AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I hated that thought, but there had to be women in his life. No man who looked like Jax could possibly be either single or celibate. He looked like he could star in an action movie, right at home in combat fatigues leading a daring rescue. Or he could be a down-on-his luck boxer who needed the faith of a good woman by his side to help him become heavyweight champion of the world.
Yes, I had an over-active imagination, but I wasn’t imaging how attentive Jax was. He remembered little things about my day, like how the bus I took to work was always either late or early. He’d send me a message right when I was supposed to be getting to work asking, “Which one was it today?” He knew I was always filling in for other people’s shifts, the sub on standby should anyone ever want time off. Jax would tell me to take care of myself, reminding me how many shifts I’d worked in the past week. Which meant he was keeping count, looking out for me.
I literally felt like I was glowing all over when I got a text from him. Like if you turned out the lights, I’d provide my own luminescence. I knew it was dangerous, but I told myself it was a harmless friendship. Nothing had happened between us, not even in words.
But I knew how much I wanted it to become more than that. The power of my attraction to him grew every day. I understood that I might be experiencing Romeo and Juliet syndrome, the thrill of the forbidden calling to me, making me want what I couldn’t have. But I’d never been prone to that before. I’d been with Mike for three and a half years. I’d never even looked at another man, and not just because I knew Mike would kill me and the guy if I did.
Now I knew I wasn’t speaking figuratively. It was literal. If Mike had cut off some guy’s finger and laughed about it, keeping the digit as a souvenir and showing it off around the bar with his friends, what would he do if he had a personal vendetta? If he thought I had cheated on him? He’d kill me. I knew it with certainty.
Each time he got rough with me now, I didn’t try to explain it away or excuse it. I let myself acknowledge how much it hurt on so many levels, and I used it to steel my resolve. I needed to get away. That was the real reason I said yes to every extra shift. I squirreled away each and every extra cent I made, withdrawing it in cash in regular intervals and hiding it in a backpack I kept balled up in the back of a closet. Mike never scrutinized our monthly spending as long as nothing caught his eye on our joint bank balance or credit cards. As long as the numbers looked about what he expected them to be, he didn’t ask any questions. I hoped that stayed the same for another few months. I figured I could have enough saved by then to put down first and last on an apartment somewhere. I hadn’t figured out where yet, or how to prevent Mike from tracing where I fled. But I’d figure that out. I had to.
And I had to do it before I did anything stupid. There was only so long a situation could heat up before it boiled over. Last month when Jax and I had folded sheets in the supply room, it had almost happened. That day, the two of us standing close, doing something so domestic and strangely intimate together, him trusting me enough to share a painful story from his past, it had taken all the willpower and self-restraint I possessed to tell him I had to go. I’d had to force myself away from him, use all my strength to walk out the door and down the hallway. All I’d wanted was to drop that sheet and throw my arms around him, lick his neck, lift up his shirt and trail my fingers down every chiseled, muscular inch.
I’d have shocked him, I was sure. He knew I was married. I wore the ring. He even knew Mike. Ace Bar wasn’t his favorite, but Mike went there from time to time. And besides that, I knew I wasn’t the type of woman Jax would go for. He was so hot I bet he turned heads when he walked around, women losing their balance and spilling their drinks as they saw him stroll by. He probably caused traffic accidents by crossing the street.
As for me? I’d never stood out in a crowd. I looked fine, but nothing special with my mousy brown hair and pale skin and a few extra pounds on my hips and thighs. Jax was probably just being nice to me, grateful that I was nice to his grandfather. Not every elderly relative got treated right. He was probably just putting in some time with me as a thank you for doing right by Ace.
But sometimes I admitted to myself that it didn’t feel that way. It felt like we liked each other, in that charged, special way when you knew the attraction was mutual. When Jax looked at me, it was like his mouth watered at the sight. He made me feel like I was gorgeous and desirable and everything I’d pretty much never felt with another man.
Sure, Mike had been into me at first. But he’d never ravished me the way men did in romance novels. He’d never made me feel like he couldn’t get enough of me. Occasionally, at first, he’d told me I looked hot in my jeans, so I should take them off. Sex with Mike was always quick and to the point. And sex with Mike was all the sex I’d had.
The truth was, I’d never had an orgasm with a man. I’d become fairly skilled at giving them to myself, but my couple of boyfriends during my teen years hadn’t done the deed. And Mike? Even when we’d had sex, it was a one-and-done type of deal. That one was always him, never me.
What would it be like with Jax? His hands were so big. The way he looked at me, I could imagine him down between my legs, doing all sorts of things that made me drunk with pleasure. When it was just me, late at night, alone in bed, I could lose myself to fantasies. Mike was never around anymore. I didn’t know where he was spending his nights, and I didn’t care. I knew he was probably with another woman. From my perspective, that was perfect. It kept him distracted, buying me time to save up money so I could leave. And it gave me the space I wanted to dream about Jax.
I did it every night, twisting up the sheets as I touched myself. Sometimes with my fingers, sometimes with my vibrator, I lost myself in fantasy, imagining all the ways he and I could find ourselves alone. What if the bus ran late and he happened to be driving by? Or what if he happened to leave Ace’s apartment at the same time as my shift ended? He’d offer me a ride, and there we’d be, just the two of us, surrounded by the growing darkness outside as we shared the cab of his truck. Sitting that close, with him so huge, we’d brush against each other, his arm against my breast, my knee against his thigh. I could smell him, watch the Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, lean over and give him a hug to thank him and say goodbye. Only once I was pressed against him, maybe we wouldn’t say goodbye after all.
But I had to try to tamp all that down when I actually saw him in person. It wasn’t easy. I was sure I gave away all the telltale signs of intense attraction, blushing, flushing, practically blooming whenever I saw him. One time he’d slid his hand along my lower back, guiding me along in the hallway. I’d had to close my eyes it felt so good. My nipples had stiffened, with a shiver down my spine and a throb right between my legs. He had to know the effect he had on me.
As much as I hoped that he never found out, I fantasized that he did. By myself, in the bath, I’d slip a finger down and imagine it was his. What if he cornered me somewhere no one could see? In the empty staff room, a back stairwell, a supply closet, I could picture him wrapping me in his arms, kissing me, telling me he couldn’t hold back anymore.
I might try to do the right thing and tell him I didn’t want him. But what if he listened to the signals of my body instead? What if he slid his large, powerful hand down where he shouldn’t? Imagining one of his thick, rough fingers sliding along my pussy, discovering how wet he made me, I’d moan, almost hearing the groan he’d make in his throat, the hiss of his breath as he found out, without a doubt, what he did to me. Then I’d have no choice. I’d have to surrender to the floodtide of arousal building inside me, growing more impossible to fight each day. No more pretending, no more hiding, he’d know I wanted him so much it kept me awake at night. That moment of discovery, when it all came tumbling down around us, always made me cum. And as I shuddered and trembled and cried out his name it was always his fingers that I fantasized were deep inside of me.
But that couldn’t happen. So when I caught a glimpse of J
ax walking in to visit Ace one afternoon in late June, I forced myself to do all my other rounds first before I checked in on Ace. That way, I could at least feel like I hadn’t run straight to Jax. Even if I wanted to do exactly that.
When I finally walked in, Jax was fastening a button on Ace’s shirt. Ace batted him away as I arrived, probably a little embarrassed that he was getting help. But my heart melted for them both, Ace for the difficulties of aging, struggling with shaking hands. And with Jax, it honestly killed me to see him standing there looking like such a muscled badass, but having the patience and gentleness to button up his grandfather’s shirt.
I’d promised myself I’d play it cool next time I saw him. That plan failed instantly.
“It’s so good to see you both!” I gushed, walking over, barely restraining myself from giving them both big hugs.
“Just who we wanted to see!” Ace announced. “We’re going for a walk. Join us.”
Who was I to say no? It was a gorgeous day, sunny and cheerful. The rays felt glorious on my skin and we wove our way slowly around the courtyard. I didn’t know if Ace was doing it on purpose, but he kept leaving Jax and me alone together as he chatted with other residents. It felt like he was purposely giving us time to spend on our own. Something about it felt like an old-fashioned courtship, strolling along the manor as our chaperone discretely engaged in conversation while keeping a watchful eye. Yes, I’d read some regency romances. And not just to the residents at Cavallo Canyon Retirement Community.
I had to admit, there was something to old-fashioned courtships. Without the opportunity to jump each other like wild, sweaty beasts, Jax and I were forced to get to know each other. Over the last few weeks, between texts and a few visits, I’d been learning about his daily life, including all the challenges of running a bar that catered to a pretty rough crowd.
“How was your night last night?” I asked.
“Lots of beards.”
“Excuse me?”
“They’re popular now, you know? Practically every guy in the bar had one.” He glanced at me, stroking his chin. “What do you think about beards?
“Not the hugest fan,” I admitted. Personally, I figured Jax could pull off anything he wanted. But in general, beards were a no for me.
“It’s funny to see some skinny college hipster wearing boots, a flannel and a beard sitting next to a Skull in the exact same thing.”
I laughed, picturing it. He looked at me like he was memorizing my face, my smile. “How about you?” he asked. “How’s your day going so far?”
“I sang ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ three times. I may never be able to listen to that song again.” I told him a little more about my rounds. But then, in the sunshine, feeling playful, I turned to him. “So tell me. If you could pick any place in the world, where would you open up a bar?”
“Hmm, anywhere in the world…” He ran a hand over his head as he contemplated my question. I’d noticed he had a habit of doing that, especially when he’d shaved it. I loved it when he did that. It made him look so impossibly badass. Then again, I also loved it when he let his hair grow short and cropped like a military man. I had a feeling he’d look hot as hell no matter what he did. I didn’t really care what he did with his hair, what I wanted was to get the chance to run my hands all over it the way he got to do. That was how bad I had it. I was jealous of his hands.
“On an island,” he decided, giving me a grin. “Somewhere people are on vacation. So they’re in a good mood, not looking to get in a fight.”
“Sounds great to me.” I could picture myself enjoying something fruity and fun at his bar, letting the island breeze blow through my hair.
