by Lily Cahill
He rubbed his finger against the sensitive bud. “Do you want my mouth on you here?”
“Yes,” Tiff managed through another moan.
His finger teased her lower, curling lightly at the edge of her opening. “Do you want my tongue in you?”
“Y—”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Jax plunged his finger into her, flicking against a spot deep inside of her. Tiff gasped with pleasure and rocked her hips against Jax’s hand.
Jax pulled his finger free and grabbed hold of Tiff’s panties. “Lift your hips.”
She did, and he dragged her soaked underwear down her legs. She was bare and open to him, and Jax groaned at the sight. He pressed his hands against the inside of her thighs and spread her wider. Jesus. She was beautiful. He wanted to lap and suck at that clit for the rest of his life.
He could barely stand it, but Jax made himself go slow, take his time. It was everything to keep his mouth from attacking her pussy, his fingers plunging into her so she’d come quick and he’d finally have a chance to bury his cock to the hilt.
Each kiss brought his lips closer to her, and before long, Tiff was tilting her hips to bring him even closer. Finally, finally, he flicked his tongue out and licked at the very tip of her clit. Tiff moaned loudly and wrapped her hands into Jax’s hair. She dragged his head closer, and he licked at her fully.
He dragged his tongue up her slit, then back down, before pressing it between her folds. She groaned, then groaned louder when he curled his tongue up and then against her clit before pulling it between his lips. He sucked at her, flicking his tongue in a growing rhythm that she matched with her strangled gasps of ecstasy. His fingers slipped up between her wet thighs, and he plunged two into her. He pumped his fingers and sucked at her, and her desire climbed higher and higher.
Her fingers went tight in his hair, her hips rocked forward. Then her pussy clamped down around him in a glorious wave of pure fulfillment.
“Yes! Oh my God, Jax. Yes!”
Her voice was ragged at the edges, his name raw in her mouth. It just made him harder. And her pussy. God, it was so tight around his fingers. Imagine what it’d feel like around his cock. Jax growled and reached one large, powerful arm around Tiff’s back and then shimmied it under her ass. He finally broke contact with her clit and straightened up on his knees, but he kept his fingers inside of her.
She was ebbing now, the waves of pleasure growing faint. Her mouth was red and wet, her eyes closed against the last moments of her orgasm. In one big motion, Jax lifted Tiff against his body with one arm and stood. He took two giant strides and pinned Tiff against the wall of her studio. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist.
And still, he kept his fingers deep inside of her. He moved them slowly, priming her body again for another orgasm. Her eyes drifted open, and she smiled.
“Demanding,” she whispered. “Can’t a girl have the best orgasm of her life in peace?”
Jax moved his fingers in and out, pausing when he was at his deepest to flick against her sensitive walls. He kissed his way up Tiff’s neck and then whispered against her lips. “That was your best? Is that a challenge to make you come harder?”
Tiff smiled. “Yes, please.”
Jax kissed her deeply as his fingers slowly stroked her, and little by little, he felt her come back to life. She moaned softly against his lips, and then that smile was back.
“Don’t you think it’s time you rise to that challenge, Mr. Hart?” Tiff snaked one hand down Jax’s side and tugged at his underwear.
“And how do you want me to rise to the challenge, Miss Anderson?”
Tiff paused, a purely naughty look in her eyes. “Your dick would do nicely.”
Jax nearly ripped his hand away from Tiff’s pussy to rid himself of his boxer-briefs. His cock pressed against her opening, but Jax held back. He looked straight into Tiff’s dark eyes.
“Say it. Tell me what you want.”
Tiff wrapped one hand around the long, thick shaft of Jax’s cock and guided him into her pussy, only an inch. Then she leaned closer to bite at his earlobe before whispering hotly. “I want you to fuck me.”
Jax thrust into her, and a rumbling groan tumbled out of him. She was so tight, so amazingly tight. Her pussy stretched wide for him, and he plunged deep inside of her. Tiff cried out with the thrust, her eyes popping wide.
“You’re so …,” she panted. “God, you’re so big.”
He thrust again, driving deeper. Tiff dropped her head back against the wall and could only moan, her lips parted and her breasts heaving. Tiff’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her fingernails biting into his skin. She rocked her hips to meet each plunging stroke of his dick. One of Tiff’s hands let go of Jax’s shoulder, and she dipped her fingers between them to touch herself. The sight of Tiff pleasuring herself—of being so confident in their mutual pleasure and not ashamed of her needs—drove Jax wild. He plunged deeper, thrust quicker. He dropped his head to Tiff’s breasts and licked at her nipples, sucking one then the other as she keened loudly.
This was different from all the other forgettable fucks he’d had in his life. Better wasn’t even the right way to describe it. All those other women were a pale imposter to the real thing. To perfection. Making love to Tiff wasn’t just sex, it was a connection that transcended everything else. With each pounding thrust into her open, welcoming body, Jax gave himself over to her completely.
He was so close, almost there. His whole body felt wondrously alive and absolutely electric. His skin tingled and prickled, and a burning heat was consuming his core. He felt everything tighten, tighten, tighten. Then he released. With one mighty groan at the same time that Tiff practically screamed his name, they came together. Her pussy was a silky-smooth vice around his shuddering cock.
Then everything went still. The only sound was their shattered breathing, gasping for air. They held on tight to each other, still standing upright against the wall with Tiff’s legs wrapped around his body. He never wanted to move again. He wanted to stay connected like this for all his days.
“That was …,” Tiff panted.
“Perfect,” Jax said.
Chapter Eight
Tiff
TIFF’S ENTIRE BODY FELT LIKE cotton candy—drawn thin and sugary and light as air. She curled against Jax’s body, nestled together with him on the floor of her studio with a soft throw draped over their naked forms. Tiff blinked lazily and walked her fingers up the plane of Jax’s stomach to his chest. She traced the outline of the bold, geometric triangle over his heart and then laid her palm there. His heart thumped slow and steady. Inside her own chest, Tiff’s heartbeat matched the rhythm.
A small, private smile curled the edges of Tiff’s lips. She’d just slept with Jax Hart. Holy jeez! Jax Hart!
She’d just wanted to flirt with him, to leave the encounter feeling sexy and more confident. But this …. Tiff sighed and shifted in Jax’s arms. She peeked up at him to find his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He seemed lost in thought, his hands draped heavy and almost limp around her.
This was a whole magnitude more than she’d planned to let herself do with the rockstar. The first prickle of discomfort settled against Tiff’s skin and made her squirm. She’d never slept with a man so quickly, let herself go with such abandon. Was it the fantasy of it? Of having sex with a nationwide object of desire? At the time, she’d felt so sure. Jeez, she’d felt so in control.
Tiff shifted again, putting a bit of distance between her body and Jax’s. He didn’t move to pull her in close again, and it felt like a confirmation. The space between them was suddenly cold and solid as a wall.
Reality was a wash of astringent soap in her mind. She’d just slept with a rockstar. A rockstar who was known for seducing and fucking women in every town. Because that’s what it was. They hadn’t made love. They had fucked. It was urgent and animalistic and—yes, at the time—hotter than anything Tiff had every experienced. But
now it felt empty.
And worst of all, Tiff felt shame itch against her naked skin, poke at her mind. She’d spread her legs wide for him. God, she’d done things she’d never done with other men before. The thought of Jax considering her just another conquest, another trophy that he’d brag about to his brothers …. Angry tears pricked the corners of Tiff’s eyes, and she sat up.
He had probably slept with her just to prove he could. Maybe she’d bruised his ego last night when she’d left so quickly, and this whole thing that had just happened was him proving to himself—and his brothers—that no one could resist. Even the chubby plus-one who’d rebuffed him. And she’d fallen for it.
“Tiff?” Jax’s faraway eyes focused on her, his large hands reached out for her. Tiff pulled the blanket away with her and stood up.
She stared down at him, naked and stretched out on the floor. “I think you should leave.”
Tiff turned away from Jax, suddenly self-conscious. She yanked her dress off the floor and tugged it quickly over her head. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned in Jax’s direction.
“I’ve got work to do,” she said, looking somewhere over his shoulder. She didn’t want to look into his eyes and see the truth: that what they’d just done was nothing to him, that she was nothing.
Jax scrambled to his feet, still naked. Jeez, couldn’t he just put some clothes on? Tiff didn’t want to be reminded of his hard, capable body flaunting itself right in front of her. It just made her more certain this had been a mistake. No one who looked like that would want to have sex with her.
“Wait,” Jax said. His voice was tight, and he reached out for Tiff. “What’s wrong, Tiff?”
Tiff took a steadying breath and let herself meet Jax’s eyes. “You got what you want, so there’s no need to pretend here.”
A frown pulled Jax’s dark eyebrows together, and he stared at Tiff for a long moment, only breaking his gaze to tug on his boxer-briefs and jeans. “I’m not pretending anything, Tiff. If anything, I haven’t been bold enough.” He pushed his muscular arms through his shirtsleeves and started buttoning up his shirt. It made something soften in Tiff a bit to see how his fingers shook as he tried to get his buttons right. He had to start over once.
Tiff almost stepped forward to help him. Maybe she was letting her own insecurities color this situation. He’d had sex with her, right? Maybe she wasn’t quite so forgettable.
“I don’t want to leave you now, Tiff. I don’t want to leave you ever.”
Tiff puffed out a big breath and pushed her shoulders back. If it was anyone else saying that to her, she’d melt. She’d tumble into his arms and give herself over completely. But this was Jax Hart, noted playboy. This was just a game to him, and he was spouting off nonsense just to win. He was toying with her. No. Tiff wouldn’t let herself fall for it. God. He couldn’t just fuck her senseless, he had to try and steal her heart too. It was so damn cold.
Tiff narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “I need you to leave now.”
Jax crossed the space between them with two big steps. He reached for Tiff’s hands, but she angled away from him. “I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. Come to my concert tonight. I can put you on the list.”
Put her on the list? Like she was one of his groupies? “No.”
Jax’s shoulders bunched up in a big sigh, and he scrubbed his hands through his messy hair. “Please, Tiff. Please. How I feel about you … about us. I know it’s crazy ….” Jax broke off and cleared his throat. “You have to know. This isn’t—”
“Enough,” Tiff said, cutting him off.
If he stayed much longer, Tiff’s resolve was going to crumble completely. Couldn’t he let her at least have enough dignity to leave this encounter with her head held high? Tiff made herself think of the facts: This man was a rockstar, a rockstar known for bedding as many women as he could. She’d heard it herself from Ashley; he had a bet going with the other Hart brothers to see who could sleep with the most women. And the worst truth of all: Jax hadn’t come after her last night when she’d run out. So everything he was saying now was a lie, there was no other option.
Tiff pulled the studio door open for Jax. Sunlight streamed through the door and pricked at Tiff’s already-sensitive skin. Outside, the birds chirped, the wind rustled the birch trees, and summer was full and beautiful. Tiff hated it all in that moment. She wanted darkness. She wanted to hide herself away and forget this morning had ever happened.
She could sense him behind her the split-second before she felt Jax’s hand on her arm. There was something desperate in the way he held onto her. Probably because he was so narcissistic that he couldn’t wrap his head around being rejected like this. Good. Maybe he’d be less careless with the other women he used in the future.
Jax’s voice raked against Tiff’s ear, full of pleading. Full of promise. Tiff wouldn’t look at him.
“Get dinner with me, after the show. We’re playing early tonight, and there’s this diner in town, do you know—”
“I know the one,” Tiff said, still focusing on anything other than Jax. His voice so intimate, his body so close to hers. If her nose was keen enough, Tiff knew she’d be able to smell herself on him. And him on her. She had to stay strong.
“Meet me there, after tonight’s show. Please, Tiff. There are things I need to explain to you, so much I want to talk about.”
Finally, Tiff let herself peek up at him. He was a head taller than Tiff, well over six feet, and if Tiff just moved a few inches closer she knew she’d fit perfectly against his body. Her skin and nerves longed for that contact, that connection, but Tiff held on tight to the edge of the studio door and didn’t move.
She nodded, after a moment. “Fine, I relent. I’ll meet you for dinner.”
Jax’s entire face broke into a beaming smile. No, his entire body smiled. He exhaled deeply. “Ten o’clock,” he said quickly, then he grasped her fingers between his own and brought her hand up to his lips. He pressed a warm kiss to Tiff’s knuckles, the back of her hand, then flipped her hand over to kiss the inside of her wrist. It took everything in Tiff to not sigh like a blushing schoolgirl.
Instead, she tugged her hand away and stepped back into the cool shadows of her studio. “Don’t you dare make me a fool, Jax Hart.”
Then she shut the door on his face.
Every space in the studio reminded Tiff of what had happened with Jax. The desk chair where he’d made her come for the first time; the wall where he’d pinned her body and drove himself into her; the floor where they’d lain together, their bodies curled into each other.
Tiff buried her head in her hands and made herself concentrate on breathing. She had work to do. She couldn’t sit in a daze in her studio and lose hours thinking about Jax. She shook her head in a vain attempt to rid herself of the man, but he was everywhere. He clung to her skin, was embedded in her muscles. Her heart seemed to beat his name.
“Enough,” Tiff said aloud to her tiny workspace. She focused on the open program on her Mac and tried to work. But it was useless. Tiff abruptly pushed away from her computer desk and stood. She stalked over to the work table in the corner and palmed a precision knife and a large, matte print she’d developed from a recent high school senior photo session. But instead of working on framing the photo—a pretty girl posed by a river—she flipped the knife back and forth between her palms and thought about how she’d handle Jax tonight.
Tiff had said she’d meet him for dinner, and she wasn’t one to break promises, but after that she needed to get away. It was unnerving how quickly that man had gotten under her skin, how quickly he consumed her. Jax did things to her no one else ever had. He brought out something in Tiff that nearly scared her. She’d been so unguarded with him, a man she barely knew.
Tiff laughed. She’d didn’t barely know him. He was a stranger. The only thing she knew about him was that he was good in bed.
Jeez. So good. Tiff pressed her thighs together, but it
just made the ache blooming in her grow hotter. The way he plunged himself into her, his body fitting so perfectly into hers. They seemed to have been made for each other, but that was ridiculous. He had a dick—a big dick—it’d fill up anyone.
And it had. It probably had last night after she’d fled the backstage area.
That was a sobering thought. It doused the sensations in her core and finally made her think straight. He was good in bed because he fucked anything that stood still long enough, not because he had some special feeling for her. And the quicker she accepted that—really accepted it—the better.
Tiff gave up working completely and grabbed her cell. She dialed Lacy without really thinking.
“Oh. My. God,” Lacy said instead of hello. “Girl, I have got to dish about last night. So Chase—”
“Wait, Lace,” Tiff interrupted. “I have a question first: Can you come up to the cabin with me this weekend? I need a girls’ weekend.”
Lacy didn’t answer for a moment. “Um, maybe? But for real, Tiff. For real. I had sex with Chase Hart last night.”
“I figured,” Tiff started.
“No, I mean, like the craziest sex of my life. Like, he put me in positions I had never even heard of. I can barely walk today. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah,” Tiff said, drawing the word out. Could she tell Lacy about what had just happened to her? The sad thing was, she was pretty sure Lacy wouldn’t believe her. That in itself said everything Tiff needed to know about Jax.
“Anyway, Chase gave me VIP tickets for tonight’s show, so I’m gearing up for round two. But you should come to the show with me again! Chase’s older brother, Dreary Drew, seems like he might be your type.”
Tiff was fairly sure that was a backhanded compliment. It stung like one, at least. “Actually,” she said, her tone a bit clipped. “I have a date tonight.”
Was it a date? Now that she thought about it, Jax had never actually said the word “date.”
