Jax (Titan #9)(44)

"Not long ago." He worked his jaw. "You got a problem?"

Johnny's head shook slowly. "Not if you don't."

"Good. I'd hate for more problems to pop up between us."

Johnny put an arm around Seven. "I did realize we had any issues."

Right, because the clusterfuck in South America wasn't soundly put on Johnny's shoulders. But Jax tried to stay chill. Mayhem was a client, just like the DOJ or the CIA. Hell, they were all in bed together, knowing the little he knew about gangs and the far too much he knew about Uncle Sam.

"Excuse me. I'm not your armrest." Seven ducked from under Johnny's shoulder and leaned on the bar.

On top of Johnny screwing up what should've been an easy job, Jax didn't like the dynamic between him and Seven. Familiarity or not, that move right there was like Johnny pissing on a spot he wanted to claim. Seven seemed to be cognizant, and Jax didn't want some alpha-dog brawl over a bone, but fucking hell. "Bogotá didn't go as planned. If this went smoothly, I'd be cool with that."

"If this weekend goes smoothly, it's not because you're here." Johnny smirked, and Jax wanted to punch his face in.

He did one better. He put his arm around Seven. If she dared shove him away, they would get into a fight, and that would make for great sex, preferably against a wall. If she didn't, then sides were drawn, and Johnny had just gotten a big fuck you.

Jax's heart punched in his chest, waiting one second, then two. What would she do?

Seven leaned into his side. "You two are giving me a migraine."

Good girl. God damn, good girl. He would make sure there would be many, many good things coming her way for that, even if she had no idea the line he'd just walked and the risk he'd just taken by throwing his arm over her.

The corner of Johnny's eyes pinched, but he didn't respond to her. "I don't know why Titan brought you, anyway."

"Because we needed someone neutral," Seven chided him.

"We?" He shook his head. "All this we shit, and it's like—"

"Don't get into it with me here, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart," Johnny tossed back.

Jax noticed the softness leave Seven, but she flipped around and pressed against the bar, leaving him with Johnny.

"Two cokes, please," Seven ordered and was served quickly.

Johnny took an aggressive step forward. His brows furrowed, and the lines under his eyes deepened. "Careful with her."

"Jesus Christ, man. You're the one being a dick."

She turned with the drinks and handed one to Jax.

He took the glass. "Thanks."

Johnny nudged his head. "This guy's an asshole."

Seven sighed. "Is this where I bring out the takes-one-to-know-one argument that we used in sixth grade?" Then her pierced brow arched. "Because I'm ready."

Jax took a sip of his drink and stretched over her head, placing it on the bar.

She curled next to his side, toying with the tip of her straw. "Could you put mine down too?"

He did, and she stepped back to his side, casually resting a hand on his stomach.

The move was casual but intimate. It was a loud message to Johnny, and Jax gave no fucks.

Heat from her palm radiated. The innocent touch bled into his bloodstream. It flooded his mind, heightening his longing to strip her naked and run his hands over her. Not just because she was the sexiest thing he'd touched and tasted in as long as he could remember, but because she was well schooled in the art of shade. That made her fun, smart, and entertaining.

He could go on but wanted to pay attention as her fingers splayed. She dragged the tips of her nails down an inch before letting her hand fall.

Jax swallowed hard. The not-so-innocent clawing had woken up each nerve ending along his abdomen. The undercover move reminded him of the way her fingers threaded into his hair, the way her moans fell without abandon with each thrust into her body.

Whatever Seven and Johnny were bantering back and forth about had nothing to do with him.

"Jax is hanging with me tonight. Deal with it."

Or maybe it did. Jax inhaled, deeply, corralling his thoughts. He didn't need to sport wood in a crowded bar. "What's up?"

Johnny's angry eyes weren't impressed, and Jax ran a possessive hand over Seven's skin.

"I'm down with whatever," he added, realizing that he'd been lost in thoughts of her naked instead of angling for the meet tonight, which was his goal. Mission accomplished.

She peered up at him, lust-darkened eyes wide and wanting the same thing he did—to be alone.

But it didn't feel right pursuing her when there was an ulterior motive. Not that he'd done a damn thing wrong, and his intentions were never going to get him a sainthood.

"I'm out of here." Johnny turned around. "Off to find someone actually drinking at a bar."

"Have fun," Seven called while rolling her eyes.

"What's that between you two?" Jax asked.

Seven reached for her soda. "Where should I begin?"

It was better not to know. "Never mind. You don't have to explain."

Her lips wrapped around the straw, but she didn't drink. He couldn't read her expression, but maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. Hell, he didn't know. "I'll be your piece of meat to ward off unwanted attention."