Ivory's Addiction

by Teirney Medeiros

  “She’s trying to crawl,” Ivory said, still combing out the wet strands.

  Jax looked up, a dent between his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

  “She’s rocking, trying to get on her belly.”

  Jax stared at his niece, his eyes wide as the baby rocked and rolled, kicking her legs. When she finally made it onto her stomach, she grunted because her arm became trapped beneath her. Jax flipped her back over, and Ashley went back to entertaining herself.

  Full disclosure, Ivory thought. Honesty-built relationships. Even bed buddies had a relationship. She took a deep breath. “Nathan stopped by last night.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ivory didn’t know why she’d decided to tell him, but the fact he’d gotten so jealous over a phone call prompted her to be up front with him. Jax continued to watch Ashley play, her coos filling the room. “Mickey called me while you were in there.”

  Ivory perked up at his disclosure. “Does he have anything new?”

  Jax sat up and rubbed his eyes. “He said he talked to a few neighbors. Got a name out of the lady who lived across the hall. Mace. She didn’t know the last name, but had heard Mary yelling it on occasion.”

  Ivory bit her lip. “Mace. Have the police run the name?”

  Ashley started crying at that moment, and Jax looked down at her, a half-smile on his face. “She’s never happy.”

  Ivory hid her amusement, ducking her head as she went to the baby. As soon as she neared the bed, Jax pulled her down on top of him, his strong arms banding around her waist, crushing the air from her chest. She struggled, elbowing him in the gut. He let out ‘oomph’, but managed to secure her arms beneath his. Ashley blinked, her cries dying out.

  “That worked,” Ivory muttered.

  “Yeah. So, what are your plans today?”

  Ivory blew the hair off her face, hog-tied as she was in his arms. The strands just fell back across her eyes, tickling her nose. “I don’t know. Nana and I were going to go shopping for new window drapes. She’s bored with hers.”

  Jax’s grin lit up, his teeth flashing white against his dark skin, laugh lines around his eyes standing out in relief. “I like your Nana.”

  “She likes you, too.” Ivory winked at him.

  “I’m going to ask my neighbors to keep an eye on Ashley while I go talk to Mickey, find out what he knows.”

  Ivory stared down at him through the thin, black curtain of her hair. He released her arms, and she slid to the side of him, careful of the baby. She felt him withdraw, the cold seeping into the room when she realized she lost him, that he’d gone inside himself. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Jax’s eerily flat eyes met her own stare, and Ivory flinched. How did he do that? Just shut it all down, as if no one resided in there. Ivory felt the ridiculous urge to scream at him for his retreat rise in her, the compulsion building in her chest. She breathed slowly, in through her nose, out through her mouth.

  Jax returned his eyes to the ceiling, his muscles still, his breathing shallow. He flexed his fingers, repeatedly. Ivory noticed the scar again, the one she’d saw the first time she met him. Was he remembering how he got the scar? Ivory shivered as she imagined all the ways he could have been hurt. Somehow, he made her forget that outside of Boston, he lived a life she’d never understand. If he could so easily slip in and out of the personas, who was Jax really? The man she’d started to get to know, or the killer lying on the bed before her?

  When he spoke, Ivory jumped, scaring Ashley, the baby tensing, wide eyed.

  “It’s classified.”

  And the tension snapped.

  At his harsh tone, Ivory hoisted Ashley onto her hip and walked to the bedroom door. He still lay there, drawn inward. It was the first time she’d seen him so lifeless. Fear trickled into her conscious, but she imprisoned it, limiting the emotion to a passing moment. If she’d met Jax any other way, she might have run scared the first time she saw that look. Instead of turning tail, she gave him the moment he obviously needed, and slipped out of the room.

  * * * *

  Jax couldn’t stop the grip on his mind. He dared hope for something real, something tangible and the cross-hairs filled his mind. He felt himself swallowed backward in time, lying on the desert floor, the scorching sand causing sweat to trickle down his face into his eye. At least the eye he needed to use was pressed against the scope, keeping the moisture out.

  His breath moved in and out of his lungs, controlled, slow. He dare not move to grab his canteen of water. He positioned himself too close to the perimeter, ready to take out the target. Intel monitored the particular nest of Taliban soldiers, noted the activities down to their regular bathroom trips.

  Damn, the sun grew hot on his neck, the sweat and sand beginning to itch. He ignored it. His target would be heading for their noon meal soon, and as close as Jax sat with Luke, he couldn’t afford to move. Not an inch. They didn’t speak, Luke lying perfectly still, their camouflaged bodies covered by sparse trees and shrubs dotting the barren landscape.

  The signal came. Luke spoke softly into his communication link. “Right on time.”

  Jax readied his mind, the void filled his thoughts. He blacked out the part of himself that, still even after years, balked at killing. No remorse.

  Jax found his target. The man didn’t seem like a threat, a smile on his darkly tanned face, his beard neatly groomed. He couldn’t be more than five-eight. Scrawny. Jax followed him, waiting for the perfect moment. The moment when the man faced forward just enough, a flash of white in the scope. Eyes, the white of the eyes. Jax compensated for the wind. Held his breath.

  Squeezed the trigger, slowly, effortlessly. Jax felt the click beneath his index finger, his trusty rifle never making a sound. Jax watched, and a nano-second later, a bright red dot spread on the target’s chest, growing like a blooming rose in the summer. In the heart.

  One shot.

  One kill.

  No remorse.

  A soft tapping interrupted the memory, and Jax sat straight up, his muscles tensed, locked. His teeth ached from clenching his jaw. It popped when he opened his mouth. He wiped sweat off his forehead, as if he could still feel the hot sand on his body.

  “Yeah?”

  Ivory popped her head in the door, her brows drawn down, concern etched on her face. “Are you all right?”

  Jax shook his head. No. He’d never be all right.

  “I’m fine. Just needed a minute.”

  Ivory glanced at her black watch. “It’s been an hour.”

  Jax glanced at his clock. He’d lost an hour? Shit. The memories were becoming more and more real, as if he relived them. He knew PTSD had become the common diagnosis for soldiers who experience flashbacks and nightmares in real time, but Jax refused to believe his mind finally fractured.

  “Ashley?”

  Ivory stepped into the room, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ears. Her blue eyes shone bright with worry, and she crossed the distance between them to sit on the bed. She put her hand against his cheek. “She’s fine.”

  “You’re burning up,” she said, bit her lip. She got to her feet, went to his bathroom and returned with a washcloth, pressing it to his forehead. “Have you sought treatment for this?”

  Jax pulled away from her, stood, and cracked his back. “I can’t get treatment. I’ve got a top secret security clearance. If I seek treatment, I’ll lose it.”

  Ivory sucked her bottom lip into mouth and Jax felt liquid fire pool in his groin, reminding him of the serious case of blue balls he still had from earlier. His cock grew in his pants, demanding his attention, screaming for relief. Jax looked at Ivory, her pretty little mouth puckered in anxiousness. He wanted to feel her hot little tongue licking his balls. He needed to lose himself in her, let her take away the panic that clutched him so tightly.

  “Ashley is asleep?”

  Sensing his need, she stood and removed her sweat shirt. Her pert little breasts were bare, and Jax groaned, fil
ling the space between them. He gripped her body, pulling her against him. She eagerly met him for his kiss, her mouth opening to him. He stilled as her taste filled him, the sweet honeydew of Ivory burst on his tongue. “On the bed, now.”

  She backed up, unzipped her jeans. Jax pulled on the cuffs, the material coming off with one yank. Ivory got on her knees, the triangle of her scarlet thong a beacon. Jax dropped his jeans, tossed his sweatshirt. With his eyes on her hot lithe body, he retrieved a condom from his nightstand. “No.”

  Jax halted. “What?”

  “I don’t want you to wear a condom,” Ivory said, licked her lips. “I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt that night in the truck.”

  Jax’s dick jumped at the prospect. “You want me to fuck you without protection?”

  Ivory’s little cat smile made Jax nearly cum on the spot, his sac growing tighter. “I’m protected, and I’m sure you’re healthy, so, why not?”

  Jax dropped the condom back in the drawer of his nightstand, gripped his shaft, stroked it to ease some of the tension riding his loins. “Don’t play around with me, Ivory.”

  “I’m not,” she said. She patted the bed and Jax lay down beside her. Somehow, the moment turned more intimate than he prepared himself for. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like just sex anymore. Now they shared something. “Roll over,” she instructed him.

  Jax lay on his back, his arms stretched behind his head. Ivory climbed over him, lowering her wet folds against his dick, the juices gathering there lathering his member in her cream. She slid along the length, teasing him. Jax gripped her hips, ready to impale her when she shook her head no. “Not yet.”

  Jax rapidly lost control of the situation as she continued her sensual assault, gliding along his member without penetration, the feel of the buttery soft folds coated him, his muscles strung tight from the constant torture. She cupped her own breasts, flicked her own nipples, and Jax growled out his frustration.

  A knowing smile curved her sultry lips, and Jax took the opportunity while her head was flung back to regain his dominant stance, rolling them both until she lay beneath him, her mouth slightly parted. He kissed her neck, sucked on the tender skin. He moved down her body, gripped one distended nipple between his teeth, while his palm kneaded her thigh, dragging it higher up his body. He sank a finger inside of her, her sheath welcoming the invasion, seizing his digit with her silky muscles. Cream flowed over his hand as he massaged her inner core.

  She dug her nails into his shoulder, her neck arched as she strained against him. His thumb found her clit and pressed down. She jerked beneath his ministrations, and when he saw the flush climb her breasts, her pulse jumped against the skin of her neck, Jax spread her legs wide, positioned himself at her entrance. He savored the feel of her pussy as he slid inside, inch by inch, working past her tightness with slow, deliberate thrusts. Jax held himself rigid as he entered her, watching her pupils dilate, her lips tremble as she held in her pleasure.

  “Sweet mercy, Ivory,” he exhaled. “You’re perfect.”

  He set a pace, his hips meeting hers over and over, his balls slapping against her ass as she met him thrust for thrust. He gripped her thigh, pushing her foot up onto his shoulder, as he slid deeper than he’d ever been before. Her rapid breath and sighs transformed the act from one of animal instinct to something he dare not label.

  * * * *

  He pushed her higher, a sense of peace washed over her when the storm building inside her finally broke, her cries echoing inside her head. She raised her hips in time with his, met him as he slammed into her.

  She felt waves of painful pleasure roll over her, the agony of his continued assault on her inner muscles addicting. Her clit pulsed with need, the warm trickle of need fused with her spine. She wanted him. All of him. “Give me something to remember when you leave, Jax,” she whispered against his ear.

  Her core sang with satisfaction as his cock dragged over the tensed muscles and exposed nerves. She stared into his eyes, saw twin tornadoes of passion, the honesty lay behind the sooty black eyelashes. He’d exposed something to her. She could see the vulnerability on his face. The place he came from and where he would go next.

  Jax placed a kiss on her neck, then bit down on the hollow of her shoulder and neck. She held on tighter as his arms locked, his hips ceasing to piston. A few shallow strokes, and Ivory felt his seed slide into her, the warm fluid a bind. Her eyes drifted closed as she held his body, the tremors and aftershocks racked him.

  Aware something monumental just occurred, Ivory wisely kept her mouth shut. Now would not be the time to awaken the sleeping cougar inside of him. When he sat up, Ivory saw the shut down. He’d thrown her out, closed himself off again. The man would drive her insane if he kept doing it. She pulled on her sweatshirt, covered her exposed breasts. She quickly jumped into her jeans, before looking at him again. The stunned look was gone, at least.

  She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, her cheeks still hot from their exertions. “I’ll go check on Ashley.”

  Ivory left Jax sitting on the bed, naked. She wandered into Ashley’s room. She leaned on the crib railing, watching the child sleep. Peace could be found in the silence of a nursery, she thought. Jax needed to find that peace. They’d kept the curtains closed for Ashley’s comfort, but Ivory knew the sun came up and she could hear birds chirp in the trees outside.

  When she heard a soft knock on the door, she turned to see Jax there, in his jeans, the top button undone. Her mouth watered. His flat stomach showcased the power in his hips, the lines of muscles cut against the denim. “I’ve got to go into town. Will you watch her for an hour or so?”

  “Are you going to find out about Mace?”

  He rubbed a hand against his neck, and Ivory noticed the love bites she’d left there. She’d marked her territory. He sank his hands into his pockets, causing the jeans to tug downward slightly. Oh, he was too sexy for her health.

  “Yeah, I’m going to ask around. See what I can find out,” he said.

  She went to sit in the glider they’d bought for the room, the new cushion stiff beneath her weight. She rocked slowly, one foot curled beneath her. “Of course. I’ll watch her.”

  Jax disappeared before she could say anything else to him. Ivory rested her head against the back of the chair, the slightly darkened room making her eyes heavy. She’d been up since four a.m., going over the conversation with Nathan, Ashley’s non-existent father, Mary’s downfall. Jax’s haunted expressions. How did she get so involved with this case?

  She took every one of the files that crossed her desk just as seriously as the one before it. That did not change, but Jax himself changed the entirety of this equation. How did she become too addicted to him? He wasn’t nice, he barely spared much more than a few words about himself when she asked, and he didn’t volunteer information. His stubborn attitude and long silences put her firmly in her place more often than not, and Ivory wasn’t one to question her role in something. She prided herself on being sensible. She didn’t cling where she was not wanted, and took life’s curveballs with a smile on her face and a middle finger in the air.

  When Nathan dumped her for Emma, she held herself regally poised, wished them both well and went on with her life. No one knew she cried herself to sleep that night. To the world, she was headstrong and did not relent on something she believed in. And she didn’t. But when someone like Jax crossed her path, practically screaming for help, Ivory couldn’t resist the silent call. He didn’t know, but Jax drowned in his own misery. Ashley, a sweet, innocent child, was exactly what he needed to remember why letting people into your life was the remedy for lost hope.

  If only she could convince him to stay.

  * * * *

  Jax pulled up to the apartment building Mickey directed him to. Mickey had been right. The place looked like a dump. It smelled like a dump, located only a mile from the fishing docks. Groups of children he assumed should have been in school hung out on the front steps of t
he lot, passing bottles of beer and cigarettes back and forth.

  Jax pocketed his keys, made sure his windows were up, the doors locked and in perfect view should he hear the alarm go off. When he approached the front walk, the kids parted, their tough guy faces gone, and Jax realized the children could be no more than twelve or thirteen.

  The girls piled on thick makeup, their eyes lined in black kohl, and the boys wore pants too large and hats slicked backward. “You should be in school,” he barked as he passed.

  They scrambled into corners like cockroaches when a light gets turned on. Jax looked at his watch. Mickey was supposed to meet him in ten minutes, so Jax cooled his heels, taking in the neighborhood.