Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  “See your grouping of shots?” He asks me, his voice flat.

  I nod, and then realize hurriedly that Jax can’t see me. His attention is focused dead ahead, on the barrel. His focus is unflinching, and unblinking. It’s kind of scary.

  “Yeah, I see it.”

  “I’m going to hit just above.”

  The second the words finish pouring out of his mouth, Jax pulls the trigger. There’s no waiting around, like with me. The rifle barely jerks in his powerful hands, but a ringing sound resounds around the desert.

  I peer into the distance. Jax was as good as his word. Another small black hole now peppers the barrel – just above my own messy collection.

  “Do you see that rock?” Jax grunts. The barrel twitches, moving a couple of inches upward. “About ninety yards out.”

  “Yes.”

  Jax doesn’t say another word. His finger tightens on the trigger, and a puff of dust flies out like a cloud above the sandy rock. I watch, mesmerized, as Jax raises the barrel another couple of inches, aiming at a spot even further in the distance. I wouldn’t be able to hit a house from that far out, let alone a tiny mound on top of the ground.

  “When I joined the Navy,” Jax says, his voice dead. “It was because I didn’t have anything else in my life: no family; no money; no life. It was an opportunity, and I took it. I have never regretted it.”

  The rifle jerks, and a patch of ground puffs almost a hundred yards away. “I had some of the best years of my life,” Jax continues, rifle moving in a silent ballet. “I visited God knows how many countries, made even more friends – but you know something?”

  “What, Jax?” I whisper. I’m entranced by his movement, drunk on his voice. I don’t want to say anything in case it breaks the spell. I feel like Jax is letting me in, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin it.

  “Those first two years – they were great, but they were empty. Just running, shooting, drinking, fucking…”

  I wince at the thought of Jax being with any other woman. It’s silly, I know – he didn’t even know me back then – but it still hurts. I know he’s not saying it to wound me. Jax isn’t that kind of guy. If he wants to hurt someone, he knows a hundred ways and none of them include words.

  “But it was all a load of crap until I met you, Alex,” he says. The rifle jerks, and a fencepost disintegrates. I don’t even want to guess how far out it is. I know that I couldn’t make that shot if someone offered me a million dollars. “I just replaced one kind of loneliness with another.”

  All I can think about, however, is that Jax has two shots left in that gun. I don’t know why, but I can’t take my eyes off this demonstration.

  “And then there you were,” Jack says. The rifle barks. I see a spark in the distance as the bullet bounces off something – a rock, maybe. “And everything felt okay –”

  “And then I wasn’t …” I say. It feels odd to be talking after staying silent for so long. Jax doesn’t turn. He’s got one round left in that rifle.

  Jax nods, his cheek brushing against the old weapon’s polished stock. “And then you weren’t,” he agrees. “You want to know something? I was a decent SEAL those first two years. I mean – SEALs have to be a cut above the regular grunt to even make the cut for training. But as far as SEALs go, I was middle of the road: better than some; not quite as good as others.”

  I don’t know where Jax is going with this, but I can’t stop listening. I’m barely breathing, held spellbound by his story. I feel like I’m staring at a King Cobra – watching, mesmerized, by its dangerous , silky dance, but knowing that looking away would be a recipe for disaster.

  “But after you pushed me away, something inside me changed.. I became angry. In the field, nothing could stand in my way. I became quicker, more aggressive. This fire burned inside me. Every time I saw a man’s face in my sights, I saw your face instead. And … I killed you, Alex,” Jax growls.

  His finger caresses the trigger. His cheeks are tense and grim, and his shoulders are trembling – though the rifle is completely still in his hands. I shiver. If I close my eyes– just a fraction – I can picture Jax on the battlefield. It’s a terrifying thought.

  “I killed you a dozen times: more. Every time you fell, it didn’t do a damn thing to put out the blaze. Hell, it threw gas on the flames. I pulled the trigger – again and again,” he says, finger stroking the tiny piece of metal, “and I killed America’s enemies – again and again.”

  Jackson loosens his grip on the rifle. He pulls the bolt back, and taps the weapon, and a single, unfired bullet flies out. He catches it in his palm, closes his knuckles around it, and brings the rifle back to the ground. Its wooden stock settles in the dust.

  “So when they handed me that piece of paper,” Jax growls, eyes back and locked on mine. “The one that would sign me up for six more years – I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I’m good at what I do, Alex. There aren’t many better; but all of it was driven by anger. I don’t need that in my life.”

  Jax lifts his arm up – the one holding the bullet. His palm faces down, towards the rocky earth. He raises it parallel to the ground.

  “So I left the service,” Jax says. “I came looking for you. I don’t know how you ended up in that trailer. I don’t know if fate is behind it, if you are just the luckiest girl in hell – or whether something else is happening altogether. But when I saw you lying there, and I pulled that black hood off your head – do you know what I felt?”

  I shake my head. My mouth is dry, throat clenched. I don’t know if I can speak. I want to, God how I want to, but I don’t know if my body will let me. I force the word out of my mouth. “What?” I rasp.

  “Relief,” and Jax smiles. He turns his hand over, and uncurls his fingers. The bullet lies flat on his palm. “Not anger, not sadness, not fear; only relief. I was just Goddamn grateful that the world, or someone up there, gave me a second chance.”

  His arm shivers, and the bullet arcs through the air between us. My eyes trace its path. The light beaming from the truck’s headlights glitters off its casing. I reach out to catch it. I never was much of a sportswoman. My talents were always in the classroom, not outside it. But this time, my hand reaches for it unerringly. I catch the round, and bring it into my chest. It feels heavier than it has any right to.

  “Thanks,” I croak. I’ve got a half-smile on my cheeks, tears in my eyes, I feel like I’m about to sniff. I can’t see myself, but I’m pretty sure I’ve looked better. “You ass; I guess it’s my turn to go all Braveheart, is it?”

  Jax grins. It’s nice to see a smile on his face again. I’m not used to seeing him so serious. “You don’t need to say a damn thing, girl,” he growls.

  I almost don’t. I almost take the rope Jax is offering me, and pull myself away from danger. But I stop myself dead. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head, and squeezing my fingers around the bullet. “You’re wrong. I do. You need to know what’s going on.”

  The desert is still and silent between us. My ears have stopped ringing after the rattle of gunfire. “Do you know what my parents did?” I ask.

  My eyes trace Jax’s jaw as I wait for his answer. I look at his chiseled face, his messy blonde hair, and I wish that this could all have been different. I wish that we didn’t have to make up right before our own personal Alamo. He shakes his head.

  “I thought daddy was just a businessman, you know?” I say. “All that time, while growing up, I never questioned why we always had the nicest cars; where mom got the money to redo the kitchen every couple of years; why there were always big, burly men hanging around the house.”

  Jax’s eyebrows tent, ever so slightly. I know he’s worked out where I’m going with this explanation.

  “It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I really found out. Dad laundered money for the Italian Mafia. Only, he got greedy. He started doing it for the Mexicans as well. I guess neither one of them appreciates anyone who plays both sides.”

  “What hap
pened?” Jax breathes.

  “I got home one day, and there was blood everywhere,” I say, closing my eyes. I can picture it now: my chest cramps; my stomach twists; I see the images as though they are painted on the back of my eyelids. “It was on the walls; on the floor. Mom’s body lay slumped over the dining room table…”

  “Alex. I’m sorry,” Jax says, stepping forward, towards me. He rests the rifle against his truck.

  “Don’t be,” I say. “They made their bed, and I guess they’ll lie in it forever.”

  Jax takes another pace forward. “But why –?”

  “But why me?” I say, letting out a bitter laugh. “Why was I in that trailer? It’s because there’s a price on my head. The Italians were just happy that mom and dad were dead. But the Mexicans – the Templars? They are more the salt of the earth type; you know, pour salt on the ground to ruin it. They put a price on my head.”

  “For your death?” Jax asks, taking me in his arms. I cling to him, fingers still closed tight around the bullet. I shake my head against his chest.

  “No,” I whisper. “They sent me a picture – of half a dozen women locked in a filthy room, all chained to the walls. Their eyes, Jax: there was nothing left in them. Those poor girls –.”

  I break off. I can’t speak. The terror of the last six months is catching up to me. Running, hiding, capture: it all hits me at once.

  “I’ll never let that happen, Alex,” Jax growls. There’s anger in his voice – a threat to anyone that plans to hurt me. I want to believe him, so desperately. “Trust me. I’d rather die than see you hurt. These people – the Templars – they’re going to find out what happens when they threaten the girl I –.”

  Jax pauses. The word sticks in his throat. I know what it is, I just don’t believe it.

  “… ‘The girl you –’, what, Jax?” I whisper.

  Jax pulls his head back. His lips graze mine. Just before he kisses me, he whispers four words. “The girl I love.”

  Chapter 6

  Alex

  Before I know it, I’m inside the cabin. I cling to Jax’s powerful body. My arm latches around his shoulders, and he carries me with one arm, and the rifle in the other. I’m still reeling from what he just said – mentally and emotionally off balance. Jax’s body is the only thing keeping me level, and even then, just barely. Jax – of course – has the presence of mind to bring the gun in as well.

  I press my lips against his. I kiss Jax so hard that there’s no way he can open his mouth. I know what I just heard: that he loves me. If that’s true, it means he hasn’t stopped loving me all this time: for these last four years. I just can’t bring myself to believe it. I feel like if I let him breathe, if I let him open his mouth, he might take it back, and I don’t think that I can face that blow.

  Jax tears his lips away from mine. His voice is hoarse and throaty. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks, “After everything that’s happened?”

  His eyes trace every contour and crease on my face. I watch, entranced, as they sweep from my lips to my nose, across my cheeks, and settle on my eyes. Jax’s icy gray eyes fix on mine, and nothing can tear them away. I’m paralyzed for a second after he speaks, dreading what I’ll hear. It takes me a second to realize that he’s not denying what he said. He’s not taking it back.

  I nod. Our faces are so close together that my nose brushes against Jax’s cheeks as my head bounces up and down.

  “I do. I want this more than anything,” I whisper. “I don’t want to regret not doing this, not seizing on to the moment – onto you – when I had the chance. If this is the last time we ever have together, then I want to make it count.”

  Jax’s chest grumbles. “I told you, Alex,” he says, his voice hoarse in my ear, “I’m not letting anything happen to you. I don’t care how many men the Mexicans send after you, because now, they’re sending them after us. And – you know what – I don’t care how many kids these gang bangers have mown down. They’ve never come after a Marine, let alone a goddamn Navy SEAL.”

  I look up at Jax as he throws me down onto the thin mattress. My mouth kicks up into a smile. “I don’t know whether to salute you, or sing Stars & Stripes Forever …” I grin.

  Jax falls on top of me, crawling over my body. “Let’s pick door three,” he mumbles. And that’s the last thing he says.

  I pull my T-shirt off. I’m just wearing an everyday bra underneath it. It’s pink and frayed – hell, the wire might even be showing. I couldn’t care less, and judging by the fire in Jax’s eyes, neither can he. The springs in the mattress press up and dig into my back, but that doesn’t bother me either. This tiny, decaying old cabin might as well be the Ritz. I don’t care where I am, as long as Jax is by my side.

  I tug at Jax’s belt as he pulls his own T-shirt over his body. I let out a shocked breath when it falls to the floor. His body is cut and scarred. It wasn’t like this four years ago – at least, not nearly this bad. My finger traces a white, hard patch of scar tissue.

  “What happened?” I whisper.

  Jax grins. “Classified,” he chuckles. “I could tell you, but –.”

  I raise one eyebrow. “Then you’d have to kill me?”

  Jax shakes his head. His eyes hold mine – just for a second – but it doesn’t take long before they drop down to my breasts. “Nah; that would be way too corny… I’ll settle for screwing you.”

  I don’t know why, but that comment seems to electrify the room. Maybe it’s just that finally one of us has acknowledged what’s going on – that this is actually happening, after so long apart. The metal buckle of Jax’s brown leather belt tinkles as I finally pull it loose, and my one-time, now-again lover collapses on top of me. He makes a tent out of his body, holding himself up with two thick, powerful arms, and letting his hips sink over mine. I feel the heat radiating off his cock. I bite my lip. Every time I blink, I fear that Jax might just up and disappear.

  “I don’t have any protection,” Jax growls.

  I shrug. “Well, I’m not on the pill. Hell, I haven’t even gotten laid since –.” I tail off, almost embarrassed to say.

  “Since we last –?” Jax finishes wonderingly. His eyes rake my body. The warmth of my embarrassment seems to spread everywhere his gaze touches.

  I nod. My cheeks flush with heat. “It’s been kind of hard to find the time, after everything that’s happened.”

  “I’m clean,” Jax says. “Navy gave me a clean full bill of health when they discharged me.”

  I let my fingers do the talking. I reach for Jax’s cock, tangling with the elastic of his boxer shorts. When my hand closes around his stiffening cock, Jax lets out a tiny breath of satisfaction. “That’s good enough for me,” I whisper.

  Jax dips his mouth to mine. The kiss is fierce and intense. It steals the breath from my lungs. Jax smells like gunpowder, oil and sweat: so damn perfect it hurts. His body presses against my bare stomach, and our heat melts together. Electricity crackles on my skin. Every time Jax moves, it sparks, and I flinch.

  Jax holds himself up with one arm. The other snakes around my body and unclips my bra with one swift, easy movement. He pulls up for a second, and I look up at him, panting. A smile tickles his lips. “Still got it,” he crows.

  I grab the back of his head and pull him back down towards me. Somehow Jax manages to toss my bra aside in the movement. “Enough showing off,” I growl, biting his lip. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  Making a comment like that stokes the forecer smoldering embers of embarrassment, sizzling my face once again. The heat competes with the flames growing between my legs. It’s been too long since I’ve talked dirty.

  “Yes ma’am,” Jax grins, tucking his lips back and giving me a mock salute. “Your wish is my command.”

  Jax kicks off his jeans, boxers, and his boots, then drags my black jeans down my legs. The desert’s cool air bites against my skin now that the fire in the wood stove is almost out. I wait for Jax to warm me back up. I don’t h
ave to wait that long.

  Jax’s palm grinds against my pussy. My hips buck as I push up into him. I’m shameless with my desire. I need Jax, now, and I won’t take no for an answer. His thick,heavy cock stands proudly in the space between us. I pull my panties down to mid-thigh, and Jax does the rest of the work. They end up with everything else: in a pile on the floor. My pussy is dripping wet. I’m not clipped, trimmed, or shaved for him – down there – but he doesn’t care. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

  “Now,” I whisper, forcing my gaze up and away from his perfect abs. We stare into each other’s eyes as Jax presses his cock inside me. I gasp as his heat meets mine. I didn’t remember him being so big. He’s stretching me in ways I didn’t know were possible. Jax isn’t even fully in, and already it feels like my hips might not fall wide enough to take him.

  My fingers travel down my body and play with the bundle of nerves that’s sparking with pleasure every time Jax trembles. He watches what I’m doing, and his eyes fill with a potent mix of desire and need.

  Jax presses himself hip deep inside me, and my head tips back. I let out a whisper as my lungs empty of air. I want to breathe. I need to breathe. But there’s so much more I want to focus on.

  Every muscle in my legs seems to have chosen this moment to start tensing up randomly. Every time Jax thrusts inside me, my toes curl, like little fists. He grabs the back of my neck with his palm and holds me tight, and thrusts into me harder, faster, and deeper. I can’t escape, not that I plan on trying. I’m locked in a prison built by my own body and the pleasure Jax is layering on me.

  I grab Jax’s back, digging my nails into his skin. His breathing is heavy, slow and rhythmic. I clench my pussy around his cock, squeezing it – and the breath catches in Jax’s throat. The tiny sound excites me. It reminds me of how much power I have over the man inside me. No matter how strong he is, or how powerful, he can’t do this on his own. I can make him do things – feel things – he never could alone. And Jax does the same for me.