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I just needed to word it the right way.
ChapterTwenty
Arlo
The room was bathedin the soft glow of the television screen as we both sat on the smaller of the two sofas, since Charlie was sprawled in the center of the larger one. A bucket of popcorn was the only thing separating us, and Jax had taken charge of the remote after we’d wrestled for it, and I’d let him win.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked, scrolling through movies.
“Something easy,” I said because I knew I didn’t have the brainpower to follow something complicated. Not to mention me wanting to drag him to bed. I kept my gaze fixed on Charlie, watching the rise and fall of his chest, wishing he was awake because, then, we’d have something to distract us. He was due to wake up soon for his ten o’clock feeding, and once that was done, and we’d cuddled and played with him, it was unspoken that we’d be heading up to my room. But Charlie showed no sign of waking up. Why had I agreed to stay and watch a movie when that meant I’d be sitting next to Jax and trying not to think about getting him into bed as soon as I could?
“How about a sad movie to kill time?” he deadpanned, knowing how much I hated them.
“How about not.” I liked my happy endings. Ireallywanted him to straddle my lap so we could kiss, and I patted my knee. “How about you sit here, and we make out until Charlie wakes up.”
He shot me an amused glance. “And how will that end?”
With one of us on our knees probably.
I sighed, hating that he was right. “Jeez, okay,” I grumbled without heat, then smirked as I kissed him and sat back. “Choose a movie already, Byrne.”
He channel surfed but didn’t stay on one long enough to make an informed decision, and in the end, he reversed direction and landed on a rerun of an old gameshow. It was nothing more than white noise; the fake clapping and dramatic lighting was good enough to take the edge off the silence we had going on.
“Help yourself,” Jax murmured and indicated the popcorn.
I slid down a little, making myself comfortable, then sitting up again when my T-shirt tightened over my belly. I didn’t carry a load of extra weight—my job was too physical for that—but I wasn’t toned and model-muscled, and drawing attention to the soft bits of me was a big fat no, even if Jax said it was perfect. What he’d said that about me pulling in clients if I kept my shirt off? I’d wanted to argue, but then he’d kissed me, and hell if I know how, but he’d made me feel beautiful. I wriggled again, letting go of the T-shirt, but it was a very small sofa, and Jax placed a hand on my thigh,
Right there.
On. My. Thigh.
“Stop wriggling.”
I stared at his hand, which he hadn’t moved, and then, sat as still as I could. If I didn’t move, maybe he’d leave his hand where it was, and then, maybe he’d walk his fingers up to my?—
“Eat your popcorn,” he said, squeezed my knee, and removed his hand, despite the fact that I was hard and verging on desperate. I reached for the buttery goodness, my shoulder brushing his, a fleeting touch of fingers as he went for the popcorn at the same time. I pulled my handful back as fast as I could, dropping half of it in my lap. Two of the pieces stuck to my T-shirt, right on the curve of my belly, and I nearly died when Jax reached out to tidy them up.
I jumped when his fingers grazed the shirt, feeling his touch all the way from my lips to my cock, and fuck, this was hell. I wanted a kiss. The shirt was long enough to cover that up, but he wasn’t moving his hand again; he’d placed it on my belly, and then, he stroked.
There was a definite stroke.
“You said we couldn’t do anything until Charlie was?—”
“I love this bit of you,” he murmured, and I heard an embarrassingly small whimper that I’m afraid had come from me.
“I’m too… uhm… my belly is…”Words. I have no freaking words.
With a sigh, Jax relaxed into the sofa, his legs up on the table, then leaned his head against my shoulder, his palm still flat on my belly, mere inches from the tip of my cock, which was entirely on board with whatever was happening here. The world outside meant nothing—it was him touching me, and I didn’t understand what he was doing by teasing me, and teasing himself, if the tent in his sweats was anything to go by.
“We should get a tree soon,” Jax pondered and waved a hand to the sunroom. He loved Christmas, and I’d already spotted a tiny desk tree in his kitchen, complete with twinkly white lights. “A real one.” I nodded, because he’d usedweagain, and I was warm from my head to my toes. “Then, we can put Charlie’s gifts under it, all different color paper.”
“Good idea.”
He sighed. “That’s if Charlie is still here.”
I hummed at his comment, not sure whether to reassure him or not.
“Arlo?”
