Page 9 of Electric Wounds
I nod, unable to find my voice, the intensity in his gaze leaving me breathless. Jax’s hair is tousled, falling messily around his face, making him look even more rugged than usual. The tattoos on his arms peek out from under his rumpled shirt, briefly drawing my attention. He leans down slowly, his breath warm against my lips, and before I can stop myself, I tilt my chin up, closing the distance between us.
The kiss is deep and slow, sending a spark straight through me. His hand tightens on my hip, pulling me closer as my body responds instinctively, grinding against him in exactly the way I’ve been trying to avoid. My hand snakes into his hair, tangling in the strands, while the other rests against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage as the heat between us builds, a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the fact that we’re sharing such a small space.
Jax’s lips move against mine with a desperate intensity, his hips pressing into me. The sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body, making me moan softly into his mouth. My thoughts blur, consumed by him, by the feel of his body on mine, by the way his lips devour me, and I want nothing more than to lose myself in this moment, in him. Every inch of me is screaming for more, and I start to forget where we are, what this is. Nothing matters but the way his body feels against mine.
Suddenly, the sound of the other guys stirring in their bunks breaks the moment. Jax pauses, his lips hovering just above mine, placing a finger to his lips with a mischievous grin. I biteback a laugh as he leans in for one more lingering kiss, his hips still grinding into mine. My body responds and I release another soft moan, it’s impossible to hold it back. The sensation is overwhelming, and for a split second, everything fades—just the two of us, lost in this stolen moment.
But then, reality comes crashing back as Jax pulls away. I’m breathless, my lips tingling, my body aching with the want for more. His eyes search mine, and for a fleeting moment, I think I see something in them—a mix of regret and longing. But before I can figure it out, he slips out of the bunk, leaving me alone in the tangled sheets.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling of the bunk, trying to catch my breath. My body is still thrumming with the intensity of what just happened, and I can’t shake the feeling of his lips on mine, his body pressed against me. I want to reach out, to pull him back, to finish what we started and ease the ache of my body, but I know that can’t happen.
When it becomes clear he’s not coming back, despite my desperate hopes otherwise, I push the curtain aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bunk. Jax is already in the kitchen, moving around with his usual quiet confidence. His shirt is rumpled, and his hair sticks out in random directions—likely because of my hands. The sight of him like that, looking so casual and comfortable in his skin, makes my stomach twist with a mix of desire and frustration.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself and calm my raging libido. I need a minute to collect my thoughts, so I head toward the small bathroom at the back of the bus. Once inside, I turn on the shower, letting the cold water shake me out of my stupor. Reality filters back in as I stand under the spray. The events of the morning try to replay in my mind—the feel of Jax’s body against mine, the heat of his kiss—and it takes all my willpower to remind myself that this is a job. I’m here tomanage the band, not get swept up in a romance. Besides, Jax is a rockstar. He’s unpredictable, reckless, and last night, he was with a groupie. This isn’t the kind of guy I need in my life.
But as I dry off and get dressed, I know it’s not that simple. The lines between professional and personal are already blurring, and I’m not sure how to stop it. I keep telling myself I’m reading too much into his actions, that I’m just another woman in his orbit. But every time I think I’ve convinced myself, the memory of that kiss sneaks back in, clouding my judgment.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I go through a stern self-talk session. Jax is just good with women, and I needed to be firm, so this morning did not happen again. It could not happen again.
I step out of the bathroom, feeling slightly more composed. The bus is already bustling with activity. Dylan and Marcus are out of their bunks, loudly teasing each other as they move through the small space. Jax is still in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, his expression thoughtful.
He looks up when I approach, giving me a small, easy smile. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, though my heart is still racing from earlier. It feels like he’s already moved past what happened between us, and maybe that’s for the best. “Thanks for... last night. For being there.”
Jax nods, his eyes softening. “Anytime, Lily. Just let me know if you need anything.”
I nod, torn between gratitude and something else. Maybe a little irritation at how easily he seems to move on, while I’m still trying to shake the feeling of him against me. I grab a cup of coffee, glancing at him over the rim of my cup. His muscles shift under his shirt as he moves, and I can’t help but admire the way his body looks so... effortlessly perfect.
I tear my eyes away from him, scolding myself silently. Jax doesn’t need me to fix him, and I can’t let myself get wrappedup in thinking I’m special. He’s a rockstar. People fall at his feet. He’s used to this attention, and I’m just another woman in his orbit. Nothing more.
The guys’ conversation breaks through my thoughts, and I glance up as Dylan and Marcus join us in the kitchen. Dylan’s smirk is immediately aimed at me. “Well, look who’s up early. Surprised you look so well rested, considering.”
Marcus chuckles, sliding into the conversation easily. “Yeah, wasn’t sure if you two would ever leave that bunk. Jax not living up to the hype?”
I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, but before I can respond, Jax rolls his eyes, his expression unbothered. “Knock it off, guys.”
Dylan laughs, but there’s an edge to it. “Just saying, boss. Save some of that energy for the stage, yeah?”
Jax’s jaw tightens. “Don’t start, Dylan.”
“Who’s starting?” Dylan’s tone is mocking now, like he’s trying to get a rise out of Jax. “Just saying, maybe if you focused more on the music and less on?—”
“Enough,” Jax snaps, cutting him off.
The room goes tense, and then Enzo’s voice cuts through the silence, dripping with sarcasm. “Dylan’s got a point, Jax. We wouldn’t want you to trade one distraction for another. Maybe focus on the job for once.”
Enzo’s eyes flick toward me, scanning me up and down before he dismisses me, turning his full attention back to Jax. The tension in the room thickens, so heavy it’s suffocating. I can see the anger flashing in Jax’s eyes, his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. His fists clench, knuckles turning white. Marcus and Dylan go quiet, but even they seem uncomfortable with how far Enzo’s pushing it.
“Shut up, Enzo,” Jax growls, his voice low and dangerous.
“Or what?” Enzo leans back, his smirk widening. “You gonna run off and pout? Maybe ditch us for something better?”
Jax’s body is vibrating with anger now, his fists trembling at his sides. He growls, “We agreed to focus on the tour. Leave this shit alone.”
Enzo shrugs, his smirk never faltering. “Seems ironic coming from you now, Jax. Maybe you should take your own advice. Focus on the music, not on distractions.” His eyes flick back to me, and I feel a wave of heat rush through my body—half embarrassment, half anger.
Jax takes a step forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. “I said enough, Enzo.”
