“You ready for this?” Jax asks.
No. I sneak another glance at the sign and gnaw my lip. These symbols represent some chapter in the Greek life, but for me, they hold a different meaning. Tonight, they mark another event I can attribute to Jax. I swear he is determined to check off everything from my list before semester’s end.
Good luck with parasailing, buddy. That thought almost wipes away my jitters. It’s the evening before Thanksgiving break. There will be no watersports happening anytime soon. Truth, I added it in case I go somewhere warm for spring break.
Jax pauses when we step onto the concrete stoop and brings my hand to his mouth. The brush of his lips causes soft tingles to spread across my skin, and I’m a bit mesmerized by his gesture.
“Don’t be nervous. These parties aren’t bad.” His face turns serious as his gaze deepens. “And for the record, I don’t consider a frat party an official date. I still owe you a good one, but this is an easy one to do. Even if it’s further down the list.”
Warmth spreads to my cheeks from his implications. It’s true. We’re skipping several numbers, including the elusive number five. He wanted me to keep the past few weeks open, but his schedule is crazy. We’ve gotten together but haven’t had a chance at a proper date. Certainly, not where we’re alone. I’ve barely gotten a kiss, let alone an orgasm.
“The list wasn’t intended to be in any particular order.” I lift my chin to him. “Why are you so determined for me to check off everything?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I shake my head slightly.
“Because”—he draws me against him, his warm breath tickling my face—“I love seeing you smile and knowing I’m the one who put it there.”
Despite the cold, my heart melts a little, and the smile Jax admits to loving shines through. His gaze drops to my mouth, and I swear the air electrifies around us as my heart beats in anticipation. He dips his head, and I mentally picture those firm lips claiming me. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of his kisses. I part my mouth, ready to accept him fully, but laughter drifts up the sidewalk. Small groans escape us both as he backs away.
“Come on. Let’s experience number sixteen.” He nudges his chin toward the door.
Before I could ask how the hell he remembers the exact sequence of my list, he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me through the entrance. All conversation between us dies when the bass assaults my ears, the vibrations hammering against my chest. We step into a massive open area, which I assume is the house’s living room. People cram the overstuffed L-shaped couch, while others stand around engaged in conversation. To the far left, a makeshift dance floor houses some girls swinging their hips to the beat while holding their red plastic cups in the air. Other than a couple of them grinding against each other, the party seems tame. No signs of wild and crazy at all. Talk about a total letdown from every single book I’ve ever read. Is this normal or did Jax take me to a lame party?
“Where are all the people making out?” My words are barely audible, but Jax lets out a garbled choke.
With a raised eyebrow, he asks, “Why, do you want to watch?”
“No! It’s just—” I scrunch my nose at the sweet scent wafting the air. “Are they smoking cigars?”
“No. That would be weed.” He laughs. “How small is the town you grew up in?”
Okay, maybe they’re not so lame.
“I’m sure they’ve smoked their share. I’ve just never partaken.” Uneasiness washes over me at the thought of being with someone who does. “Why, do you?”
“No.” He immediately shakes his head, and the relief flooding my system surprises me. Asking a date about their drug habits never made my list. I never thought it to be an issue. “I’m not saying I’ve never tried it, but my focus is on the game. Okay, so that’s a no to drugs, but what about alcohol? Did you drink in this small town?”
His smirk puts me more at ease. He points toward a crowded den off to the side.
“Yes, I’ve had a few in my lifetime.” Very few. I wasn’t about to admit my drinking experience consisted of my cousins and I sneaking the spiked holiday punch my aunt always made. “But I always thought the kegs were kept in the kitchen.”
“You’re cute.” He laughs again. “Where did these expectations come from? Wait, let me guess, romance books?”
“Perhaps I read too much.”
“Your list was extensively long, but I suppose the keg could be in the kitchen. I just don’t think that’s standard protocol.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Seriously, how does he remember my entire planner?
“Let’s ditch our coats, then we’ll get our drinks.”
We retreat from the den’s entrance and head toward the stairs on the far side of the living room. As I shimmy out of my jacket, a blond-haired hottie waltzes up with a beer in hand.
Jax and I dated practically all semester, but with the team’s busy schedule, I haven’t met his roommate-slash-teammate. Not officially anyway.
“Zach, my man.” They fist bump each other, and Jax turns to me. “This guy right here is one hell of a pitcher. The best I’ve played with. I’m so ready for the season to start.”
“Can’t wait to watch,” I say, trying to keep my tone sincere. It’s hard. My roommate whining to me about him while I’m trying to sleep keeps flitting through my mind. Zach’s grin stretches across his face, and I openly stare. I’d have to be blind not to notice what my roommate sees in him. He’s cute, but he knows it. Jax exudes confidence, almost as if he’s gotten his way his entire life, but he’s no match for this guy’s arrogance.
“Aw, I finally get to meet Jocelyn. So, you’re a big baseball fan, huh?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “Not really.”
“Ouch,” Zach says laughing. “If you’re not a cleat chaser, then what are doing with this guy?”
My jaw drops, but before I can utter my retort, Jax slaps Zach on the back. “By the time first pitch comes around, I’ll have her converted.” His wink sends flutters to my stomach. He more or less declared we’ll be together for a while. I like that. A lot.
“We’ll see how it goes.” The slight tease to my voice causes them both to laugh.
“I’ll deposit these coats and get some drinks. Be right back.” Jax takes off toward the staircase, and I watch until he dips out of sight.
“I feel like I know you already,” I tell Zach.
“Yeah? He talks about me all the time like he does you?”
I rear back, not quite expecting that reply. “Uh, no. I mean, my roommate has talked about you.”
“Ah, yeah. Cassie.”
Honestly, I’m surprised he remembers her name. I picture him as a smash-and-dash kind of guy, never bothering with identifiers. Since Cassie and he never had sex, she’s even more forgettable.
“Yeah, she says you’re avoiding her.”
“Sort of, yeah.” He grimaces but holds my gaze. “I sense some judgment in that tone.”
“Me? Never. Okay, maybe some.” I shift my feet as the sudden warmth in my chest threatens to engulf my entire body. Confrontations aren’t my strong suit, but I started this conversation; there’s no backing down now. “I don’t get the whole lead them on for sex, then dump them afterward.”
“One, I never bagged her. And two, the reason she’s benched is because she wants more than I’m willing to give. I’m not like Jax; I have to stay focused on the game. I can’t afford distractions.”
“And a girlfriend is too distracting?”
“Definitely. That’s why I instituted the no-dating policy. When I explained this to Cassie, I could tell she wasn’t going to be all right with one night—hence the avoidance.”
“Fair enough. I appreciate your honesty.” Cassie’s version differs slightly, but I’m not surprised. Her drama queen behavior is what keeps us from becoming close. I’ve never been one for drama, and I avoid those types of people. Jax slips by us and makes a drinking gesture with his h
and. I nod, but as he walks toward the den, I ponder Zach’s words. His reasoning makes sense, no matter how unsettling it makes me feel. “Do you think I’m a distraction?”
His hesitation tells me my answer.
“Look, Jax and I are different,” he finally says. “We may have the same goals, but he’s better equipped than me. Less baggage. I have too much riding on this.”
I’m not sure how to process that information, but I can see Zach’s point. Maybe he isn’t as awful as the picture I’ve painted of him. My face softens as I eye him. I open my mouth to respond but quickly close it when a brunette, wearing fewer clothes than the weather permits, sidles next to him. The way his interest piques, I believe our conversation is over.
Feeling a tad uncomfortable while Zach works his magic, I scan the room in search of my date. Jax should have been back with the drinks by now. The den isn’t that far. I step from the seductive act beside me and head to the designated keg room. More people have filled the living room in the past half hour, and I have to weave through a few groups. Stepping around the corner opening, I come to an abrupt halt when my gaze falls upon the reason for Jax’s delay. A tall blonde with the agenda of screwing my man stands in front of him. I don’t need to see the vixen’s face to know who she is. Marissa has a certain stance about her I’d recognize anywhere.
They’re just talking, and I have every right to interrupt, but the connection between my brain and feet misfires because I stand frozen. Marissa places her hand on his biceps, and the neckline of her plunging V-neck exposes more of her full-sized breasts. Holding a beer in each hand, Jax’s gaze dips down and lingers before he raises it back up to her face. I can almost see her smirk as she shifts and leans against Jax’s chest. His jaw clenches, and whether he’s enjoying copping a feel or not, he doesn’t back away. Fuck this. I let out a disgusted sound and turn around. Leaving is all I care about. As I head to the door, her previous words flit through my mind. Experience always wins. If experience is what he wants, then he can have it.
I move swiftly through the room, not paying attention to who I’m brushing by. I push past a couple of girls forming a small circle by the breezeway and step out into the brisk air. A shiver ripples through me, and I curse the fact my coat is MIA. Despite the twenty-degree temperature drop, I’m not going back inside to find it. I wrap my arms around my chest as I breathe in the air. What am I doing? I told myself no athletes. Football, baseball, they’re all the same. I knew better.
“Hey, are you okay?” a deep voice calls out, but it’s the wrong voice.
“I’m f-f-fine,” I stutter, my lips shivering.
“Here, you’re freezing.” Zach lifts his hoodie above his head, his undershirt lifting and exposing a sliver of his abs. His rather sculpted abs. Holy shit, he’s built.
“Thanks,” I say as I take the sweatshirt from him and try not to think of the multiple orgasms he gave Marissa. Marissa. Stupid bitch. I can’t even get one unless I do it to myself. Now she’s throwing herself on the one guy I have a chance with.
“Want to talk about it?”
My less-than-stellar sexual encounters? No thank you.
“Jocelyn?” Jax yells, but I don’t answer.
Zach looks from Jax to me, then back to Jax, his face growing tight. “Over here.”
“Traitor,” I mumble under my breath.
“Hey, whatever he did, I’m sure there’s a reason. Hear my boy out.”
“Jocelyn,” Jax says, nodding at Zach. “What you saw back there wasn’t what—”
“It’s not what…what it looks like? Spare me the words. I’ve heard them before.”
“God, no. It’s definitely not what it looked like.”
“Really, because you looked pretty cozy with her breast nuzzled against your chest.”
Both men wince. “I’m going to let you guys hash this out.” The disapproving scowl Zach throws toward Jax raises my respect for him another notch.
When Zach is out of hearing range, Jax speaks, “Admittedly, I didn’t handle that well.”
I spin on my heels and let my feet carry me away. I have no idea where I’m going, but walking back to the dorm hasn’t been ruled out. I just wished I could’ve grabbed my coat. It’s one of my favorites.
“I’m not like Zach, okay. I’m not used to this attention.”
“Pfft. Don’t let me bog down your playboy-ism.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Despite the distress masking his irritation, I press forward.
“Jocelyn, listen to me.” When a few more plea attempts go unanswered, he says, “Jocelyn, stop.”
I halt and ignore the strange things his deep, authoritative voice does to my insides. My pulse quickens as he positions himself behind me and places his hands on each arm. No matter how hard I fight it, my eyes close, succumbing to his touch. His presence. I don’t want him to feel this good.
“I’m sorry.” The thrum of his voice vibrates against my ear, further weakening my resolve. “But every time I tried saying something, Nana’s voice played in my head. It’s hard being rude when you’re raised to respect women. Believe me when I tell you that girl means nothing to me. She wasn’t taking any of my hints, and I didn’t know what to say to get rid of her.”
“Did you tell her you were dating someone?”
“No, I—”
“That’s a good place to start.”
“You’re right. I should’ve said that.”
The wind whips my hair into his face and sends a chill through my entire body. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, protecting myself from more than the cold. Damn it. Am I always going to be suspicious and overreact now? He was just standing there. So what if he looked at her cleavage? I just scoped out Zach’s abs.
“Come here.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to a small brick outbuilding about twenty feet away tucked within the pine trees lining the property’s grounds. Once we reach the building, he jiggles the handle, and the door creeps open, the hinges screaming in desperation for oil. I follow behind Jax as his unanswered hello gives the clearance to enter. It’s dark and a little spooky; no way am I going first.
Cobwebs line the corners of the plate glass windows. A metal-framed army cot sits underneath against the wall. Not ideal but better than nothing.
“Doesn’t look too comfy, but at least we’re out of the wind,” Jax says as we edge our way to the bed. The canvas material dips as he sits and pulls me beside him. Silvery moonlight filters through the panes and highlights his masculine jaw. Eyes too dark to determine their color zero in on mine. I squirm, the consequences of my actions weighing me down. Embarrassing or not, he deserves an explanation for my abhorrent behavior.
“I caught my ex-boyfriend with my best friend. I may have a few trust issues.”
“Double betrayal. That had to hurt.” Concern lines crinkle his forehead, and the tiny tick of his jaw makes me wonder if he’s aware of how I feel.
“It was supposed to be a surprise—my being there in his bedroom—but we all know how surprises turn out.” I shake my head and laugh humorlessly. “Mom and I were going out of town for the weekend, but Grammie fell ill, so we canceled. It was a Friday night. I knew his parents were gone for the weekend and figured he’d be out with friends. My unanswered call pretty much confirmed it. Thought I’d be sly. I went to his house, retrieved the hide-a-key from the bottom of the fake welcome rock, and let myself in.
“I remember feeling almost giddy. We dated for three years, so this wasn’t the first time I’d let myself in. I wasn’t even quiet as I made my way to his bedroom. In fact, the neighbors could probably hear my high heels clicking against the hardwood floors. But as soon as I hit the stairs, I heard moans.”
“You don’t have to go on,” Jax interrupts and runs his hand along my back. The reassurance is nice, but I need to get this off my chest. I never told anyone what happened that night.
I blow out a breath and continue. “Yeah, surprises never work. I ran up the stairs
and marched straight to his bedroom with every intent on giving him and his partner a piece of my mind. Instead, I swallowed my gasp as I saw my best friend, spread eagle, with my boyfriend pounding into her.”
Jax draws me into his chest, his scent awakening every nerve ending. “I’m sorry your ex is a dick, but I’m not him. I would never cheat on you.”
I want to believe him. I really do, but I can’t seem to let my guard down. Not fully, anyway.
“Did you have a girlfriend in high school?”
“For two years.”
I look back up and meet his gaze. He surely had feelings for her after two years of dating. Maybe the same thing happened to him? “Why did you split?”
“We just separated ways.” His shrug doesn’t convey whether he’s upset over their breakup or not. “She went upstate to Cornell. Obviously, I went here. Lauren’s a great girl, but we didn’t have a future together. Things just ended between us after graduation.”
“And you’re okay with starting another relationship? I won’t be a distraction?” I have to ask. The last thing I want is to get in the way. His eyes widen with the realization of why I’m asking.
“You don’t need to worry. I know what I want, Dixie.” Jax runs his thumb along the side of my face while wrapping his fingers around the back of my head. He leans forward and pulls me closer.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice an octave above a whisper.
“I want to spend every spare minute getting to know you better. I want my ears filled with that cute little accent of yours.” His thumb traces across my lips as the deepness of his voice slides across my skin. “I want to own every pleasurable moan that escapes your mouth. Believe me, when we’re done, you won’t be questioning anything again.”
Holy hell.
The area between my legs flares with need that’s long overdue. The chill of the air fades into the distance as deep, soulful eyes focus entirely on me.
Tired of waiting for the right moment, I make the boldest move of my life despite my pounding heart. I shift slightly and plant my lips on his. He lets out a surprised moan as his hands hesitate before finding their way to my waist and pulling me flush against his rock-hard body. His mouth, eager to respond, takes over and controls the tempo. I savor the moment as heat continues to pool below. I want this tonight. I want this with Jax.
Swing For The Fences Page 7
