WATCHING Jax was like seeing the devil incarnate. The way he moved was both like he could kick someone’s ass or take someone on the table. He was sucking down water in between shifts, and I couldn’t help but watch the way he moved on the ice. He was made for this.
Jax gave me the attention that every other girl begged for. Even when he wasn’t looking at me, his body drifted toward mine. We were being tugged toward each other, and I couldn’t slow it down. Truth was, I didn’t want to.
When Mia and I got to Offside, the DJ was already set up.
“You look pretty starstruck.” Mia’s smile took up her entire face.
“Don’t even start.”
“I’m just saying there’s something between you two. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and he was playing a freaking hockey game.”
“I’m not talking about this,” I deadpanned.
Mia linked her arm with mine, effectively letting me off the hook. “Drinks?”
“Drinks!” I was going to need something to take the edge off after watching Jax play.
A round of shots later, Mia led me out to the dance floor.
My eyes closed, and I let the house music move through my body. I loved dancing, the way it took over every thought and allowed me to let go.
Thick arms wrapped around me from behind, and I leaned back, expecting to smell Jax’s now familiar scent. Instead, I was met with the reek of stale beer.
“Let go of me, asshole.” I pushed against his arms, anger building in my chest.
“Hey, don’t be a bitch. We’re just dancing. Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to.” His voice was slurred, and his arms tightened, pushing the air out of my lungs. Fear settled in as I struggled to get him to let me go, and I fought in earnest to get him off me.
“Let her fucking go.” Jax was in front of me, ripping the drunk guy away. He lifted him by his collar, his rage pouring off him.
“Man, she was dancing up on me. It’s not my fault your girl is a slut.”
“Wrong fucking answer.” Jax’s fist collided with the guy’s nose and crunched as it broke with the impact. Blood dripped down into his teeth before he covered his face with his hand. “What the fuck? You broke my fucking nose.”
Jax gripped his collar tighter, yanking him close, and I could barely make out his voice. “Don’t touch her again. Do you fucking understand me?” His voice was low and cold. It left no doubt that he meant exactly what he was saying. It should scare the crap out of me, but my nipples were already getting hard.
A part of me desperately wanted to see how far he’d take this, but people were staring. If Jax went any further, he’d put his NHL career at risk. I ran my hand up his back. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Jax gave him one last shake before shoving the guy away. “Fuck off. Before I change my mind.”
I barely registered the guy taking off, all my focus pinned on Jax as he stepped closer, thumb running over my cheek. “You okay?”
I placed my hand on his chest, needing to feel him. “Yeah, it was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing.” His low growl vibrated my palm. “He fucking touched you without your permission.”
I shrugged. “Nothing every girl isn’t used to.”
His body tensed, and his eyes darkened. “Never again, Sid.”
I bit my bottom lip, and a thrill went through me as he tracked the motion. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” He palmed my waist, tugging me closer until his inhales brushed against my neck. “I should’ve been here sooner.”
Rationally, I knew there was no way for him to know some dick would rub against me. That didn’t stop my core from tightening as his possessiveness washed over me. Everything about him called to me, the overwhelming sense of falling becoming more familiar.
“Dance with me.” Jax’s deep voice was rough in my ear. He was so close his lips brushed my skin. Goose bumps spread across my arms as the warmth of him coated me. The alcohol and heat of the dance floor had me in a dreamlike state.
His arm lowered to cover my hips and guided me against him. His chest heaved against mine, and I could feel his heart pounding out a rhythm that matched my own. A gentle graze of his lips on the shell of my ear sent shivers down my spine. Heavy, broken breaths skated against the delicate skin, and all of my nerve endings came to life. I dug my nails into his shoulders, holding him, not wanting this to end. He nipped my earlobe, and the slight pain was mixed with pleasure. I moaned, and he did it again.
Needing to touch him, I lifted my arms, wrapping my hands behind his neck, and buried my fingers in his hair.
“You’re fucking perfect.” He groaned and yanked my hips harder to him. His other hand trembled as it rose, grazing my skin. It was a slow, torturous ascent that left me desperate. It traveled up my stomach underneath my loose shirt, stopping just below my breast, waiting for my permission. I held my breath, paralyzed with the need to feel him, and he lifted his hand, barely brushing the soft underside exposed to him with no bra as a barrier. He groaned, and my lips tipped in a wicked smile.
“Fuck, you’re hot. You’re made for me, baby.” He pressed his mouth to my neck in open-mouth kisses, sucking hard enough to leave marks in their wake. Each touch was a direct line to between my thighs.
He let me go, grasping my hand before I could protest, and dragged me into a dark alcove created by a triple-stacked row of speakers that only had room for the two of us behind it. He went in first, guiding me backward until my ass was against his cock. I made needy sounds, and he wrapped his hand around my throat, squeezing gently.
“Quiet. You don’t want anyone to hear you.”
His words set me on fire. The chance of anyone seeing us was slim to none, but it didn’t stop the thrill of what we were doing. He slid his rough hand down my stomach. His fingers stopped just below my waistband, where he drew small circles with his thumb.
“Please.” I tried to swallow it down, but it came out in a plea.
He popped the button on my jeans, and I moaned when he cupped me over my panties. The sound encouraged him, and he moved the fabric to the side, gliding his fingers through my folds. He growled in my ear, “You’re so fucking wet. Is all this for me?”
I moved my hips, chasing his fingers. “Yes. Only you.”
His teeth grazed my shoulder, and he sank two fingers into me without warning.
“Fuck.” I screamed the word with the intensity of his touch.
He nipped my ear. “You like the idea of being caught, don’t you?”
Lust pulsed to my core, soaking his hand. “Yes.”
His laugh rumbled against my back. “I want to get caught. I want them to see you fucking yourself on my fingers so everyone knows you’re mine.”
That should be the last thing I wanted, but right now, I didn’t care. “Please.”
“You’re going to come when I tell you to,” he demanded. His hand tightened on my neck, and I struggled to take a breath.
Shit. My arousal pooled between my legs, and I soaked his hand.
“That’s my girl.” He bit my shoulder and swirled his fingers around my clit before thrusting into me, repeating the motion in a steady rhythm, building tension until I was hovering on the edge of an orgasm.
“That’s it. Take what you need. Fuck my fingers.”
I moved with his encouragement and dropped my head back onto his shoulder, my fingers clenching into his thighs. Emotions filled me, stretching my skin until I could explode from within. I wanted all of this, but I wanted more. I wanted everything he could give me.
“Now, Sidney. Come for me.” His low command had me coming apart as the tension broke over me in waves, as my orgasm threatened to pull me under. My knees went weak, and he held me up with an arm banded around my middle.
“Fuck, Sid, the things you do to me.”
Hearing him say my name was like having an ice-cold bucket of water dumped on my head, snapping my dreamlike state. The reality of my feelings separated me from him. I didn’t just want him to make me come. I wanted things I couldn’t have.
I couldn’t separate my feelings from what was happening, and he was leaving. Not to mention he was in some kind of weird PR relationship with a tennis star. I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were dark with lust, and I had to force myself to shift away. I didn’t get far—instead of letting me go, his arms tightened around my back, and he took deep jagged breaths, dropping his forehead to mine, trying to regain control. His hands cupped my jaw, fingers trembling against me. “Stay.”
“I can’t, Jax…” My voice broke around his name. “I can’t.”
Jaw clenching, he nodded, loosening his grip, and I slipped out, leaving him there, even though my entire being wanted to go back. I glanced at him through the crowded dance floor. He looked at the ceiling, his muscles clenched like he was holding himself back from following me.
What the hell had we done?
