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“It’s good,” Helena said with a wink as she held the door open. “Promise.”
Feb paused over the threshold and asked the only question that really mattered. “Is it private?”
“Oh yeah.”
Feb grabbed Jax’s hand and tugged them toward the SUV waiting at the curb again. “Let’s fucking go.” She was done waiting.
“What is this place?”
Feb made a slow circle where she stood in the center of an unfamiliar South Beach condo, trying to process everything her eyes were taking in. A wall of windows that overlooked a winter green courtyard, easels and canvases leaned against the walls of the open-plan living area, a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers on the kitchen bar, and twinkling fairy lights draped from one end of the space to a loft bedroom above the kitchen at the other end. “Do you live here?”
“God no,” Jax scoffed, then pointed toward the floor. “A bit too close to the office.” They undid their tie and tossed it and their jacket on the sectional that separated the kitchen area from the rest of the... studio space? “It’s an artist’s loft,” they confirmed as they headed for the kitchen. “The Madigans used to own it when the unit below was Hawes’s. Now Mel and Danny own it since Hawes’s old unit was converted to Redemption HQ.” Jax peeled open the whiskey bottle and poured them each a shot. “Technically, Mel and Danny own the entire building, but we only occupy these two units. If there’s no one renting up here, we use it as a crash pad when operations run long or when we need more space to chill out.”
Feb could see that, the Zen of the place no doubt a welcome—necessary—escape from the high-stress work Jax and their colleagues handled. After witnessing a small slice of it the past week, Feb appreciated that the Redemption folks had a place like this. As long as that escape wasn’t tonight, because she was out of appreciation for interruptions. “How do we know no one will barge in on us?”
Jax smiled as they circled around the sectional and handed her a whiskey. “Because as soon as I figured out where we were headed, I reset the lock code from my phone.”
“God, you’re sexy.”
“Competence kink,” Jax said with a wink. “Noted.”
Feb tossed back her whiskey, then set her glass aside. Eyeing Jax, she couldn’t help but think she really wished they had left their tie on. As it was, she settled, not unhappily, with her hands on Jax’s hips, drawing them closer. “I have some other notes for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I like you in suits.” She popped a button on Jax’s vest and took a step forward, forcing Jax a step back. “I like you in leather.” Another button, another step. “I like you in button-downs and funny ties.” The last button, the last step before the backs of Jax’s legs bumped into the sectional. “I like everything about you, Jax Dillon.” Jax opened their mouth as if to object, and Feb gave them a playful shove, enough to send them toppling back onto the couch. “Even your family,” she said as she followed them down, her knees on either side of Jax’s hips. “They’re pretty awesome, like you.”
Determined to attack their shirt buttons next, Feb lifted her hands to get started, but Jax intercepted her, clasping her hands in their own and holding them against their chest. “I like you too, Feb. A lot.” Sensing a but or caveat in their tone, Feb lifted her gaze and saw a not small amount of guilt swirling in Jax’s eyes. “And I’m sorry I lied to you,” they said. “About who I was and what we were doing at UTT. I should have told you sooner. I needed to say that before this goes any further.”
Relief flooded through Feb, propelled her to erase the distance to the lips she’d wanted to claim all night. No more buts, no more hesitation. And Jax didn’t hesitate to return the kiss either, the last of their walls coming down, their arms circling Feb’s shoulders and hauling her down on top of them as they fell back against the cushions. Laughing, something Jax had always been good at getting her to do.
Feb braced a hand in the cushion, taking in the gorgeous being beneath her, who, despite an alias and a job to do, was the same good, smart, creative, helpful person when it counted, when Feb had needed them most. “If you hadn’t been at UTT,” she said, “I might not have gotten my three stars, so let’s call it even.”
Jax reached up, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. “You would have.” Then pulling the elastic out altogether. “You’re that fucking talented, February Winters.”
“I’d like to show you how talented.” She lifted a hand to Jax’s open collar, determined to pick up where she’d left off before, then stopped herself short; she needed to ask something before they went any further. “I need to know if there are any parts of your body you want me to pay more or less attention to?”
“You’re good,” Jax said with a soft smile. “I don’t experience dysphoria, but thank you for asking. I just don’t feel like I fit into either the man or woman box our society seems so keen to put us in. Nonbinary feels more comfortable for me, like I can express the me I am, honestly, on any given day.”
“Well, I’m keen on you every day.” Feb smirked and, by Jax’s answering laugh, figured it didn’t come off nearly as sexy as she meant it to, but she didn’t care because to hear the person she’d been falling for the past three months, could see falling for forever, sound so free was better than she could have imagined.
The laughter tasted even better, Feb capturing Jax’s mouth with hers again, keeping it occupied, no more interruptions, as she worked free the buttons of their dress shirt and pushed it open, along with the vest still hanging unbuttoned.
“You happy now?” Jax said. “Buttons undone, finally.”
“Not completely,” she replied with a waggle of her brows before dipping down and blowing a raspberry against their neck, bringing out more of that laughter she couldn’t get enough of. Jax let her get away with it two more times—the other side of their neck, the hollow of their throat—before the training Feb had only seen in brief flashes asserted itself, Jax flipping their positions so Feb was laid out on the couch beneath them.
They coasted their lips down Feb’s throat, making Feb groan and arch her neck for more. “I really don’t think there’s anything wintery about you, Ms. Winters.” A hand slid between her thighs, cupping her through the dressiest pair of yoga pants she’d been able to find in her closet tonight. “Definitely seems like summer down here.” Pressed harder, no doubt feeling the wetness beginning to gather there. “Pool weather.”
Feb scoffed at the bad joke, then made a bad one of her own. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Born and raised in San Francisco.”
They cracked up laughing at the same time, continued laughing as they rid each other of their clothes, as they levered up, limbs tangled, long enough to yank the blanket off the back of the couch onto the cushions, then fell back on it, lips curved against each other’s. “Tell me what you want, Feb,” Jax whispered.
“For this not to be the only time.” The words were out before she could catch them, and she thought for a moment that maybe she’d given away too much, but then Jax’s green gaze turned from hot to boiling.
“Oh, baby,” they practically purred. “I plan for this to be the first time of many.” They cupped her breast and flicked their thumb over her nipple. “Countless, if I have my way.”
Feb liked the sound of countless. Liked the feel of it around her nipple, Jax repeating the word as they mimicked the motion of their thumb with their tongue on her other breast. “Fuck yeah,” Feb groaned, rocking her hips, chasing friction where her blood was racing, her clit throbbing with each flick of Jax’s tongue. She’d need countless at the rate this time was speeding along. She’d need all the chances to get to know Jax’s body too, the little glimpses she was getting only hints—the way their pale skin turned rosy, the way they shivered at a hand coasted down their side, the way they growled at fingers digging into their ass. The gasp they gave when Feb shifted so her thigh collided with their center. They ground against it, the heat and wetness searing Feb. “Fuck,” Feb cursed again. “You’re close too.”
