JAX (The Beckett Boys, Book Two) (3 page)

“But…this isn’t…” She clears her throat. “Isn’t this company money, not yours?” Her uneasiness is palpable.

I stand and face her, resting my hands on her bare upper arms. Her skin is silky, and I find my fingers wrapping around her flesh involuntarily. She peers up into my eyes, hers wide and locked on me, and I’m suddenly overcome again with the urge to taste her. To see if I can nudge a little bit of wildness from her. My cock twitches, and it’s hard to make myself focus on the topic at hand.

“I have a plan,” I murmur in a conspiratorial tone. “I’m just going to borrow the money from here. Then when I find the rings, I’ll return them to the store, get the money back, and then refill the safe. Voila, no one will ever know.”

She arches a brow. “But what if you
don’t
find the rings?”

“Then I’m gonna sling a fuckload of beer for tips to repay it,” I say with a laugh.

The tension ebbs from her. I like seeing her like this, not as uptight, a little softer. It makes her more alluring somehow. All that innocence and sassiness. Such an unusual combination. I like her spirit, even if it has been aimed negatively at me a lot.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her, leaning close and letting my mouth brush her lobe. When I feel her shiver, my cock jumps to life this time and presses against my zipper. “I’ll take care of it.”

“The way you took care of decorating the car with me?” she says, and though I can tell she means to make the words have a bite, they come out more like a breath.

“I definitely owe you for that one.” I let myself breathe in the vanilla-and-strawberry scent of her hair. My blood pounds hard in my veins, and I draw her a fraction closer.

Fuck. The way her head falls back…I want to drag my mouth along her throat and lick her. My dick is throbbing now, and my hands are tightening on her upper arms.

Then she seems to realize where she is and pulls back, swallowing hard and giving me her infamous bland look. “Well, get the money and let’s go. Time’s ticking.”

I pretend like I’m not raging to kiss her mouth hard and give an easy grin. “Stop trying to seduce me—we could already be at the store by now.”

Her face twists, and then she barks out a laugh. “You’re something else, Jax. I know you believe that charm works on every woman, but you need to understand that it won’t work on me. I’m immune to you.”

But there’s a light flush in her cheeks. Her breath is coming out in small pants, and if I’m not mistaken, her nipples are beaded.

Oh, Brooklyn tells herself she’s immune, but she’s not.

Challenge accepted, darling.

I’ll let her think right now that she’s in control, that I believe her words. But her body gives her away. This girl aches to be touched, licked. Fucked.

I open the safe and take out a thousand bucks. That should be enough to cover two gold rings. The bands looked simple in the picture Brooklyn showed me. If that isn’t enough, fuck it. I’ll figure out a good cover story.

* * *

W
e pull back
into the hotel parking lot with twenty minutes to spare. I feel like I just ran a marathon and won first place. My heart is racing with adrenaline. Even Brooklyn’s on edge, keyed up from our success.

The store had the rings in stock. Yeah, we had to use our own hands to try them on and guess the right size—that was kinda fucking surreal, putting on wedding bands with Brooklyn—but shit got done, and here we are.

I take the bag from Brooklyn’s lap, remove the rings from the boxes, and put them in my pocket.

“Are you sure they’re safe there?” she asks me. “If you lose these—”

“If I lose these, just take me out back and shoot me.”

We both laugh, and our eyes linger on each other for a long moment.

Something about sharing the frantic nature of this task allowed Brooklyn to let her guard down, let her walls down. She’s not looking at me like the enemy anymore. Instead, I see glimpses of her peeking at me when she thinks I’m not looking. I see her shifting in her seat, like she’s uncomfortable in her own skin.

Unfamiliar with feeling this type of intense arousal.

The thought that I’m doing this to her makes my own lust roar to the surface. I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a woman before, and I don’t quite know what to do with it. I want to plunge inside her so badly, let her see what she’s missing.

“Well, I guess it’s showtime,” I say. “Gotta get in my tux and help my brother marry the woman of his dreams.” I give a wry grin. “Best of luck to him.”

“Best of luck to
her
,” she retorts, then exits the car and saunters off to the hotel. I watch her walk away, the sway of her hips in that dress, the curve of her calves, her sensible flats.

Brooklyn is a challenge, that’s for sure. I wonder how she is with a couple of drinks in her…will she loosen up? I’m going to make her dance with me tonight. Tell her it’s my payment for her decorating the car—that should fire her up for sure, have her talking about my arrogance again.

I smirk and exit the car too, then head to my room and get my tux on. I’m careful to make sure I keep the rings in sight.

As I dress, reality sinks in. Smith is fucking really doing this. He’s going to get married. Everything will be different now. My brother is living his own life, and I’m happy for him, I guess. But I thought we had a good thing going, just us three brothers—three bachelors.

I tighten the bow, feeling like the fucking thing is strangling me, and exit my room to give my brother away to the woman of his dreams.

T
he springtime air is cool
, but not bad enough to deter from the beauty of the day. The colors in the environment seem more saturated to celebrate the wedding, with beautiful white flowers decorating the gazebo, the chairs, the freestanding columns.

It’s gorgeous. Perfect.

Aubrey walks down the white silky runner toward the gazebo, her train trailing behind her. Her gown is off-white, off the shoulders, her hair swept up and smattered with pearls. She’s stunning, and I find tears stinging my eyes as I stand off to the side in front of my mic.

I keep my focus as best as I can and sing—to be able to sing the piece she walks in to is such an honor, and the impact of it hits me now. Everyone’s eyes are on her, and I don’t think it’s possible for her to look happier.

My uncle, her dad, is walking beside her holding her forearm. I can see his eyes tearing up. He pats her and lets her go, and she takes Smith’s hand and walks up the gazebo. He hasn’t stopped looking at her since she arrived.

The love between the two of them is so palpable it almost steals my breath. My voice fades as the song ends, and I draw in a few long breaths in an attempt to steady my emotions.

My eyes are drawn, unbidden, to Jax, who’s in the row of groomsmen. He’s staring at the couple with complex emotions flashing in his eyes—I can see happiness, but also something deeper, more vulnerable. My heart squeezes for him. It’s obvious he’s conflicted about his brother getting married.

His eyes meet mine, and the weight of his heavy stare hits me hard in the chest. Wow. I couldn’t speak right now if I had to. He looks away and clears his throat, then his usual affable demeanor is back in place, like that moment never happened. Jax lifts his chin and checks out a bridesmaid, and I see her chest rise in response.

I feel myself deflate. Boy, am I an idiot or what? After what happened today, I thought maybe I’d misjudged him. And seeing the depth in his eyes just now…it drew me in. More the fool am I.

I studiously avoid him the rest of the ceremony. Keep my attention on Smith and Aubrey. Watch them falling even more in love with every moment that passes.

They’re declared man and wife, and the kiss they share would sear the hair off a man’s chest, it’s so hot. We all applaud. My eyes sting with tears again and I let them flow freely. Hand in hand, they run down the aisle, her veil whipping behind her and a big smile on her face.

The bridal party moves off toward the lake to take pictures, and the rest of us go into the reception hall, where cocktails, beer, and wine are waiting for us at two bars. Music is already going; the lights are golden with candles in the center of every table. It’s lovely.

I grab a glass of wine, find my assigned seat with other distant members of my family, and slip in. I wish Della was with me right now. We’d talk about everyone’s dresses, about how good this wine was, how happy Aubrey looks. Odds are, Della would have words to say about Jax.

She’d keep me straight, help me remember how dangerous he is. I need her voice of reason right now, because I keep thinking about how I could smell his cologne in the car and I wanted to reach over and touch his hair. His lips.

I finish my glass of wine in record time and have another. What the hell—it’s a celebration, right? And I look pretty damn nice, if I can say so. I don’t dress up a lot, and it’s fun looking girly. The room fills quickly, and soon it’s buzzing with activity and laughs and people strolling around.

I find myself starting to move to the music, swaying in my chair. The wine is sinking in, loosening me up. A couple of family members stop by and tell me hi, giving me hugs and kisses and wishing me well for my upcoming graduation.

The wedding party finally comes in, and the crowd roars and applauds. The evening moves along with toasts, more toasts, people calling for the bride and groom to kiss, and alcohol flowing like water. We eat, they cut the cake, and Aubrey dares to cram a little in Smith’s mouth.

After wiping her mouth, he gives her a heated look and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes widen and she pulls back to look at him, then gives a small smile. I can only imagine what he told her.

The couple does their first dance, their bodies seamlessly attached, flowing to the slow song. Then the floor opens up and people rush out to jam.

“Hi,” a deep voice says from behind me. I spin around and look up to see a dark-haired guy staring down at me. He’s pretty cute, dressed in a good black suit with a dark red tie. “Is this seat taken?”

“She’s on the dance floor,” I say and wave at the chair. “You can take it if you need it, I imagine.”

He laughs and sits down. “No, I wanted to know if…you wanted some company.”

My face burns. “Oh. Duh, me.”

“I’m Rick,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand.

“Brooklyn,” I return. His grip is pleasant, though it doesn’t send any thrills through me. “So what do you do, Rick? Other than attending weddings, I mean.”

“I’m in finance,” he says. “I do taxes.”

We talk a bit. I tell him how I’m graduating with my bachelors in science and going on to get my masters. Turns out he went to my school, so we discuss various professors and courses.

“Do you want to dance?” Rick says. He gives me a warm smile. “We are at a wedding, after all, and I haven’t seen you leave this chair.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“You’re the prettiest woman here.” His smile grows bigger. He’s trying to be charming, and while it isn’t making my stomach flip or anything, he seems decent enough.

“Okay, let’s go dance.”

Rick takes my hand and leads me to the middle of the floor. It makes me think of my hand nestled in Jax’s earlier. Different experience altogether. Different reaction, too. But this is better. Safer. Nothing about Rick screams bad boy.

We move together, swaying to the “Faithfully” by Journey. His hands wrap around my hips and he tugs me closer.

“You smell nice,” he whispers in my ear. His breath is hot on my skin, and I smell faint tinges of liquor.

“Thanks.” I feel him growing aroused against my thigh. Okay, that kind of makes me uncomfortable. I pull back just a touch so we’re not that close.

“So what do you do when the tax rush is over?” I ask politely.

“Oh, it’s never over.” He looks down at me and I see a frown line between his brows. “Tax needs are year-round. My work is very consistent and stable.”

Wow, splendid. I can almost hear him saying he’s quite the catch. I stay silent for a moment. Maybe he’s just nervous or something. Trying to impress me, I guess. I can’t fault a guy for being a little awkward. I get awkward sometimes, too.

Then he’s tugged from me, his hands releasing my hips with a small jerk, and I see Jax right behind him, hand clamped on Rick’s shoulder. Rick gives me a startled look before he’s pushed away and Jax moves in front of me to take his place.

A hot flush of anger sweeps over me. I open my mouth to blast him about being so rude and presumptive when suddenly Jax’s lips are on mine, his hand cupping the back of my head, and I’m drowning in his kiss. Overwhelmed. Unable to think or articulate any words.

His tongue slips along mine, deepening the kiss, and he thrusts my body against him; I can feel his dick growing hard in response to the heat building between us. My pelvis instinctively grinds along its impressive length, and my hands thrust in his hair, touching the seductive strands. His jaw is smooth from a fresh shave.

Just as tantalizing as I thought he’d be.

I’m dizzy and breathless and tasting him, and then Jax groans into my mouth and kisses me harder, hotter, messier, more intensely.

Oh my God, this is a kiss unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. My belly is throbbing so hard, my channel clenching in raw need to be filled in the way I’ve never been. This man is owning me with just his lips, and it’s insane and powerful and commanding and I never want it to stop. It’s also sheer madness.

Somehow I manage to get control over myself and jerk away from him, my body instantly screaming in misery from the withdrawal. I swallow and say as steadily as I can, “What are you doing? What…what just…”

His grip tightens on the back of my neck and he leans toward me, his lips just a breath away. I can see the arousal in his eyes, how dark they are, how intently he’s staring at me. Like he wants to consume me bit by bit. And God it’s stupid, but I want it too, because I’ve never had a reaction to another human being like this before in my life. My nipples are hard and aching, my hands are shaking, and I’m insanely turned on.

My body is pulsing with need.

“I’m saving you,” Jax retorts in a low tone. “And if I’m not mistaken, you seemed to love it.”

Irritation wars with arousal. I thump one fist against his chest. “God, you’re so arrogant. I didn’t need saving.”

“That guy is a serious asshole,” he lobs back, capturing my hand in his big fist and then flatting my palm along his chest. His fingers stroke mine and his other hand slides down to caress my hip in a possessive grip. He begins swaying to the music, bringing me right along with him. “Trust me on this. And you’re welcome, by the way.” His cocky grin is over the top, like he’s actually proud of himself.

I can’t help it. I laugh. A shocked, stunned sound that erupts from my lips. This man is just too much. I don’t even know how to handle it. He’s everything that’s wrong for me, but every ounce of my entire being wants him to kiss me again.

The cockiness fades from his eyes and he laughs, too.

“You’re crazy,” I declare with a shake of my head. “Absolutely crazy. I can’t do this with you, though.”

“Do what, kiss me? Dance at a wedding?” His voice drops, and his fingers stroke the top curve of my ass, the thin string of my panties, through my fabric. “Get sexually aroused around a group of people?”

My whole body burns and pulses in response to his wicked words. I need to fight this. He’s dangerous. Heaven help me though, I want to taste him again right now. “Why are you doing this to me?” I manage to ask.

“Because I fucking want you so badly I can barely breathe,” he says so honestly that it locks the air in my lungs. This isn’t Jax the player. This is him, the real him, beneath the veneer—I don’t know how I know, but I do. I feel it in my bones. “And I got jealous seeing you dance with that polished turd. You deserve better than him.”

“And I suppose you’re the better option?”

“No, you deserve better than me, too.” And there’s the charmer again, dancing in his eyes, and my nipples tighten and pussy throbs.

I’m growing so wet. The swirls he’s making on my ass are getting lower and lower. He releases my hand on his chest and slides it up my side until the thumb brushes the underside of my aching breast. I shudder in response.

“You’re too good for me, but fuck if I don’t want to taste you anyway,” he continues. “I want to drop down right here and shove your dress up and lick that wet pussy. In front of everyone.”

His words are so naughty, so unreal. They make me shiver all over, and I feel myself get impossibly wet, my panties soaked through the crotch. It’s clear this man has done sexual things I’ve never even dreamed of.
Don’t go down this road,
my brain tries to scream, sounding suspiciously like my sister.

His hand moves down, and when his fingers dance along my bare thigh, playing with the hem of my skirt, I feel my body tighten with need. We’re in the middle of the dance floor, and this man is touching me like he possesses me, and I don’t know why but I’m dying for him to slip his hand beneath my panties and make me come right now. Despite people being around.

Maybe even because of it.

I’ve never had these urges before. It must be the alcohol talking, I sooth myself. The alcohol and the environment, which combined can make people do crazy things. It’s a one-time event.

Maybe I can let myself give in a little bit to whatever he’s offering, I rationalize. Have a taste of the wild side—nothing too far, of course. I’m not going to have sex with him, after all. I’ll still have my virginity intact, but I’ll be a fraction more knowledgeable about how things work in bed.

I ignore Della’s voice in my mind and shift up on my tiptoes, letting my mouth brush his. Nothing more than a soft sweeping of lips.

That simple gesture unleashes him. With a deep groan, Jax grabs my waist, the back of my neck, and yanks me flush to his body. “You’re mine tonight, darling,” he promises.

“I’m…not going to have…to have sex with you,” I pant to him, wishing that the words had come out stronger than my shaky stutter.

The smile on his face is almost devilish. “I don’t need to fuck you to own you. There’s a lot of pleasure I can show you. Give me more credit than that.”

He grabs my hand and leads me away from the dance floor. We’re moving around people, and my focus is solely on the broad expanse of his back in the white dress shirt. His hand clenching mine. His tight ass.

I can see why so many women want him. Jax is a force of nature. I want him to sweep me away.

We pass a table of several attractive guys who all look related, probably brothers, and Jax slows down as he eyes the group and they eye him back. There’s definite tension between them; the hostility is practically visible.

“Who are those guys?” I ask Jax. They aren’t from my side of the family, that’s for sure.

“Can’t believe Smith invited them here,” he mutters. “What the fuck was he thinking?”

I want to ask more, but he pulls me away and doubles his speed, shooting them one last glare over his shoulder. He takes me to the outer edges of the reception hall, where the lights are dimmer and very few people are around. The crowd’s attention is on the dance floor. Jax nudges me into a corner and turns to face me, blocking me from sight with his back.

“I need to touch that pussy right now,” he growls. “Tell me yes.” The irritation he displayed before is gone now, replaced by sheer lust written all over his face.

“This is…so wrong,” I manage to say. My whole body is vibrating all over, and I’m clenching uncontrollably. The thought of him fingering me…with people around…it’s insane, it’s wicked. What if we get caught? I’d never be able to see these people again.