I Want You Back (Want You #1)(104)

A kaleidoscope of colors exploded behind my lids as I started to come. My body kept the rhythm as my brain flitted away, letting me feel every hard throb, every suctioning pull of her muscles contracting around my shaft. Even as the orgasm ebbed, she clutched me tight, her soft words of love seared into my soul.

I collapsed on top of her with one last full-body shudder, burying my face in her neck.

Lucy let me stay that way for a little while as I tried to realign my worlds, but I wasn’t a small guy, and when she’d had enough, she lightly tapped my ass, indicating I needed to move.

Lifting my head, I gazed into her eyes, letting her see every bit of emotion I couldn’t put into words.

The emotions in her eyes mirrored mine.

Thank god.

Before I left the haven of her body, I took a little detour to her chest, kissing and licking and teasing until she squirmed and arched beneath me.

“Jax, I—”

“I know whatcha need, baby.” I eased out of her and said, “Hang on.” Then I plucked her up and carried her into our bedroom, where I made good on my promise that the second time would be slower and sweeter.



* * *



? ? ?

Yawning, after we thoroughly exhausted each other, I stretched out and pressed the side of my face into the pillow. I was too damn comfortable to even reach down and pull the covers over my naked body.

I’d half drifted off when the mattress dipped.

Lucy curled up next to me, resting her cheek on my shoulder blade and throwing her leg over the back of mine, pulling the covers over both of us, just like she used to do.

Her contented sigh echoed mine.

I just wanted to bask in the aftermath of two mind-scrambling orgasms, and by bask I meant . . . fall into a coma and sleep.

I’d reached that almost dreaming state when her soft voice tickled my ear.

“I’m so glad you told me everything, Jax, and there are no more secrets between us.”

“Mmm.” My brain sort of went back online, and I mumbled, “That’s not true. I have another secret.”

“You do?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What is it?”

“I bought the ice rink.”





Twenty-one





LUCY




You what?”

Jax had to be kidding.

I heard him snore. What the hell? He couldn’t just drop this into pillow talk and then nod off.

Maybe he was half dreaming when he said that.

I sat up, yanked the bedding away—momentarily distracted by his amazing ass—and poked him in the ribs. Twice.

“Luce, I’m tired.”

“So am I. But I will keep poking you. Tell me you’re joking.”

He turned his head and looked at me sleepily. “No joke. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Nope. Now.”

A weary sigh escaped him and he rolled to his back.

“How did you end up buying Lakeside?”

Jax groaned and said, “Because that Agnes is a pushy old broad who’s been wheeling and dealing her whole life and she suckered me in,” with what sounded like affection. “We had an appointment with her at her mansion in St. Paul.”

We . . . meaning him and Gabi.

“We get there and Agnes has this elaborate high tea planned, served in her fancy-ass dining room, on china that belonged to Napoleon or something.”

I snickered.

“What?”

“I’m trying to imagine two ham-handed hockey players lifting their pinkies as they sipped from centuries-old teacups and noshed on miniature French pastries.”

Jax flashed me his sweet grin. “You have no idea. Anyway, by the last dessert course I’m antsy because Agnes has grilled us on everything from our upbringings to our hockey careers to our favorite movies. While I’m not drinking, Agnes keeps pouring champagne for Gabi, which loosens her tongue, and that wasn’t helping us move things along. Finally some butler dude reminds Agnes she has another appointment so she gets down to ‘brass tacks’—her word choice, not mine. Immediately she turns into this shrewd businesswoman who apparently knew my grandfather, the other Jackson Lund. He screwed her and her husband out of two big business deals sixty years ago, buying up smaller companies they’d intended to invest in. I’m thinking to myself . . . I’m screwed. Then she informs me that ‘Jackson, the unpleasant toad’ had actually done them a favor, forcing them to reevaluate their business goals, and they ended up multimillionaires.”

“Wow. That’s weird. Then again, the Lunds have been movers and shakers in the Cities for what . . . a hundred and fifty years?”

“It gets even more bizarre. Agnes believed it was karma that I—Jackson’s namesake—came to her for a favor. To ‘settle the score’ she offered to sell me Lakeside, allowing me to take whatever action I want with the building and the staff. Her price was fair, Luce. Strictly from a financial perspective, I would’ve been an idiot to turn it down. Then that crafty old fox said she’d only sell me the ice rink if I also bought a run-down bowling alley in Rosewood that she’s been trying to get rid of for over a year.

I blinked at him. “You own the ice rink and a bowling alley?”

“The papers I signed would attest to that,” he said dryly.