image
image
image

Chapter Twenty-Three

image

Jaxson

It had been a hell of a day. From waking up after a beating to meeting the legendary Kyle McCullough to finding out he had a freaking twin sister, it had been one surprise after another.

And yet none of those things were at the forefront of his thoughts. Penny Hoffmeier was. Specifically, the raw disappointment he’d seen in her eyes when he told her that Zeb was going to be the one driving him down to Birch Falls.

That look hurt more than the kicks to his ribs he’d taken the night before. At least he’d managed to get a few shots in, too. Somebody was walking around with some bruises and maybe some fractures of their own. Fucking cowards, jumping him from behind like that.

When he thought about what might have happened if he’d brought Penny back to his room like he’d wanted to ...

No, he was doing the right thing by refusing to cave. Last night had proven that.

But keeping Penny at a safe distance was becoming increasingly difficult. The more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. The more he learned, the more he wanted to know.

She wasn’t the flighty, bubbly woman he’d first thought. He’d been watching her throughout afternoon and discovered something he hadn’t expected—at least some of that perpetual sunshine was an illusion. For as friendly and outgoing as Penny was, she also tended to stay just outside the circle, on the edge, looking in. She did things for others but wasn’t comfortable with accepting help for herself.

There had been a few unguarded moments when he saw the subtle longing in her eyes. Like when Doc slipped an arm around his wife’s waist or Cage snuck a kiss from Bree. Even not-so-obvious things, like when Steve slid a slice of watermelon from his plate to Sam’s and Sam looked at him as if he’d given her the moon.

Then, there was the easy camaraderie they shared. Teasing each other while having each other’s backs. Like a family—one created by choice, not biology. It was so real, so genuine.

He couldn’t blame Penny for wanting something like that. To feel included among those who shared common bonds was nice. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed in the Army as long as he had—that sense of team and community.

Now, it looked as if he might have the chance to have that again in a way. If Sam was the sister he’d never known he had—and everything in him told him she was—he’d probably be accepted among the Sanctuary crowd as is and without question.

But Penny ... it was different for her. Even though he’d overheard the women suggest more than once that she join them for their Sunday coffees or whatever, it wouldn’t be the same. She’d still be on the outside looking in, because she would see herself as the odd one out.

This, he knew. However, if things worked out and if he and Penny actually got together, it could be a different story.

He shook his head. As attracted as he was to her, as much as he secretly enjoyed her company, he didn’t want to set any false expectations. Tomorrow, he’d have his bike back. He’d check out of Mel’s and head up to Sanctuary, where he’d spend his remaining days before heading back to Campbell’s Junction.

Back to do what, he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Beyond cleaning up his dad’s estate, which could conceivably be more complicated with Sam in the picture, he hadn’t decided what he was going to do.

He looked over to the corner table, now devoid of carnations, and rubbed absently at his chest. That look of disappointment in her eyes burned like indigestion in his chest. The knowledge that he might not see her again intensified the feeling.

There’s still time, a little voice said in the back of his head as he glanced at the digital clock.

He was in town for one more night. They were both adults. He’d just make it clear right up front that it was a one-time thing.

He pulled out his phone, tempted to do just that. If he called, she’d be there in a heartbeat.

Which was exactly why he couldn’t do anything of the sort.

He tossed his phone on the side table and picked up the television remote instead. No sooner had he pointed it at the screen than there was a knock at the door.

He opened it up to find Penny. Just like that, the indigestion vanished. “What are you—”

“This is stupid,” she said, pushing her way into his room.

“Excuse me?”

Hearing voices down the hall, Jaxson quickly closed the door.

“This,” she said, waving her hand back and forth between the two of them. “This misplaced sense of whatever it is between us.”

His heart thumped against the walls of his chest, the denial racing to his lips, even as his mind shouted, Yes! “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted, a cute, feminine sound that almost made him smile.

“We’re both adults. I find you extremely attractive, and at the risk of sounding full of myself, I think you feel the same way about me.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I know. You don’t want to start anything. I get that. News flash: I don’t either.”

He blinked. “What do you want, Penny?”

“You. One night. No strings.”

It was like she’d read his mind.

She started pacing gingerly, then apparently thought better of it and started waving her hands around instead and talking faster. “When I was a senior in high school, our German club took a field trip to the Catskills for the big Oktoberfest celebration they have every year.”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Just listen, okay? There was this stand that had something called bienenstich kuchen—this heavenly dessert with vanilla pudding and cream and butter. It smelled so good, and I wanted to try it so bad. Just one piece. Just a taste. But I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because when we got there, I overheard someone say, ‘Ten to one, Penny Plumpernickel spends the whole day at the dessert platz.’ ” Her cheeks turned red. “I liked my desserts, and it showed. It still does.”

His eyes raked up and down her luscious curves, the protest right there, burning on his lips. If she only knew how fucking beautiful she was.

“The point is, I have always regretted not trying that cake. For pretending to be someone I wasn’t just to meet someone else’s expectations. I like dessert. I’m going to eat dessert if I want, and to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he had an idea. “What does that have to do with me?”

She turned the full force of her gaze on him. “You, Jaxson Adams, are my bienenstich. I want a taste, just one, before I go back to my everyday menu.”

He blinked at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

“If I’m wrong and you’re not attracted to me, just say so. I’ll go and never bother you again. But if you are, this might be our only chance, and I don’t want to spend the next ten years regretting that I didn’t at least try to take it.”

* * *

image

Two steps—that was all it took before she was pressed tight against him.

His hands cupped the base of her head and tilted her gaze up to his. Beneath his palms, her pulse thrummed wildly, and her breath caught.

He lowered his lips to a mere hairbreadth from hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sure,” she whispered. “So very sure.”

That was what he needed to hear. He closed the remaining distance and captured her mouth. Her hands gripped at his upper arms, the scrape of her nails only slightly dulled by the fabric.

He allowed his hands to explore some of those curves he’d been fantasizing about. Along the sides of full, plump breasts. Inward, along the natural flow of her waist. Then back out, following the flare of her hips.

Jaxson groaned and moved to her ass, filling his large hands and pulling her tighter against him. She gasped into his mouth at the feel of his hardness pressing against her belly.

He wasn’t the only one with roaming hands. Hers had moved, too, and were inching their way up under his shirt, over his abs, mapping out each dip and ridge.

“Off,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Without completely relinquishing his hold, he used one arm to reach behind him, grab his shirt, and pull it over his head.

Her eyes glittered as she looked over his bared chest with blatant appreciation. Without warning, she leaned forward and licked, sending shivers down his spine and right into his balls.

“Your turn.”

She stepped back only far enough to cross her arms, grab the edges of her top, and lift upward, revealing the full extent of the lushness he’d only imagined before this point. Before she had the shirt fully over her head, he leaned down and tongued the hardened peak clearly visible through the pink satin.

She tossed the shirt, grabbed his hair with both hands, and arched her back, demanding more.

He was happy to oblige. He was happy to do a lot of things. Using his bigger body, he backed toward the bed, bringing her with him. Sinking down, he coaxed her to straddle his lap. Then, he reached around and unfastened her bra at the back. He wasted no time in slipping the straps down her arms and tossing it off to the side.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured. His mouth was watering for a taste.

She gasped when he wrapped his lips around one taut nipple and sucked, tongued, and bit lightly. The way she rocked her hips suggested she liked that. He was glad because he sure as hell did.

They made out like teenagers, both topless, hands busy, intent on exploring and stroking. He’d forgotten how much fun foreplay could be.

She was breathing heavily when she finally pushed herself off his lap and began to tug at his jeans. He stopped her.

“Not yet.”

Her pout was adorable. “Why not?”

Because if she got her hands—or worse, her mouth—on him, he wouldn’t last. Yeah, it had been a while, and even if it hadn’t, the woman lit a fire in his blood. If they only got one night together, he was going to make damn sure it was a good one.

“Haven’t you ever played baseball before?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking at him with dazed, lust-filled eyes.

“You can’t go from second base straight to home. It’s against the rules.”