Jackson: A Sexy Bastard Novel (12 page)

N
ow this is
my kind of date.

The two men facing off in the middle of the ring look monstrous. One, a beefy-looking blonde, has blood leaking out of both his nose and his left ear, and the other, who is smaller, darker, and scrappier, came into the fight with a black eye. The crowd is roaring. The warehouse smells like sweat. And I am
amped
.

“So what do you think?” Cassie hooks a thumb toward the fighters and nods her head at me. “Miller or Ramirez?”

“Ramirez, definitely. Did you see his last roundhouse kick?”

With an approving grin, Cassie turns back to the fight. She is truly stunning, with or without that glittery body-hugging sheath. It’s no wonder Ryder fell for her. Everyone tonight is dressed to kill, which makes me glad I finally went with the backless Armani dress. It’s the most expensive thing I own, but that’s the point: with four-inch stilettos and a knockoff Coach clutch, I look expensive. Plus, when was the last time I dressed up? In fact, the last time I wore this dress, it was to crash a VIP party in Miami with . . . .

I refuse to even think his name. Instead, I reach beside me and give Jackson’s knee a squeeze. He looks down in surprise.

“You enjoying this?” he asks, placing his hand atop mine.

“Absolutely.”

Giving him one more squeeze, I turn back to the fighters. As I predicted, Ramirez is destroying Miller with one powerful kick after another. Finally, the two men fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and I can tell Miller is going to tap out. He looks exhausted, and his nose is literally gushing now, spraying crimson all over both men. When his head turns toward me, his teeth are gritted in determination but I can see it in his eyes: he’s finished.

Finally, the bell rings, Ramirez raises his arms in triumph, and the crowd goes wild. Bookies pay out bets, losers slink away, and the rest of the masses swarm to the bar where Cash and his coworker Katie frantically try to keep up with their overwhelming thirst.

“I don’t come to these often,” Jackson says, “but every time I’ve come, there’s been a knockout.”

“Hasn’t been one tonight, though,” Shelby chimes in from farther down the row of seats. “I thought for sure Miller would crack him.”

“No way.” Knox shakes his head. “Ramirez had him on puppet strings the whole time.”

“Sucks that Ruby couldn’t come tonight,” Savannah, the blonde lawyer dating Cash, laments. “She would have loved Ramirez.”

“Tall, dark and handsome?” I ask.

“Well, he’s not very tall,” Savannah says. “But he
is
Latin.”

Cassie, Shelby, and Avery all crack up. Apparently, as I gather from their ensuing comments, Ruby aspires to have at least one “Latin lover” before she dies.

“Do you want another drink?” Jackson asks, motioning to my empty martini glass. I look him up and down, drinking in his square jaw and broad shoulders. Ramirez doesn’t have shit on him.

“Sure, hit me.”

“Dirty with a twist?”

“That’s right. The same way I like my men.” I hand him the glass with a wink and he walks away laughing.

“Jackson, laughing at dirty jokes,” Savannah muses, watching Jackson’s retreating back. “Who would have fucking thought?”

“I called it,” Shelby declares. “I knew she’d be good for him.”

Then, taking a step away from Knox, she whirls on me and puts a hand on her hip.

“I know you guys aren’t ‘dating’ or whatever, but I’m going to tell you something. It’s the honest truth, and all of us agree: you are the best thing that has ever happened to my brother.”

I don’t know what to say. I can feel blood creeping up my neck and flooding my face, but there’s no stopping it, so I just look at the floor.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Savannah reaches for my arm. “It’s awesome. He’s so much looser these days. Finally fucking relaxed a little.”

“Yeah,” Cassie adds, “and he hasn’t asked about The Library’s finances once in the past week. I’m pretty sure that’s some kind of record.”

“Isn’t Parker supposed to be your finance guy?” Avery asks.

“Yeah, well, try telling Jackson that. ‘Guys, are we under budget? Is everything on plan?’” Cassie does a spot-on imitation of Jackson, wrinkling her brow and biting her lip.

“He even seems less stressed about that Halford asshole,” Shelby adds. “And I never thought that guy would get out from under his skin. He seems like a real piece of work.”

I can’t help smiling to myself. Apparently I
am
a good distraction.

“What?” Shelby is staring at me curiously, and I snap myself back to the present.

“Nothing. That’s really sweet of you guys to say.”

Shelby shrugs. “It’s the truth.” Cassie, Savannah, Avery, and Knox all nod in agreement.”

“Well, now that we’ve said our piece, I’m gonna go see if Ryder needs any help.” Cassie smooths down her dress and looks around. “Savannah, Avery, you want to come with?”

They saunter off, and Shelby turns to me. “I think Knox and I are gonna go grab drinks. You need anything?”

“Nope. Jackson’s got me.”

“Okay. We’ll be back.” With that, they head toward the bar, and I’m left staring into the empty ring. There’s blood spattered across the mat, and something small and gleaming catches my eye. I stand and lean over the ropes to get a better look: it’s a metal filling.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on my back.

Whirling, I come face-to-face with a tall dark-haired man. His hair is oiled and slicked back behind his ears, and his shirt collar is open just far enough to reveal two thick gold chains and a smattering of chest hair. He’s standing much, much too close to me, eyeing me up and down. I take one stutter-step to the left, and he lets out a low whistle.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. What are you drinking?”

“No thanks. I’m taken care of.”

“Are you?” He closes the tiny gap I’ve created between us and bends his mouth toward my ear. “Because I know just how to take care of a woman like you.”

“Really.” I tilt my head up to look at him, simultaneously balling my hands into fists. “And what kind of woman is that?”

“Is there a problem here?”

We both turn to find Jackson standing behind us, a martini in one hand, beer in the other. He’s completely motionless, except for the twitch of the muscle right below his jaw.

“Not unless you make one.” The man leans back against the ropes and places a hand squarely in the middle of my back. “I’m just talking to . . . .” He looks down at me. “I guess I never asked your name.”

I’m suddenly regretting my choice in attire, because as he moves his hand down my back, the lack of material allows it to slide lower and lower until he’s essentially touching my bare ass.

“My name is Skylar.” I shift away from him and step toward Jackson. “Feel free to say it when you’re jerking off alone tonight.”

“Hey, you can’t talk to me that way, you little slut.” Before I realize what’s happened, he has me by the arm and is yanking me toward him. I stumble in my stilettos, nearly falling headlong into the side of the ring, but in the next instant, he’s released me. When I regain my footing, I find Jackson up in his face, backing him against the ring.

“She said she’s not interested.”

The man sneers, even as he steps backward. “She seemed pretty interested a minute ago.”

My heart leaps into my throat as I watch Jackson make a fist. I want to cry out, but before I can make a sound, Shelby’s voice comes ringing through the crowd.

“Jackson, stop!”

The next thing I know, Knox is grabbing Jackson’s arms. He says something quietly to Jackson, who seems to calm down immediately. But then the other man, sensing an advantage, makes a sound at the back of the throat and hocks up a glob of mucus, launching it directly onto Jackson’s shoes.

“Go ahead,” he snarls. “Run back to your little cunt girlfriend.”

In the next instant, Jackson is surging forward, attempting to swing at the guy, but Knox has him by both arms now, and wrestles him through the crowd, toward the back entrance of the warehouse.

“Come on.” Shelby takes me by the arm and we push through the crowd after the two men.

O
utside
, I shake Knox off and stumble away.

What
was
that? What am I
doing?
The last time I swung at a guy, it was—

“Holy shit, Jacks.”

The girls burst through the doors after us, and Shelby runs up to me. The look on her face is one of . . .
excitement
.

“I’ve only seen you get that worked up once, and it was the time you found out I was hooking up with one of your best—”

“Babe.” Knox grabs her arm and she stops herself.

“Okay, but I’m just saying. Goddamn. If you guys aren’t actually dating . . . .” She trails off, leaving me and Skylar to glance awkwardly at one another. I grit my teeth and glare at my shoes. She’s right, after all. If we’re not dating, then what am I doing? Skylar can flirt with whomever she wants. Yet, the thought of him touching her makes me want to sprint back inside and start pounding his face with my fists.

I stare at her, each sharp plane of her cheekbones casting a shadow in the weak lamplight. Her hair is wild, tendrils sprung loose from her bun and curling around her face in soft, pale wisps.

This isn’t the sort of girl I should be falling for: someone who makes me want to kill anyone who touches her. There’s no place for that in my life. I just want a house and kids and a dog and my own stable, successful business. Landing in jail for battery and assault doesn’t quite fit in with that vision.

But fuck, picturing Skylar’s face when he grabbed her gets my blood boiling all over again.

“Are you okay?” She takes a hesitant step forward, coming farther into the weak light coming from above the warehouse entrance. Damn those heels make her legs look incredible. It’s amazing how my heart can be racing from anger one moment and lust the next. That’s what this woman does to me. I don’t know if I like it or not.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” I rake a hand through my hair, watching the headlights of a car retreat out of the parking lot before refocusing on her. “What were you doing, talking to that guy?”

At first, she looks surprised, but then her expression morphs into one of anger. “Well, first of all,
he
approached
me
, although it seems like you’re insinuating something else.”

“Uh-oh,” Knox says under his breath.

“We’re gonna leave you guys to it,” Shelby interrupts, taking Knox by the elbow and leading him back inside. When the door slams behind them, Skylar turns back to me, eyes blazing.

“Secondly, you don’t own me. I can talk to whomever I damn well please.”

“That’s not what—”

“Thirdly, I could have dealt with that guy just fine by myself. I know self-defense; I learned it when I got out of the hospital and realized I was going to have to fend for myself for the rest of my life.”

“Skylar—”

“I’m not done.” She struts up to me and grips my shirt in her hand. “And finally, it was goddamn sexy to see you come in, guns blazing. The first time, at Lace, I thought you were drunk. I didn’t think a guy like you would ever get in a fight over a girl. But you’re not drunk now, are you?”

I shake my head, breathing in the smell of her: vodka and sweat and that ever-present lavender. Unable to resist, I lace my hands through her hair and inhale deeply.

“God, Skylar, what are you doing to me? I almost hit that fucking guy.”

“How did it feel?” Her fingers find their way under my shirt and press into my abs.

“It felt reckless. I was out of control.” I walk her backward, into the shadows, cupping her ass with both hands. The dress is so tight it’s practically nonexistent.

Three more steps and my knuckles hit brick. We’re against the wall of the warehouse, three feet from a decrepit loading dock that clearly hasn’t been used in years.

“So it felt like this?” she asks, body tensing as I slide one hand around to the front of her dress and trace the sheer fabric down her center.

“Nowhere near as good.”

I push her against the wall and angle my rock-hard dick between her legs. She thrusts her hips into me in response, and I tilt her chin, finally devouring her mouth. Her taste is sharp and sweet, invading my senses like chloroform. I push my tongue further into her mouth, wanting to taste more, wanting to taste everything. Her body is a taught wire against me, her hands tangled in my shirt, heart hammering against my chest. She wants me. But I might want her more.

We finally break apart, gasping for air. As she slides her hands up my chest, I play with the hem of her dress, brushing my fingertips against her legs.

“We should go in,” she murmurs.

I kiss her to shut her up, because I don’t want to go in. I want to stay out here, peeling off layer after layer of clothing until nothing is left touching us except the cool night air.

But we should go back. Otherwise, someone might start to wonder if something is actually wrong. Shelby and Knox did leave amidst a rather heated moment—the wrong kind of heat.

Reluctantly, I pull away, trailing a finger across her soft, kiss-swollen lips.

“You shouldn’t do that if we’re trying to go back to your friends, Jackson.” Darting her tongue out, she licks the tip of my finger. I swallow hard but manage to pull it away. Then, I begin the painstaking process of untangling our bodies.

“We should go back. Shelby might come looking for us if we don’t.”

“And god knows what she’d find.” Skylar eyes me wickedly, but then proceeds to work her dress back into place. I can see her legs trembling, and I have to avert my eyes to keep from slamming her back up against that wall. God how I want to fuck her.

“You ready to go?”

“Oh, I’m ready to go all right.” Her smile is devilish as she reaches out and takes my hand.

“Excellent.” I open the door for her. “We should be just in time for the next fight.”