Chapter 16

MELODY

Life isfascinating and weird sometimes.

Before Aretha Stenson, I used to talk to a life and business coach, Melissa Broderick. She was expensive, very much in demand, and direct in her approach.

One of the things I remember her saying was that the universe always conspires to send us the things we need.

Sometimes, we ask for or think aboutthembefore we get them. Andsometimes, we get what we don't even know we need.

‘Those are the trickiest because we fight them the hardest,'she used to say.

Ihave a feelingJax London is one of those things, although I hope I'm wrong.

A fresh, sweet aroma lifts off the satin sheets as he lays me down.

"Naked," he says, waiting for me to shed my robe and drop it on the floor.

He removes his jacket and boots before throwing another log into the fire, turning off the lights, and collecting his cigarettes and lighter from the window sill.

"This is a smoke-free place," I remind him.

He tosses them on the nightstand, displeased, and brings me the tray of strawberries and a full glass of champagne.

"I'll eat strawberries first," I say, and he hands me the fruit while placing my drink next to his cigarettes.

His clothes—dark jeans, a long-sleeved top, socks, and a belt—are all good quality. The only things that add a glint to his somber attire are his buckle, necklace, chiseled rings, and soulful eyes.

"How come a man like you had nothing better to do than to drive out of New York on a Saturday night?" I ask, propping myself up on an elbow and facing him while he lies down, a big pillow at his back, and smiles.

"How come a woman like you had planned to spend the night alone in a honeymoon suite while actively dating?"

I grin.

"I'm no longer dating. You don't allow me to do that."

He laughs.

"You're cute. I asked you not to date. That doesn't mean those suckers won't come back for seconds."

"First off, there are no suckers as in plural. And then there are no seconds. I didn't get that far withhim."

"What about the others?"

He picks up a strawberry from the tray between us and brings it to my lips. I lock my lips around it and sink my teeth into it.

The fruit is ripe, flavorful, and juicy, while the layer of chocolate is thin and brittle.

It melts in my mouth.

"The others as in…?"

"The ones before this one?"

I chew on my fruit thoughtfully while he enjoys the view and brushes off a speck of chocolate from my lips before sucking his finger clean.

"Have some," I invite him. "They'rereally good."

He doesn't make the slightest move, so I pick one myself, bring it to his lips, and push it against his mouth.

He resists me for a moment, amused by my effort, before he takes the whole treat and wraps his lips around my finger, keeping me hostage.

Something happens then, and I lean closer to him, my eyes hovering over his mouth.

He releases my finger and squashes the chocolate-dipped strawberry between his teeth while I moveevencloser… So close that the hard tips of my breasts brush against the soft fabric of his top, and my body is a mere inch away from his.

I'm no longer propped on my elbow, but my hand is still connected to the covers when I bring my other hand to his face and center my eyes on his mouth.

Petals slide off, landing on the floor, as I bring my lips to his and kiss his fruit-and-chocolate-scented mouth.

He holds me in his arms, his fingers fanned over my lower back before dipping down and palming my butt.

"If you kiss me like that," he says. "We won't be able to avoid sex."

Those words coming from his mouth make my insides tremble.

"Yes, you're right," I say, tearing my mouth away from his. "Although we haven't even kissed," I say, and he gives me a nasal chuckle that electrifies my skin.

We're going through this like we're in high school.

He says something, and I pull back.

I say something, and he pulls back.

We've been doing this little dance for a while and haven't even noticed.

"I couldn't agree more," he says, lifting the tray and placing it on the nightstandas well.

"Do you mind if I remove my top? It's too warm for me," he says.

"No, not at all."

I pull back a little while he grips the back of his top and slides it off.Muscles adorned with ink move beneath his skin, and Istudy him with fascination.

The moment of contemplation is cut short when he wraps his arm around me, reaches back to the food tray, brings another strawberry to my mouth, and pushes it against my lips.

"We won't have sex. I promise," he says, his words having the exact opposite effect on me, making me want him even more.

A part of me still warns me I'm doing this the wrong way. No matter how fascinating he is, this could come back and bite me in the butt.

So, I'm dwelling.

I'm also getting reacquainted with his arms, and this time, his chest is bare against mine, and I'm naked against his frame.

I press my hand against his chest and run my fingers down his abs.

I'm sure he's done this before.Talked toa girl into removing her clothes. Toldher all the right things.

He's too smooth and confident, and his strategy workstoo damn well.

But I don't care.

"Let me show you what you did to me," he says, carefully pushing the strawberry between my lips.

My mouth is full whenhe presses his lips against mine. A shudder goes through me as melted chocolate,and strawberry juice drip from my mouth.

I can't focus on chewing while his lips are on mine, so when he slides his tongue into my mouth, I lose it a little and just go for it.

We make a mess. Bits of strawberry, and drops of chocolate, and thenhismusky smell making me horny.

He presses me into him, runs his hand down my back and over my rear, and instinctively, I know what to do, how to position myself so that he has access to me.

My leg is hitched high on his thigh while he drags his hand down.

"That's fucking right…" he rumbles against my lips, smelling like dark chocolate and strawberries.

Pressing his middle and ring fingers together, he starts moving them in and out of my center in a hypnotizing rhythm.

The other hand wraps around my neck, supporting my head, controlling my mouth, and bringing me closer to him.

He enjoys the slight flutter of my lashes and the trembling of my lips.

"You truly like this, don't you?" he asks quietly, relishing the effect he has on me.

"Yes."

I enjoy how he touches me and how we take it step by step.

Pressing his thumb against my neck, he lowers his mouth and licks bits of chocolate and strawberries off my skin, leaving kisses all the way.

My resolve dissolves as I choose to trust him and follow his lead.

We're still not dating.

We can't be together––not in the traditional way, anyway––so I'm safe.

I'll just have one steamy affair before going back to searching for a suitable partner.

With trust comes feeling these things with abandon.

And with abandon, moans roll off my lips, and my fingers move overhisneck and chest. And if my touch goes any lower, we won't be able to stop.

The temptation is hard to resist, and I'm sure we'll get there, but maybe not tonight.

I don't want to rush things, although that seemsmore andmore improbable. Not rushing, I mean.

Establishing trust makes me lean into his touch, giving him more power over me.

My eyes are closed, so he can't see how much I enjoy what he does to me, but the quickening of his breaths tells me I affect himgreatly.

Making me feel great while containing his pleasure is the greatest gift he can give me.

"Jax…" I say, my legs shaking, my center pulsing. "I'm right there," I confess, a vortex of unimaginable pleasure ready to unfold and sweep through me.

He pushes his fingers deeper and crushes my clit under his thumb while sinking his teeth into my bottom lip.

I open my mouth, and we collide ferociously, the rhythm of his fingers only increasing.

My orgasm comes with guilt, my frame jolting against his chest, my nails buried in his back.

Panting, I open my eyes and give him a smile.

He looks at me contently when a phone rings in the room. It's not mine, for sure, as mine is turned off.

He glances at his jacket yet doesn't move while I fall back, still fleetingly happy.

His phone stops before starting to ring again, and I roll onto my side, prop myself up on an elbow again, and pay more attention.

"Who's calling you?" I ask.

It's late, and whoever that person is, they don't care.

He shrugs a shoulder, seemingly more interested in my reaction than his phone.

The third time it rings, I give him a crooked eyebrow, and he smiles at me amusedly.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" I say.

"No."

He extends his arm out and picks up his jacket.

"Just so you know, I'm not the jealous type."

"Sure. As you say,"hemurmurs dismissively, not believing a word I say.

He retrieves his phone and answers the call.

"Yeah…" he says evenly, looking at me. "Mm-hmm. Where?"

A few moments pass before he glances out the window, a severe expression gliding over his face as the person at the other end of the line keeps talking.

I can't make out their words, but I can tell it's a man.

Jax is suddenly broody, and I like that side of him. Perhaps too much.

He's a walking contrast, wild and stableat the same time, like a rock in a whirlpool of dark water.

"When?" he asks, and it seems like he's agreed to something. "Okay. I'll take care of it."

He ends the call and puts his cell phone on his jacket.

"Problems?" I murmur.

"No."

He brushes a hand over his eyes, which doesn't look like there aren't any problems.

"Why do you have a burner?" I ask after a moment.

He looks at me through his parted fingers before dragging his hand down. "You looked me up?"

A grin shines across his lips.

I say nothing.

"Why did you look me up?"

He seems flattered.

"I wanted to know who you were."

"That was before I told you who I was."

"Yes."

He crosses his arms over his chest.

"What else did you want to know?"

I ponder for a second.

"How old you were. I brought it up in the conversation, but you never told me."

He laughs, his mood shifting.

"If I remember correctly, I did it on purpose because you freaked out."

"Hmm."

"Are you still freaked out?"

"Are you younger than me?"

"Obviously."

"How much younger?"

He laughs again, a shred of nervousness threading through his voice.

"How much of an age difference would make youhave a meltdown?"

Any age difference.

I'm used to older men. That's all I know.

"I don't know."

He studies my expression and brings his hand to my face before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and stroking my cheek with tenderness and candor.

"Would it bother you if you knewthere wasa big age differencebetween us?"

"How big?"

"Answer me."

Our eyes stay locked.

"You know a thing or two about me. So tell me…"heinsists.

"It depends."

"That's not an answer."

"I'm serious."

His smile dies out.

"It depends on what?" he asks.

I feel a heaviness in my chest as if I'm asked to give up on something without knowing everything I need to know.

I shrug.

"I don't know. It depends on if we're seeing each other again or not. If…"

I stop.

"I don't know," I say.

"If we become a couple?" he asks.

"Yes. That. Maybe… I don't know."

"For someone who knows a lot, you surely know nothingwhen it comes tothis."

"I don't want to say something stupid."

"Just say it."

"I think I've already said it."

"That we are different? And I caught you at a bad time?"

I nod.

And nod again.

"We've discussed that…" he says, brushing his thumb over my cheek. I told you I know I'm not for you—not now, at least. That doesn't mean I won't be. I wouldn't have said what I said to you if I hadn't thought about that aspect. So…" he says, taking his hand away from my face and crossing his arms on top of his chest again.

"Your age," I say.

"Guess."

"I'm not in the mood."

"It's a five-year gap too much?"

I perk up.

"Seriously?"

I'm half happy that it's not worse.

Does he look his age?

Twenty-nine years old?

Yes. He can be in his late twenties.

Oh, that sounds so bad.

But then a glint in his eyes gives him away.

"It's not that, is it?"

"No."

"You served time…" I murmur.

He chuckles.

"What?" I say.

"It sounded funny. Serving time doesn't make me older."

"How old are you?"

He runs his teeth over his bottom lip, and I want to kiss himsobadly. I push upright, my hair falling over my breasts, my legs folded under me. He can't peel his eyes away from me, and I read a pang of regret in his gaze, which tells me I won't like his answer, and I'm moments away from being mad at him.

He uncrosses his arms and lifts all his fingers while mouthing the number just in case I haven't caught it.

"Ten. It's ten…"

"What??"

My voice explodes like a pricked balloon.

"Shhh…"

"Don't shush me," I bark, pulling away from him. "How? How can you be so young?

I don't pay attention as I crawl away from him, looking for my robe, which is on the other side of the bed.

To his amusement, I slide off the edge and fall to the floor.

"Hey. Easy. Easy,"hesays, leaping off the bed and rounding it to help me up.

Faster than him, I push up and spin around before knowing exactly where I want to go.

I don't want to cross paths with him, so I dash to the closet,where I look for my ownfuzzy bathrobe.The one I was supposed to wear if he weren't here with me and lulled me into orgasm–inducing activities.

Of course, he didn't want to fuck me.

He knew how I'd react, so he gave me a sample of what he could do to me, leaving the rest for later.

"How could you?" I mutter, fighting my robe.

"Chill. It's not that big of a deal."

I pivot fast to him and finger his chest.

"For you, maybe. I was in the middle of looking for a good man to start a family with. Not immediately, I mean.Uh… You know what I mean," I say, flustered, before pushing past him and going straight to the bedroom.

He follows me, watching me as I tap my clutch in desperation.

"The cigarettes are over there."

"Yes, the cigarettes," I snap, debating for a second whether to break the rules and light one or not.

We've already done it this evening.

I pull one out and put it between my lips when he clicks the lighter open and runs the flame across the tip.

He lets me blow off some steam as I take a drag, push it out quickly, and look at him like he's stolen something from me.

"What were you thinking?"

"That you were hot. And didn't have sex in a while. And needed a good lay."

"You didn't even fuck me…"

His lips move into a smile.

"Well, technically…"

"That was not fucking. You didn't want to have sex with me because you knew how I'd react."

"Maybe. And I was right. You also…"hepauses. "Didn't want to have sex with me because you thought we weren't compatible."

"You think we are?"

"For what…?"

A grin spreads across his lips.

"For sex, we are perfect," he says. "I can rock your world. You know that. And for the other thing? That's up to you. You were looking for a, uh… What was that? A good man to have a family with? You think Thomas is a good man?"

"No," I say frankly before crushing the cigarette against the porcelain edge of the food tray. "None ofthemwere good. They couldn't even finger fuck me. But as I said before, finding that perfect man for me isn't about sex. And this is something that you will probably find amusing, and you may even argue with me about it."

"I won't. And you're probably right. But I don't see why you insist on finding a man like him."

I make a swift gesture.

"We're not having this conversation. There are so many wrong things with me discussing this part of my life with you. I could be your mother, for fuck's sake…" I say dramatically, knowing how ridiculous I sound.

He laughs.

"You didn't just say that."

"I could if I were prematurely developed."

"Were you?"

"No. But that's beyond the point."

"Drop it then. You can't be my mother, but I can be your daddy if you want me to," he jokes.

"Uh… Forget about it. I'm trying to make a point here."

I look around, scratching my head.

"So, how old are you exactly?"

"If you are thirty-four…"

I shot him a questioning look.

"I read your biography," he says.

"Uh-huh. Go on… So, you're twenty-four then?"

He gestures as if to say, ‘It wasn't that hard, was it?'

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be twenty-five before you're thirty-five, and then the age gap will be smaller."

I flick my hand up, annoyed.

"Oh… Bite me." My voice quickly changes. "I can't believe you."

I'm mad, seriously mad, realizing how much I like Jax London, who fucked with my life.

The news derails me so badly that I need time to let it all sink in and get a grip on myself.

I pick up his jacket and toss it onto the couch.

"You're not coming anywhere near me tonight. I need to think this through. You can sleep over there."

I point to the couch.

"You're not kicking me out?" he says, barely withholding his laughter.

"You can leave if you want to."

His lips crease into a smile.

"I'll take the couch."

"Good. And you stay there. I need to go take a shower."