?”
Jax relaxed his hands on the steering wheel. “Yes.”
Ivory let her disappointment show on her face by giving him a disapproving stare as he made his way through small town after small town until they reached his house. He parked the car and got out before she had a chance to open her door. Damn, she thought. He always did that. On the move, constantly. Did the man ever wait?
“Haven’t you heard of manners?”
He unlocked his front door. “I remember my mother saying something about them,” he said, throwing his keys on the front hall table. Just yesterday, the place had looked like a ghost house, and now, the wood floors gleamed, the furniture was uncovered, the spartan living room dust free. She shut the door and let her eyes adjust to the semidarkness from the sunny outdoors.
He moved toward the rear of the house, where she assumed the kitchen was located. The kitchen looked like every other kitchen she’d ever seen and wasn’t at all impressive save for the cleanliness. Obviously, the man didn’t like crumbs. Her own kitchen seemed to have crumbs on the counter all the time, no matter how much she cleaned.
After he opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, cracked them and tossed them into a skillet on the stove top, he finally faced her again, his body braced against the granite counter. Suddenly, she knew it was a major mistake coming out here, alone, with him. She wanted the safety of crowds. Then again, the night before even crowds couldn’t keep her body from betraying her. The memory flashed hot through her body, came alive as she pressed her thighs against the blooming ache at her center, the blood rushing to her clit. Her breasts grew heavy, and nipples peaked. She thanked Victoria’s Secret for padded bras.
* * * *
Jax fought the need racing through him. He’d been up all night cleaning just to keep his mind off the way her silken pussy, clenching, ready for release, felt around his fingers. By the time the sun dawned, he had felt too exhausted to think of anything but sleep, yet she had invaded his dreams.
She stood in front of him now, the desire in her eyes causing his body to ripen with need, once again. The woman was poison, and he knew nothing about her, except she turned into a barracuda when it came to her work. She sank her teeth in and never backed off. Irritation at his demanding dick and her tenacity throbbed through his head until he couldn’t see straight.
Ivory would complicate his life, and he would leave in the end, his head a mess. He couldn’t afford to have a fucked up mind in his line of work. He watched her, her small, pert breasts outlined by the white sweater she wore. His keen observation skills caught every twitch, every movement she made, and right then, she clenched her thighs together, the muscles bunching beneath her tight jeans. So, she wanted it as badly as he did.
A haze of lust overtook him. He removed his eggs from the stove, and the crackling and spitting grease ceased. He moved toward her, slow, his footsteps silent on the tiled floor. He never took his eyes off her and watched her eyes widen at his approach. He registered her sharp intake of breath, the way she tensed, as if she would need the weapon she kept tucked at her side.
Amusement and morals went out the window as he stalked his prey. When he reached her, he lifted her chin up so could look directly into her eyes and got lost in the pools of blue that seemed endless. Satisfaction curled in his gut as he watched the hint of fear enter her eyes, like before a kill, when the target somehow just knew the bullet was on its way, and then the surprise, as if they didn’t know what hit them.
With the same precision and emotional disconnect, he felt during a kill, he zeroed in on her, pressed her back against his kitchen wall. A part of himself he no longer acknowledged rose on its haunches and howled at the sight of this woman. Mine.
“I’m leaving here in a month and I won’t look back. Do you still want this?”
Ivory’s bowed upper lip enticed him, and when she spoke, the tip of her tongue jetted out to lick her lower one. His balls drew up, his cock jerked, aching to be released from the confines of his jeans, and pumped by her small hands. The whole ride to his house, he thought about dragging her into his lap, pulling over, and burying himself to the hilt in her softness. The only place he found softness in a cruel world where men killed men like animals.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Chapter Three
Jax picked her up. She locked her legs around his waist, and he plundered her mouth with his. He groaned at the sweet taste of Ivory, her little tongue darting against his, her lips like a pillow. He felt his beard rasp against her skin, and he knew he’d have to be careful it di
dn’t leave marks on her face.
She moaned when he gripped her ass and ground her against his shaft. He moved through his kitchen by memory as he sipped from her mouth and sucked on her lips. The stairs off the kitchen led right to the master bedroom. He took them two at time, never taking his hands from her body or his lips from her mouth.
Once he got her into his bedroom, he set her on her feet. Jax pulled off his sweater and smiled when her eyes rounded. Yes, he knew he had a nice body. His abs were strong from hours of lying perfectly still on his stomach. The tattoos on his stomach served two purposes. One: they represented the number of lives he’d taken in combat, each face spilling from the black hole, a skeletal being with hollow eyes clawing their way out of his body. Two: they hid the numerous scars he’d collected over the ten years he’d been in the military.
He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed the soft cotton over his hips. He wore no boxers. Going commando was his favorite way to be, and his manhood sprang up to greet her. She backed up and crossed her arms over body to discard her sweater, but Jax stopped her. “I’m going to undress you. Then, I’m going to lay you back on that bed and feast on you. Can you take a personal day?”
She nodded. He could go slower later, but at the moment, his body raged at him, and he needed to get inside of her. He’d bought a box of condoms just in case he decided to bed a woman while on leave and had stashed them in his dresser drawer. He retrieved three and threw them on the navy blue comforter of his specially made bed. Most of the beds you could buy in stores didn’t fit his height. He’d have to take care with her because of the way his size measured up to hers. Her fragile body, lean legs, and small hips might prove to be a challenge.
She reached out to touch him, but Jax held her hands down at her side. “No.”
Ivory’s blue eyes darkened. “I won’t be told what to do.”
Jax smirked at her. “Babe, you’re going to beg by the time I’m done with you,” he growled. He ripped her sweater from neck to bottom and discarded the material. She sucked in a breath when he removed her weapon, the cool of the barrel causing a pattern of goose flesh to ripple across her flat abdomen.
“What am I supposed to wear home?”
Jax ignored her and focused on her breasts with the same intensity he did on the objective. Her dusky nipples peaked over the half-cup lace bra and his erection danced in anticipation. “Lie down.”
She sat down, and then lay back, supporting herself with her elbows. Her black hair remained pinned up, and Jax wanted to break the thing capturing the mass of black heaven. He leaned over and planted kisses along her naval, up her rib cage, and across her neck. He reached behind her head, removed the offending clips, and felt the heavy weight of her silky hair fall into his waiting palms.
It had been a long time since he felt the strands of a woman’s hair, and he reveled in the moment, drawing in her flowery shampoo. “What do you use?”
* * * *
Ivory barely registered the question, her body aching and in need of the male member giving her a salute just inches away from her still clothed bottom half. “Huh?”
“Your shampoo.”
Ivory bit her lip and shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. Herbal Essence.”
She heard him breathe in. He’d ordered her not to touch him, but out of sheer defiance, she ran her palms over his bare ass while digging her nails in. The hiss near her ear made her smile, and she arched to graze her breasts over his chest. The man made Michelangelo’s David seem like a puny kid.
Each of his muscles were so hard, cut and defined, that it looked like the man had been handmade with steel cords. Not an inch of fat graced his body, the stems of his legs were honed to perfection. His ass felt like a rock beneath her hands, and she quivered in need.
His skin felt like an inferno, smoking and blazing where her nails bit in. When he lifted her up to unclasp her bra, she flinched as the lace scraped over her sensitive nipples. He threw her bra away, placed his fiery palms, on her and kneaded her breasts gently yet demanding.
Liquid heat pulsed in her veins, starting at her nipples and shooting straight to her groin like flaming arrows. She sucked in a breath when he lowered his mouth to one engorged peak of her breasts and sucked the tip between his teeth, biting down gently, scraping his beard across it. She moaned when he took the same path that he’d taken earlier, down her ribs to her belly button.
Jax stopped at her jeans and bit down on the material. Ivory watched him through hooded lids, her heartbeat hammering against her chest. He provoked a sigh from her when the button on her jeans snapped open, the zipper’s teeth clicking as he slid the short barrier down.
He looked up at her as if seeking permission to remove her jeans. Ivory nodded, her thoughts flying out the window when he slid the jeans over her hips. He lifted her to pull them over her ass and down past her thighs. He kissed the top of each foot before letting her jeans crumple out of sight onto the floor.
Ivory lay on the sea of the bed, her naked body exposed to his tormenting green eyes. How could she have thought his green eyes were glassy and cold when they bore into her with such intensity that she felt her body heating from a perusal? A slow smile spread across his face, and Ivory couldn’t take the waiting anymore. Opening her arms, she reached out to him. Jax lay down against her, his blistering flesh infuriating her aroused state as she moved beneath, spreading her thighs to better fit his taller body.
Everywhere she touched, she encountered iron planes and corded muscles. His shaft prodded at her center, her panties the only barrier between satisfaction and agony. He levered himself up on his elbows, sucked on her earlobe, and pressed his hips down, which created a rhythm designed to throw her into a desperate plea.
He pinned her arms above her head. “I’m not going to stop if we go much further,” he growled. “Fuck, I don’t know if I can stop now. Ivory”—he closed his eyes, shutting her out from the turmoil there—“it’s been a long time for me.”
Ivory felt her something inside of her shift, and she pressed up, arching against him. He grabbed a condom while he held her palms down with one hand. He ripped the foil open with his teeth and managed to sheath himself. Ivory licked her lips as she saw the clear latex sliding over his member, hugging the velvety flesh. She longed to taste him, touch him, but his palms engulfed her two and his weight pinned her hips to the mattress. She was bound, for lack of a better word.
Jax looked up at her, the glitter of his gaze mesmerizing her. She didn’t need foreplay. His slow grind caused her core to weep with hunger, need. When she felt the flared head of his member pressing against her nether lips after he moved the scrap of lace aside, she raised her hips, opening further to him.
“Now,” she panted.
Jax looked down at her and, spearing her with one solid thrust, filled her entirely. Ivory could feel him pulsing inside of her, his manhood jerking, twitching. She bore down, then bucked. He gripped her hands tighter, interlocking his fingers with hers. She flexed her hands.
His angular face was pulled back in a mask of pleasure or pain, which she couldn’t tell. His lips were white from pressing them together so tightly, his throat worked to hold in whatever he wanted to expel. She reached up, bit down lightly on the cords of his neck that were standing out in relief against the tightened skin. He let go a string of words Ivory couldn’t understand.
She drowned in the sensation of his body filling hers. She writhed beneath his heavy weight, willed him to do something, anything, yet he stayed perfectly still, his shaft locking her body to his. She needed to release, let go the orgasm that had been building inside of her since his assault on her the night before. “Jax. Please,” she begged.
And he started to move, slow, long thrusts that stroked the heightened nerve endings along her channel and sparked tiny electrical currents zigzagging through her womb. He let go of her palms, freeing her hands. She dug her nails into his back, pressed her heels against his thighs, and took him deeper.
She was dimly aware of his growl of approval, but Ivory was lost to her own mind-bending pleasure. The way he stretched her, pressed against the bundle of nerves. Her clit screamed for relief, and the constant friction of his hips against hers pressed just enough to tease her into a frenzy. “Harder,” she urged him.
Jax’s eyes flashed bright, a streak of lightning in the green depths, and Ivory knew she’d just asked for something larger than she could understand. She shivered in anticipation, her inner muscles milking the hardened shaft invading her body. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm building, tingling along her pelvic bone, centering on her core, pulsing against her clit.
“Are you sure you want it harder, Ivory?”
His voice went soft, challenging. She was on fire from his long, slow strokes and he asked if she wanted it harder? “Yes, damn you.”
Jax snapped, his control gone. She saw the change in him, the dark, unleashed fury, and she felt fear for all of three seconds before he rammed into her. Ivory’s breath caught on a cry of ecstasy as her orgasm ripped through her. Stars formed behind her eyelids as her body ignited, the staggering sensations pulsing through her, sieving the strength from her body. She went limp beneath his pounding hips, his cock pushing her higher until the pleasure bordered on pain. She’d never felt such hunger, such fervent wanting.
Ivory's Addiction Page 4
