CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

Jax's confident grip on Seven's hand made her insides melt. She never felt the need to be protected and doted on. But when he took her hand in his, walking her out of the bar and down the busy hotel corridor, the hairs on her arms jumped as if they wanted to reach for him. Her head swam, and she couldn't blame that on a little buzz from the drinks. All she'd had were a few sips of a soda.

Tonight would be a test. Mayhem wouldn't allow a random person in the meetup tonight. She was there, and Jax would be her guest, and he'd be allowed there only if it looked real, personal. And it could. After all, they'd spent the last few years flirting. Seven could live a lifetime in the space of one of their kisses. Even if they were playing a part, she and Jax acted real.

Because, for her, it felt real, as though it were more than a random hookup, more than a guy she shouldn't have slept with because his attitude always had acid. She'd seen the real him lately, certainly in her kitchen before he'd brought her breakfast in bed.

That was the scariest part. He didn't do what she expected him to—run away, be the asshole. Then again, he hadn't addressed whatever this was morphing into. They hadn't defined their situations, but this felt leap years beyond a hookup.

Seven should give Jax a thank you and a high five. With the right hum of a kiss or the breeze of his lips, she was sure she would climax, and that was new in her hierarchy of personal priorities. "Where are we going?"

His lust-darkened eyes dropped to her face. "I don't know."

Hawke might have a problem that she'd left her post, but he hadn't said she needed to stay put, just keep an ear to the ground and watch out for Johnny. He hadn't said for how long, either. "Sounds good to me."

Jax stopped abruptly. The hungry, powerful stride taking them to somewhere private paused, and she had no idea why.

"What's wrong?"

"Why didn't Johnny give you bigger shit for bringing me tonight?"

Jax was a smart cookie. She didn't have to bring him there, and the truth was, she didn't want to be away from him. There was no reason to bring him at all. But that wasn't what he wanted to know or likely would ever care about. "Some people don't trust you. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."

"Some people being Johnny."

She nodded.

"Lots of people have you keeping eyes on others."

"True."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because I'm trustworthy, and I do what I do well."

Jax inched closer as people stepped around them. They stood in the center of a hallway, semi-blocking traffic, but he didn't seem to notice how they impeded the flow. "And what is that? Look out for the best interest of Mayhem?" Jax asked slowly.

"Yes."

"If some don't think that I am, why would you tell me at all?"

"Because I know you, and no one knows how much I've shared with you."

His eyes tightened their focus. "What does this MC mean to you?" He looked away but came back, inquisitive, not as judgmental as she would've expected. "They're criminal. Guns. Drugs. Who the hell knows what else?"

Seven bit her lip, not knowing why she couldn't immediately bat away his question. "Because it's my family. Sometimes you hate the people you love, and you love the people you hate. You disagree with everything they are, and you do everything you can to change it. Mayhem's in my DNA as much as walking away from them was my destiny."

"Do you know how young you are to say things that are…" Jax shook his head and took her hand, starting them again.

"No, I don't."

He slowed but didn't stop.

"I've been on my own. Then I had to take care of others. My kids? They're not mine… even if they are mine. My dad left us to raise Mayhem, not children, and his first and only true love was the MC, not my mom." Seven stopped. "I don't know how old I am. Unless my best friend reminds me. Because age is just a number I left long ago."

He stopped again, and again, they blocked foot traffic in the busy hall. He didn't say anything, just stared. But not because she was crazy or talked as though she were boastful. She felt more as though he were proud or impressed, and it warmed her heart—and turned her on in a way she didn't expect.

"You have everything under control, don't you?" he finally asked.

Ha, he didn't have a clue. "I wish."

His face brightened. "I want to show you something."

They started walking again. "At least we have a plan."

"A dirty one." He squeezed her hand, and suddenly, they couldn't get there soon enough. "You still game?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." His arm brushed against hers, and every time it did, she thought about when he'd wrapped it around her, how it had felt when they were alone and lost their clothes. It was as if they suddenly breathed different air.

When Jax acted like this, asked questions, it erased the moments when she was certain that before was a one-time explosion of lust and cravings.

"I want to show you something, Seven. In here." Jax veered them off course as if he knew where they were, and they sidestepped the throngs of tourists shuffling the hall until he reached for the unmarked door. He punched a code on a nondescript pad and twisted the knob.

"Where are—"

Jax slapped her hand away as she reached for the light switch. The dim room was open, and on one side, a glass walk overlooked the main casino.

He put his hands on her hips and guided her. "Two-way mirror. They can't see us with the lights down."

Seven's mind rushed. How did he know this? But then, why question anything about Titan and access?

Jax pressed behind her, hands on her hip bones to hold her in place. The pressure of his thick erection, separated by the layers of clothes, made her dizzy with need. Her breath hitched knowing how easily he could inch the frilly skirt up then slide her underwear to the side.

Jax leaned close, letting his warm breath tease the back of her neck. "Seven?"

"Mmhh?"

His fingers gripped tighter, and she arched, melting at the whisk of his slow teases curling along her sensitive skin.

"Are you wet, princess?" Jax nuzzled behind her ear lobe.

"Yes." Her pussy contracted, desperately needing and silently rejoicing because he was so close.

His strong fingers rubbed from her hip bones to her clothing-covered mound and back. "Are you?"

When a man made from stone said sweet things… She nodded. "Very."

"Everyone out there wants what you'll have." Jax slid down the front of her skirt and played with the hem of her skirt.

"Jax." She swayed her backside against him.

His gravely chuckle rumbled against her ear. "Look at them. Wanting…"

She couldn't see their want. Hers had nearly blinded her. Seven nuzzled her cheek against his lips, finding little satisfaction from the lingering kisses that left her biting her lip.

"Keep watching them." He let go of her skirt, rubbing her legs—squeezing then feathering a slight touch—as he worked up, giving a chaotic tornado of sensations. Harsh. Sweet. Easy. Rough. Until his fingers found the edge of her panties. "They're searching." Jax yanked them down her thighs, making her gasp at the quick move and the cool air rushing against her damp skin. "Look at them all, wanting."

"I want. I don't care about them. You."

He stroked her folds, finally putting pressure on her clit piercings, and Seven bucked back against him, moaning for him to never stop. But he did, and the aftereffects of the bar were short-lived, but the piercing on her hood made her pulse. "I can't take this."

"Yes, you can." His fingers gentled back, methodically stroking until her hips swayed and lips begged, then he teased her clitoris again while kissing the small of her neck.

"Shh—God." She couldn't talk… or think.

Jax dragged his teeth against her skin until sensation overload made her incoherent—he pulled back. "Are you still watching?"

"No," Seven whined.

His fingers slid inside her. "For what you have."

Seven's muscles loosened. Hungry bliss bled into her veins. "Jax…"

He drove into her deep, faster. "God, I missed this tight cunt."

"Please, please, be inside me."

"Fucking hell," he muttered as the belt clinked and condom wrapper tore. "Wasn't my plan."

"Screw your plans."

A moment later, sheathed and urging her legs apart, Jax nuzzled the head of his cock against her as she watched the casino floor. He thrust and stole her mind. Again, spearing her with a blessed intrusion of thick heat, Jax's quick breath stayed at her ear as she cried for more, begging for deeper.

Seven couldn't swallow; her eyes couldn't stay open. "Come with me. I need you to."

A strong arm wrapped around her chest, and his low growl made her quiver. He worked like a machine and pistoned like a steamroller—so fluid, she could've floated, and so perfect, Jax made her climb higher and higher.

"Yes, Jax." The orgasm exploded, and Seven pushed back, needing desperately to hold on to something besides the wall. But she clung to it, riding the wave, the climatic high.

He pinned her to the mirror, straining his climax, muttering a thousand indistinguishable words that sent her mind flying as high as her orgasm until she melted into a limp Jax-held mess.

When her eyelashes fluttered open, she zeroed her focus on a woman on the floor who acted as though she'd won big. Nothing that woman had was as good as Jax.

"It's what they all want," Seven whispered. "And we have it."