Dirty Angel (The List #2)

by N. K. Love

  On my left side there’s loose wispy strands of hair that have escaped my plait. He brushes them to the side with his nose and whispers in my ear, “You okay Angel?” It’s such a beautiful sincere voice, full of unknown promise that ripples all over my skin.

  How can somebody who’s notoriously closed off, be so surprisingly caring and intuitive towards me? How did he know exactly what to do to wash away my apprehensions? I remember my wonderful insightful friend telling me she knew he had a good heart, if you are lucky enough to get close enough to see it. Wills was right. But Jax is complex beyond anything I can measure. The effect he has on me is truly addictive. I love the unfamiliarity of it, which simply urges me for more.

  Like the trait of a true addict, I self-medicate by nuzzling my face into him and breathe in his Jax scent for a fraction of a second before I nod.

  “I am now.” My words are barely a whisper so I doubt he even hears.

  He goes to move back and I instinctively put my left hand on his so he knows I don’t want him to. I like having him close, I feel safe in a way I never have before. He returns to the same position but doesn’t say anything else. Finally the bartender has filled the twelve shots—why did I have to ask for six different flavoured vodkas? When he goes to fetch my change another bartender comes up to serve blondy.

  “Hey Claire, what can I get for ya?” They obviously know each other and blondy asks for a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “Sweet, watcha celebrating?”

  “Just an anniversary.”

  “Anniversary?”

  “One year—with my boyfriend.”

  What. The. Fuck? Brain stops… Breathing stops… Heart stops…

  The bartender returns with my change but I don’t move, Jax takes it from him and drops it in my open purse, clicking it shut. Like a robot, I automatically place the purse into my clutch, which is now hanging from my shoulder. The whole time I can’t take my eyes off this person next to me who has been seeing my husband for the last year… Who has been seeing my husband for the last year… My husband… The last year… She must sense the turmoil and rage boiling inside me and turns to stare me blank in the face. I open my mouth to say something—anything—nothing—

  Jax rescues me once again by spinning me around snapping me out of my trance. I’m faced with his chest, where I just want to bury my face and let it mask my scream. He talks discreetly and calmly, “Don’t say or do something you’re gonna regret B.”

  Putting his arm around my shoulders, he signals to one of the guys he was playing pool with. Passing them the cue stick and one of the racks of shots, he tells him to give it to Emma. Jax grabs the second rack with his spare hand.

  “Come on.”

  Jax takes us over to a corner which, after one look at Jax, is soon vacated by the lads that were occupying it. He pens me in with his body as though I’m some kind of unpredictable wild animal.

  He offers me the rack and I take two shots without hesitation, drink them both and replace the empties in their holes. Jax puts the rack on the shelf to the side of us and follows suit but I think it’s more than likely because he knows I’ll down all six given half the chance.

  I hug myself subconsciously as though I’m cold, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, shaking my head in disbelief. My eyes start to well up as I stop trying to pretend that this isn’t happening. I swipe away my falling tears with a loathing, feeling as though they represent the acceptance that my husband, my lifelong friend, is a lying motherfucking bastard cheat.

  Jax is still guarding me, protecting me. I look down and see his hands are clenched in fists at his side. He stretches out his fingers and then clenches them back into his powerful fists repeatedly. I look back at his face, it’s full of concern and I notice his jaw clenching too.

  “I want Wills, Jax.” I sob but manage to hold it together.

  “Do you want to go home? I know Wills isn’t there but I don’t think you should be here.” I reach for another shot and he raises his eyebrow at me but I take it anyway. I just want the rest of my body to match the numbness that my heart’s suffering right now.

  “No! I’m not fucking running. I’ve done nothing wrong—yet.” My acceptance of this new reality quickly spawns into anger. “I have spent the last month trying to live in the moment and do you know what? In that time, I’ve learned more about myself than I did during my entire fucking useless marriage… Evidently.” I brush away the last of my tears and clear my throat to help compose myself. “Fuck him, I’m too tipsy to do anything now. The sensible thing would be to go home, sleep it off and think about it tomorrow.” Miss Sensible is nodding slowly, thinking that was suspiciously easy—and she’s right, because my super biatch Miss Alter Ego comes to take control and prove Miss Sensible right...

  Jax slides his phone out of his pocket, presumably to call me a taxi. “Sounds good to me, come on, I’ll get you—”

  I rudely interject. “But I don’t want to be fucking Little-Miss-Boring-Sitting-On-The-Fence-Sensible anymore Jax. Fuck It. My instinct is telling me to be immature and show him exactly what he’s missing…”

  Jax puts his phone back in his pocket and looks at me confused but his reflexes are still quicker than mine as he beats me to the final vodka. “Ookay and what exactly does that entail B?” He knocks back the shot and folds his arms across his pumped chest. God there’s something about his body that makes me want to act out of character all the time.

  “Can I use you please? Well, your body really—just for a bit—before these shots take full effect! And then you can put me in a taxi, please.”

  “Bethany Taylor are you asking me to flirt with you and maybe even touch you? You want that dickhead to realise what a fucking idiot he is to have let you go, let alone fuck you around?” I smile and nod, wide-eyed, loving his misinterpretation of the situation because my idea was actually to let Mike believe that I’m capable of pulling somebody as amazing as Jax.

  Jax moves his hands to his hips in jest. “How dare you. I’m not a piece of meat you know—” He folds his arms again, looking down on me with a fake frown. I pout, dropping my bottom lip and flutter my eyelashes. “—okay, I suppose I can bear to touch you, just this once, under duress!” His sarcasm is cute and I know he’s being playful just to make me feel better, which is yet more evidence to prove his thoughtful softer side does exist. Jax knows how to make me smile and he flashes me his knee buckling perfect wall of white teeth. “Come on then B, let’s go and play nice on the dance floor.”

  Earlier, at the strike of midnight, the music had luckily slowed down from dance to R&B. So I put myself in Jax’s safe and capable hands, letting him take the lead.

  Jax takes us to a spot for optimum flaunting and positions me with my back to the corner where Mike is. “You” by Lloyd and Lil Wayne is mixed in seamlessly by the skilful DJ and we dive headfirst into some dirty dancing. It’s exhilarating. If the DJ keeps them coming like this, Miss Alter Ego will be demanding a red velvet rope to cordon us off, she’s in her absolute element.

  I love his hands on me. The feel of his palms and fingers gliding over my curves through this thin fabric, it has me visualising us skin to skin. I think Jax must be watching Mike in his peripheral vision as he intermittently pulls me in closer, he holds my waist or traces his hand down my back then leaves it resting on my bottom. When he tucks me into his chest I breathe him in. His touch, his moves and now his scent, arouses me and I let it. I’m glad to be wearing this playsuit because when I’m dancing, the crotch of the shorts pulls taut between my legs, giving me the welcome pressure a skirt wouldn’t provide.

  I’ve never danced with somebody the way I’m able to with Jax. When I know I’m in control, I feel so at ease with him. I’m dancing as provocatively as I can get away with whilst still looking believable. I start to lose sight of my original goal as it begins to disintegrate amongst the silent expression of my yearning need for Jax.

  By the time “Grind With Me” by Pretty Ricky makes an e
ntrance via various speakers, I’m away with the fairies on a fantasy island; population – two. It may as well be the explicit version, “Grind On Me”, because those are the heady lyrics playing in my head. Yet again, Jax’s presence results in me losing my inhibitions, accept this time I’m not hiding behind a cap and sunglasses. His body feels even better than it looks and it looks fucking incredible.

  Wining my body up against his side, I dip down low but slow—not to be confused with the infamous slut drop! I move straight back up suggestively with my hands on his solid chest and unlike that girl earlier, I have his undivided attention. I get lost in his green eyes for a moment but I’m snapped back when he moves his solid thigh between my legs.

  For somebody as muscular as him, it certainly doesn’t detract from the fluidity of his movements; not like those rigid beasts I see struggling to even jog on the treadmills. I’ve seen Jax press 320lbs whilst ogling him at 24/7 but he seems to spend equal time working all muscle groups rather than focussing on one. So, as we familiarise ourselves with each other’s bodies, I have the pleasure of reaping the rewards of his hard work because each part of his body is as delicious as the last. The perfect balance.

  My thoughts seamlessly evolve into wondering what he is like in bed. Beth. Ha, scorn as I may, it’s not the first time I’ve thought it and it won’t be the last. I start painting a picture of us naked, moving like this but we’re horizontal, with him on top. I have one ankle beside his face and one clenching his ass, keeping him deep.

  My trail of thought is disturbed by the crowd getting hyped up and when I recognise the intro, I realise it’s because the DJ has dusted off an epic classic; “Freek’n You” by Jodeci. I know these lyrics are going to speak my mind and give him an inkling as to what the hell it’s been like living with my filthy mind over the last fortnight or so. He just laughs when I mime certain lines with a mischievous smile.

  Jax smoothly turns us to the side and slides me around so that he can dance with me from behind whilst still putting on a show. I risk a glance over and spot Mike straight away. He is blatantly standing facing us, holding a bottle to his lips to try and mask his expression. But I know his face well enough to only need to see his eyes, where I detect anger and jealousy. Good! My expression is blank as we look at each other. I don’t give a shit and I don’t regret one iota of my childish stunt. I realise that he doesn’t know that I know but I still silently scream at him; “I hope you’re enjoying the show you cheating bastard!”

  After a couple of seconds I return my full attention to Jax. My hips lock in with his and we grind effortlessly in sync. We’re blatantly but subtly mimicking sex and it turns me on to the hilt. I know that he’s imagining similar scenarios to me. Mine now being; me naked, bent over, appreciating this fluent rotation of his hips whilst he’s buried deep inside me. I wish I knew what his thoughts are.

  Our bodies’ link together working in unison as though it’s a rehearsed ritual. I arch up my back to brush against him with my bottom. Jax pulls my hips back tighter against him and leans his face down, upping my heart rate another notch by playfully grazing his teeth across my neck and shoulder. My nipples harden and my pussy clenches—yes, my whole body is on full Jax alert. Part of me wants him to bite down hard just to relieve the intensity channeling through me from head to toe.

  I feel impelled to give him easier access so I reach my arms up and around the back of his neck, holding him in place and giving his hands the perfect invitation to wander. I transport myself back onto our fantasy island where only we exist, with his hands claiming every new part of my body that he touches. He drifts his hands up from my hips over my ribcage and comes dangerously close to giving me what my insides are begging for. Instead, he brings his hands up to the base of my plaits and tugs at both of them firmly in a gesture that shows me he is equally struggling to restrain himself.

  That move only serves to give me another boost of confidence, spurred on by the shots that choose now to creep into the blood pumping around my body. I need to see his face so I twirl on the spot and wrap my arms back up onto his shoulders.

  Wow—he is so handsome and his hungry expression tugs deep between my legs.

  I would happily study every inch of this man, every beautiful inch. He is smirking at me then bends down and says, “Are we playing nice enough for you?” As my playsuit shorts are indeed short, his fingertips glide over the material to my thighs sending shockwaves to all the right places.

  I smirk back and by the flick of a switch, our eyes darken and the energy between us alters. Our smiles fade but we’re still dancing and I know, right here, in this moment, I know he feels it too. I’ve questioned it before but now I have the undeniable answer.

  My eyes drop to his sketched lips and I decide that actually, in answer to his question, it’s not good enough. I want more and I will him to make a move. Kiss me. Jax, kiss me.

  “Kiss me.” Shit! My freudian slip surprises me and I’m not sure whether it’s the vodka talking or Miss Alter Ego but either way I don’t actually care because it’s honestly what I want.

  For a split second he glances down at my mouth, his lips part and I see his mind considering it but he looks back to my eyes and quickly frowns. He rolls his eyes, spinning me back around quickly to face away from him again with his arms around my waist. But all I want is his mouth on mine. He bends down to my ear. “Didn’t I tell you not to do something you’ll regr—”

  Before he has chance to finish and before I have chance to overthink, I turn my head, plant my lips over his and kiss him.

  Oh my God. I kiss him, his gorgeous lips.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t pull away. I turn my body without breaking our connection and grab two fistfuls of his shirt to pull him in closer to me. It takes a second but then I feel him give in as he brings his strong hands up to hold the sides of my face. His skilled fingers entangle my plaits leaving his thumbs at my temples. He parts my lips further and our tongues finally introduce themselves in a desperately awaited dance of their own. He's dominant yet needy, meeting me stroke for stroke in perfect harmony. His mouth on mine makes me feel like it’s raining daisies in my tummy, reviving the seed that was sown when I first felt his breath on my ear that night in Tricks. That seed of tantalising curiosity is growing into a lovely blossom tree, full of heavenly hope.

  How can a kiss feel this amazing? I know I love kissing but jeez this is something else, a whole new level. Even though we’re in a room full of people, this moment feels so private and intimate. He pulls away a fraction, just enough to envelope my bottom lip and suck it in orgasmically slowly, whilst we catch our breath.

  My God, it is everything I’d dreamed it would be and then some. His soft, thick, skilful lips are divine.

  My whole body is responding to him and I’m having to use his chest to hold my weight. I let out a breath laced with a shameless moan, loud enough for just him to hear. Every dirty sexual thought I’ve had about him was released in that kiss, emptied into him, so I hope he paid attention. Our lips are still touching, parted, I open my eyes to his. Ever so slowly and gently he drags at my lips with his teeth. Fuck that’s sexy as hell. I close my eyes, helpless to the emotion he’s evoking within me.

  We kiss again. It’s unhurried and pussy twitchingly passionate with the timely added sensation of his rock hard cock crushing into me. He moves one hand to my backside and pulls me in and up slightly, wanting me to feel how aroused he is, which accelerates my own arousal tenfold. He brings the kiss to a close and we lean our foreheads together. I open my eyes to meet his tropical green pools of mesmerising mystery.

  Jax moves his hands to my waist, so I take hold of his forearms and we bring ourselves back into the real world where kissfucking like that doesn’t exist.

  I can see that he is trying to read me, to predict what my next move will be. I do the same but I can’t call it. I don’t know what he is thinking but I do know that this was all supposed to be under false pretences for Mike’s lying little eyes.
So I stick to that and try to appear nonchalant. “Yep, that ought to do it.” I smile innocently.

  The track comes to an end and I use that as my cue to go to the ladies but I’m thoughtful enough to ask Jax to hold my bag. He frowns and then I flash my eyes down to his crotch and he realises I’m doing him a favour so he takes the convenient shield.

  As I walk away I notice more eyes on me than normal and wonder if Jax and I looked as steamy as it felt. I glimpse at Mike who looks has the nerve to look extremely pissed off and flustered. Next, I notice blondy behind him standing with a few other girls, all staring and practically drooling over Jax. Back off bitches!

  Once I’m in the toilet, I mentally high five Miss Alter Ego and allow myself to think about how amazing that bizarre episode with Jax was. The kiss—wow, the kiss—it was so much more than a kiss for me. It was a release of pent up hunger and intense longing. It answered old questions and left me with new ones.