“Not yet,” he rasped.
She ground her teeth together as sweat ran in rivulets from her temples and between her breasts. Holding herself on the sharp precipice of an orgasm was a sweet anguish she’d never be able to describe. How could something so torturous feel so totally amazing? Maybe this was like the sexual version of the Stockholm Syndrome, and Vanessa would find herself needing and loving the pleasure/pain only he could give her.
A minute longer and she’d die, no doubt in her mind. Thankfully, Jax must have felt the same way, because he spoke the words that released her at last. “Now, baby,” he said against her neck. “Let go with me now.”
And so she did, praying he’d hold onto her tight enough to prevent the cracks he’d made from breaking her wall into a million pieces.
…
Swaying gently in the hammock with Vanessa tucked under his arm, the soothing sounds of the ocean waves in the distance and the stars shining overhead, Jackson felt more at peace than he remembered being in the last decade.
Oh, he’d been content. Happy, even. But underneath all that had always been a sense of unease with himself. The mystery of who his real parents were—of who he was—had weighed on him since the day he found those papers and learned he’d been living a lie.
But something about Vanessa quieted the fray of unanswered questions inside him. The way she curled into him with her leg intertwined in his and her hand resting over his heart was surprisingly comforting. Not at all stifling like usual after he’d been with a woman. Not that he was the type to cut and run right after sex, but he liked his space in bed and wasn’t much for cuddling in the afterglow.
However, tonight he’d gathered her up in his arms, grabbed the sheet from the bed, and settled them into the hammock with the bed sheet around them just enough to cover their nakedness.
Jax kissed the top of her head and continued stroking her arm with his fingers as he thought of his newest revelations about his faux fiancée.
The sex had been mind-blowing, to say the least. He’d had a taste of her last night, but it hadn’t prepared him for what she’d be like completely unbridled. Passionate didn’t even begin to describe her. It was like she’d been lit on fire from the inside, desperate for something—or someone—to put out the flames before they consumed her.
And as much as she fought for control, it wasn’t what she wanted. Or needed.
Five minutes into meeting her, he’d pegged her as a total control freak. She organized her life and the people in it like feng shui enthusiasts organized their living spaces. A place for everything and everything in its place, his mom had been fond of saying. For as carefree and fun as she was on the outside, she was as rigid as any soldier on the inside.
She was one hell of a strong woman, used to taking the lead and giving the orders. It was probably one of the reasons she and Lucie were such great friends. Lucie wasn’t a mindless sheep by any means, but she’d always been more comfortable letting others forge ahead so she could stay comfortably in the shadows.
Well, that was until Reid got a hold of her. Though she still didn’t enjoy being the center of attention as much as Reid, she’d definitely broken free of her cocoon. When he’d seen her a few months earlier she’d been absolutely radiant, finally comfortable in her own skin, and very much in love.
But his sister was the last person he wanted to think about right now. What he really wanted was to know more about the enigmatic woman in his arms. A woman who lived by a set of strict rules. A woman who could flirt and tease one minute, then shut down completely the next. A woman who needed control and yet so desperately wanted it taken from her.
More of those opposites that continued to draw him in as much as they’d possessed him on the first day to make up the crazy shit that put them in this scenario. As her soft breaths feathered across his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the lies. After all, without them he wouldn’t be holding her like he was. What he did regret was that as soon as he told her the truth, she’d probably never speak to him again. And kick him in the junk for good measure.
“Hey, V?” he asked softly.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“Where did you get the idea for your rules?”
She stiffened in his arms and the lazy patterns she’d been drawing on his chest with her nail stopped. “I told you I won’t talk about it.”
“So you did.” He continued stroking her arm until he felt her relax again. “What’s the deal with the starfish?”
“Sea star.”
“Whatever,” he said, feeling a wave of déjà vu.
“But they’re not fish, so it’s inaccurate.”