The Last Second Chance: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 3) (14 page)

Joey started to roll her eyes.

“Don’t.” Jax shook his head. “I’m serious, Jojo. If you don’t want to give things a go, then you’ve got to cut me loose. Either way, tonight we stop playing games.”

She watched him, calculating, and he wished he could read her thoughts. He reached for the wine and towels.

“Thanks for the help tonight,” he told her. “You saved all our asses. Your shift’s over. Leave your door unlocked if you want company tonight. If not, I’ll see you around.”

He opened the closet door and stepped out.

“I’m keeping the tips,” she called after him.

Jax felt the corners of his mouth lift.

L
eave your door unlocked
.

Her damn door was always unlocked and now she was going to have to purposely lock it to keep him out. Joey fumed as she took the shortcut through the pasture. The moon in the crisp night sky guided her home with nearly three hundred dollars in tips tucked in her pocket.

She let herself in the backdoor to the happy yips from Waffles as he wove in and out of her legs.

Joey crouched down to give his wiry fur a good ruffle. Just a few days with a dog and it seemed like she’d had him her entire life. She knew she’d never get tired of the celebration every time she came home.

“Buddy, it wasn’t even three hours,” she laughed as he danced onto his hind legs to lick her face. “Okay, how about you keep your feet on the floor and I’ll get you a t-r-e-a-t?”

Waffles trotted after her into the kitchen and happily accepted the breath-freshening cookie Joey retrieved from the jar on the counter. She wrinkled her nose. The treats tasted like mint-flavored tuna. She knew because she’d sampled one. And one had been enough. She’d ordered a large pack of homemade pet treats from Vern and Sylvia, farmer’s market regulars who had a pet stand. Organic chicken treats would undoubtedly taste better than mint tuna.

As Waffles snarfed down his treat, Joey stared pensively at the front door. She was going to lock it. She knew better than to give into temptation when it came to Jackson Pierce.

Obviously there were still sparks between them. There probably always would be. She had to admit, the flirting, the teasing, it had been fun once she realized that she had the power. She wasn’t that skinny, pie-eyed kid anymore.

He’d hurt her once. Left her feeling weak, vulnerable. But things were different. She was different. She was the kind of strong that came from learning not to depend on anyone else. Never tying her dreams and goals to someone. Hell yes, she was strong. But was she strong enough to pursue a fling with Jax? Strong enough to enjoy that heady, physical rush without going under, without losing herself?

Joey strode over to the front door. The thick mahogany kept the cold out and would just as easily keep out the man who’d once been so careless with her heart. Just one twist of the lock and things would be settled between them forever.

He’d made sure she knew it was her call. She was in control.

She stared at the deadbolt and then through the glass sidelight into the night.

Her call.

H
ours later
, Jax pulled up to Joey’s house, his fingers pausing on the ignition, debating. There were a handful of lights on in the first floor windows. Was that a good sign or did she just want to be awake to witness his devastation?

What was he going to do if he climbed those steps and found the door locked? God, to spend the rest of his life seeing the girl of his dreams every day. Watching her fall in love with some other guy who hadn’t broken her heart like an asshole. They’d probably have six kids, just to rub it in. He’d take up drinking and be Drunk Uncle Jax.

If that door was locked, everything—all of it since he’d left home—would be for nothing. God, he was afraid of the no.

Why did he have to push her? Why couldn’t he have given her just a little more time? He berated himself as he trudged up the porch steps like a prisoner facing his execution.

Jax closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath.

It couldn’t be locked. He’d known that Joey Greer was his future since he was fourteen years old, probably longer. “Now or never,” he muttered.

It turned easily in his grip and he spent a few more seconds contemplating whether or not she’d just locked the deadbolt to give him a false sense of hope before crushing him like a cockroach.

Fuck it
, he decided. He pushed and stared dumbly down at Waffles who was now pawing at his legs.

“She left it open?”

Waffles wriggled in happiness as if he understood the significance of the unlocked door.

“Hey, buddy,” Jax said, scruffing up the dog’s fur. “Where’s your mom?” She wasn’t downstairs, he noted, though there was a fire in the hearth. Maybe she left the door open to an empty house as a slap in the face. He hadn’t considered that possibility.

The dog’s tail thumped against the floor and he looked up adoringly at Jax with one blue eye and one brown.

“You like it here, bud? You like your mom?”

Waffles’ tail swished against the hardwood.

“Yeah, I do, too. Let’s see if she’s around.” Jax took a cursory glance up the stairs, but the second floor was dark. However, the outside lights were on in the back. With the dog trailing him, Jax made his way through the living room to the French doors off the kitchen.

He could hear music faintly through the glass.

What the hell was she doing outside at night in the dead of winter? Was this some kind of trap?

He opened the door and, signaling Waffles to stay put, stepped outside. And into a fantasy.

His breath frozen in his throat. The music, low and bluesy, pulsed through outdoor speakers. Joey, her hair piled on top of her head, reclined in a cloud of steam that hovered above the claw foot tub she soaked in. She was bathed in a soft golden glow from the outdoor lights.

Under her spell, Jax moved in closer.

Joey turned her head against the lip of the tub. “Hi,” she said.

“The door was open.” Jax said stupidly.

Smooth move, idiot,
he chastised himself.

“Was it now?” she asked with a ghost of a smile on her full, naked lips.

“Did you forget to lock it?” Still not believing it was true, Jax held his breath. All his mental preparations had dealt with a locked door.

She turned toward him, arms draped over the edge of the tub.

“There’s one thing I need you to be clear on,” she said, ignoring his question.

“What’s that?” Jax asked.

“I’m not looking for a relationship and I’m not interested in picking up where we left off.”

“What do you want?” His voice sounded like sandpaper.

She answered him without words. Bracing her hands on the tub, she rose. Water streamed off of her naked body and steam rose from her skin.

She’d been a fantasy in high school, all long limbs and soft, subtle curves. But now? Now, she was a goddess.

She was spectacular. Lithe muscle, smooth curves, her skin glowed in the moonlight. Every inch of her was perfection. Jax went instantly hard.

Aching with the need to touch her, he moved forward until he stood before her.

“Joey.”

“Hand me the towel, will you?” She said it lightly, still keeping that almost imperceptible distance between them.

His hand shook as he held out the white terrycloth, breath caught when their fingers brushed. It was then that he knew he wouldn’t survive this. Her fire would incinerate him and he didn’t care. Jax was willing to sacrifice himself. Every time he kissed her, he lost a piece of his soul. What did the rest of those pieces amount to?

She wrapped the towel around her and he saw the first apprehension in those warm brown eyes. But it was gone just as quickly as it had come. And then she put her hands on his shoulders.

He watched himself, as if from a great distance, lift her out of the tub.

She shivered against him from the cold, from the heat. And then her mouth was on his. And there was no more winter night, only that scorching flame.

Jax slid his hands under the towel, palms skimming her perfect ass. He gripped and lifted, pulling her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, hands dove into his hair. Their mouths fused in fire.

Blindly, he carried her to the door reveling in the feel of her wrapped around him. Her lips crushed hungrily against his. He dove into the kiss, the fire. And when she opened for him, when her tongue stroked his, he felt another piece of his soul loosen and break free.

She could have it. She could have it all. Every broken piece of him. And once she had them all, she could put him back together or scatter them to the wind. It didn’t matter. All that did matter was that he gave her everything.

She groaned against him. “Door, Jax,” she murmured.

“Sorry,” he whispered, peeling her off the frosty glass and shoving the door open. Something crashed to the floor, pieces splintering.

Waffles danced out of their path as they reeled past. Jax paused by the table, debating bedroom or fire. Proximity won.

He carried her over to the stone hearth, his shin smarting as it smacked into the coffee table. He kicked the table out of the way and something else fell to the floor.

In the fire’s warm glow, Joey unwound her legs from his waist, and he reluctantly let her slide down. When she took a step back, Jax snagged her wrist. He couldn’t stand to not touch her.

“Stay, please.” If she went too far, the spell would be broken.

Watching him, she gave the towel she wore one swift tug, sending it to the floor. She stood before him, naked and proud.

Jax dropped to his knees and rested his forehead against her taut stomach. She was a queen, a witch, and he was her devoted servant. He breathed her in. Joey wasted no time with perfumes or scented lotions. Her own scent was spellbinding, all smoke and fire and earth. There was no one like her in the world.

She nudged his chin up so he would look at her. “Something’s not right with this picture,” she said softly.

Jax looked down. Joey was luminescent in the firelight as it played over bare curves and valleys. Yet he was fully dressed and still wearing a winter coat.

He shrugged out of the coat, yanked his shirt over his head and leaned in to trail kisses over her abdomen, climbing the curve of her hip. He dragged his teeth over her flesh, cautioning himself to be careful even as the wild within him demanded to be loosed.

Joey shivered and he ran his tongue over the crop of goose bumps that appeared on her skin.

“God, I love every inch of you,” he murmured, lips skimming over the inside of her hip bone and lower to the v of her thighs. Her legs quivered and Jax smiled against the smooth skin. He was getting to her. There were cracks appearing in her cool defense.

Jax trailed his fingers down the backs of her thighs and heard her sigh. He wanted to make her do that again and again. His hands continued their quest, skirting her hips to stroke her thighs, his thumbs moved to rest just below her very center.

Neither of them breathed, but even without oxygen, his heart knocked against his chest in an incessant pounding. A razor sharp anticipation.

He stroked the pad of one thumb over her slit, a feather-light touch. Her breath was a gasp and Joey’s fingers curled into his shoulders.

“Wait,” she whispered.

Reacting to the tremble in her voice, Jax froze. He dropped his hands. “We can stop. It’s okay.” He would probably literally die if they did, was fairly certain his heart would just stop if she asked him to stop now.

“No,” she said, with a breathless laugh. “I mean you need to catch up.” She knelt down and set her hands to work on his belt. The moment her fingers skimmed his bare stomach, Jax felt his cock strain against the confines of his jeans. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing to him. Killing him slowly with excruciating anticipation.

Needing to touch her, Jax put his hands on her slim hips and rested his forehead on hers. Joey stared into him and as one hand worked his zipper down, her other moved to cup his hard-on through the jeans.

His eyes slammed closed, hips flexed into her hand. God, he was going to lose it and he still had his damn pants on. She’d given him a chance and he was seconds away from humiliating himself. No other woman had ever made him feel so … powerless … so hungry.

“Jojo, you’re killing me here,” he whispered it over her lips until she kissed him. But it didn’t stop her busy hands. She shoved his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His dick sprang free, arcing heavily toward her.

Her breath was coming in pants now, which did nothing to alleviate the tightness in his balls.

“Wait.” it was his turn to beg for a moment. “If you touch me now, it’s not going to be sweet and slow. It’s going to be fast and mean.”

“I’m not a sweet and slow kinda girl, Jax,” she whispered, her tongue darting out to trace his lower lip. She reached for him and he stopped her.

“I need you to be sure,” he said, squeezing her wrist a little too hard. “Be sure about all of this.”

“Haven’t I made myself clear?” Joey gripped his aching shaft in one hand and cupped his balls with the other. “I guess I need to learn to communicate better.”

“Fuck.”

Jax took her to the ground with no finesse and more than a little violence. He covered her with his body, reveling in the feel of her under him. His cock was nestled between her legs, her breasts crushed against his chest.

He held her chin in place and ravaged her mouth as he felt the wet heat from her core tease the head of his cock.

He broke free from her lips and sent his mouth cruising lower where his hot breath taunted a hard nipple until it budded. He leaned in and took the sensitive peak into his mouth.

Joey groaned and arched against him. He lathed the nub with his tongue before starting to suck. She gasped, but he wanted more. He wanted her begging.

He brought a hand to the juncture of her thighs and as his tongue flicked at her breast, he slid a finger into her heat. It was more than a gasp. It was something close to a scream.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Waffles curl up in the corner of the room facing away from them.
Nice, a dog with privacy settings.

He returned his attention to Joey’s other breast, giving it the same treatment. A rough lap of the tongue before closing over it to suckle deeply.

“Jax,” she gasped his name, as he entered her with another finger.

The taste of her alone was enough to drive a man mad, but his name on her lips was hypnotic.

“I can’t come yet!” She wriggled backward out of his arms.

“Yes, you can, baby,” he said with a wicked smile. She scooted back on the rug, but his fingers closed over her ankle, pulling her back. He leaned down between her open thighs and placed a hard kiss between her legs. Her thighs tried to close on him, but he was faster. And so was his mouth. His tongue blazed a trail to the swollen nub and back to her wet center. He felt her arching into him, desperate to be closer.