by Lane Hart
"So what's the plan for tonight?" Jude asks. "Ego?"
"He has the biggest," Page mutters softly, nodding to me. She's sunbathing next to me, lying on her back with her dark sunglasses covering her eyes.
"Yes he does, but I was actually asking if you want to go to Ego tonight. You know, the nightclub here?" Jude asks.
"You kids have fun shaking your asses," Dad says before he gets up from his lounge chair. "I'm turning in early."
"Can I drown in fruity drinks and gamble there too?" Page asks after my dad walks off, getting to a sitting position in her lounger. Today's cock tease consists of a black and hot pink polka dot material that barely covers the four gorgeous areas of her body.
"Sure can," Jude assures her.
"Then I'm in," she says. "Although, we should probably go soon and turn in early since we have court tomorrow."
Goddamn, I hate the reminder of that fucking guillotine blade hanging over my head.
"So we'll go at seven? Call it a night maybe around eleven?" Jude asks, looking between Page and me.
"Why do you even want to go?" I ask him. "It's not like you're gonna pick up any women."
"I can't go hang out and have fun with my brother and his attorney?" Jude scoffs. "Page will dance with me, won't you?"
"Sure, although, just to warn you, I have the rhythm and coordination of a newborn baby fawn," she tells him with a smile.
Screech.
That was the sound of my teeth meeting at the thought of his or anyone else's hands on Page.
"No way." Jude snickers. "I bet you're more like a baby giraffe since you're so tall."
"I'm in," I agree. If I'm there, no one will touch her, not even myself.
…
An hour later the three of us are sitting at the bar in Ego ordering a round of drinks. When I'm training for a fight, I usually avoid alcohol, but since I'm not and have no idea how long before that may ever happen again, I decide to go with a bottle of Budweiser Select. Page is throwing back drinks as quick as the bartender sets them down. Jude's staying sober, because, well he's only twenty.
"Woohoo, let's dance!" Page exclaims, sliding off her barstool and heading for the dance floor. It's early, so there's not a lot of people on the floor yet. Page doesn't seem deterred by that or act intimidated by all the attention on her.
"This should be fun," Jude says with a smile before he follows her.
I'm working really hard on trusting my brother on the whole Page issue, but it's still not easy to see the two wrapped around each other like pretzels, grinding to the beat of the loud music. The woman lied, she can dance, or at least she can move her hips in a way that's sexy enough to make me pant from a hundred feet away.
Tonight she's wearing a white strapless dress that makes her glow under the black lights of the dark club. She doesn't go unnoticed by the guys in attendance, either. That would be impossible with her perfect curves and long, gorgeous legs. Her blonde hair is styled in one single braid that falls over her right shoulder, and I'm sure I'm not the only one thinking about how I'd like to wrap it around my fist and yank on it while fucking her from behind.
With her back to me, I can tell that Jude's at least keeping his hands above the belt, so I probably won’t break them. Page's arms are wrapped around his neck, reminding me of how'd they'd felt yesterday when they were around me.
The longer I sit at the bar, the more I wonder why the fuck I'm torturing myself. I should just go back to my room and...what? The fact that I'm less miserable here, watching the woman I want but can't have dance with my brother than I would be if I weren't here, is disturbing. If I leave, I'll drive myself insane wondering who she's dancing with, how they touch her, and if she's going back to some random guy's room with him. Her fiancé seems to be far from her mind. The thought shouldn't make me as happy as it does. The asshole doesn't deserve her. She hasn't mentioned anything about him this weekend, but she's bound to have heard from him. Does he care that she's here? Is she going to wise up and end things with that asshole?
While I'm arguing with myself, Jude walks back up, swiping at the sweat running down his forehead.
"Can I get a water?" he asks the bartender.
"Where's Page?" I ask, looking back out on the floor.
"Chill, she's in the bathroom, probably mopping up her own sweat," he replies. "Did you see the woman's moves? She was trying to kill me."
"Mm-hmm," I mutter, unable to stop myself from seeking her out anyways.
After Jude guzzles half of his glass of water, he turns to me, and asks, "So, you just gonna sit here all night like a bump on a log?"
"Maybe."
"Well, don't expect her to...uh-oh," he gasps.
"What?" I ask, following his gaze across the room.
"I'm not sure, but...is that Page?" he asks.
"Where?"
"On top of that table?"
On a table? What the fuck?
A sexy woman in a white dress is dancing provocatively on a mini-circular stage off to the side of the dance floor. I don't know whether I want to jerk her off there and throw her over my shoulder, or, well...keep watching. Knowing I'm not the only one watching is what seals the deal on my decision.
I take off in her direction, pissed at her for letting other guys see her this way, and incensed that I even fucking care. Why does this woman affect me like this? Is it because I'm just horny and want to fuck her? No, it's more than that. As I watch her gyrate several feet up in the air, I realize that she means more to me than a quick fuck. I'm driven by this unfamiliar need to just be near her and take care of her. And hell, in return I think I actually want her to take care of me. Not that I'd ever admit that shit to anyone.
It's becoming clear from my viewpoint that Page either isn't wearing any panties, or they are minuscule since her ass is practically hanging out. I can't help but wince when I see the jelly sting welts.
"What happened to your sweet little ass, baby?" the jackass next to me asks Page loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Jellyfish," she yells back.
"I bet I could kiss it and make it better," the Jersey Shore wannabe says.
"I bet I could leave you permanently disabled before you can blink," I warn him.
His eyes widen when he finally faces me. Page is taller than this shrimp. Without another word, he turns and leaves.
"Go away, Jax," Page shouts without turning around, her arms still moving above her head, her hips fucking hypnotic.
"Page," I yell over the music, trying to get her attention. "Page!"
No response. I thought we could do this the easy way, I'd ask her to get down, she'd agree, and we'd be good. I should've known better after the three drinks she downed in the span of five minutes.
"Page, get your ass down!"
"No!" she shouts. "Stop scaring guys away, you big jerk!"
Fine, if she won't come down then I'll go up since I can't yank her down by her ankle without hurting her. I grip the edge of the small stage, pulling myself up on it, and then get to my feet.
Finally doing what I've wanted to all night, I grab Page's hips and pull her flush against me, wedging my knee between her legs.
"W-what are you doing?" Page stutters or slurs as her body stiffens up.
"Dancing with you," I whisper against her ear.
"Why?" she asks. "So no one else can?"
"Yes."
Finally relaxing, she wraps her arms around my neck.
…
Page
The room feels like it's spinning around me, but I'm not sure if it's an effect of alcohol or Jax's close proximity.
His warm, hard body is pressed tightly against mine, and he smells so freaking good. Even though I have no clue why he decided to climb up here and dance with me, I take advantage of the moment and lay my head on his shoulder. Jax's arms around me tighten in response like he approves. I never know with him. This whole weekend has felt like a crazy, emotional roller coaster. At the moment I can feel us teeteri
ng at the top, right before the sudden drop-off.
"I like the braid," he says against my ear. "But I'd give anything to see you with your hair down."
I'm taken aback and not sure how to respond to his statement. There's no doubt in my mind that I'm deep into conflict of interest territory. I haven't told Jax yet, but tomorrow I'll go to court with him and give a limited notice of appearance just for his arraignment. After that, I have no choice but to bow out and let another attorney take over his case. I'll still help out, doing what I can, but I'm not capable experience wise or emotionally to represent him in his trial. I have another small reason for withdrawing, although I'm not getting my hopes up that anything will happen between us once I'm no longer representing him.
"I'm thinking about turning over your case to someone else," I eventually get my nerve up and tell Jax. He goes still, and I brace myself for his reaction.
"No."
I wait for more, but nothing else follows. That's it? Just no?
"Um, yes, I am."
"No," he says pushing me back to see my face. "I need you to get me through this."
"But-"
"No buts," he says, cutting me off. "Don't even think about it."
"There's a conflict, Jax-" I start and he interrupts.
"Look, Page, nothing is ever going to happen between the two of us, so there's no reason for you to quit."
Whoa! His words are like a slap to my face. "Then what the heck are you doing up here with me? I'm not an idiot. I know what a hard cock feels like."
"That-that's just biology, plain and simple. And maybe I'm up here with you because I don't want to see my attorney get hammered and then fucked over by some asshole the night before I have court."
I gasp at his insinuation that I would do something stupid to jeopardize his case. That's why I'm trying to get out of it.
"Screw you, Jax," I say, even as my eyes start to sting. I turn around to sit on the platform and jump down to the dance floor. I can't stand to look at that infuriating man another second.
"Whoa, Page, what's wrong?" Jude asks as I storm past him and head for the elevator bank. I dive into one just before the door shuts, but Jude's right behind me and strong arms it open to slide in at the last second.
"I really wish you didn't look so much like your brother," I tell him before a stupid tear trickles down my cheek.
"Sorry," Jude says. "I put the blame completely on our parents."
Ignoring the three other people on the elevator with us, he pulls me in for a hug and a few more tears escape.
"What'd my pain in the ass brother do now?" he asks.
"He doesn't want me, even if I get out of the case," I say softly into his shirt.
"I find that very hard to believe," he replies. "He never takes his eyes off of you. I'm telling you, Page, he's seconds away from slamming you against a wall and fucking you."
"Jude!" I exclaim before apologizing to the other hotel guests. I’m more than thankful when we get off on the eighth floor.
"It's true," he says as we walk down the hall to our rooms.
"Only because he's horny and I've been throwing myself at him."
"Ha!" He barks out a laugh. "Okay, I know my own brother. If Jax were horny, he would've been fucking women all weekend. Last night he turned down so many I lost count."
"He did?" I ask in surprise. "Well, I'm sure it's because of his trial. He's trying not to get caught in any more drama."
"Do you really think that would stop him? I don’t. He's hung up on you, and no one else will do. I can tell by the way he completely ignores other women. That's not Jax. Usually, he'll size up every room he enters trying to decide who he wants to fuck. There are always more choices than Baskin Robbins, but lately, it's you and only you."
I shake my head and stop outside my door to pull my keycard from my cleavage.
"That was a really awesome thing to witness," Jude jokes. "Now go get some sleep and then tomorrow act like you could care less about him. It'll drive the arrogant bastard crazy. Watch and see, I’ll bet you a pack of double stuffed Oreos that I'm right," he says with a smile.
"You're on," I agree. "Goodnight, Jude."
"'Night.”
Chapter Nine
Page
After a weekend of drinking, sunbathing, and gambling, all while enduring the presence of the hottest man on the planet telling me he doesn't want me, I can’t wait to go to court and get this over with.
It's early Monday morning, and I'm ready right on time. I grab my keycard and shoulder bag, then head for the lobby to meet up with the guys to head to the courthouse. I'd just pulled my room door shut when I hear my name.
"Page?" Jax says from behind me, causing me to jump.
"Sheesh, you scared me!" I tell him, turning around to face the man who had just given me a freaking heart attack. No, wait, I think seeing him in a dark suit, crisp white dress shirt and blue tie might be what actually does me in. The man is gorgeous in jeans and a tee, but in a suit, Lord have mercy.
"Goddamn," Jax mutters, his eyes roaming over my sleeveless cerulean dress that's a little more slutty than professional, but I want to look good for all the judgmental talking head pricks. Oh, and how cute, the two of us match yet again.
"I'm about to be broadcast and talked about across the country," I explain, running my fingers through the long curls that took me forever to get just right. I didn't wear my hair down for him, I just wanted to do something different with it.
"Were you going for the Instant Boner Professional Chic look?" he asks, making me laugh. "If so, you nailed it."
"Funny, but that's enough, Jax," I warn him. "You've got to stop looking at me like that, too. Cameras are going to be watching your every little move today."
"And how exactly am I looking at you?" He stalks forward like a hungry predator until he's only a foot away from me.
"I don't know, just ...that way," I say, gesturing in the general direction of his face.
"What way?" he asks innocently, contradicting that notion when his tongue wets his bottom lip. "Like you're a berry flavored Tootsie Roll pop, and I want to yank your...wrapper off to find out exactly how many licks it takes to get to your center?"
My breath whooshes out of my lungs, and my blood is boiling. I'm so hot I'm melting from the inside out.
"Um, yeah, I was thinking more along the lines of you licking the bottom of a Ben & Jerry's container but your, ah, Tootsie pop analogy works pretty well too," I ramble, pushing my hair nervously behind an ear and keeping my eyes on the carpet instead of on his liquid lava pools. "Either way, you need to um, stop because it's…inappropriate, and the, ah...the paparazzi will flip out..."
"Then we better do something about it before we get to the courthouse."
I lift my head in confusion, and his heated stare fogs up my brain even more arousal than his naughty words.
"Ah, what?" I ask.
I gasp when my back suddenly hits the room door. Jax's massive, carved from granite body is pressed deliciously against mine before I even notice he'd moved. His erection pokes all thick and hard into my abdomen, and I barely suppress a needy whimper. My traitorous arms wrap around his back, pulling him even closer to smell his clean, masculine scent.
"I'm thirty seconds away from finding out just how many licks of my tongue it'll take to get you off. If I can do it in less than fifty, you're going to fuck me. Less than forty, you're going to suck me. Deal?" he asks while brushing his lips over my ear. I can't think with him rubbing both of his warm hands slowly up the back my thighs, underneath my dress, and I realize I've been holding my breath.
"Yes," I moan in an exhale when a shiver causes my body to undulate against his, pulling a groan from Jax that I feel rumble out of his chest.
"Key?"
"What?" I ask uncomprehending.
"Come on, Page. I need your room key now before I drop to my knees and go down on you right here in the middle of this fucking hallway."
"Oh," I reply i
n understanding with another shiver, then reach into my briefcase to pull the plastic card out with a shaky hand. Jax jerks it from me and does it himself when I take too long. A second later my feet leave the floor, and he's carrying me inside my room, the door slamming shut behind us.
"Wait," I say flattening a palm to his heaving chest. Jax freezes but then puts me down. My bag falls from my shoulder to the floor, forgotten. "I thought…you said you weren't interested…"
"I'd fail that polygraph because I was lying like a motherfucker," Jax says.
"I don't want to just be a means to an end because you're horny," I tell him.
"I'm desperate for you and only you, princess," he replies, making my knees even weaker. Picking me back up he doesn't stop again until he's lowering me to the bed, his lips crashing down on mine an instant before our tongues caress each other's, hot and urgent. One of his hands goes under my dress, yanking my panties down and flinging them to the floor.
"Start counting," he says when he slides down my body and spreads my thighs wide open.
The first lick of his wet tongue on my flesh has my hips levitating off the mattress and a cry of pleasure escaping my throat.
"Count or I'll have to stop after each one to do it for you," he warns.
"Wh-one," I force myself to say so he'll keep going. "Oh God, two. Three! Yes!" I'm about to combust from the incredible ecstasy pumping through my body caused by his rapidly swirling tongue. "Four, five, six, ohhh seven!" My entire body shakes from the building pressure. It's almost too much for me to handle, but the tight grip of his hands on my thighs hold me captive.
"EIGHT! Oh, fuck!" I yell to the ceiling and thrash when his fingers penetrate me while he keeps lapping at me. It's too good. Too much. "Nine! Oh Godddd, nine. TEN, eleven, twelve! Ah! Thirteen! Four…AH YES!" is the last coherent thought I have when my orgasm tears through me like a hurricane, leaving nothing but complete destruction behind. Instead of stopping, Jax keeps right on going. It's like he's finally speaking the native tongue of my pussy, the one it's been craving and needing my whole life. The next time I come I yell out Jax's name in praise and gratitude rather than a number.
