Take Me

by Locklyn Marx

  Anna turned her back on him while he led the bimbo over to some wicker lounge chairs near the deep end of the oval-shaped pool. She focused on the man in front of her.

  He lived across the street from Katie and his name was Todd. He was nice enough looking, with close cropped brown hair and a sparkling smile.

  “So are we going to go for a swim?” Anna asked him cheerfully.

  “I don’t think so,” Todd said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to get all wet.”

  He didn’t want to get all wet? Anna’s heart sank. How was she supposed to show that she didn’t care about Jaxon by splashing around with this new man when he didn’t even want to go in the pool?

  “Come on,” she said. She pulled on his hand and put a fake little pout on her face, hating herself for having to resort to such feminine trickery. “Let’s go in the water.”

  “No thanks,” Todd said. And now he was looking at her warily, like maybe she was slightly insane. Which, come to think of it, made a lot of sense. She was pulling on his hand, after all. And he was a total stranger.

  “Are you sure?” Anna asked, cocking her head and giving him her sweetest smile.

  “That’s okay,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I really have to leave soon anyway. Have you seen Katie? I want to make sure to say goodbye.”

  “Yeah,” Anna said, sighing and gesturing toward the gift table. “She’s over there.”

  She pulled her clothes back on over her bathing suit, left Jaxon to his bimbo, and walked back into the yard to join the party.

  ***

  The rest of the shower passed without incident. The guests oohed and ahhed over all the cute baby gifts, Katie’s mom tried to get them to play a game of baby shower bingo, and a strawberry cake with chocolate ganache frosting put everyone in a sugar coma.

  When it was time to leave, Anna pulled Katie close and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you,” she said. “Call me later, okay? We’ll get together tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely,” Katie said, her eyes shining.

  As Anna drove back to her parents’ house, where she was staying for the week, she struggled to get Jaxon out of her mind. She hated the fact that he still had such an effect on her.

  Of course she’d been brokenhearted when Jaxon had left for Los Angeles, leaving her behind in Connecticut to finish high school. She’d spent the first part of her senior year holed up in her room, making mix tapes of sad music by the kind of artists who sang about lost loves and missed chances. But when she graduated and headed off to Boston and the hallowed halls of Harvard University, she’d thought for certain that she’d forget about him.

  She knew in her heart that Jaxon was all wrong for her. After all, she was Anna Webb, good girl, smart, straight-A student. Jaxon Hale was rough and tumble, the kind of guy who was fun to kiss, but not the kind you ended up spending your life with. He exuded sexuality, and every time Anna had been with him, it was all she could do not to let him take off all her clothes and finish what he would so expertly start.

  But Anna was a good girl, and she’d followed the path her parents had laid out for her. Harvard, then an MBA from Yale, then a post in London at a top financial firm where she worked hard and made an obscene amount of money.

  There had been men of course. Anna had lost her virginity her sophomore year of college, a little behind by anyone’s standards, but it was with a boy she’d been dating for four months. Anna thought that was a respectable amount of time to be dating someone before you gave him your virginity. The sex had been fine. Nothing spectacular, but not one of those horror stories women liked to tell about their first time, either.

  There had been a couple of long term relationships, a few relationships that had lasted for a few months, and dozens of first dates. And, always, no matter what, there had been thoughts of Jaxon.

  Thanks to the internet, it had been relatively easy to keep tabs on him. Anna know that he’d graduated from UCLA, that he’d opened his own real estate development company, that he’d started buying properties, rehabbing them himself and selling them.

  He had become something of a legend in Los Angeles, from what she could tell.

  This rough-looking man whose estimated net worth was a few million dollars, who never shied away from a fight with an inspector or a city councilmen, or even another real estate developer.

  Jaxon refused to give interviews, and therefore the Los Angeles press had seemed to become somewhat obsessed with him. They wrote about him with a kind of semi-reverent slant, while somehow being able to convey their annoyance with the fact that he refused to be interviewed.

  He had no facebook page. No twitter. His company had a website, but even then there had been no picture of him.

  From what Anna could tell, Jaxon liked to be behind the scenes, doing the work, but not wanting or taking credit.

  It was a sharp contrast to Anna’s own career. From the time she’d been born, her parents had encouraged her to take credit for her accomplishments. Winning the second grade spelling bee. Getting a perfect score on the eighth grade math aptitude test.

  Becoming valedictorian. Getting a 4.0 in college. Landing the job at Burns and Wildman.

  Each milestone was celebrated and bragged about to her parents’ friends, neighbors, and relatives. Successes were something to put out in the open and be proud of, at least until the next goal was set.

  Anna pulled her car into the driveway and cut the engine. Her parents weren’t home. They’d been here last night when Anna had arrived, had picked her up at the airport and whisked her off for a nice dinner at her favorite restaurant. This morning the three of them had eaten breakfast together. Her mother had prepared a feast of boysenberry pancakes with real maple syrup, cut organic honeydew, and cup after cup of expensive, fresh ground French roast.

  But tonight her parents had plans with friends of theirs, the Morgansterns.

  Anna had been invited, but the Morgansterns had never been her favorite, and so she had begged off, claiming she was going to be hanging out with Katie.

  She walked up the cobblestone walk and into the house, deciding to curl up in bed with a book and a glass of wine.

  A few hours later, the sun had slipped down below the horizon, coating her bedroom in a cozy darkness, broken only by the soft glow of the light on the nightstand by her bed. Anna snuggled further down in the sheets, feeling relaxed and happy. She turned the pages of her book, enjoying the silence and the time to herself.

  At around ten o’clock, she turned off the light and drifted off to sleep.

  She awoke a couple of hours later to the sound of something hitting her window.

  At first she thought perhaps it was raining, and she rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. But the sounds against her window got stronger, coming in harder, more frequent bursts.

  And then she realized it wasn’t rain.

  It was stones.

  She ran to the window and looked out.

  There, on her parents’ front lawn, was Jaxon.

  He was wearing a black V-neck sweater layered over a crisp white T-shirt. The sweater was soft-looking and tight, showing off his broad chest and chiseled pecs. His narrow hips were encased in a pair of baggy jeans, and his feet were in brown work boots. Dark hair flopped over his forehead and ruffled in the summer night breeze. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and there was a bored look on his face.

  Anna’s heart sped up, her pulse racing as she took in the man standing before her.

  She pulled open the window.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Jaxon’s lips slid up into a sexy, mischievous grin, the same grin that had caused countless women to think about doing wicked things with him. “What do you think I’m doing here?” His voice was husky, his intent unmistakable. “I would have used the door, but I didn’t want to wake your parents.”

  Anna’s cheeks felt hot, her skin flushed. Her eyes darted to the driveway, where her parents’ nav
y blue Nissan Sentra was parked. They were home from dinner with the Morgansterns, and she must have been sleeping so soundly that she hadn’t heard them come in.

  Suddenly, Anna flashed back to the summer she’d spent with Jaxon. The way everything smelled of fresh cut grass and chlorine, the way the humid night air would feel against her skin as she opened the window for him. Almost every night he’d be there, coming to see her after they were sure her parents were asleep.

  He’d climb into her room and they’d bury themselves under her pink plaid comforter, staring into each other’s eyes, whispering and kissing until the sun started to rise.

  “I can’t let you up,” Anna said now. She shook her head fiercely, even though every cell in her body was screaming at her to let him in.

  “Come on,” Jaxon said. “It’s cold out here.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  He looked at her. “Anna,” he said, his voice gruff. “Please.”

  She took a deep breath, then walked to the big oak dresser against the far wall of her old room. She crossed her fingers and opened the top drawer. Inside was the knotted rope ladder she’d used all those years ago.

  She looped one end onto the post of her bed, then threw it out the window.

  A moment later, Jaxon appeared. He gripped the bottom of the windowsill, his muscular forearms flexing as he slid his body into her bedroom.

  “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “This place looks exactly the same. You’d think your parents would have turned it into a gym or something.”

  His close proximity was stirring up all kinds of different emotions in Anna.

  Sadness, regret, lust, and anger pulsed through her body, swirling together into a formidable tornado that couldn’t be controlled.

  “Where’s the brunette you picked up at the party?” she asked, her tone biting.

  She sat down on the bed. “Turned you down, did she?”

  Jaxon shook his head, like he found her sarcasm amusing. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Princess.”

  “I’m not jealous. And don’t call me Princess.”

  He sat down next to her, the springs of the mattress groaning a little under his weight.

  “Okay,” she said, moving a few inches away from him. “You need to –”

  “Shhh.” He reached out and put a finger to her lips. “Quiet. You don’t want to wake anyone up.”

  His touch was shocking and intense. Electricity zapped through her body, moving from her lips down into her belly and then zinging all the way to her toes. Her senses were on high alert. She could smell the cologne Jaxon was wearing, the musky scent of his deodorant, the slight hint of sweat and man that permeated the room.

  His finger moved down over her mouth, his thumb stopping for a moment to rub against her bottom lip. His index finger traced a flaming trail down over her chin, across her neck, and down over her collarbone.

  Anna bit her lip, willing herself not to cry out. This man, this moment, had been what she’d been thinking and dreaming about for years, and now that it was finally here, the reality of it was almost too much for her to bear.

  “You look sexy when you bite your lip like that, Princess,” Jaxon growled. He’d inched closer to her, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her cheek. “If you don’t stop, I might do something I’ll regret.”

  Anna licked her lip, then bit it again, daring him to follow through.

  “I’m serious, Princess,” he drawled. The side of his mouth tugged up into that sensuous grin. “Don’t tease me like that. If you start something, you best be prepared to finish it.”

  “Oh, I’m prepared,” Anna said.

  “You sure about that?”

  Anna wasn’t. But she nodded anyway, unable to take the idea that he might stop touching her, might take away the feeling of ecstasy that was rushing through her body.

  He moved his face closer to hers, and she felt his breath brush against her cheek again. A hot shiver slid up her spine.

  His eyes locked on hers, his gaze penetrating. The urge to kiss him flooded her body, but she was frozen, unable to move, unable to feel anything but his eyes on hers.

  Just looking at him was setting her body on fire.

  His finger was still on her collarbone, drawing lazy circles. The slow burn of his touch was so contradictory to how much she wanted him it made her almost dizzy.

  He inched closer to her mouth, and Anna closed her eyes. She couldn’t take the way he was looking at her, the way it was making her feel. Raw emotion welled up inside of her, emotion that she’d kept buried for years.

  When his mouth finally found hers, it was everything she’d imagined. His lips brushed against hers softly, a contrast to the rough stubble on his cheeks. He kissed her again, this time more insistent, and he parted her lips with his tongue. She surrendered to him, letting him take her, wanting him to take her.

  The kiss deepened, their tongues darting softly against each other. He tasted like mint and something else, something that was dark and dangerous and daring. They fell down onto the bed, and then he was on top of her, their legs intertwined.

  He moved his mouth down over her neck, kissing down her throat, back over her collarbone, ending at the swell of her breast.

  “Damn, Princess,” he said, and grinned up at her wickedly. “You taste just as good as I remember.”

  He slid his hands over the top of the tank top she was wearing, letting his fingers dip below the thin material. The whole time his eyes were on hers, the lust and want on his face as much of a turn on as his touch. Heat passed between them as he slid his fingers over her breasts, stopping right before he got to her nipples.

  Then his mouth was back on hers, his tongue moving in and out, the stubble of his chin rough against her cheeks as they kissed. He kept one hand on the top of her breast, and moved his other hand to her face, stroking her cheek softly.

  The weight of his body pressed her into the sheets, and she wrapped her legs around him, wanting him as close as she could possibly get him.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, pulling back. “Getting a little aggressive, are you, Princess?” Then he frowned. “What the hell is that?”

  “What the hell is what?” Anna asked. She was breathless, and frustrated that he’d taken his mouth off hers.

  “That vibrating.”

  Anna tried to listen over the beating of her own heart. She didn’t hear anything, but she felt something. Something was vibrating in the bed.

  She reached her hand toward the direction of the sound, and pulled her cell phone out from under the sheets.

  “Oh,” Jaxon said. “I thought maybe you were trying to get kinky.” He raised his eyebrows up and down, and then rolled his eyes, like the thought of Jaxon Hale having to bring a vibrator into the bedroom was preposterous.

  “It’s Katie,” Emma said, setting the phone down on her nightstand.

  “Are you going to answer it?” Jaxon asked, knowing full well she wasn’t.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The phone stopped ringing, then immediately started ringing again. And then, a few seconds later, a text message popped onto the screen.

  Anna reached for it.

  “Holy shit,” she said, her eyes widening. “Katie’s in labor.”

  ***

  Of all the times to go into labor. His sister just had to pick the exact moment when he was about to make love to Anna. Talk about bad timing.

  Jaxon didn’t know how or why he’d ended up at Anna’s house. After she’d left Katie’s baby shower, he’d felt a weird pang of emptiness. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one he wasn’t used to, and so he’d ignored it for as long as he could, flirting with the brunette, mingling with the guests, helping Katie and Adam clean up once everyone had left.

  When Katie and Adam had gone to bed, Jaxon had pulled out his laptop and started researching some new properties online. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Anna. Her smile. Those l
ong legs. That tiny little scarlet bikini.

  He felt like he was going stir crazy, so he’d left Katie’s house in search of something to eat. All Katie and Adam had in the house was organic, free-range bullshit, and Jaxon wanted McDonald’s.

  But he hadn’t ended up at McDonald’s.

  Instead, he drove to Anna’s neighborhood, remembering the countless times he’d climbed up that ladder and into her bedroom. Back in those days, he’d park his car around the corner in case her parents happened to look outside. This time, he parked right in front of the house.

  But old habits die hard, and a second later he’d found himself throwing rocks at Anna’s window. He’d climbed up the ladder, hoping it would still hold him – he’d probably put on twenty or so pounds of muscle since he was a teenager – and then slipped into her room.

  He’d loved teasing her, loved the way her body had begun to respond to his. And then, suddenly, his sister had called.

  And now he was on his way to the hospital. The last place he wanted to go was the hospital. But the last thing he wanted to do was leave Anna. And so he’d offered to drive her.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” Anna asked from the passenger seat.

  “Of course I know where I’m going,” Jaxon said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know.” She cleared her throat and looked out the window. “I just didn’t know if you remembered how to get there.”

  “How could I forget?” He reached over and hit the button for the sunroof. Warm air filled the car and moonlight shone down on them, making it feel like a lazy summer night. “Don’t you remember that time I had to drive you there?”

  Anna nodded. “I remember it because you almost fainted.”

  Jaxon frowned. “I didn’t almost faint.” It was a lie, of course. He had almost fainted.

  He remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d been at Anna’s house, and she’d been cutting a tomato for a salad. Her hand had slipped, the knife slicing against her skin. Jaxon had grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around her hand. There’d been so much blood that it had soaked right through. Jaxon grimaced now, remembering. But it hadn’t been just the blood that had made him woozy.