“Have you done this a lot?”
“I can’t tell you. You said I couldn’t.”
“Well, in the interest of diseases...”
“I assure you, I’m disease free. I’ve been celibate for six years, and I’m physician approved.”
Her ears pricked. Jax said it like he’d taken on some kind of celibacy challenge. Celibate for six years...she mentally did the math. That was as long as Maizy’d been alive. Maybe he’d been too busy mourning his wife? Maybe she’d died and she was so phenomenal it had taken him this long to get over her?
Should she be flattered she was the one he was breaking that vow for?
He slid his hand under her butt and moved her closer, taking the wineglass from her hand and setting it on the floor. “The celibacy wasn’t intentional. I just had other things to do that were more important.”
Insert pin in bubble. As always, she was overthinking her importance in this. “I haven’t been celibate for six years,” she blurted. Gah. Again, she was oversharing.
“That’s because you only just got divorced.”
“Clifton’s been gone awhile now. It just wasn’t official until a few months ago.”
“So you’ve had some time on your own.”
“I have. I like it.” She did like it. Mostly.
His eyes said he didn’t like her answer, but his response was as light as his fingertips on her bare thigh. “And you’ve been busy enjoying your freedom?”
She placed her palm over his, sharing his hand’s easy glide over her skin. “I wouldn’t use the word freedom. Clifton didn’t keep me chained up. There are just things you don’t end up doing because you’re a couple. You compromise on everything from the color of your bathroom towels to where to hang a picture. I like not having to consult.”
“You needed a consultation to hang a picture?” he asked, parting the hem of her mysteriously sexy trench coat.
She shook her head. “I don’t mean we had to call a press conference every time I did something. I just mean you have to include your partner in all decisions big or small. I like makin’ my own decisions. I like going to bed when I want to. I like watching whatever strikes my fancy on TV.” I like having total control over the TV remote, too. I like snuggling with my body pillow instead of a real body. I like having one less egg to fry.
That sounds suspiciously like a song, Em.
His chuckle was carefree, but his eyes were clouded. “You make marriage sound like a prison camp.”
“That’s not what I mean at all. You were married...you know exactly what I mean.” Hint. Hint. Weren’t you married, Jax? Huh? Huh? Bet your wife didn’t leave you because she wanted to.
Ugh. She should have just winked and nudged him in the shoulder for all her subtlety.
Jax didn’t confirm or deny. Instead, he said, “If there’s something you want to ask me, Em, just ask.”
No! “Sorry. I was born with an extranosy gene. And I’m new at this. Brand-new.”
“We’re doing the dreaded talking. Isn’t that against the rules?”
“I made those rules, didn’t I?”
“You did. But if you want to, we could adjust the setting.”
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on the offer or the tone of his offer. She wasn’t reading anything into anything anymore. “Nope. If there’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of, it’s that I don’t want any complications in my life. Don’t take it personally.”
He smiled the Jax smile that said everything was right as rain. “Nothing personal.”
Flirty Em nudged her, reminding her she was losing the point of the entire night, and it was a drag.
She curled her chin into her shoulder and smiled at him. “So, do you want to see what’s under my long, mysteriously sexy, totally obvious trench coat?”
Jax cracked his knuckles like he was gearing up for the chore ahead of him. “Hit me.”
Eleven
Em’s fingers loosened the knot at her waist while her shoulders shrugged the coat off. She wasn’t as timid as he’d expected her to be about it, either.
At first, her eyes gleamed with purpose, as though the mission was to disrobe and disrobe as fast as she could before having the chance to think about it. But then her eyes went soft when she realized she’d taken the coat off.
And there she was.
In something powder-blue with lace. Maybe ivory lace. He didn’t know colors. He didn’t care. It was filmy and cupping her in all the right places, accentuating her breasts, making the swell of them fuller. The hem stopped at the tops of her thighs, thighs that were as soft and silky as the rest of her was bound to be.
The material clung to her waist, dipping in to the rivet of her belly button. An innie. Em had an innie he wanted to skim with his tongue. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a dark cloud of loose curls, but it was her lips he couldn’t take his eyes off.