Fighter(17)

I groaned. “Why am I starting to enjoy being called that again?” I needed to ignore how his thumb brushed over my cheek. I swallowed a knot and felt the ache forming in the pit of my stomach again.

Nope. It was lower.

Heat surged to my cheeks, but I couldn’t turn away. Jax held me hostage with the palm of his hand. His thumb branded me as he continued to rub it back and forth, caressing my cheek.

My god. I still loved him.

That realization exploded inside of me, sending debris everywhere. It was like an earthquake that kept shaking at my core. I started to tremble, and when he saw how his touch had affected me, his eyes darkened. They went to my lips, and his hand curved tighter around me, pulling me toward him. He moved closer, and then I felt his breath on me, just beyond touch but so damn close.

This.

This was what my body had been waiting for since I saw him poised to jump out of that window. Too damn long. Then my brain switched off. A primal need had built up within me, and it was taking over.

“Dale,” he whispered before his lips touched mine.

Holy f*ck. He was a drip of water in a desert.

I needed him. I wanted him. I didn’t care what happened after this, and with that thought—my last rational one of the evening—I whispered back, “Merry f*cking Christmas to me.”

He chuckled. Then his lips applied pressure, and I was gone.

When I woke up, my legs wouldn’t move. My arms wouldn’t move, and yep, I checked—my neck felt like it was sandwiched between two boulders, and neither was moving. It was embarrassing that a night of sex could do this to me. I needed to go back to the gym.

A towel landed next to me in bed, and I heard Jax somewhere behind me. “That’s your last clean one. If we’re staying here tonight, we need to pick up some more from the store.”

He sounded cheery.

I wanted to murder him. Instead I yelled, “What did you do to me? I can’t even move.”

The bed dipped with his weight, and he touched my hip. “Yep. Still smooth as silk. What are you talking about?”

“What?” I growled. I wanted to flip over so I could see him, or at least stop him from copping any more feels.

His hand left and returned with a smack. On my ass. “Good bounce there. Still not sure what you’re talking about.”

Oh god. He was going to continue to grope me until I forced myself to sit up. This was going to hurt. I pushed myself up and around to face him. That went easier than I thought it would. Wait, nope. A guttural scream formed as the pain hit me in the next second.

“Oh my god!”

Jax was unfazed. He smirked at me, wearing only his lightweight sweatpants. They rode low on his hips and as he kept grinning, I wanted to curse at him and jump him all over again. Images from the night came to me, helping to ease some of the pain.

Jax had been above me. He’d pinned me down on the bed as he moved inside me. He’d gone slow, purposefully drawing everything out, and watching me the entire time. Oh yeah. That memory helped take away a lot of the pain.

Suddenly I was drenched in heat again. Pulling at my shirt, I fanned it around me and looked over the room. Staring at him would only persuade me to pull him back down on top. Not good. I couldn’t walk after one night. I wouldn’t be able to sit if we went another round.

“You’re out of shape.”

My eyes snapped to his. “Excuse me?”

He laughed, standing from the bed. Raising his arms above his head, he flexed, and as he did, his sweats dropped another inch. I could see the tops of his hips as they molded around his obliques, and if the pants slid another inch down, I’d see him him. Even now, as I stared, a bulge began to grow there.

Jax laughed some more, drawing my gaze back to his. “Keep watching, Doily, and I’ll be stripping you naked all over again.”

Yes. He had done that too. I tried to snort back. “Whatever. You can think all you want, but…” I stopped talking. He was at full mast now.

His arms dropped, and he came to the bed. Bending down, he rested his arms on both sides of me and leaned over, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes went to my lips.

I couldn’t breathe when he was this close. The heat must’ve been on. Wait, our cabin doesn’t have heat… “Jax?” What was he going to do? I wanted him to kiss me. His lips were so close.

He leaned back just a few centimeters and trailed his gaze up and down my body. Then he sighed softly. “I want to bend you over, run my hands down your backside, and slide right in,” he breathed. “I want to ride you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week, Dale.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the side of his cheek against mine.

I gasped at the intimacy, the feel of him there.

He moved again—another sensual graze—and his lips found mine. He kissed me and whispered against my lips, “I want to do so much more than that, and I’m having a hard time convincing myself to walk away and let you be. But if I don’t, we’ll never leave this cabin. I won’t let you go.”

Please don’t.

His voice was intoxicating. “But I can’t do that. I can’t miss the fight tonight. You know why?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even try. I just stayed there, feeling his lips on mine. I never wanted to move.

He murmured, “It’s because I’m doing the right thing—for my sister and for you, too. I want to do the right thing now, Doily, for you. And I want to continue to do the right thing, for you.”