Page 27 of Jax

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?

13

Though I come down the stairs in someone else’s clothes, I feel more like myself than I have in ages. Leenie walks into the room with Max on her heels. She smiles at me, eyeing me up and down. She’s pleased her clothes fit me, and in reality, so am I. I haven’t had a decent pair of clothes in a long time. Everything I have is purchased for me for a reason. The revealing top to distract the guy so that one of Psycho’s crew can rob him. The demure sweater so that I can con the nice professor or the grandfather.

My life is a stage…and I’m just acting in it.

These clothes are different. They’re just…that. Clothes. They’re not for any other purpose than to cover up my body with something that looks reasonably good.

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