Jax by E. M. Moore
12
The longer I’m here, the more I don’t understand this new scenario I find myself in. Jax can’t stand me, yet I’m here in his house. So far, he hasn’t made me miserable though he is avoiding me. Finn’s girlfriend is acting as if we’re best buds, or maybe I’m her little doll while she plays nurse. I’m really not sure. By every right, she should hate me out of loyalty to the brothers but for some reason, she doesn’t.
And her brother’s a gang member...
Shit has definitely changed since the last time I was here.
I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The water turns on in the other bathroom, startling me. Leenie said I could use this one while she uses the other. She didn’t explicitly say that this is Jax’s but his personality is written all over this room. Everything is tidy. The counter and the sink are wiped clean. There’s absolutely nothing out on it but the soap dispenser. I pull out a drawer and find his comb and Q-tips. The medicine cabinet behind his mirror boasts his deodorant and hair gel. The same from when we were together.
I quickly close the mirror, face flaming. I have no right to go through his things. Not to mention that it’s been a few days since I’ve even showered, so I’m probably discarding skin follicles onto his sink that he’ll notice, giving him yet another reason to hate me.
Slowly, I peel back my shirt and find a few bruises on my shoulders. They’re a lot lighter than the ones on my face, so they’re probably not even from last night. I undress, leaving the clothes in a pile on the floor before turning to start the shower. Within a few minutes, steam starts to rise up and coat me in a sheen. It feels blissfully warm. It’s hard to get even lukewarm water at the storage facility so this will be a treat.
I step inside, letting the pelts of spray massage my skin. There’s no visible dirt sluicing off me but this feels like a cleansing in more ways than one. For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I’ve escaped Psycho. I’ve had to do jobs away from him before so the only difference with this one is the fact that I’m back in this house and back under Jax’s watchful eye. I know it’s a disdainful eye right now, and though I tell myself not to get my hopes up, they are anyway.
He came all the way to the Flats to get me. He lured me back here. There has to be some reason why he did that, and not because of my well-being or because Leenie wanted him to. Deep, deep down, there must be a reason. Otherwise, I know Jax. He would’ve let me rot there. His patience only goes so far. You make too many stupid decisions, he’ll no longer help you—and damn, he and I have been through a lot.
My hair lies like a wet sheet down past my shoulder blades. It hangs heavy as I stand under the water. At the storage facility, I don’t get to enjoy bathing time. It’s in and out as fast as I can so this feels like heaven on earth.
The door creaks open, and I step out of the spray, wiping at my eyes. It clicks shut, and I’m about to stick my head outside the shower to see if Leenie left me clothes when a tattooed hand pulls the shower curtain open. I step back, only I hit the curve of the tub and have to grip the wall to keep from falling. “Jax!”
He folds his arms in front of himself, taking me in like he has every right to be in this bathroom with me. I suppose it is his bathroom but I’m currently occupying it, and last I knew, he didn’t want anything to do with me.
“What are you doing?” I just stand there without bothering to cover up. He’s seen it all before. He’s well acquainted with every square inch of me.
“Too skinny.”
“Not like I pictured.”
His words from last night pinch my chest.
“It’s my bathroom,” he answers, not taking his eyes off my tits.
I flick my gaze toward the door. I can’t hear the other shower over this one, so I have no idea if Leenie’s still in the bathroom or within earshot of everything that’s going on in this one.
“She’s not going to save you.”
I lick my lips, my gaze darting to his own. “I don’t need saving. Never needed it before, and I sure as hell don’t need it now.”
“So, I suppose you’re fine with going back to your delinquent boyfriend then?”
I place my hands on my hips, trying to get a read off him. He knows someone who could tell him where Psycho lives, so does that mean he knows what Psycho and his little gang of fuck-offs do?
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jax tacks on. “Your abusive, delinquent boyfriend. You’re right though. You don’t need saving at all.”
His words punch a hole through my gut. The only guy who ever wanted to save me is standing in front of me, flinging insults my way. “Get out,” I snarl.
“No can do. My bathroom, and it’s my shower time.” He peels his shirt off his delicious body. Slowly, his form comes into view inch by perfect inch. His new-to-me ink is faded, only driving the point home that it’s been a while since I’ve been in his life. When he drops his hands to his pants, I try to see the tattoos on his knuckles, but I only make out the fact that they’re letters before he shoves his pants down, revealing his healthy cock that’s semi-hard between two tree trunk thighs.
“What? Last night wasn’t enough?” I ask, lifting a brow at him.
He snickers. “Yeah, I remembered why I forgot about you the second you ruined my life. It wasn’t that good.” He steps over the side of the tub, crowding me into the back.
My heart takes off, beating a rhythm of skepticism and hurt. “You sure like to get naked around me for a guy who doesn’t want me. Or what was it that you said yesterday, ‘I owe you.’”
“I was drunk.”
“Sober enough to get off,” I retort.
“It’d been so long I’d probably cum from sticking my dick in a hot dog bun.”
Well, that’s a picture.
Shower spray ricochets off him and drips down his chiseled muscles. I can’t help but take my fill. I’m too busy doing my own inspection that I don’t see him doing the same until I meet his gaze again. It’s another fifteen seconds of me watching his perusal of my body before he looks into my eyes. A quick peek south tells me he definitely likes what he sees. He can deny it all he wants. “Is this about me, right now? Or what we used to be?” I ask as I step forward, wrapping my fist around his cock.
He pushes my hand away, jaw ticking. Jax doesn’t make brash decisions. Everything is measured and weighed. His brain holds about as much clutter as his bathroom countertop. He’s as cut and dry as you can get, which is why I’m surprised at his indecision.
“I want to make you pay for what you did.” He pauses for another long moment. “But I can’t get you out of my head either.”
I stare down at the tub floor, watching the water run toward the drain. He’s not going to ask me for it, but I know what he wants. His body and his brain are at odds.
I drop to my knees, his thick cock bobbing in front of me. “Punish me then.”
A growl emanates from deep in his chest. My stomach swirls with unease as he towers above me. This is the exact position I hate to be in, but with Jax, it’s different.
He pumps his hips forward until his silky head brushes my sore lips. “You want this?”
This would be the point where I’d lie with Psycho but I don’t need to with Jax. “Yes,” I say, voice all throaty like I’m a phone sex worker.
“Open up, Sadie, and I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
My lips part seemingly of their own volition. Immediately, he steps forward, his cock slipping past my lips until it hits the back of my throat. I moan, closing my mouth around him. He bucks forward, nearly choking me until I pull back with practiced, measured ease.
I slip my fingertips up the back of his thighs and dig them into his sculpted ass. His salty taste coats the back of my tongue as I deep throat him.
“Fuck,” he growls, sliding his fingers into my hair. He grips a whole section. “I hate that you’re better at this now. How many dicks have you sucked, Sadie?”
I flinch away. His biting hold echoes the pain of last night. I narrow my gaze and attempt to tell him to fuck off but he takes control, bucking forward and moving my mouth down over him. His grip is punishing. So much so that I didn’t think Jax had it in him. He doesn’t even give me a chance to breathe let alone set the pace while his grunts fill the shower. Tears prick my eyes as he uses me. He stares forward at the shower wall behind my head, jaw taut as he fucks my mouth.
I move my grip to his hips, digging my nails into his side but he doesn’t stop until his movements stutter. Then, at the last possible moment, he pulls out, rivulets of cum splashing against my bruised lips and chin and dripping to my breasts.
He stands above me, trying to get his breathing under control as pleasure rolls through him. It’s visibly obvious how excited he got, and a little part of me sours inside. The part that thought Jax was my savior is dwindling little by little. It’s a hope I dared dream but it’s bleeding out of me like the water swirling down the drain.
“I hope they were all worth it,” he says, turning to let the shower spray run down him again.
I get up on shaky legs, holding my arms around myself to ward off the cold. “Who?” I ask, glaring daggers at his back.
“All those guys you fucked after me.”
I grind my teeth together, trying to think of the perfect thing to say. I don’t deserve his sympathy. Why tell him what happened to me after I fucked him over? He shouldn’t care. In fact, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a damn because if he did, he never would have used me like this. I want to say something cutting but the only thing that comes out is on a whimper I wished like hell I could hold back. Jax doesn’t need to use his fists to hurt me, his words are everything. “You’ve changed,” I accuse.
He glares at me over his shoulder. “Thanks to you.”
Then, he steps out of the shower, pulling the curtain closed once more. The door opens so fast I’m certain he’s returning to his room buckass naked.
A shiver runs through me, and I reach up shaking fingers to pass over my worn lips. Being here is fruitless. He’ll never forgive me. We’ll never skip off into the sunset together. However, he’s the lesser of two evils now. At least I want to have sex with Jax. Psycho would do what Jax just did. Only worse, I wouldn’t like any of it.
Even now, I can feel the pulse between my legs, a heated core begging for relief. I don’t know what would be worse. Lady blue balls? Or taking care of business with thoughts of someone who doesn’t want me in my head?
I take a deep breath and turn the temperature up on the shower, letting the heat wipe me clean. I don’t get out until I can think clearly without wanting to follow Jax into his room and make him fuck me to relieve the pressure.
When I step out onto the bathmat, I find clothes folded inside the door. I blow out a breath, wondering which part of my bathroom experience Leenie walked in on? The section where Jax fucked my mouth? Or the one where I stood there in self-loathing?
