JAX (The Beckett Boys, Book Two)

C
opyright
© 2016 by Favor Ford Publishing

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

T
his edition
of JAX (The Beckett Boys, Book Two) contains the following bonus content:
SPIKED
, a standalone sports romance novel by Harper James.

W
hen we finally get to
my room and the door closes behind me, I lock it, and Jax steps toward me. He grips the back of my head and slants my mouth in a hard, insistent kiss. I find my knees weakening and I grip him to keep myself standing.

His cock is an iron rod pressed against my thigh. I feel it pulsing, and my pussy clenches in some kind of instinctive need. No, I chant to myself, I can’t do that. No sex. Just…I don’t know what, but I want more of him though. I can’t even imagine the things he could show me. The ways he could please me.

He pulls back and his lips are parted, his eyes dark on mine with the blue of his pupils barely visible. He’s panting, and his breaths are matching my own frantic inhales. “God, I’ve wanted to taste this mouth for far too long now.”

When his fingers reach for the bottom of my shirt, I pause.

He stops moving and swallows. I can see the urgent need in his body, in the tightness of his muscles. “Tell me what you want, darling.”

The fact that he stops instantly and read my nervousness makes me feel a little safer. “Um.” I lick my lips and shrug. “I…don’t quite know. More of what we did before. And I would like to…” I suck in a steeling breath and reach down to touch his huge dick. It jumps under my fingers. “I want to see it and maybe taste it.”

Jax’s groan shudders beneath my skin. I’ve only touched a naked dick once before, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing then. But with Jax right now, I feel like that doesn’t matter. He just wants my hands on him.

I get bolder and cup my hand, run it along the length, over his tight jeans.

More than anything right now, I wish I had the courage to unzip those jeans and take him out, feel it for real, nothing between us.

“God,” he moans, “yes.” His fingers grip my waist under my shirt, but he doesn’t move them. He opens his eyes and looks at me. “I want to put my mouth on that pussy. Let me taste you, Brooklyn. All over.”

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W
hat the hell
am I doing here?

I let out a deep sigh and then check to make sure nobody noticed. This rehearsal dinner isn’t quite what I expected, even though my cousin Aubrey warned me that her fiancé and his brothers were…different.

Turns out that was the understatement of the year.

Nothing Aubrey told me could have prepared me for what I’m seeing, because the Beckett family and their friends are all wild.

Rowdy.

Even a little scary.

They drive motorcycles, pickup trucks, proudly sport tattoos and scars. And although this dinner is a happy occasion, as I sit here at the table, I can practically smell the testosterone in the air.

I know I don’t belong here, and so does anyone else who’s taken so much as a passing glance my way.

Even the women, the girlfriends and wives and friends of the Becketts, make you feel intimidated. They have big boobs and shiny hair, and they flaunt everything proudly.

I take a deep breath and try and remind myself that this is just one wedding. A couple of days to suck it up and then I can go back to my normal, slightly boring life, and forget that this other world even exists.

“You look like you could use a shot,” comes the smooth, masculine voice from just over my shoulder. Someone has approached me from behind. A large hand brushes through my field of vision and places a filled shot glass on the table in front of me.

I turn and find myself looking up at the most gorgeous pair of eyes I’ve ever seen, and a very arrogant smirk that says he knows it, too.

This is Jax Beckett, the dead-sexy middle brother. The guy who, three minutes into the rehearsal, was already working his charm on every bridesmaid in the lineup. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw him stuffing a pair of black panties into his jeans pocket earlier.

Cousin Aubrey warned me that Jax was a handful, and now that he’s up close and personal with me, I can understand why. His charisma and self-confidence radiates from him like heat.

I can’t speak. I just sort of mumble something that sounds like “Thanks.”

“Are you gonna drink it?” he asks, chuckling. “Here, I’ll have one, too.” He holds his own shot out towards me.

Jax stands there, waiting for my response, showing off his lean and tight muscles, the dark jeans molded to him like a second skin, his goofy T-shirt bearing the image of a tux cummerbund and ruffles down the front but somehow looking absurdly good on his expansive chest. I don’t see any tattoos on him, but I’d bet anything he has something on his torso, maybe even his thigh. A little “surprise” for the ladies he beds, something that makes her feel like she’s sharing a secret with him. His dark blond hair is a little shaggy on top, his jaw clean-shaven.

Everything about this man screams sex.

“Fine,” I mutter, picking up the shot glass and sniffing it.

“To my big bro Smith, for getting lucky and finding his girl,” Jax says.

“Her name is Aubrey,” I remind him.

He grins wider. “I know her name, hon,” he winks, and then downs the shot.

I close my eyes and manage to get the burning liquid down my throat, and then when I open them again, Jax has already gone, vanished, back to his seat as if he was never even there.

The only proof I have is the empty shot glass on the table in front of me, and the tears streaming from my eyes, which I quickly wipe away.

This is crazy. I’m in a Quentin Tarantino movie, and my cousin is marrying into a family of bar owning bikers or something.

Sitting just down at the other end of the table from me, I have a good angle on Aubrey and her fiancé, Smith, and I can’t help staring at them now, watching them, trying to understand how this all even happened.

Did Aubrey lose her mind?

But then I watch as Smith leans over toward my cousin and sweeps a lock of hair from her face. His touch is so gentle, his eyes locked on her and so filled with passion, that my heart clenches in jealousy and sudden understanding of how Aubrey could fall for a man like him. He brushes a soft kiss on her lips, and she sighs against his mouth, her whole body arching toward him. They murmur quiet words to each other that I can’t hear from my end of the table.

I tear my gaze away from their intimacy. I’ve never had anyone look at me that way. Touch me like that. Make me feel like I’m the center of his universe. What would that feel like?

Yeah, I can see by their interaction why Aubrey is crazy in love. Why my cousin has such a glow about her that she’s never had before.

There’s a light tinkling sound near the far end of the table, and I glance over to see Jax rising with his slender wine glass in his hand, clanking it with a fork.

My heart gives a strange kick at his crooked smile to our group, and I push the reaction back in self-disgust.

This guy has player written all over him. My sister had her heart broken by a guy like Jax—smooth talker, smoking hot in bed, always had an excuse for the shit he pulled, never took responsibility for any of his actions.

In the end, she was left devastated, pregnant, and living with my parents. However hot and sexy and exciting these kinds of men can appear at first—I know what they leave behind in their wake, and it isn’t pretty.

But Jax isn’t bothering to pretend to be anything other than what he clearly is—a hot, arrogant guy who can get laid simply by flashing a smile and buying some desperate girl a drink or two.

Jax’s eyes connect with mine once again as he keeps clanking his glass to get everyone to quiet down. He gives me little more than a passing glance, and then eyes the dipping cleavage of the bridesmaid across from him.

Ugh, and I have to go over and talk to this douche later to help me decorate Aubrey’s car tonight. Twenty bucks says he finds some way to get out of it. Throws me a charming smile and asks me in his sweetest tone if I could
pretty please
just handle it myself, because he’s oh-so busy with whatever the hell guys like him do with their time.

Probably getting wasted, or banging some girl in the closet—that big-breasted bridesmaid, in fact, by the way he’s eye-sexing her.

The crowd quiets down.

Jax puts down his fork and smirks. “Finally. You guys are loud enough to put me to shame.” Shoots that charmer smile of his again and, of course, everyone laughs. I’ve been in Rock Bridge a total of four hours so far, and I’ve already heard all about The Legendary Jax Beckett. Man-whore extraordinaire, and co-owner of a bar appropriately called Outlaws, with older brother Smith and youngest brother, Asher, who’s sitting to Smith’s left.

Jax continues speaking as the laughter dies down. “Okay, we’re all here because tomorrow, my brother is marrying Aubrey, a woman who obviously has no idea what she’s getting herself into with our family.”

Aubrey rolls her eyes at his smirk and shakes her head. “Trust me,
I know
. We all do.”

The table gives another good-natured laugh.

Smith shoots Jax a heated glare, to which Jax chuckles and holds up a hand in defense. “Anyway, I never thought the day would come with the infamous Beckett bachelors would be saying goodbye to one of their own.” Something odd flashes in Jax’s eyes, but he blinks it away and makes his smile wider, teeth gleaming in the glow of the hotel restaurant lights. “Smith couldn’t have found a woman better suited for him though. Aubrey’s strong, caring, and anyone with half a brain can see how much she loves him. And I see firsthand the way her love has changed my brother from a man focused solely on work to a man living his life. Hell, it
almost
makes a guy like me want to settle down.”

Aubrey strokes the back of Smith’s neck and presses a kiss to his cheek. He turns and gives her a smile just for her. The heat between them is palpable and I feel myself blushing, just seeing what’s passing between them.

The bridesmaids all swoon at Jax’s words, a couple of them pressing their hands over their hearts and peering up at him.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes hard at them, at him. He’s saying the right words, seeming like the best brother ever, but it’s totally a veneer. Can’t these girls see that? This entire speech sounds like it’s been crafted to land him in bed with someone.

Jax goes on, talking about his brother and Aubrey’s future, cracking a joke or two, never forgetting to connect eyes with everyone at the table. When his gaze lands on mine, he pauses, blinks, and his smile grows slow and predatory as his eyes narrow.

God help me, I know better. I know better, but something about the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to devour me, makes my lower belly tighten in response. I force myself to give him a disinterested look in return.

He smirks, and I simultaneously feel the urge to kiss him and smack that knowing look off him. Damn him. I keep the blandness on my face, thinking about the most boring things I can—rice crackers, dry wheat toast, elevator music—until he slides his gaze down the line. Finally, Jax lifts his almost empty wine glass and says, “To Smith and Aubrey. May they know infinite happiness and love.”

The crowd applauds and cheers and toasts, and as Jax settles back into his seat, the girls across from him practically throw their clothes at him in an effort to praise him.

I purposely don’t look at him the rest of the dinner.

* * *

T
he wedding party
has a block of rooms at a locally owned hotel on the edge of Rock Bridge. There’s a garden gazebo with an expansive, landscaped lawn and pristine lake, where the wedding is supposed to be held—assuming the weather holds the way it’s predicted to.

Then the reception dinner following immediately after the ceremony will be in the hotel’s large dining hall, which has already been decorated to the nines and is awaiting tomorrow’s festivities.

After the rehearsal dinner, I meander outside past the small cluster of smokers, cinching my light blue jacket a little closer around me, and step into the gardens housing the gazebo and lake. The spring night feels good, though a bit nippy.

Moonlight sparkles in the crisp black sky, and stars glitter above me. The sky is clear and perfect, and I can’t stop staring at it. I’m tempted to lie down in the grass and slide my fingers across the blades, but I can hear voices off near the hotel entrance. I don’t know a lot of people here and I don’t want to embarrass myself.

My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I find a cement bench near the dark gazebo and sit down to peer at the screen. It’s a text from my sister Della.

How’s Aubrey? Is she gorgeous as usual? Send me shots, please! I’ve only seen what she’s posted on Facebook.

I smile. My sister really wanted to come in from upstate New York to the wedding, but since she couldn’t take off work for the event due to just starting there, she told me to keep her updated and send tons of pictures. I reply to Della with a few pictures I took of the happy couple at the reception dinner, then write,
This hotel is PERFECT for a wedding. It’s going to be gorgeous with the budding flowers and the gazebo. Wish u were here, sis! How’s Cam?

A minute later, a picture of a drooling dark-haired toddler fills my screen, and I laugh. God, I love that kid—he’s a handful, to say the least.
My sweet nephew has decided he likes chewing on table legs and even has the dog doing it now. Mom is stroking out and threatening to muzzle Cam, as you can imagine.

SEND HELP AND WINE,
she texts beneath the pic.

That’s hilarious. I miss him, and u!
I text back.
See u guys in a few weeks for graduation—can’t believe it’s already here!!!

My phone buzzes again.
I’m so excited, too! Oh shit, Cam’s eating something off the floor. Gotta go! XO

I laugh again and tuck my phone away. Despite the struggles that come along with being a single parent and just barely in her twenties, Della is getting herself together. She’s got a full-time job now working as a receptionist for a physical therapist’s office, and Cam’s in daycare. Living at home is giving her a chance to save up her money—her plan is to move out and get her own apartment in a year.

My parents were crushed when she confessed she was pregnant, with the daddy nowhere to be found after she told him he knocked her up. But our folks rallied behind her when she said she wanted to keep the child and insisted she move home to get back on her feet. During my school breaks over the last year since Cam was born, I road trip it home and cherish my time with them.

Sometimes, when she thinks no one is looking, I see Della eyeing Cam with the saddest eyes, and it shatters me to pieces. I know what she’s thinking. She should be doing this parenting thing with a partner and not needing her sister and parents to take his place.

Not that Della doesn’t love us—she does, fiercely, and she’s expressed her gratitude time and again to my parents and to me for our help. But it’s not the same as having a person by your side to navigate parenthood with.

Thinking about Della makes me think about her stupid ex, which makes me think about irresponsible men—and the guy I’m supposed to decorate the car with tonight. Right before dinner ended, I pulled Jax aside and asked him to meet me in an hour at Aubrey’s car. He blithely agreed, brushing me off with a wave of his hand, then went right back to talking to the cluster of women around him.