She was no longer making sense, which I took as my cue to end this little meet-and-greet.
"We need to open, Beth," I reminded her, moving to get aprons and such.
"Oh, yeah. Right," she breathed again, making her way around the large farmhouse table in the center of the space.
Jax was watching her warily as she moved, keeping close to my side, like she was going to bite him or something.
"And, uh, Beth?" I asked as she moved away. "Break out the 10% off coupons for the people I've kept waiting, okay?
"Sure, Lacey," she mumbled.
As soon as her ass cleared the doors, I was in his face. His very white, very stony face.
"Look at me," I demanded on a whisper. He didn't. I placed my hand on his chin and used it to pull his face towards mine. "It's all good, Jax. It's just you and me in the kitchen at my bakery, right? We're going to bake some magic, honey. Just you and me, alright?"
His eyes finally cleared and I got a shaky grin.
"Yeah, Lace. You and me. Kitchen. Doing the baking thing. Got it," he growled after a time.
"Good," I smiled as I reached into the cabinet to get the aprons and such. "Call Grams so she won't worry then let's get started."
It took more than a few minutes until he calmed down, his movements evening out as we worked together like we had in the quiet of the morning before. I didn't have to give him many directions, and he didn't ask as many questions yet it was just as wonderful to have him there in my space.
He prepared the pans and sheets. I mixed and poured. He washed and I wiped, a dance of sorts; a dance of grazing touches and lush, short kisses as we moved.
In the lull, as I moved the trays out into the retail space, I kept us in cups of coffee.
"Lacey?" I heard Sarge bellow as he came into the shop.
"Back here," I yelled back, shaking the black-dyed sugar crystals through the plastic form, creating a lace pattern on the recently frosted, white-iced cupcakes.
"Magic," I heard Jax breathe as he watched.
"I know, right?" I shot back quietly, eying the line of pretties on the counter.
"I'm Audi," Beth said, as she preceded Sarge into the now very cramped space of the kitchen.
I'd never heard Beth announce her leaving in quite such a way before. The lip gloss that she'd obviously drizzled on before she swung through the doors was a new thing, too.
Jax fever.
She obviously had a case of Jax fever.
"Beth? Could you handle the store tomorrow?" I asked, but I was looking at Jack. His eyes were still on the cupcakes, but he must have felt something from me since his eyes made their way to mine. "I might be busy."
His face split into that beautiful, wonderful smile as his eyes flared.
"Yeah, sweetie, glad to," I heard her say as she began to move away. "It was nice to meet you…uhm…er."
"You, too," I heard Jax say, however we were still stuck in our own eye-glue.
"Lace?" I heard Sarge rumble and knew we had another hurdle to cross.
*.*.*.*.*
He watched Lace as she removed her shower cap thing and the apron before sliding behind the behemoth that filled the doorway who was giving him the eye.
"Gotta work the floor, honey," she'd advised before she moved away.
"Who are you?" the large man questioned and Jax felt his stomach drop to his knees. Was it better to be known or unknown?
"Uh, I'm…I'm Jax," he said before he straightened up from his lean against the counter and shoved a hand out to the man.
He wasn't a small guy by any means, but the skin-headed, older fellow in front of him topped him by at least four inches, his face jewelry catching the lights of the tiny kitchen. Jax felt his large hand enveloped by the much larger paw of the guy with the crazy, braided beard.
"Sarge," the older man growled. "Heard you dropped off the face of the earth, Slugger."
Shit. The old guy recognized him, too.
"I wish," Jax replied.
"Been there," the man replied with a snort and donned an apron. Instead of a cap, Sarge grabbed a surgical mask and tidily slipped it on, tucking his long beard into it. "Did my time with the 'Wastrels' before moving on to 'Nothing But Ashes' in the eighties."
Shit, was everyone in this fucking town an ex-rocker?
"You with Lace?" Sarge asked, moving things around, pulling cake pans out of the fridge and setting up some kind of stands on the large table in the middle.
"Trying to be," Jax admitted. "Can I help?"
"You know anything about frosting?" Sarge shot back.
"No, sir," Jax answered and felt the heat in his face. "I'm good at learning, though."
The older man shot him a half-grin before growling, "Then, let's fuckin' hit, Slugger."
"Language!" they heard Lacey bark from the front of the store.
"Oh, yeah. Lace don't allow no swear words, clear?" Sarge said, bumping Jax's shoulder as he moved around the workbench.
Jax did a chin lift and then followed Sarge's directions as they begin mixing the different frostings for the cakes.
Sarge was a good name for the man, since he could instruct then correct, Jax's clumsy efforts with short, concise sentences. He directed Jax as he tried to wield a 'frosting knife', smoothing it again and again until it was a shiny, smooth, no-knife-mark layer on a cake. He learned how to get the stream of sugary goodness that came out of the steel-tipped bag as he squeezed in an even, smooth flow onto the different sweet smelling slabs. If it wasn't good enough, Sarge simply scraped it off and told him to try again.
On one hand it felt like he'd been stuck in that tiny, fragrant kitchen for-fucking-ever, yet on the other, just minutes, as he reviewed the results of all their work spread out on the table.
And standing back to survey, Jax was proud of what he saw, what he'd created.
He heard the volume of the stereo increase before Lacey came back through the doors.
"Done, honey!" she yelled as she made her way straight towards him, winding herself under his arms and pressing her head against his chest. She looked over the table as she rubbed his back with both arms.
"Nice," she breathed, perusing the full array of treats, before tilting her head up to his and planting a kiss on the underside of his chin, her arms squeezing.
He glanced at Sarge and saw the old guy was smiling but his eyes were studiously aimed towards the small window over the sink.
"We can take it from here, Sarge, if you need to get going," she offered, disentangling herself and beginning to reach for the different containers to store all the goods the men had completed.
"Sure thing, Lace," the man grumbled removing his headgear and the apron. "I'll lock up the front."
"Nice to meet you, Sarge," Jax said slowly, reaching out a hand to, this time, sincerely shake the large paw of the bear-man he'd spent the afternoon with. The older man released but shot his hand back out for a fist bump.
"Liked your music, dude. Like the man even more. Take care of her, yeah?" Sarge said, holding Jax's hand and the younger man felt his heart swell at the frank words.
"Yeah, man. I'll try," Jax murmured, his eyes drifting to his girl.
Both Lacey and Jax were still as they heard the different doors slam and locks being thrown before a deep-throated thrum vibrated the kitchen as Sarge left on what was obviously some kind of big-ass motorcycle.
It only took seconds and they were in a lip-lock, tongues again dueling, hands stroking then clutching as they let their passion from this morning come back to the forefront. He felt her yank the cap and the paper hat off his head with one hand as she untied the apron strings at his back, as his hands roamed and reached for her ass.
Christ.
So fucking hot.
"Jax," she breathed, breaking away after a while. A long while, if the truth were known. "Help me, honey. Help me get all this stuff put away, then…"
He pulled up. "Then?"
"Oh, yeah," he heard her whisper and saw that li
ght, that oh-please-fuck-me light, in her eyes again.
His cock flexed hard with that look.
With just the light in her frosted, blue eyes.
Chapter 12
They finally finished putting everything away and he watched as Lacey carefully placed the remote for the stereo on the windowsill after she'd turned everything off except the lights in the cases.
Things had slowed down between them, the air now shimmering with just tension. A promise of things to come.
Which was almost more heartfelt than the heat of their earlier kisses and touches.
"Ready?" she asked in the quiet, opening the door between the shop and the small hall that led to the stairs.
Was he ready?
Was he prepared to be with this girl, his delightful girl, in a way that was sure to mean something to them both; something they would both look at later in memory?
He felt his palms begin to sweat as he followed her slowly up the stairs, her glances over her shoulder almost making him shiver.
Could he do this?
Damn, he'd never deliberately wanted to please a woman before. Not that anyone had ever complained about his technique, except he hadn't ever even considered if he was doing things right.
In bed.
Not ever.
But, he'd never wondered because he could always tell they were touching, fucking a 'star'.
Not Jax, not him. The himself of him.
They made it upstairs and through the door into her small kitchen.
"Uhm," she started, shoving her hands in her back pockets. "I don't know how to start…er. Couch or bed?"
He heard her. Heard her tone as well as her question.
She was as unsure as he was.
Fucking hell.
Wait. That was good, right?
Two people nervous wasn't necessarily a bad thing, when you thought about it.
He gathered her in his arms, pressing her head against his chest, loving that she wasn't crawling all over him. His heart was full, knowing that he wasn't going to be her 'tool', just a driving force she could admit she'd 'bagged' to her friends.
"Lacey? Baby?" he began, not really knowing how to put his thoughts into words. "It's just me and you. Whatever you want, where ever you want, okay? I just want to be with you. In whichever way you want."
But, his stomach twisted thinking that she could, if she wanted to, send him down the stairs and outside.
"For as long as you want," he continued, and it must be said that this last bit, this last portion was said on a tight whisper.
His hands had been roaming her tense back as he spoke, though when he ended, he felt the tension leave her body.
"Lace? We don't have to do anything…" he began.
"Shhh," she interrupted. "Just give me a sec, Jack, okay?"
He stopped and took in the quiet moments to simply enjoy the feel of her against him.
"Okay, bedroom. I just want to warn you that I've not done this often," she said. He heard her thick swallow in the filtered light reflecting through the windows of her living room.
"Baby," he replied quickly. Oh fuck, she was feeling the pressure of the groupies, too. "No, Lace."
She whipped her head off his chest quickly, staring up at him with those clean, pristine bottomless eyes when he spoke.
He hurried to assure her, at least, as much as he was able.
"I want you. Goddamn, Lacey, I want you so much," he admitted. He didn't know how to calm her fears, the fear he'd heard in her voice before. He saw it in her eyes, a deep movement behind the crystalline depths, a fear that was so unfounded, so unnecessary.
He'd seen a look of measurement, of her trying to imagine what he'd had before and finding herself not good enough. "You're the first I've chosen. The only one I've asked to be with, not settled for. God, Lace. Kiss me, please."
She pressed her mouth to his, but even her lips were shaking.
Oh, God. Please make him worthy.
"I want you too, Jack," she whispered when their mouths broke apart.
"Couch, then? Just for a time?" he asked, whispering back.
She nodded, disconnecting their bodies before tugging him to the living room.
They were sitting side by side on the soft cushions, both of their hands rubbing on the legs of their jeans, only their shoulders touching.
Jax reached a hand over to stop her movements.
"I'm just Jack, Lace. I'm not that guy you have in your head at the moment, okay? I really like you and I think you really like me, the real me. Get that other bullshit out of your head, please?"
"But…" she began.
"No, Baby. Just like in the bakery when you had to fucking remind me. It's just you. It's just me. Let's create magic, Lace, alright?" he murmured turning, pulling her soft form into him. His lips moved and connected with her neck, kissing his way up to her full, pink lips.
"Yes, please," she whispered before his mouth made it to hers.
He twisted her so she was leaning against the arm of the old sofa, their chests pressed together as their lips began to move.
They began to work it, mouths doing everything he thought they both wanted to work elsewhere. Moaning, gripping and fucking rubbing so goddamn good he was seeing stars, barely able to breathe as they writhed, gripped and dry-humped together.
Fuck.
Their t-shirts were long gone, her bra cast aside like so much trash as they shifted and touched each other. Such delicious strokes, tweaks and clasps.
He wanted to taste the peaks he was palming, was squeezing between his thumb and forefinger.
Could he? Would she let him?
He moved his mouth down, kissing the long column of her throat, sucking as he tasted her.
"Oh, Jack," she mewled as he licked her tenderly, right where her neck met her shoulder and he felt his fingers on her nipples spasm at the sound of her voice.
He got a hip thrust in reply.
Okay, then. She was into this, so he kept up his trail, his intent.
God, heaven. Her nipples were fucking heaven.
Jax bent his head to envelop them with his lips.
His tongue swirled and darted, alternating between each engorged bud.
He sucked and she thrusted as he pulled her tender peaks into his mouth.
Fuck.
The electricity between them was sizzling, a pulsing pleasure.
His hips thrusted again and he shifted to lie on her, her legs falling open. She flexed her hips against him as he moved, rubbing and stroking his hard-on using just the juncture of her thighs.
"More," she begged and he realized she was trembling.
"Please, more," she implored and, honest to God, he couldn't disagree.
He reached between them, sinking his hand to cup her through her jeans and heard her sharp gasp.
"God," she moaned, throwing her head back.
Hell, yeah.
Jax was taking full advantage of it, her full surrender; his hands moving everywhere, cupping and lifting, tweaking and rolling. His lips were touching any piece of Lacey that landed beneath his lips
"Please," she begged on a whispered whimper.
"Can't, baby," he said growled, panting. "No condom."
He wanted nothing more than to sink himself into what he was sure, her hot, wet depths except he hadn't prepared for this.
For her to be willing, to welcome his touch.
For her accepting him just as he was, even knowing who he used to be.
Christ!
He didn't know what to do, hadn't ever, in his life, been in this situation.
She needed to come. Fuck, he'd be right behind her in that regard.
He could feel the tension in her body, in the soft hip strokes she was making, but he didn't know how. Didn't know what she needed to get there.
Wait.
The movies, the porn that he and the boys had watched ad naseum on the bus, in the long hours they'd spent on that rolling apartment on wheels.
The thing a guy could do with his hands, his fingers to bring a woman off.
Of course.
He could do that.
Jax shifted his hands and began to move Lacey's jeans down and off, catching a glance at the black lace panties she'd put on. He'd seen them when she'd pulled them out of the dresser earlier and remembered how his brain had yelled 'Awesome!' as sharp darts of pleasure had shot through his crotch.
Fuck, they looked so much better on.
And even sexier as he dragged them down her thighs.
His cock, his aching, dripping wet length, pulsed at the sight of her, as his eyes saw her naked, her lush moistness in the soft afternoon light.
And she was wet, the glistening of her arousal, the excitement he'd caused evident and hitting his eyes, his nose, his brain, and his cock all at the same time.
Jack stroked a finger through her slit and heard her moan as he touched her, especially when he touched the nub at the top.
He flicked a glance at her face.
God, this was so fucking hot.
He'd never done this, ever. Tried to please a woman.
His woman.
Was he doing it right?
He pressed against the pearl again, feeling her jerk at his touch and hearing her purr his name.
Goddamn.
He looked down as his hand moved, sliding through her wetness and moved up again to rub, circle and press which brought Lacey's hips up off the sofa.
"Oh, Jack, yes," she hissed.
His cock responded to every twitch of her body, every breath and sound from her mouth.
Her nipples were hard as stone and he couldn't resist tonguing them again as his finger continued to move.
"Inside, please," she whimpered with a hip twist.
He slid a finger inside slowly, feeling her wetness, her heat against his finger.
"Jack," she gasped as her hips thrusted sharply again.
Should he use another finger?
He felt like he should.
He added it on the outstroke and she immediately reacted, almost yelling as her hips jumped.
Fucking hell.
Hot, so unbelievably fucking hot.
His thumb inadvertently hit that swollen button high up on her slit as his two fingers continue to move, which seemed to cause her to grind against his busy hand. Okay, then, a new thing to play with as he stroked and worked his fingers inside and his mouth sucked and stroked, moving between the twin peaks of her breasts.
Everybody Falls Page 10
