Rules of Entanglement

Day 3: Tuesday


“Rise and shine, V.”

Vanessa felt the warm rays of the sun stream across her face, causing her to squinch her eyes tight and moan into her pillow.

“Come on. I gotta get to the gym, and you’re coming with me today, remember?”

Remember? She couldn’t remember anything past the feel of his arms around her and the way he felt deep inside her. Even now her breasts tingled with the memory of his touch.

“Give me ten more minutes,” she muffled into her pillow.

His shadow fell over her face as he moved in front of her, his voice rumbling through her body and landing deep in her belly. “I usually prefer to go much longer, but considering our tight schedule, I’d be more than happy to give you a ten-minute wakeup call.”

Her eyes flew open to see Jackson’s wicked smile as he began to untie his white athletic pants. Holy mother of God. As much as she was tempted to let him make good on his promise—or maybe it was supposed to be a threat—she wanted to get her bearings with him before their next encounter. She wasn’t used to being caught off-guard, and considering how last night went down, off-guard was a major understatement.

When his thumbs hooked into his waistband and began tugging the material down, she bolted upright in bed and held a hand out to hopefully prevent any further exposure that would change her mind. “I’m up! I’m up. Just…uh…” She tried to think, but her brain felt steeped in a fog worse than a London morning. “Let me get some coffee in me, and we can go.”

“I already made it for you.” With a triumphant smile, he righted his pants and hauled her out of the bed by her waist. “It’s in a travel mug over on the counter.”

It was then she noticed she was standing stark naked in front of him in the garish light of day. Gasping, she yanked the sheet from the bed and clutched it to her chest. He chuckled and stepped waaaaay into her personal space. Unfortunately, if she backed up, she’d only succeed in falling back onto the bed, so she lifted her chin and stood her ground.

“What’s so funny?”

He placed those large hands on her hips. Since she hadn’t wrapped the sheet around her, his long fingers reached past where the material draped her frame, branding her skin with their rough heat and memories from the night. “The fact that you feel the need to cover up when hours ago I had free rein to do whatever I wished to this very naked body.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a huge difference between seeing something by moonlight and seeing it in sunlight. So if you don’t mind…”

Storm clouds rolled over his features. “I sure as hell do mind,” he growled. “I can’t believe a woman as strong and beautiful as you has body image issues. Now I know you’re crazy.”

She scoffed. “Every woman has body image issues, Jax. It doesn’t matter if you’re an average girl or Kate Moss.”

“Then I’m going to make you the first woman in the world to lose those issues.” Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he dipped her back slightly as his mouth took hers in a fevered kiss, damn near making her forget her name, much less her nitpicky self-image complaints. When he finally broke away, they were both a little out of breath. “But not now. Now we’re going to the gym, so get your cute ass in gear.” He pushed her toward the bathroom with a slap on her ass that made her jump and squeal in surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder as she crossed the room, making sure her hips swayed, hoping it tortured him on some primal level. He more than deserved it for the stunt he pulled last night. Not that she was complaining. Him waking her up had been hot as hell. But now she knew she had to be careful, or Jax would end up taking a lot more from her than just her control.

…

Jackson ran a hand through his hair and let out the breath he’d been holding since he saw the red mark of his hand on that pale ass walking away from him. F*ck, he was in trouble. She was feisty as hell when she had her wits about her. It surprised him to find it was just as fun being on the receiving end of that arrogant attitude as it was to rid her of it with some well-placed kisses.

He wished he could say he’d slept as well as she had, but the small taste of her had only made him want her more. Most of the night was spent rocking in the hammock and convincing himself to leave her be for the remainder of the night instead of starting a sex marathon to rival the days of the Romans.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon signaling the time for his morning run, he’d probably only gotten a couple hours of restless sleep. Now his eyes felt scratchy, and he hadn’t mustered the energy to shave, so he was sporting a day’s worth of stubble.

He wasn’t sure what the rest of the day would bring, but one thing was for sure. He needed to get some alone time with Miss MacGregor as soon as humanly possible.

She showered and dressed in record time and a half hour later, they arrived at the gym just as his other teammates were trickling in. He introduced her to his coach, Frank, and explained that she was a guest of his and would be sitting in as a spectator for the workout.

The guys gravitated to her like a Playboy bunny in a monastery. Frank brought out his “nicer than those damn metal things” leather office chair, and she had her pick of the Powerade Zero flavor rainbow from the guys who always brought coolers full of the things.

As he stretched on the mats, Jax looked on with amusement as she laughed at their antics and they dubbed her team mascot for the day. He couldn’t blame them for their good-natured flirting. Even with her hair in a ponytail and her simple outfit of khaki shorts and teal halter top, she made a damn pretty picture. Add in her outgoing personality and infectious smile, and there wasn’t one of his teammates who wasn’t smitten with her.

If they’d been anywhere else and random guys were paying her the same attention, Jax had a feeling he’d be a lot less amused. But his boys knew she was there with him, and regardless if he and Vanessa were openly dating or just friends, they wouldn’t break Guy Code by seriously hitting on her.

Soon Frank broke up the group and harassed the guys into starting their warm-ups. They did a bunch of jump-roping and jumping jacks, then dove headlong into suicide sprints. The entire camp of men worked their asses off, giving their coach one hundred and ten percent of their effort, and sweating enough to soak through their clothes five times over.

They took a five-minute break to rehydrate before they split into groups. Jax was in the group to hit the cardio circuit first. After that he’d move on to agility, strength, grappling, striking, and sparring. Leaning on the wall across the gym where he’d stashed his gear, he chugged his Powerade while trying to figure out why every cell in his body urged him to go to Vanessa and spend the few minutes of break he had left with her.

For that reason alone, he stayed right where he was. Enjoying her company and being eager to get her beneath him for some more fun between the sheets was one thing. But the need to take whatever opportunity he had just to be on the receiving end of that smile was a foreign feeling he wasn’t sure what to make of. So he’d prove to himself he didn’t in fact need it. That he was fine right where he was.

The double doors leading to the parking lot swung open and a lean kid barely old enough to drink legally sauntered through with a heavy gym bag slung over his shoulder, pushing his mirror-black sunglasses onto his head.

Coach glanced at the clock on the wall then glared at the kid sharply enough to cut right through him. “Akana! Who in the hell gave you permission to walk into camp whenever you damn well please?”

Chewing on gum like a cow with cud, Danny Akana offered an apology about as sincere as a lion to a zebra before his first bite. “Sorry, Coach. Overslept. Won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Frank said with a finger jabbing the air in the kid’s direction. “Or next time you’ll be scrubbing everyone’s jocks after practice.”

Akana held both palms out in a sign of concession, but as soon as Frank turned his back, the punk made a jerking-off motion with his hand.

The kid was the son of one of Frank’s oldest friends, which explained Frank’s leniency with him. If any of the other guys had pulled that shit, they’d be punished physically until they puked, passed out, or both. Jackson didn’t know Akana well, as the kid had only been with the gym for a couple of weeks, but he knew enough to know that he didn’t like him. He was cocky and disrespectful, and Jax couldn’t wait for the day when someone knocked him down a peg or two. Or out.

“One more minute, fellas!”

Jax drained the rest of his drink, then crossed to the water fountain a few feet from Vanessa to fill the bottle before heading to the treadmill. She’d kicked the flip-flops from her pedicured feet and brought a foot up to rest on the chair with her arms wrapped around her bent leg. She looked like a pixie princess in casualwear perched on her leather throne while overseeing her subjects.

He grinned as he studied her profile from the corner of his eye. A pixie. That’s definitely what she reminded him of with her wild hair, pale skin, and graceful willowy frame. Even her facial features gave her an elfin look. Her pert nose turned up ever so slightly at the end, her lips were full but not overly wide, and her ears had the slightest of rounded points at the top.

But her personality was anything but delicate, and anyone who got in her way learned real quick the age-old lesson of never judging a book by its cover.

Just as he turned to head to the treadmill, Jax caught a sight that held him in place. Akana had approached Vanessa and was now flirting with her. But it wasn’t the harmless kind. He was actually making a play for her.

Jackson’s muscles clamped down on his bones. Unable to stop himself, he strode over, prepared to send Akana off with a threatening glare every man understood meant back the f*ck off.

“The kid bothering you, V?”

She glanced up at him with a smile and said, “Not at all. Danny here was kind enough to offer me his services. He said he could show me how the local boys do it around here,” she said with enough sarcastic innuendo to choke a donkey. Or embarrass the hell out of a dude who’d obviously been a little crude with his come-ons.

Jax glanced at Akana, gauging his reaction. “Awfully neighborly of him.”

V nodded. “Wasn’t it, though? Unfortunately, I was just about to inform him that I don’t do anything with boys, local or otherwise, and I already have a man for the job.”

Well, color him shocked as hell. The kid’s jaw shifted back and forth, no doubt grinding his molars into a fine dust, and his face looked a little too flushed, considering he hadn’t done even a single jumping jack.

“You heard the lady, junior. Job’s taken,” Jax said. “Now go start your block training before Coach has you scrubbing my jock with your toothbrush.”

Akana didn’t say anything with his mouth, but his eyes said a whole lot of f*ck you. Jax just raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge, daring the kid to start something, but soon he spun around and stalked off in the opposite direction.

“Nice work,” he told her with a wink. “You doing okay?”

“Are you kidding?” she said as she stood and stretched. “If I’d have known watching sweaty men with gladiator bodies could be so entertaining, I’d have done this years ago. Next time, I’m bringing popcorn.”

He chuckled and stepped in to her. He couldn’t help himself. The hand not holding his water settled in the dip of her lower back as he bent his head to her ear, using the pretense of needing to whisper so he had an excuse to feel her skin and inhale her citrusy scent. “We can leave whenever you want. Say the word and I’ll pack my gear.”

“Aw,” she said with a pout in her voice. “Are you tired already? ’Cause that’s okay if you are. You shouldn’t feel like any less of a man for it.”

His head fell back on his shoulders as he let out a quick oh no she didn’t laugh. Then he sobered and gave her his warning with his lips brushing her cheek. “That’s the start of your punishments for later, woman.”

Making a sound like she’d just bit into a Godiva truffle, she took a step back and gave him a saucy wink. “You might just wanna keep a running tab for those, stud.” Then she smacked his ass before walking away and loudly informing the entire gym they’d be “eating their junk for lunch” if they stepped foot in the locker room within the next five minutes.

A dozen men froze in place, suddenly wary of their pretty mascot and no doubt afraid for their “junk.” Realizing her casually tossed threat turned out to be quite the showstopper, she laughed, the tinkling sound echoing on the tile walls as the door closed slowly behind her.

Every other man in the room may want to turn tail and run from a bold and sassy woman like Vanessa, but Jackson had the exact opposite reaction. He wanted to tackle her to the nearest surface, strip her naked, and make her scream his name.

And he would, too. Maybe not now and maybe not in the next few hours. But soon.

He felt his boxer briefs shrinking and huffed a sigh of frustration as he headed to the cardio area. “Wonderful,” he muttered. “Now I have to do a ten-mile run with a hard-on.”

F*cking hell.

He was in so much trouble.

…

Vanessa felt like a complete ass.

As Jax worked through his training routine, her jaw worked at not gaping in awe. She wanted to kick herself for not paying better attention when Lucie had talked about her brother’s and Reid’s fights over the years. She hated being ignorant in any situation, and at the moment, she felt like the biggest ignoramus on the planet.

He’d already done so much in the first couple of hours: sprints with bungees attached to him, swinging a sledgehammer onto a gigantic tractor tire, and flipping said monstrous tire end over end for what seemed like an eternity.

With each exercise, his muscles flexed and rippled as he isolated them in different motions. They reminded her of the waves rolling and undulating toward the shores. His body was a beautiful machine and though he poured with sweat and his chest heaved with labored breaths, he never once slowed down or even complained when given a task. Instead, it seemed as if he pushed himself harder with each new session.

She’d found the grappling exercises fascinating. Two men trying to best each other with nothing but wrestling moves and submission holds. It wasn’t about strength but quick reactions and the ability to outmaneuver your opponent while watching for the moment he left himself open for that split second, allowing you to strike.

Jax had bested his training partner almost every time, and she heard some of the other guys talking about how his Brazilian jiu-jitsu was his greatest strength.

Now she watched him wrap each hand with over seven feet of three-inch-wide black fabric. Round and round he crisscrossed the wrap over his wrist and palm, making sure to weave them between his fingers and cover his knuckles at the top. Once he secured the Velcro ends and tested his handiwork by flexing and fisting his hands a few times, he grabbed his gloves and walked over to a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

For the next half hour, he pounded his fists into the bag. Sometimes he’d perform high kicks or spinning kicks—she didn’t know the technical terms for any of them—in combination with his punches. His hair was soaked and plastered to the edges of his face and his white sleeveless shirt could’ve won him first place in a wet T-shirt contest. Rawr.

“Maris!”

Jax looked across the room where Frank stood inside the cage. “Coach?”

“Come on in here and spar with Danny, will ya?”

An evil grin cocked up one side of Jax’s mouth. “My pleasure.”

Vanessa didn’t know the deal with him and “the kid,” as Jax called him earlier, but her Spidey Sense told her there wasn’t a lot of love lost between the two. She wondered how it worked when guys who didn’t particularly like each other had to fight nice.

“Well,” she said to herself, “we’re about to find out.” Dang it, she thought, settling back in her cozy chair. She really did wish she had popcorn.

Jackson stripped off his shirt, jogged up the few steps into the large octagonal cage, took his mouth guard from where it was tucked in his waistband—ew—and shoved it past his lips over his top teeth. Danny, like the rest of the guys she’d seen sparring in the cage, wore a padded helmet. Jackson donned no such thing.

“Hey,” she called out. “Where’s your headgear, Maris?”

He looked over his shoulder at her like a teenager upset with his mom for embarrassing him in front of his friends. “I’ll be fine, dear.” His endearment was laced with sarcasm. She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t appreciate his tone, but fine. She got it. He was a big boy and could take care of himself.

She hoped Danny clocked him a good one.

A hulk of a guy—Corey, if she remembered correctly—squatted next to her, shooting a stream of water into his mouth and swallowing. “Don’t worry about Jax,” he told her with an easy smile. “Akana’s just a rookie. He doesn’t stand a chance hurting Jax in a sparring exercise. He’s just in there to defend and make the kid work.”

“Oh yeah? Then why does Danny look like he wants to exact a pound of Jackson’s flesh?”

Corey chuckled. “Probably because the entire gym witnessed you shooting him down, and it was pretty damn obvious who you shot him down for.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes and sighed. “Why are boys such cavemen?”

“Can’t help it,” he said, standing again. “It’s in our DNA.” With that said, he walked toward the cage and yelled, “That’s it, Maris, keep him on his toes!”

For the next twenty minutes or so, Vanessa watched in awe as time and time again Jackson blocked most of Danny’s strikes and thwarted almost all of the kid’s takedowns. The few punches Danny managed to connect only made Jackson offer a wide, plastic-filled smile as he bounced on the balls of his feet and gave him the universal sign of bring it on with his fingers.

When they ended up on the ground it didn’t take more than a minute for Jackson to work his way out of Danny’s hold and reverse the situation, landing Jax on top in the power position.

Corey was right. Jackson could definitely hold his own and then some. But what concerned Vanessa was the look in Danny’s eyes. With every passing minute, the frustration and anger grew more and more obvious, but a glance around the room showed she seemed to be the only one who noticed.

She wasn’t sure what it meant for the two men duking it out in the cage, but nothing good ever came from that kind of a look. She’d seen it over and over again on her stepfather and it had never led to anything remotely good.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax, telling herself Jackson knew what he was doing.

At the moment, Danny had Jackson under him in what she’d learned was called full-guard, when the guy on top was between both legs of the guy on the bottom. The guy on top had the goal of trying to gain more power through half-guard—where he straddled one of the other guy’s legs—or full mount, which meant he managed to completely bypass both of his opponent’s legs and sit on the guy’s hips. All while raining down punches to the head and body.

Unfortunately for Danny, Jackson was just too good. Even with Frank coaching Danny, barking out ways to get around Jackson’s moves and gain the upper hand, Akana never even managed to get to a half-guard position.

Vanessa’s hands clasped together in a viselike grip in her lap as she watched Jackson sweep Danny’s legs to one side as he pushed up with his hips, rolling them over until Jax was now on top in a full mount.

Danny immediately spun under Jax to try and push himself up to a standing position.

Frank’s face turned red as he shouted, “No, Akana, you never give up your back! Turn around and get him into your guard!”

But it was too late for Frank’s order. Jackson already had one strong forearm wedged against the front of the kid’s neck and proceeded to pull his clenched fist toward him with his other hand. Danny’s face flooded with darkening shades of red. It wouldn’t be long before Danny passed out.

This particular scenario had happened once before already, and Danny was supposed to either get out of it or tap out so Jackson would release the hold and they could stand up and start over. But this time Danny wasn’t tapping, and it wasn’t possible to get out of it; Jackson’s arm was in too tight for an escape.

Jackson turned his head to the side and spit out his mouth guard. “Come on, kid, tap and we’ll call it a day.”

But Danny didn’t answer and he didn’t tap as his face grew redder than a tomato. Jackson looked to Frank with a questioning brow and received a single nod in response. Jackson released his hold immediately, and Danny took in big choking gulps of air.

Slapping him on the back, Jax said, “Way to show heart and not give up, kid. I’m impressed. Better luck next time.”

Standing up, Jax turned to her, breathing heavily and dripping sweat as he approached the black mesh of the cage. He hooked his fingers through the holes and smiled. “You ready to get out of here, gorgeous?”

She stood and crossed to the octagon, keeping eye contact until she had to tip her head back. “I’m not afraid to admit when I’m wrong. You’ve proven yourself several times over. So get cleaned up and we can head back to Mau Loa. The day is young and we have things to do.”

Technically those “things” were cake tasting and reviewing the menus for Friday and Saturday, but she let her eyes tell him she meant much naughtier things than that.

Smart man caught on instantly, if the way his pupils swallowed the amber irises was any indication.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll be right there.”

Before he had the opportunity to turn around, Vanessa caught sight of Danny getting to his feet in the center of the ring. He muttered something to himself, but with all the noise of the weights clanging and the guys yelling to one another back and forth, she couldn’t hear what he said. But his wild look said plenty.

Her eyes flew open wide. She shouted Jackson’s name. But the warning came too late.

Everything slowed as though someone had paused the world and now clicked through time frame by frame. Danny cocked his hand back and struck at Jackson like a cobra uncoiling.

Jackson turned around in time to see the fist slicing through the air. He reacted by weaving to the left, but it wasn’t fast enough to avoid Danny’s right hand. What looked to be a jab intended for Jackson’s nose ended up as a glancing hit to his cheek. The impact spun him back to the fence, but he was quick to right himself to keep the threat in his sights.

With Jackson’s back now to her, Vanessa moved over several feet, her fingers clutching the fence, to get a better look at his face. Her stomach turned inside out. A gash below his right eye wept crimson blood and spilled over his jaw and onto his chest.

Jackson pushed off the cage and narrowed his eyes on the man who sucker punched him and now had the gall to get in Jax’s face. Vanessa didn’t know a lot of the technical aspects of fighting, but anyone with a lick of common sense knew that a guy getting up in another guy’s grill was a non-verbal invitation for a good old-fashioned brawl. Exactly the thing she wanted to avoid witnessing.

“Jackson, come on, let’s go.”

Her shaky voice showed her as weak, frightened. Things she’d fought hard to never show anyone again since the day she left home. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t. All that mattered was getting Jackson out of there before… Before what, Nessie? Before things get violent? The man’s a fighter. He’s probably violent by nature…just like Carl.

Oh, God, please no. Not Jackson.

Vanessa’s palms grew clammy, and her skin turned cold. She wanted to plead with him again, but the tightness in her throat had trapped her vocal cords. Jax angled his head and used his shoulder to wipe the blood from his face. Instead of helping the situation, it only smeared it around his stubbled jaw and shoulder like a preschooler’s finger-paint project.

Locking eyes with Danny, he ground out, “That make you feel like a man, kid?”

Danny’s jaw worked and his nostrils flared as though Jackson’s words smelled just as bad as they cut. “Nah,” he said. “But I’ll tell you what will.”

Vanessa held her breath as she watched Danny lean in to speak next to Jackson’s ear. Danny’s lips barely moved and he was too quiet for her to know what he said. Though he held perfectly still, every muscle in Jax’s body gripped his bones that much harder and his hands curled into tight fists as the kid pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face. As he backed up, Danny went so far as to laugh, confident that whatever he’d said to Jackson had gotten the better of him.

A deadly look—the look she hated more than anything and had the power to stir up the dust in her memory and a sickness in her gut—sparked to life in Jackson’s eyes. Normally warm and inviting like a good whiskey on a cold night, his eyes now made her cringe and want to crawl inside herself.

Fighting as a sport was one thing, but fighting out of anger was another entirely, and something she couldn’t abide. Somehow she found her voice for a last-ditch effort at saving her perception of this man who had her turned inside out in only a few days. “Jackson, no, don’t do it! Please!”

Either he couldn’t hear her through the blood roaring in his ears or he chose to ignore her because a second later he threw a punch so fierce Danny’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he crumpled to the mat, a boneless version of his former self.

The coach, who’d left the cage after the sparring match ended, now charged back in, putting himself between a still-furious Jackson and the unconscious man. Corey and another fighter grabbed Jax by the arms and dragged him out of the cage, talking him down from the rage that still held him in its clutches.

As the world sped back up into real time around her, Vanessa spun toward the exit and walked as fast as she could until she at last punched through the double doors.

The heat of the early afternoon pressed in on her like a weight, bearing down on her chest and shoulders until her legs shook and she finally sought relief on the grass off to the side of the entrance.

She schooled herself to take deep, meditative breaths and regain control of her body. Soon she felt back to herself, but she still wasn’t about to go back into the gym. The guys probably thought she couldn’t handle a little blood, which couldn’t be further from the truth. It hadn’t been the blood that upset her but what came after it.

When she moved out of her mother’s house, Vanessa swore she would never involve herself with anyone who settled things with his fists. And even though this thing with Jackson was only a fling, it still bothered her to know he’d reacted the way he did.

Which rankled her even more. Why did it matter how he handled himself in a confrontational situation? It wasn’t like she was sizing him up for a potential relationship. She just wanted to bang his brains out for a few days—three, to be exact—and then go on her merry little way. It didn’t matter to her how many guys he knocked out outside of the cage. Right? Right.

The sound of the doors opening behind her had her glancing over her shoulder. Jackson strode toward her in his long, easy gait, so uncharacteristic of the intense man from minutes before. When he reached her, he lowered to his haunches, elbows resting on his knees and hands dangling between his legs.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

Though he still wore the hand wraps, his gloves were gone and his face and body were cleaned of any blood. Only his slightly swollen cheek and the two butterfly bandages holding the incised flesh together showed any sign that he’d been struck.

She almost reached out to touch it, to test its severity or offer him comfort. But she stopped the impulse by grabbing a fistful of grass and shredding it to pieces instead.

She lifted her chin. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He canted his head and studied her for a moment. “I don’t know. You left pretty quickly after I KOed Akana in there.”

“What did he say to you?”

Jax’s eyes hardened and the muscle in his jaw ticked. “Nothing worth repeating.”

An insult, then. Whether to her or him, it didn’t really matter. She nodded and looked down at the blade of grass she’d rent in two.

“V, I’m sorry. Once my head cleared, I realized you’d tried to stop me.”

She didn’t say anything at first, but when it seemed he was waiting on some sort of explanation, she said, “And?”

“And although I know a lot of women hate violence in general…” He paused to run a hand over the back of his neck before exhaling and wincing up at her from under his lashes. “I’m kind of thinking maybe I broke a rule.”

That took her aback. Either he suspected that everything he did or said broke one of her Rules, or he was tuning in to her in a way that allowed him to differentiate between trivial reactions and meaningful ones.

She sincerely hoped it was the former, for her sanity’s sake. Or my heart’s sake.

“Have I, V?” he asked more gently.

She sighed and looked away from those intense eyes of gold and focused on the safe vibrant pink hibiscus flowers lining the parking lot. “I know you think I’m crazy—that my Rules are crazy—but I have them for a reason. And yes, you broke one.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He paused, then added, “A little high-strung, maybe.”

She whipped her head around, ready to retaliate, but his crooked grin told her he was merely trying to get a rise out of her. It should piss her off—or at the very least annoy her—but that little hitch in the corner of his mouth was like a Vanessa MacGregor bomb diffuser.

“So what are the reasons you have the rules?”

Oh, hell no. Talk about opening a can of worms. Except this was more like a can of snakes. Of the poisonous variety. “No offense, but I rarely tell people I even have them. Why I have them is definitely not a topic open for discussion.”

He seemed to think on that for a while. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say he was probably weighing his options for arguing the point. At last he conceded. “Then tell me which one I broke.”

“Rule #4: Never date a man who chooses fists over words.” He raised a questioning brow. “Believe me, the irony of you fighting for a living isn’t lost on me. Obviously the rule doesn’t apply to fights involved in your career, but that’s not what that was in there.”

He inclined his head. “Agreed.”

“But then again,” she said, meeting his gaze again, “since we’ve agreed we won’t be dating—now or ever—I guess you technically didn’t break anything.”

Vanessa stood and brushed the grass from her shorts. “Go hit the showers so we’re not late meeting Robért. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

…

The Mahina Lounge was empty except for the bustling waitstaff snapping crisp linens, placing pristine china and silverware, and arranging the freshly cut hibiscus centerpieces onto the dining tables of various sizes. Jackson sat at one of the four-tops in the back, close to the kitchen, waiting for Robért to emerge.

He didn’t like the idea of choosing his sister’s wedding cake for her, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. This whole mixed-up-identity situation was sprouting legs and soon it’d be running out of control if they couldn’t figure a way to rein it in.

Looking across the room, Jax studied Vanessa as she spoke to Lucie on the phone. Trying to get an idea of what she wants, he guessed. V stood with her back to him. Yet another sign she was shutting him out since the incident at the gym. On the ride back to the Mau Loa she’d been quiet and stiff in her seat. With back straight and hands folded in her lap, she looked every bit the professional attorney sitting in court, as opposed to the carefree girl who’d sang to the radio as her bare feet tapped out the beat on his dash earlier that morning.

F*cking Akana. Jax wasn’t sorry he’d decked the kid—he deserved it for the shit he’d said just low enough for Jackson to hear—but after seeing Vanessa’s reaction, he was sorry he’d done it in front of her. When he’d turned around to see her leaving the gym, his stomach had dropped. He tried running after her, but Corey had strong-armed him into a chair so Frank could butterfly his cheek. Once all the blood was cleaned off him he went in search of her, and seeing the look on her face—one that looked a lot like disappointment—had almost stopped him in his tracks.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been disappointed in him other than himself. He’d forgotten how much letting someone down burned like acid in the center of his chest.

Vanessa was turning out to be a puzzle he couldn’t solve. If he’d read her right, then for her to be disappointed in him would mean she cared for him on some level. At least a little more than one generally cares for her best friend’s brother whom she barely knew. But that didn’t add up with the calculating woman who made him agree to formal stipulations regarding their sexual relationship.

For probably the fiftieth time since he met her, he wondered what prompted her to make the rules in the first place. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was more than just a woman scorned by a few ex-boyfriends.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed it, glanced at the caller ID, and answered. “What’s the word, man? How’s Lucie?”

“She was feeling better until Vanessa spilled about your little role-playing fiasco down there.” Shit. Reid sounded like he wanted to use him as a punching bag. “What the hell is going on, Jax?”

“Look, this isn’t exactly anything I planned, all right? It started out as something I said just to get under her skin. Or maybe it wasn’t, I don’t know. I meant to tell her the truth, but then the planner got involved and it all went to hell.”

“So what happens when we show up at the end of the week? Because I’m sure as hell not pretending to be you while you get hitched to Vanessa.”

“Whoa! Chill out, okay? The only people getting hitched this weekend are you and my sister.” Jax glanced over to where it looked like Vanessa was finishing up her phone call. There were a lot of hand gestures that, if Lucie could see them, would probably reassure her Vanessa had everything under control. Now he had to convince his best friend of the same thing. Whether Jackson believed it or not.

Scratch that. He had to believe it. Because one way or another, he wasn’t going to let anyone—including a pissed-off not-quite-French wedding coordinator—stop his baby sister from having the wedding of her dreams.

Across the room, V ended her call and started walking toward him just as Robért pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen with a rolling cart. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. You just get my sister healthy so she can travel and marry your punk ass. Gotta go.”

“Jackso—”

Jax tapped the end button and put his phone away just before Vanessa sat in the chair to his right. She kept her attention on Robért setting out a silver tray of mini cakes and small bowls of filling.

He hated that she refused to look at him. Hated that he’d upset her.

Without thinking about it, he gently lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the delicate skin above her knuckles. He didn’t hear it, but rather saw the breath catch in her throat as her eyes flicked to his. Within their depths he saw the barest glimmer of desire beneath the uncertainty.

“Oh, look how sweet!” Robért exclaimed. “I swear, you are just the loveliest couple. You still act like new lovers. So refreshing!”

Vanessa snatched her hand back and gave the man a nervous smile. “So, what do you have for us, Robért? I’m anxious to figure out the cake.”

“Of course, of course! Let’s get down to the hard work of cake tasting, shall we? Then you two can go back to the room and work off those extra calories, if you know what I mean.”

Jax peeked over at Vanessa, who turned bright red and took a sip of her ice water as Robért busied himself with presenting the first cake.

“O-kay, here we go. The first cake is a vanilla cream. It’s light with a delicate vanilla flavor, the most popular cake we have, and of course can be paired with any of our specialty fillings. Popular choices are pineapple curd, guava buttercream, and white chocolate cream cheese. Go ahead, dig in.”

They each sliced off a piece with the edge of their forks. Being a glutton for punishment, Jax watched as Vanessa placed the cake in her mouth and slid the utensil back out. Torrid images—the sort he definitely didn’t need right now—flooded his mind. Giving his dick a command to heel, he focused on tasting the cake he’d put in his own mouth. It was just as Robért described.

“Well?”

Jax looked over at their host and lifted an eyebrow in question.

“What do you think? You can’t taste the cake and not say anything. You need to tell me if you like it, if you don’t like it…”

“Oh,” Jax said, clearing his throat before taking a sip of his water. “I like it a lot, but it’s a little on the plain side. Don’t you think, babe?”

Vanessa didn’t look at him when she responded. “I agree. I like it, but I think she—uh, I want something a little less common.”

Robért clasped his hands to his chest and said, “I couldn’t agree more. Next cake!”

He took another sample from the tray and placed it before them.

“Now, this is a chocolate butter cake. It’s used in our chocolate decadence and mocha macadamia cakes.”

Vanessa was busy taking another drink of her water when Jax cut a small piece of the cake onto his fork. Instead of taking it himself, he turned it to her and waited expectantly. Her eyes flicked to the cake. Then up at him. Back to the cake.

Whether she was uncomfortable with acting like a couple in front of Robért or it was something else, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t back down. He hated that she’d shut him out. He missed seeing the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him. So if he had to force her to acknowledge him, then that’s what he’d do.

Finally, she leaned forward and took the offered cake as she held his gaze. Absolutely stunning. As she pulled back, he again watched as her lips dragged on the metal tines, and he swore the temperature in the room kicked up at least a dozen degrees. Holy hell.

“Mmm. That’s really good,” she said. “What kind of fillings would be used for this?”

“Ah!” Robért placed two of the small bowls next to the plate of cake. Pointing to the first bowl, he said, “The chocolate macadamia is filled with chocolate ganache, coffee buttercream, and crushed macadamia nut brittle. Very unordinary. And the chocolate decadence is paired with a classic combo of chocolate ganache and rich raspberry.”

This time she made sure she was on point with dipping her own spoon in the creamy ganache so Jax didn’t have the opportunity to feed her again. For posterity’s sake, he did the same and tasted the filling, but he couldn’t have told Robért if it tasted like coconuts or dirt. His focus was on Vanessa.

When she pulled her spoon out of her mouth, a bit of frosting remained on the corner of her lower lip. Reaching out, he used his thumb to clean it off. Again, she seemed to stop breathing for a second. But this time when their eyes met, the desire that had been pushed to the back now shined through.

It took everything Jax had to not tell Robért to pick the damn cake himself and haul her off to their room.

They tasted a few other combinations and ultimately decided on a light coconut cake with haupia coconut custard filling and Italian buttercream icing. Even if Jax hadn’t known Lucie had an affinity for coconut, he’d have known Vanessa made the choice based on Lucie’s likes and not her own. Based on subtle hints he’d picked up on, he was pretty sure that not only was the chocolate decadence her favorite, but that fruit with chocolate in general was something she enjoyed. He made a mental note.

“Thank you so much, Robért,” Vanessa said as she stood. “Please tell the chef they were all wonderful. I appreciate it very much.”

“It was our pleasure, believe me. Now go have some fun and I’ll see you soon!”

Jax rose as well, waited for their hug and double air-kiss to be over, shook Robért’s hand, then started to escort V out of the restaurant.

“Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot!” They turned around to see a distressed Robért following after them. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Vanessa gave Jax a concerned look. “What is it?”

“I heard from my friend this morning and he can’t cover the other wedding for me. Something about a last minute vow renewal he got roped into. I’m so sorry, can you forgive me? I wanted to be there so badly.”

Palpable relief relaxed Vanessa’s shoulders as she released a long exhale. Thankfully, to Robért it would just appear as disappointment. “Please don’t give it another thought, Robért. We completely understand, don’t we, Reid?”

Cue terrible acting. “Oh, yeah,” Jax added. “Completely. Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right?” Don’t ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean. It was all he could come up with on short notice.

The other two people in the conversation stared him blankly for a few seconds before simultaneously deciding to ignore him and move on with their emotional back and forth. Eventually they wrapped things up and they gave leaving another shot.

They’d no sooner hit the path outside when her cell rang. Sounded like a client, and based on her half of the conversation, she was gearing up for a long night of work.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he followed after her and smiled to himself. There was no way he’d let her ignore him the rest of the night. Time to formulate a plan.

…

Vanessa stared at the file in her lap and chewed on the end of her pen. It had been a bad habit growing up. All of her pens and pencils looked like rats had gnawed on them. Once she became an attorney, she’d managed to break herself of it. The last thing she wanted was for the opposing counsel to see her chewing on her writing utensils and thinking she was nervous or incompetent.

But here she was, a half hour into working, and the top of her pen looked like a beaver attacked it. Damn it.

The bathroom door opened. She discreetly peered up through her lashes…and then wished she hadn’t.

Jackson emerged, crossing the open bedroom doorway with nothing but a towel…that was currently drying his hair. Vanessa clenched her teeth to prevent her mouth from hanging open at the glistening, Olympian body he’d just paraded openly. She heard the sound of a dresser drawer opening, then closing, and then cursed herself for praying he’d dress in the bathroom.

Whistling the chorus from the p-ssycat Dolls’s “Don’t Cha,” he strode back into the bathroom carrying—thank you, baby Jesus—a pair of jersey shorts and a wifebeater.

As soon as the door closed, she groaned in frustration. She couldn’t concentrate with him around. He was a distraction and a nuisance. A really hot nuisance who almost never wore a shirt. How the hell was she supposed to focus with him strutting around half naked all the damn time like some Hawaiian god?

If he knew she’d been staring, he hadn’t shown it, but then again, what reason would he have to go back into the bathroom naked? The tramp probably knew she’d been watching the whole time.

She’d done her best to stay emotionally distanced from him since they left the gym. The fact that she’d been so upset over him attacking Danny didn’t sit well with her. To disapprove of how he handled something was one thing. But it was another thing entirely to feel like her insides were turning out at the possibility of him hiding violent tendencies. It should not have affected her that much.

Which could only mean one thing: she’d let herself get emotionally invested with one Jackson Maris.

Vanessa thought back to the cake tasting. Jackson had actually been tender with her. The softness of his lips on her hand made the room around her fade to black as she stared into the golden light of his eyes. When he fed her the cake from his fork, it seemed more intimate, more sensual, than the act warranted. And when he wiped the frosting from her lip, she’d wished he’d removed it with a kiss.

But how did she know he hadn’t been doing all of those things for Robért’s benefit? Even worse, what if his tenderness had truly been sincere? The former made her want to kick his ass. The latter made her want to kiss him until they both forgot to breathe. Which then made her want to kick her own ass for getting the least bit sentimental when it came to that man.

“I’m a hot mess,” she muttered to herself. And if there was one thing Vanessa Ann MacGregor hated, it was being a hot mess. On the outside or the inside. That’s why her Rules worked so well for her. It kept everything in her life the way she needed it to be.

So what are you going to do about it, Nessie?

There was only one thing she could think of to untangle herself. She had to avoid having sex with Jackson the rest of the week. Not that she’d tell him outright, of course. But women got out of having sex every day. They had headaches or cramps or they were too tired… She’d never used excuses before, but surely it couldn’t be that hard to convince a man you weren’t up for the occasion, so to speak.

Just then a knock sounded on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Jackson entered the room, giving her equal relief and disappointment, and answered the door. A few moments later he sat next to her on the couch and set a tray on the coffee table that held a bottle of Patron, two shot glasses, a saltshaker, and a bowl of lime wedges.

“What’s all that?” she asked with a point of her disfigured pen.

“Has it been so long since you’ve had fun that you forgot what it looks like?”

“For your information, I have fun all the time. I’ll have you know I’m Queen Fun back home. Ask your sister.”

“Instead of calling my poor sick sister to verify your story, why don’t you just put your money where your mouth is?”

“I have work to do, Jackson.”

“You’ve been working for the last several hours, including straight through dinner. It’s way past closing time, V,” he said, cracking open the bottle with a mischievous smile.

She tried to hold it back, but at least half of the smile crept on her face anyway.

He stopped and studied her. “What?” he asked.

“We’re about to find out if you pass the Bonus Rule.”

“Which is…”

“Never date a man who can’t out-drink you in tequila.”

He smiled widely and leaned in. “You’re going down, MacGregor.”

Vanessa quickly weighed the pros and cons of participating in what boiled down to a pissing match involving alcohol with the man she’d recently decided was off-limits. In the Pros column: a break from work, good tequila, and taking Mr. Arrogance down a peg or two by drinking him under the table. In the Cons column: strong probability of getting drunk, thereby skewing her good judgment, and Mr. Arrogance taking her downtown to Shag Town. And that would be bad.

On the other hand, it’d be drunken sex, and drunken sex was never about emotions or touchy-feely crap. It was crazy, awkward moves performed by inept, half-dressed individuals who ended up with bruises from falling into lamps and who almost never had anything more than a bare recollection of the night’s events. Therefore, even if worse came to worst, it still wouldn’t interfere with the new keep-her-distance rule. Perfect, she thought, smiling to herself.

Moving her files off to the side, Vanessa situated herself sideways on the couch to face her opponent. “We’ll see who goes down, Maris. Pour.”

Jackson uncorked the bottle, poured the tequila in the shot glasses, then picked one up and waited for her to do the same.

Without hesitation, she raised her glass, said, “Salut,” and tossed it back.

“No salt or lime chaser?”

“I don’t need that stuff, but don’t let that stop you. Some people can’t handle the bite of tequila. I promise I won’t judge.”

An evil grin curled the edges of his lips. “I didn’t order the extra stuff for me, princess.” After throwing the clear liquid down his throat, he added, “At least not for that.”

And with that cryptic statement hanging between them, Jackson took her glass and poured them each another round.

…

“What do you say we make things a little more interesting?”

Vanessa raised a brow as she poured them both their next shot. “That depends on what you mean by interesting.”

“A harmless get-to-know-you game.”

“A drinking game?” She actually looked excited about the prospect for a whole two seconds. Then she narrowed her eyes, nearly twining those long sable lashes. “Does it involve losing articles of clothing?”

He held up his right hand, “I swear the loser is not required to remove any of his or her clothing.” Said the spider to the fly.

Her shoulders relaxed and she leaned in slightly. “Okay, how do we play?”

“I’ll make a statement about myself. It can be true or completely fabricated. You then have to guess which and say ‘true’ or ‘bullshit.’ If you’re right, you get to pick a place on your body that I do a shot from. If you’re wrong, I get to pick the spot. Then we switch roles.”

Vanessa opened her mouth but nothing came out. She closed it. Tried again. Finally, she shook her head. “I’ve played a lot of drinking games in my day, but I’ve never heard of anything like this. Dare I ask what it’s called?”

Jax grinned. “Bullshit Body Shots. Reid and I made it up with our girlfriends in high school.”

“I have no doubt,” she said wryly.

“C’mon, V. You’re a lawyer, and according to you, a damn good one. You should be able to smell my bullshit from a mile away. Unless of course you’re not as good as you claim.”

Yeah, he was baiting her. Again. He seemed to be making it a habit with her. And even though she clearly recognized them for what they were, she couldn’t resist accepting his challenges. A trait he loved about her.

Finally, with a roll of her eyes, she said, “Go ahead and start.”

Game on. He’d start them off easy. “I was all-conference in wrestling my senior year in high school.”

“True. Your sister told me that forever ago.”

He figured as much, but he wanted her comfortable. And unsuspecting. “Where am I doing the shot?”

She made a show of thinking it over, then held out the inside of her wrist. He knew she’d go with somewhere safe. Or at least what she thought would be safe.

Grabbing the saltshaker in one hand and her wrist in the other, he kept eye contact with her as he brought his face slowly closer to his target. He licked a languid path across the soft skin, feeling her strong pulse speed up against his tongue. Vanessa’s pupils grew larger as he added a dash of salt, then licked it off in the same manner as before. He threw back his shot, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat.

When she tried to pull her hand back—most likely assuming that was the end of its use—he held firm. “Ah-ah-ah. I still need this.”

“For what?”

He didn’t answer her with words but took one of the lime wedges and lightly squeezed it—enough for several drops to land and stream over the edges of her wrist—and then finished the process with an open-mouthed kiss to suck off the remaining juice. Then he released her.

“That’s not…” Her voice broke slightly and she cleared her throat to try again. “That’s not how body shots are done.”

“They are in this game. Your turn, Viper.”

Reminding her of her tough-girl persona did the trick. She composed herself, donned her game face, and took her turn. “I grew up in a really shitty neighborhood in Queens, New York.”

“Bullshit. You don’t have the accent.”

“Wrong, and your assumption is the reason I worked to strip the accent out of me. I didn’t like that people could identify where I grew up and pass judgment on me simply for how I sounded.”

He wasn’t surprised to hear she’d actively worked to improve something about herself she saw as a fault. Vanessa seemed intent she and everything else in her life was above par. More than ever he suspected something in her past was what drove her to be so strict about how her future should be. The question was, what?

“Good for you, V, I think that’s great. It also means you get to choose where you’d like to do your shot.”

The thought of Vanessa licking him anywhere had his blood draining to a central area of his body. She indicated his neck and didn’t hesitate to go through the ritual. Every stroke of her tongue licked flames up the side of his throat, consuming him a little at a time. He swore he almost cracked his jaw from clenching it to keep from turning his head and attacking her mouth.

When she finished, he gave her a half smile that he hoped said, That was about as much of a turn-on as shopping for car insurance, but thanks for trying. The slight widening of her eyes revealed a hint of incredulity at his lack of reaction, but he played it off like he was oblivious. Oblivious. Yeah, right.

Jax felt more like he was wired to notice every minute detail about her. From the shape of her eyes to the freckle on the back of her left knee. From the way her green irises could throw sparks when pissed to languid pools when relaxed.

Oblivious was the last thing he was when it came to this woman. And for the life of him, he didn’t know why.

“Are we done or are you going to take another turn?” she asked.

He grinned. “Anxious to have my mouth on you again?”

“In your dreams, surfer boy.”

He dropped the joking manner and stared directly into her eyes. “Actually, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of my dreams. Lusting after you during my waking hours is about all I can handle right now.”

Her mouth opened as if to respond, but nothing came out. For a long moment they were silent, just stared at each other, until she lowered her gaze and tucked a side of her hair behind her ear. Finally, he broke the silence by taking his turn in the game.

“I’m deathly afraid of spiders. True or bullshit?”

She studied him carefully and then rendered her verdict. “Bullshit.”

“Wrong.”

“Really?”

“Reid and Lucie are the only people who know my weakness, so I expect you’ll take that intel to your grave, MacGregor.”

She made a production of crossing her heart and holding her right hand up. “I swear. I won’t tell anyone you’re afraid of itty-bitty bugs.”

The little wench thought his phobia was amusing, eh? He’d show her amusing.

“My turn to drink.” Grabbing the hem of her tank in his hands, he started lifting it up her stomach. He didn’t make it much past her belly button before she grabbed his wrists and held tight. He looked up at her with a questioning arch of his brow.

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be any removal of clothing.”

“No, I said the loser wouldn’t be required to remove any clothing. However, the winner can remove anything that gets in the way of him doing a shot in the location of his choosing.”

“Holy shit,” she said with wide eyes. “You lawyer loopholed me.”

He winked. “Don’t take it too hard. I took advantage of your arrogance.”

“My arrogance?”

“Settle down, princess.” Jax rotated his hands up, breaking free of her hold. “Your arrogance is one of the things I like most about you.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he laid a finger against her lips. “Shh. Rules are rules, after all.”

She slitted her eyes, but there was no hiding the humor dancing behind her lashes. Sure she wouldn’t argue anymore, he pulled her shirt over her head, discarding it somewhere on the floor behind him. A fancy black bra covered with sea green lace encased her breasts. They swelled over the tops of the cups that barely covered her nipples. It was quite possibly the most glorious piece of lingerie he’d ever seen.

“Sweet Jesus. Is that a matching set?” He zeroed in on her shorts, praying for X-ray vision.

“You’ll have to win another round to find out.” She gave him a satisfied smile. “Rules are rules, after all.”

“Touché,” he said, answering with a smile of his own. Too bad he was about to wipe that smirk right off her face.

Wrapping his hands around the sides of her ribs, Jax lifted her enough to set her back against the armrest of the couch. The look in her eyes told him she couldn’t decide if she wanted to chastise him for man-handling her or let go of her need to control and see where it led.

He shifted over, keeping one of her legs behind him and pulling the other over his lap, until his hip pressed against her. Placing a hand on the center of her chest, he lightly pushed until her body yielded, allowing her shoulders and head to rest over the cushioned arm with her long curls spilling over the edge.

Seeing Vanessa in a vulnerable position like this was enough to damn near shatter his resolve. She was in an unfamiliar role, offering herself up to him without knowing for certain what he had planned. Shallow breaths caused her breasts to rise and fall, tempting him to abandon the game, tear off her bra, and devour the soft mounds until his lips were numb. And that was just the beginning of what he had planned for her. All in good time.

Leaning over her, he licked a path along the top swell of her breast. The way her supple flesh gave way to the gentle pressure of his tongue made his balls tighten, and when she tipped her pelvis slightly, rubbing herself against his hip, his cock jumped in anticipation.

Jax knew if he didn’t finish the shot within the next few seconds, he’d lose all self-control. Salt, lick, shot, lime, and lick again. Having finished without giving in to his baser needs, he gave himself a mental pat on the back before supporting her head and lifting her back to a sitting position.

Her eyes weren’t quite as sharp as usual and she didn’t come back with a sarcastic remark. In fact, she wasn’t saying anything. Merely staring up at him, her lower lip creased in the center like she’d been biting down on it.

“Your turn,” he said, his voice rough.

Vanessa blinked hard, and he could almost see her coming back to herself. The dazed look was replaced with her cool, confident air. Clearing her throat, she gave a little toss of her hair and arched her brow at his still-close proximity. But he wasn’t letting her distance herself more than she already had.

“Problem, princess?”

“Of course not.” With a sly smile, she bent her front leg and tucked her foot between his legs. Jax clenched his jaw and forced himself not to react, even as lightning bolted from his balls all the way up his spine and back again. Instead, he casually held her leg against his chest as though he hadn’t a care in the world and listened as she took her turn.

“In college I got really drunk one night with my RA, and we ended up having the stereotypical and experimental girl-on-girl action. But it was just that once.”

“As much as I’d love the images floating around in my head right now to hold some truth, I’m going to say bullshit.”

She let out a noise that said she wasn’t happy with his answer. “What makes you think it’s a lie?”

He shrugged. “I probably would’ve believed it had you said it happened with my sister. It makes more sense because you’re best friends, and there’s that level of trust there. You’re too structured and in control to have drunken, spontaneous flings.”

The initial aggravation of losing seemed to dissipate under the interested arch of a single eyebrow. “You’ve been paying attention; I’m impressed. So where do you want to do it?”

His mind raced through a dozen possibilities—the couch, the kitchen table, the shower, the bathroom counter, the— Hold up. “Where do I want to do what?”

She gave him a saucy smile that said she was more than happy to rain on his fantasy parade. “Where do you want me to do my shot?”

“Ah.” Yanking his shirt over his head, he tossed it to the side, and holding her gaze, tapped the area between his pecs before stretching his arms along the back of the couch.

She paused for a moment and stared him down. She was thinking about something, willing her brain to fire on all cylinders despite the Patron in her blood mucking things up. He saw the determination in her eyes the moment she made up her mind. All that was left to do was wait for the verdict.

Reaching over, she gathered the necessary items, placing her shot glass in his left hand, the saltshaker in his right, and her wedge of lime between his teeth. Then, in one smooth motion she rose up to her knees on the couch and swung a leg over his hips like she was mounting a horse. He’d thought he had the upper hand, but as he stared into her fiery green eyes, stretched out beneath her, holding things she gave him, he felt more like a submissive.

And at the moment, he couldn’t give a good goddamn.

Pressing herself to him, she slowly sank down, rubbing the crotch of those thin cotton shorts of hers over the ridges of his abdomen until firmly seated over his stiff cock. The double layer of clothing did nothing to prevent the heat of her sex from searing him through the material. He bit back a groan and forced his hips to remain still. Not an easy task when his dick wanted to play Heat-Seeking Missile and the hottest thing for miles was in the deepest recess of a redheaded beauty, mere fractions of an inch away.

Placing her palms on either side of his chest, Vanessa leaned over and licked a slow, languid path between his pecs up to the hollow of his throat. The softest of moans escaped like a purr from a cat savoring the last drop of cream in her bowl.

She raised her head, giving him a wicked smile as she took the shaker from his hand. A dash of salt and she was at it again, the coarse grains scratching his flesh before sticking to her tongue. Jackson barely contained another moan. He didn’t want her knowing just how much she affected him. Not yet.

His recently freed hand abandoned the back of the couch for the supple curve of her ass. She didn’t bother trying to get him to take back the salt, instead reaching behind her to place it on the table.

A moment later she retrieved her shot. As soon as his hand was empty it filled itself in the same manner as the other, all ten fingers digging into her ass, pulling her down on his hard cock. To her credit, she remained in control, the only sign she’d felt anything at all was a small hitch in her breath. It was enough.

Lifting the small glass to her lips, she slowly tipped her head back, gradually displaying her graceful neck as the liquid emptied into her mouth. Once she’d placed the glass behind her, she plucked the lime from his mouth and squeezed it over the center of his chest. The cold, sticky juice streamed between his pecs, through the valley of his abs, and pooled in his naval briefly before spilling over and soaking into the waistband of his shorts.

Vanessa scooted off his lap before he had the chance to protest, but as soon as she knelt between his legs, he quickly forgave her the infraction. He held his breath, his heart pounding in his ears, as she lowered her head to lap the juice from his skin. She trailed her tongue up the line of dark hair, laved the recess of his belly button, and continued through the valley of his abs and between his pecs.

The higher she went, the closer her body pressed to his, her breasts caressing his balls and the length of his cock on their ascent. Unable to handle any more torture, he grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her the rest of the way until she once again straddled his lap.

The restraint he used to keep himself in check made his throat tight and his voice little more than a rasp. “You went rogue on me, babe. I pointed to my chest.”

She shrugged a slim shoulder. “Creative license. Do you object?”

“Not even a little.” He rocked his hips up once, making her gasp. “Did I taste good?”

“Like a margarita during happy hour after winning a long case.”

“Wow,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw up her neck as he spoke in her ear. “That does sound pretty good.”

“I should try another sample, though. To make sure the evidence is conclusive. But this time, I’ll choose the location.”

He wanted to tell her she could sample him as much as she liked. Hell, he’d even give her suggestions for where to start. But he wasn’t going to rush this. Not tonight. Not again. Just as she leaned in to kiss him, he stopped her with a finger to her chin and said, “Then you’ll have to win that right.”

Eyebrow cocked, she leaned back to study him as though expecting him to retract his dumbass statement at any moment. A part of him—namely the part that was hard enough to nail railroad spikes—waited for the same thing.

He ignored them both.

“My turn.” He pretended to be thinking of a statement, hoping she’d take it as him trying to think up a lie as opposed to thinking up a truth. “Got one. I lost my virginity to my high school girlfriend’s older sister when she was home from college.”

“A college girl slumming with her little sister’s boyfriend? No way. Bullshit.”

He couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin from plastering itself on his face. “Wrong.”

“What? Are you serious?”

Jax had to wonder if her incredulity was due to the truth of the statement or the fact that she was actually wrong. Probably a little of both. Or a lot of both.

He held his right hand up. “Swear to God. Junior year. I’d just started dating Aimee Anders. I showed up at her house that Saturday to hang out, but she was late in getting back from a volleyball tournament. Her older sister, Jean, a sophomore at UNLV, was home for the holidays and told me I could wait for Aimee with her. One minute we’re watching TV, the next minute Jean was on my lap tutoring me on the finer points of higher learning.”

“Unreal.” Vanessa shook her head and added, “You realize that makes you a total dog, right?”

“Technically, yes, but Aimee and I were only dating to make her ex jealous. We were strictly friends, which absolves me of any wrongdoing.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid the jury’s still out on that one, Mr. Maris.”

Without warning, Jax grabbed her and tossed her on her back. Her wild hair spread out around her head and the smile she gave him was as bright as the full moon on a clear night. He pinned her down with his weight, pressing his hard length against her sex. She gasped and arched into him instinctively. He forced himself to hold still, despite his body’s insistence he roll his hips over her to find release in whatever manner possible.

“My turn again.”

“And where, pray tell, do you plan on doing it this time?”

“Talk is cheap, Counselor. I’m a man of action.” He captured her wrists and placed them above her head on the arm of the couch. “Be good and keep those there for me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Move ’em and find out.” He nipped her earlobe, then whispered, “I’m kind of hoping you do.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he rose up to his knees, tucked his fingers into the elastic waistband of her shorts, and pulled them down. As he drew them over her hips, his mouth dried up and his eyes glued to her panties. Tossing the shorts over his shoulder, he studied the small triangle of sea green lace over black satin until he knew he could draw every detail from memory if needed. Only then did he allow himself to look at her body in its entirety.

“So damn gorgeous.”

He planted his hands on either side of her hips and slowly lowered himself. He hovered over the juncture where thigh met pelvis, keeping her bound with anticipation. Her eyes transfixed to his mouth and the rise and fall of her chest became faster and faster. The black of her pupils swallowed the green of her irises, her front teeth captured her lower lip…and still he held. She wanted his mouth on her just as badly as he did. But he wasn’t moving another millimeter until she asked.

Later, he’d make her beg.

Seconds ticked by, the pair of them locked in an unspoken match of wills. He felt the heat coming off her and he smelled her arousal. Finally, she succumbed to the need and rolled her hips up.

Good girl.

He gladly licked the line all the way up to her hipbone. A little salt and he was at it again, this time adding pressure and causing her to whimper, her body to shudder.

He took his shot, not even pausing to register the burn before squeezing a lime wedge along the lace edge of her panties. Not one to waste anything, he quickly dipped down and licked the stream that had spilled over between her legs. She moaned in the back of her throat as he moved to kiss off the liquid that had pooled at the top.

“Enough,” he growled as he moved up her body. “No more games. I’m taking what I want. What we both want.”

…

Vanessa could already tell her earlier thought process had been way off the mark. Drunken sex with Jackson Maris wasn’t going to be any less intense than sober sex. Probably because neither of them was drunk. Buzzed, yes. Wasted…not even a little.

It didn’t matter that they’d both just had enough shots to put most people on their asses. She should’ve guessed a man like Jax wouldn’t have suggested something he couldn’t win. The man could seriously hold his liquor, and it just so happened tequila was the only thing she could drink her weight in and still be coherent. Had he picked something else, she’d have passed out a half hour ago in an unattractive heap after making a total ass of herself.

But instead, she’d played a game with a dragon and ended up pinned beneath his massive body as he prepared to breathe fire. Golden eyes framed in dark lashes held her captive. With the instinct of a moth, she cupped his face and kissed his lips, sacrificing her better judgment to the hypnotizing flames.

Jackson accepted her kiss, then pushed her back into the cushion as he took over. His tongue was a sweet invasion, exploring and tasting between nibbles on her lips that made her feel like the most delectable of desserts.

Slipping one arm under her head, he snaked his other hand behind her back. With the flick of his fingers, he released her bra and tore it from her. Her breasts, which had always been very sensitive, felt heavy and full and charged with electricity. The moment his bare chest pressed into hers, her nipples tightened painfully, pleading for the attention they’d been denied the night before.

As though reading her mind, he broke the kiss and plumped her right breast with his large hand. His calluses dragged over her skin, causing delicious vibrations that had her arching farther into his palm. She never knew a man’s hands could create such sensations. She’d always dated white-collar men. Not because she preferred them, but because those were the men in her circle. Their hands were smooth and unremarkable. Not like Jackson’s. If she had any musical talent whatsoever, she’d write an entire album dedicated to the man’s hands alone.

She peered down to see one of the most erotic sights. The top of his head hovered over her chest, his dark hair slightly mussed. All his attention focused on the breast he held. He swiped the rough pad of his thumb over her distended bud, sending the white-hot electricity on a one-way trip to her core. Her breath hissed through her teeth as the shock took hold in its new home.

He looked up, a knowing glint in his gaze as he slowly lowered his head and enveloped her nipple in the glorious heat of his mouth. She cried out and fisted her fingers into his short hair so hard she knew it had to hurt, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his pupils dilated and he opened wide to take as much of her into his mouth as he could. His tongue swirled and flicked on the inside, building frissons of pleasure that exploded when he scraped his teeth over the hard tip.

Needing the same attention for her other breast, she held it in offering with one hand while trying to push his head over. He did release the one he’d worked over, leaving it cherry red and glistening wet, but didn’t follow her lead as she’d hoped. Instead, he paused just before descending on her aching breast, then switched directions and kissed his way down her body.

She groaned, both frustrated and aggravated he’d ignored what she wanted to follow his own agenda. Once he moved low enough where she was no longer pinned by his body, she scooted up to a sitting position. The surprise on his face was only there for a split second, but it was enough to calm the slight need to jump out of her skin.

She pushed him back into a sitting position and straddled his lap, grinding herself on the erection straining under his shorts. Now it was his turn to groan as his head dropped to the back of the couch. Unable to resist, she licked up the column of his throat and sucked on the spot just behind his ear. His fingers burrowed beneath her panties and dug into the flesh of her ass. Returning the favor, he brought his mouth to her neck and trailed wet kisses up to her jaw. But she wanted more.

Leaning back, she again palmed her left breast. “Kiss me here,” she said.

He circled two of his fingers around her nipple, making it pull tighter as the pent-up tingling followed the path of his touch and made her needier with each passing second. He made sure to stay at the edges of her areola, teasing her mercilessly. She clenched her jaw and held still, telling herself the torture would be worth it when he finally gave her the release.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“God, yes, now.”

When she thought she couldn’t take it another moment, he stopped, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Ask me nicely.”

Record scratch. “What?”

“You heard me.” He dragged the rough pads of his fingers over the under swell, igniting every nerve ending in the vicinity. “Ask me nicely to suck on your beautiful breast.”

His demand rankled. A lot. “You want me to beg. I don’t beg anyone for anything.”

He cocked his eyebrow, the jagged scar raising its own doubt in her direction. “I believe you agreed to give me control during sex.”

A bolt of panic sent the hairs on the back of her neck up. “That doesn’t mean I’ll beg for what I want.”

“Is that so?”

She lifted her chin and tried to ignore the screaming needs of her body. She’d walk away from him and spend the night with a battery-operated substitute if she had to.

“Yes, that’s so.”

“Challenge accepted.”

“What—”

Before she had time to register anything, he picked her up, spun around, and deposited her on the couch where he’d sat moments before. Kneeling on the floor between her legs, he pulled her hips forward to the edge of the cushion. Too shocked to do anything else, she watched as his hands pushed her knees out as far as they’d go before sliding up the inside of her thighs.

When his thumbs grazed the edges of her panties they slid over the silk, one pressing over the sensitive spot at the top, the other sliding over the path already wet with desire. Up and down, up and down his thumb stroked, each time adding a little more pressure.

Her sex pulsed with the need to be filled, aching from denial. When at last he pulled her panties off, she released a shaky exhale and tried to control herself. He was trying to get her to crack, but if the state of his cock was any indication, he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. She just had to ride it out and wait for the typical male screw it reaction. No pun intended.

“Starfish, huh?”

She glanced down at the coral-colored tattoo the size of a quarter that could only be seen if she was fully naked. Most of the time she forgot it was even there. “Sea star.”

“Whatever.”

“Not whate—”

“Hey, Red, lecture me later, okay? Right now I need to look at you.” He laid his hands over her breasts and trailed them down her body slowly until he reached the smooth skin of her mound.

“Christ, V, you’re gorgeous.” Pulling her swollen folds apart, he stared like under a spell. Butterflies took wing in her belly, and she felt new wetness where he pierced her with his eyes. “Pretty in pink,” he whispered, using a finger to spread the warmth over her outer lips.

Finally, he licked a wide path from bottom to top, adding a flick of his tongue over her * that had her hips rocketing off the cushion. Jax wrapped his arms under her thighs and brought his hands around at the juncture of her pelvis to hold her down. Then he dove in to perform the most illicit acts with his tongue ever attempted by any human. That was probably conjecture on her part, but it sure as hell felt like fact.

He was not a man who did anything without intent, and oral sex was no exception. There were no random patterns or juvenile ideas of tracing out the alphabet. Every lick, every flick, every thrust of his tongue had a purpose more lascivious than the last.

Her hands gravitated to her breasts, heavy and tight, and she plucked her nipples, adding pangs of pleasure that shot back and forth as he continued to make love to her with his mouth. Her hips tried to rock against him, but he easily pinned her with his strength. Whimpers escaped her lips, blood roared in her ears as her pulse skyrocketed out of control, and her breaths came fast and hard.

There was no denying it any longer. Jackson Maris was pure evil.

As though supporting her argument, he inserted two thick fingers and started thrusting as he focused his tongue on her *. Sweat trickled between her breasts. The storm of desire deep in her center swirled faster and faster, threatening to explode in a thunderous clap.

He actually looked like he did this for his pleasure, not hers. When he used his fingers to explore and tease, his eyes never strayed, as though her sex was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And when he closed his mouth over her, his lids drifted shut like the world’s richest chocolate truffle was melting on his tongue. On top of the dizzying sensations he gave her, watching him was almost enough to make her come.

“Oh yes,” she moaned. “I’m so close.”

“I know, baby.”

“Make me come.”

He slowed his movements, bringing her down a level. The exact opposite of what she wanted. She groaned in frustration.

“You don’t get to call the shots, princess. You need to ask me nicely.”

Vanessa sucked her lower lip between her teeth and clamped down. Her body vibrated, both from the frenzy he’d whipped inside her and resisting what he demanded of her.

“Understand, Vanessa, that I never take my release before my lover. However,” he continued, his gaze boring into her, “I also have the resolve to keep you on the edge like this for hours. It won’t matter how blue my balls get or how badly I want to feel your p-ssy squeezing my cock. I won’t give in until you give me what I want.”

Shivers raced over her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, despite the sheen of sweat proving she was anything but cold.

“Now,” he rasped as he dragged the pad of his thumb in circles around her *, “I want you to ask me for what you want. Ask me to let you come, V.”

His words coated her like honey as hers coated his fingers. No lover had ever spoken to her like that. It was hard to believe he could talk like that. Normally he was all charm and killer smile.

This side of Jackson was the complete opposite. His tone brooked no arguments, and there wasn’t anything about the way he looked that led her to believe he was joking. On the contrary, she knew he meant every word.

And it turned her on. Way more than it should.

He flicked her * with his thumb and she almost blacked out. Could you die from orgasm deprivation? She’d bet the answer was yes, but she had no desire to find out.

“Please, Jackson,” she said, not only pleading with her words but in the way her back arched toward the ceiling and her fingers dug into her breasts. “Please let me come.”

The muscles in his jaw leaped with a slight flare of his nostrils. “My pleasure.”

An instant later he filled her up with three fingers, turning them up to stroke the sinful spot at the top with every retreat. The pleasure flared deep in her center. He’d kept her primed so long it took less than thirty seconds before she crested the swell. Her breaths turned to pants, her hands clawed at his strong shoulders, needing to ground herself as her body threatened to fly apart.

Her eyes had squeezed shut and she couldn’t hear much over her own sounds, but she thought she heard him growl a “f*cking beautiful” right before placing his mouth on her * and sucking it in pulses that finally and blessedly gave her sweet release.

Jackson kissed his way up her body. With each sensual touch of his lips, she came back to herself a little more. By the time he reached her neck, she was fully aware again and somehow just as hungry for him as when they started.

Grabbing him by his head, she brought his mouth up and lifted her head to attack it. He met her urgency, moaning as she boldly licked his lips then bit down on the plump center. They fused together in a molten kiss, their tongues warring against each other. She tasted her sweet tang and the reminder of how her essence came to be there released another wave of warmth between her legs.

Jackson started to pull away from her, but she followed him, not wanting to release him from the kiss. He smiled against her lips, obviously enjoying her desperation to keep their connection. It should’ve tripped her defenses, prompting her to wrap herself in indifference and show him just how unaffected she was. But it didn’t. He’d triggered something in her, uncovered a hunger she hadn’t known she had. And now she no longer cared if he knew just how much she wanted him.

Once she sat all the way up, he held her shoulders to prevent her from following him as he stood. She looked up at him, mesmerized by his dominating presence and his sculpted physique. Being a fighter definitely gave him muscles she wasn’t used to from the businessmen she usually dated.

He took out a condom from his back pocket and tossed it carelessly next to her on the couch. “Take my shorts off, V,” he ordered gruffly.

She’d do as he said and take them off. But he hadn’t specified how to take them off. Vanessa schooled her features to hold back the smirk that itched to flaunt her thoughts, then she placed her hands on his pecs. Moving them down his body, she reveled in the way her fingers undulated over the ripples of his abs and the deep V of his obliques slashing to the center of his body and her ultimate destination.

He arched his scarred eyebrow as she skirted her hands past the elastic of his shorts. No doubt he’d expected her to catch the waistband and do as he’d instructed. And she would. Eventually.

They continued down either side of his straining cock, her thumbs just barely brushing the sides. He sucked a sharp inhale through his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. It hadn’t been a huge reaction, but even that little bit of control gave her a heady rush. He hadn’t stopped her yet, but she could see the warning on the tip of his tongue.

Using her teeth, she pulled his shorts down a couple inches on both sides, then pulled the center out and down, dragging the material over his erection and causing a delicious moan to escape his chest. Once they fell to the floor and he kicked them to the side, she was left staring eye-level at an impressive display of virility.

Their quick yet explosive session the night before had been all about feeling, not seeing. But now she looked her fill. She’d known by the feel of him that he wasn’t a small man in any sense of the word, but she was surprised at just how not small he was. As she touched him, she discreetly gauged his size with her fingers. From root to tip, he spanned the length of her thumb and forefinger, and when she gripped him, her fingers barely touched. Well, hello there, big boy.

“I fit once already, V. I can do it again.”

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts, his comment startled her. Glancing up at him, she huffed, “I know that.”

He slid one of his hands into the hair at her nape and gave her a crooked and way-too-knowing smile. “Just wanted to make sure. You looked like maybe you were worried.”

This man saw way too much with her. Good thing she knew how to distract him. Starting at the base, she kept her tongue loose so it hugged the underside of his cock and licked a slow, wet path all the way to the smooth cap at the top. His fingers contracted, fisting her hair, and his hips bucked.

She smiled, letting her satisfaction show on her face. “I may be smaller than you, but I can take anything you give me.”

“I’m so holding you to that.”

He let loose an animalistic growl, picked her up, and switched their positions so she once again straddled him on the couch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, obliterating the space between them. Following suit, Jackson’s arms banded around her waist as he finally latched onto the breast that had started the whole series of events.

The feel of him drawing her deep into his mouth sent showers of sparks riding her skin and heating her blood. Her body bowed, her head dropping back until the ends of her hair tickled the base of her spine. He leaned over, their bodies melding from hips to ribs as he worshipped both of her breasts with his lips, his tongue, his teeth.

Unable to hold back any longer, she rocked her pelvis to cradle his cock between the slick folds of her sex. He groaned. She moaned. And they both reached for the condom next to them at the same time.

“Reading my mind, V?”

“I doubt it’s your mind I’m reading, Maris,” she said, scooting back a few inches.

“Probably right about that.”

He tore the wrapper, but she took the latex ring from him before he had a chance to do anything. Despite her body’s urges, she moved slowly, using both hands to encircle his thick shaft and roll it down to the base. Jackson sucked in a breath when she let her thumbs graze his tight sac underneath.

Then he loosed his caged beast.

Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as he lifted her up and positioned the head of his cock at her swollen entrance. Between her tightness from already climaxing and his sheer size, Vanessa had a split second of panic that he’d never fit.

“Yes, I will,” he rasped. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m burying myself in this sweet p-ssy.” Oh, God, had she said that aloud? “Ease yourself down, baby. You can take me.”

Jax reached between them and rubbed over her *. She gasped as more wetness trailed down the inside of her thighs. It didn’t matter if she believed him or not anymore. There was no way anything could take the place of holding him inside her. She needed it like she needed air. He’d been right the night before when he said no vibrator would ever be able to pleasure her more than him. Hell, she had a suspicion no other man would be able to, either. But for her sanity’s sake, she couldn’t let herself go down that road. Not now. Not ever.

She spread her knees a little at a time, slowly impaling herself. Down a couple of inches, then back up. Down an inch or so more, then back up. As he stretched her more and more, her insides tightened and her breaths shortened. Finally, she grabbed onto his shoulders for purchase and took him in to the hilt.

Pressing his forehead to her sternum he ground out, “Ah, f*ck. Hold still, baby. Gimme a sec.”

But holding still was the very last thing she wanted. She wanted to move. Needed to move. So she did.

Vanessa circled her hips once before pushing up, almost completely unseating herself. Jax made a sound like he’d just gotten kicked in the gut. His eyes snapped up to warn her. A warning she couldn’t heed.

She began to move, up and down, back and forth, combinations of the four that she wasn’t even sure were legit moves, but they felt so good with him she let instinct take over.

Suddenly, she heard a loud smack! a split second before she felt the sting on her left ass cheek. She gasped over a squeal and jerked up hard from the shock. But he’d apparently been ready for that and held her in place to prevent an escape.

“What in holy hell was that for?” she demanded, leaning back all of the three inches he allowed her and trying to ignore how the pain melted into a warm heat between her legs.

“What, that?” A wicked gleam appeared in his eye as his hand now rubbed the sore area in a soothing manner. “That was the first of several punishments I owe you, princess.”

She thought back to the several instances he’d warned her of punishments. Shit, how many were there? She couldn’t remember. But she’d bet her lingerie collection he remembered every one of them in detail. What she did remember was that her mouth, or sarcastic comments, had always been the trigger. Which was why she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she wasn’t careful to temper the sarcastic tone in her response.

“So what, now you want to break out the whips and floggers, is that it?”

His hands roved over her back, her sides, her breasts. The roughness of his fingers and palms ignited her skin and reminded her body of where they left off seconds ago. As if it needed reminding.

“No, I’m not into the hardcore stuff. Besides,” he said with a quick nip on her clavicle. “All I need to make your ass red and your p-ssy wet are my voice and my hands.”

And with that she received a crack on the other side, causing an identical reaction to the first.

Vanessa mentally counted to ten while her insides stopped vibrating, then prayed her voice didn’t sound just as shaky. “I don’t like it.”

She lied.

He licked the shell of her ear. “You lie.”

She did.

“Now move, V,” he ordered with a squeeze of his hands. “Ride me and I’ll show you just how good a punishment can feel.”

With a shudder racing down her spine, she let her lids drift shut and she began to move once again. Her mind dulled, her conscious thoughts fading fast in the wake of her body’s more potent visceral demands.

Vanessa had never felt so torn during sex before. Jackson made her feel lost and found all at once. Lost to the intense desire he incited within her. Found, as though there was no other place she belonged more than in his arms. And both feelings scared the ever-loving hell out of her.

It would be so easy to ignore the facts and blame it on the alcohol. But even with the booze-induced carnage surrounding them as evidence, she couldn’t make that argument stick. No, this…whatever it was, made no sense on any logical plane of existence. It just wasn’t possible to have such strong, passionate feelings for a man she barely even liked. A man who made her want to throttle him as soon as kiss him.

Kiss him. Excellent idea.

Grabbing the sides of his face, she attacked his mouth, plunging her tongue past his lips to lick and twirl and drink in the taste of salt, lime, and Patron. This was a true body shot, and one for which she’d gladly suffer any mental hangovers she might incur.

He met her urgency ounce for ounce and then poured a hell of a lot more on for good measure. The kiss became a devouring. Their hands groped and clawed and tugged. It was fast and hard and utterly amazing. The tingling vibrations gathered in her center, pulsing their way up in quick succession like her climax was gasping for breath.

Somewhere in the physical din, she knew Jax continued to slap her ass every ten seconds or so, but she couldn’t separate the sensual stings from the rest of the pleasure coursing through her. Every taste, every touch had woven together to create one exquisite sensation.

“F*ck, you feel so good on my cock, baby.” Jax let his head fall back on the couch. The tendons in his neck stood out and the muscles jumped above his jaw. “So. F*cking. Good.”

She wanted to let him know how amazing it felt to be stretched and filled by him, but words failed her. All she could do was ride the massive wave hurtling her toward her release merely seconds away…

“V.”

What? Great. Now her voice had failed her, too.

“Vanessa,” he said, this time with a little more force. “I’m not giving you permission to come yet.”

The blurred edges of her vision came into sharp relief as her eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious.

“Prove to me how strong you are,” he continued as he plunged his fingers into her hair and held her face close to his. “Not by taking what you want, but by holding yourself back from the very thing you want the most.”

Her movements had decreased to shallow pulses, leaving the majority of her empty and aching. She swallowed hard, trying to create moisture where a desert had taken up residence. “Jax, please…”

“I’m not asking you to beg this time, baby.” His thumb caressed the edge of her lower lip. “You’re in the position to do what you want; I won’t stop you. But I want you to feel what it’s like to own your submission. To choose it.”

“And if I don’t?”

Disappointment flashed in his hazelnut eyes, and then it was gone as though it never was. In a firm tone he answered, “Then I’ll take back my condition from last night. We’ll finish out our fling without the control stipulation.”

Clever man. Before, she’d told herself she agreed to his condition because she wanted the fling, even knowing it was merely a convenient veil to hide her taboo curiosity behind.

But now he’d given her the option to choose how they proceeded from this point on, forcing her to admit her desire to submit to his will…or choke on her pride and miss the opportunity to explore a side of her she’d never known existed until him.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He gripped her hips hard, his fingers sinking into the meat of her ass, and held her still. “Okay what, Vanessa? What does that mean?”

Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands behind her back. She wasn’t sure what protocol was in this situation, but it seemed like the right gesture to support her words. “I want to give myself”—she dropped her gaze to his chest, the deference seeming both a betrayal to herself as well as an awakening—“and my orgasms over to you.”

A quiet growl rippled from his chest and over hers, puckering her nipples. He must have noticed, too, because he brought his hands up to cup her curves and swipe his thumbs over the sensitive nubs, causing her to jolt.

“I can’t lie, V. Those were the sexiest words I’ve ever heard. And the way you look right now—hands behind your back, pressing these beautiful breasts toward me, lips red and swollen, eyes downcast and ready for instruction.” He gave her nipples a light pinch, causing her to jerk from the bolt of sheer pleasure. “It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. You just might be my undoing.”

Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he thrust up in one smooth motion, burying himself balls deep before ordering her to finish what she’d started. She wasted no time, easily finding her rhythm and the angle that allowed him to hit that glorious spot inside. When her hands came up to his arms, he circled her wrists and held them behind her again as she rode him to the edge of her climax.

“Jax?” she whimpered.

“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.”

“Well, they’re not stars, either.” He immediately wanted to smack himself upside the head. He was making light of something that obviously held meaning for her. He wouldn’t like it if she made fun of him for inking his body with flowers.

To his surprise, though, she let out a short giggle and a, “Touché,” yet again keeping him on his toes. Every time he thought he knew what to expect, she proved him wrong. He liked that.

“So what’s the story?” he asked.

“Why does there have to be one?”

“Every tattoo has a story. Even if it’s, ‘I got bored, walked into a parlor, and pointed at the first pretty thing I saw.’”

She didn’t respond for five back and forths of the hammock. He figured it was another topic not up for discussion.

“In high school, we had a unit on ocean life in science. The teacher talked about all different types of sea creatures. So many of them had features that were truly remarkable, but when she got to the sea stars I became fascinated with them.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re small with soft, vulnerable underbellies, so the tops are tough with tiny spines that protect them from predators. And if that isn’t enough, they’re able to drop one of their arms—literally leave a piece of them behind—so they can escape. It takes a long time, but eventually they grow a new arm to replace the one they lost.”

She’d only listed facts. No different than reading a paragraph out of a National Geographic article. And yet, it wasn’t hard for him to read between the lines. “You relate to them.”

Jax felt her tense briefly, and then relax herself piece by piece, like it was an exercise she practiced often. “Yes,” she answered. “I do.”

He thought as much. Her admission was a crack in her resolve to push him away. But he didn’t want a hairline fissure. He wanted her to open to him completely. To trust him with her secrets so that maybe she could unload some of them and feel a little lighter for doing so.

Who the f*ck are you kidding? You’re the pot to her kettle.

Taking a deep breath, Jax said something he’d sworn to himself he’d never say to anyone for as long as he lived.

“I was adopted. It’s the reason I moved here—to find my birth parents. It took several years, but eventually I learned that my birth mother got pregnant by a man staying on the island for business for several months. He left somewhere in her third trimester and never came back. So she gave me up for adoption. I found out she died from some sort of infection the year before I came here.”

“Jackson, I’m so sorry. Lucie never told me.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know. No one does.”

Her head angled up so she could look at him, but he didn’t meet her eyes. He couldn’t. A deafening silence surrounded them. Even the waves seemed to pause and the palms above them no longer swayed as Vanessa processed the fact that his own sister didn’t know the most vital piece of information about him. The sound of his heart beat in his ears, its tempo increasing the longer she failed to respond in some way.

“I don’t understand. Why would your parents have kept it a secret from her?”

“They kept it a secret from both of us. I didn’t find out until after the accident when I found the adoption paperwork.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “Of course, how I didn’t come to the conclusion on my own I’ll never know. Physically speaking, I’m nothing like them and Lucie.”

Her brow furrowed. “After all these years, why haven’t you told Lucie?”

“In the beginning, I didn’t want to add more to the pile of crap she already had to deal with. She’d just lost both of her parents at a crucial age and wound up being raised by her barely legal older brother. Saying, ‘Oh by the way, I’m not really your brother,’ didn’t feel right. I mean, I couldn’t even wrap my head around it, so how could I expect her to?”

“But it’s been more than fifteen years since your parents died, so why not tell her later?”

Jax scrubbed his free hand over his face and then shoved it under his head as he let out a heavy exhale. “I don’t know. Every time I thought about telling her I just…couldn’t.”

His throat closed up and the stars began to blur. Swallowing hard to get past the lump, he blinked a few times until the world came back into focus. He hated talking about this. Hated how weak it made him sound. But he couldn’t expect Vanessa to let him in if he stayed locked down like Fort Knox. So he sucked it up and continued to verbalize the things that until now had only lived in his head.

“I guess I felt like I’d already lost my status as a son to my parents. Lucie’s all I’ve got left in the world. She means everything to me. I couldn’t handle it if she didn’t think of me as her brother anymore.”

“Jackson, look at me.” When he didn’t move, she palmed the side of his face and coaxed him to turn his head. “Lucie would never in a million years look at you any differently than she always has. As her big brother who took care of, protected, and loved her with all his heart. That’s who you are to Lucie, no matter what your DNA says.”

His knee-jerk reaction was to argue with her—or at least agree to disagree—but the conviction of her statement stared back at him from the depths of her eyes. So instead he dipped his head and captured her lips for a kiss meant as a thank-you and a punctuation mark on the topic. He didn’t regret opening up to her, but now he needed some time to let the open wound scab over.

Vanessa settled back into his side, tucking her head between his neck and shoulder again. The hammock was close enough to their privacy fence that he could reach it with his fingers, so he gave them a tiny push, closed his eyes, and tried not to think about what he’d just revealed about himself to a woman he barely knew.

He didn’t know how long they lay like that, but he guessed it was long enough for her to fall asleep. She hadn’t moved and her breaths were even. So he was lucky he didn’t accidentally flip them over when she spoke unexpectedly.

“NCIS.”

Jax gave his heart a minute to regulate and made a mental note to spank her later for nearly causing him to go into arrest. “What’s NCIS?”

“It’s one of those crime dramas on TV. You know, like CSI, but it’s based on the Navy unit.”

“Oh, right. What about it?”

“That’s where I came up with the idea for my rules.”

His eyes flew open, but he didn’t move a muscle. Now she had his attention. The question was, how much would she open up to him? He genuinely wanted to know what made her tick. Why she was so caught up in her rules that she refused to even bend on them most times. Not wanting to push the issue, he remained quiet and waited for her to reveal more.

“See, the main character’s wife had these rules that she liked to use. He thought it was cute and endearing. But then she was killed, along with their only daughter, and he became a tortured individual who carried on her rules and then added to them over the years. By the time the show starts, he already has some forty plus that he teaches his agents as life lessons.”

“So you saw the show and liked the idea so much that you made up your own?” He might not know her very well, but what little he did know of her didn’t match up with such an impulsive act. “No offense, V, but that seems a little extreme.”

“Yeah, well, when you’ve had an entire bottle of tequila by yourself after having a particularly shitty conversation with your mother, lots of extreme things tend to sound surprisingly normal.”

Very carefully, Jax situated himself in the hammock on his side so he could look into her eyes as they talked. With her head resting on the inside of his bicep and their bodies naturally falling into the middle, they were as close as they could get without removing the sheet covering her from breasts to hips.

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and let it glide through his fingertips. “From what I understand, every girl goes through a time in her life when she butts heads with her mom.”

Her bitter laugh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and the tone in her voice was flat with a knife’s edge. She stared straight ahead at his chest, but he knew she saw something else. Something in her past. “I would’ve given anything to have the stereotypical misunderstandings and petty fights over what I had.”

Initially, it’d been simple curiosity about what made her tick that prompted his questions. Then it turned into a challenge because she refused to tell him and made him agree to ridiculous stipulations. Later, the incident at the gym left him unsettled about the reason she reacted so strongly to him punching a guy who deserved it. But now something that felt a lot like the need to protect spread through his chest.

The warning bell sounded in his head. It was the bell that told him he was about to end the playful wrestling session he’d been having with Vanessa and step into the cage with her demons.

He always listened to that bell.

It warned him when things were about to get too serious. When there was a chance he was walking into a situation he had no chance of winning. And right now it told him if he went any further, there was a damn good chance he’d get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He always listened to that bell.

Jackson used his finger under her chin to angle her face up to his, then waited patiently for her to meet his gaze. Looking into her haunted green depths, he decided the bell could go f*ck itself.

“Tell me.”

…

His eyes were in shadow, yet she knew their intensity matched that of his command. A command that reached into her very core and knocked on the walls she’d constructed around her past. Was she really considering letting him in? A virtual stranger?

“Hey.” Jackson’s fingers trailed a soft path over her cheek before tunneling into her hair just enough to give his thumb the freedom to continue a back-and-forth caress on the side of her face. “It’s okay. Nothing you tell me leaves this hammock. I swear it.”

People had said similar things to her before, but their words had rung hollow in her ears, whether they’d meant them or not. She’d learned at a young age that just because people made promises didn’t mean they would keep them.

But Jackson’s declaration was different. He said it with such strength and sincerity. It was then Vanessa realized he was no stranger. Despite only knowing him for three days, she felt she truly knew him. Not in the sense of knowing all his habits and favorite things. But more in the sense of knowing who he was as a person. Without a doubt she knew he was loyal and honorable. And no matter if they ended up despising each other tomorrow, he would never repeat anything she told him tonight.

Focusing on the hollow of his throat, she took a shaky breath and a leap of faith.

“My biological father left when I was six and my sister, Kat, was barely three. I don’t remember him, and my mother never talked about him other than to bitch about the debt he left us in. She worked three different waitressing jobs to try and keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. But she wasn’t a robot, and it was only a few months before the stress and lack of sleep started to really get to her. That’s when one of the girls she worked with introduced her to coke.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. It kept her awake and gave her tons of energy, but it also gave her an addiction, and sometimes scoring another bag took precedence over that week’s groceries.

“By the time I was eight she’d abandoned the workforce for a lucrative career as a stay-at-home prostitute for her dealer. So instead of her having to worry about a babysitter, all her Johns came to our apartment at all hours of the day and night. I can remember Kat and me playing with our toys on the living room floor as they snorted their lines before taking care of business in her bedroom.”

“Damn. That had to have been a nightmare for you and your sister.”

“No, not really. Those were the times when things were still fairly decent. I mean, even though my mom was drugged-out more often than not, she was still pretty conscientious of her kids. For the most part, she wasn’t too bad at taking care of the essentials, and she never let any of her clients go anywhere near us. But then she married Carl.”

“Who’s Carl?”

“Originally he was one of my mom’s regulars. For years he tried talking her into leaving her dealer-pimp for him, but since he wasn’t much better off than we were, my mom couldn’t justify it. Then his grandmother died and left him her house and a ton of money. Needless to say, the next time he made the proposal, my mom had a change of heart.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“So what happened after you moved in with him?”

She shrugged her shoulder, not knowing how to put her past into words that wouldn’t cause him to look on her with pity. “On the plus side, my mom stopped hooking. But the longer we lived with Carl, the more controlling he became. And when he drank—which was more often than not—he liked using his fist if he thought anyone even looked at him wrong. I did my best to keep Kat out of their way. It wasn’t often, but if Carl set his sights on her, I’d provoke him so I got the brunt of it. I made sure we got to school, stayed on her to get good grades, and signed us up for any activities that kept us out of the house as much as possible.”

“Sounds to me like your sister was extremely lucky you were there for her.”

“But I wasn’t. Not always.” Vanessa swallowed, trying to prevent her throat from closing up. “My senior year, Carl was arrested for possession of cocaine. He had some priors so they sentenced him for six years. We were finally safe. That was a good eight months. Kat even started coming out of her shell more.”

She wished that were the end of the story. For her and her sister, that was as close to Happily Ever After as they could get. But that wasn’t the end. And there was nothing happy about any of it.

A thin veil of tears filled her eyes until it spilled over, one trailing across her temple and the other falling off the bridge of her nose. Jackson pulled her in a little more and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The firm strokes of his hand on her back soothed her enough to continue.

“Second semester I received a letter that I’d gotten a scholarship. Originally, I hadn’t planned on going to college. I don’t even know why I applied. Maybe to pretend, I don’t really know. But since Carl was gone… It was my ticket out of there. Away from a mom who’d never been there for me. Away from a life I wanted to forget. Just…away.”

“Who can blame you?”

It wasn’t a true question. It was one of those things people said when they didn’t know what else to say. Unfortunately, it had an answer.

“Kat can,” she said softly. “She doesn’t, but she should.”

Vanessa started to feel restless, her brain firing commands at her body to run. Her skin itched to be free of contact and the muscles in her legs jumped, needing to pace, to put distance between her and her past.

“What are you talking about? You took care of your sister her whole life and set a good example for her to follow. Why should Kat blame you for getting out and making something of yourself?”

“Because…I—” She shifted her legs and raised her head to look around, unsure of what she hoped to find. Someone to interrupt them? A magical portal to suck her into a parallel dimension? Despite being outdoors with the night sky stretching out above them, she felt stifled. Trapped.

“Hey, hey, hey.” A large, callused hand palmed the side of her face and redirected her attention. “You’re getting kinda flighty on me, Red. Come on, stay here with me.” He stroked her cheek and brushed her hair away from her face. “That’s it, honey. Take some slow breaths for me.”

She hadn’t realized just how close to a panic attack she’d been until he said that. She hadn’t had one of those since her college days when she learned what her sister had gone through. Oh, God…Kat. Vanessa closed her eyes and focused on Jackson’s deep voice, encouraging her to continue the deep breaths. His strong arms now banded around her, offering her comfort and a sense of security.

His lips touched her forehead in a chaste kiss, relaxing her like a dose of Valium. “That’s better. Tell me why you think Kat should blame you.”

Steeling herself for the onslaught of emotions she knew would accompany the admission, she spoke through a clenched jaw. “Because I left her behind to fend for herself. I wanted out so badly that I convinced myself she’d be okay without me.”

“She only had three years left of school, though, right? And since Carl—”

“My mom found a replacement,” she said sharply. “Tommy. From what I gathered, he was another alcoholic. He wasn’t an angry drunk. But I think he was worse. And Kat was the one who suffered.”

She felt him tense, the muscles under her cheek bunching and holding. “What happened?”

“H-he…” Vanessa shivered in his arms as the dark memories slithered along the walls of her brain, steadily making their way toward the light. She couldn’t stop them now. They were too close to the surface. There was nothing left to do but let them come and trust that eventually she could shove them back where they belonged. “I think he abused her…sexually.”

“Christ.” The vehemence lacing his voice sent shivers down her spine. He must’ve felt it because his arms gathered her close. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” He had. And she hated it. This woman—this girl—she became when she unlocked the past was not her. Not on the outside. Not anymore. Not since she created her Rules.

“So you’re not sure about what happened?”

She shook her head slightly. “One of Kat’s friends called me and said my mom’s ‘new boyfriend looked at Kat like she was his next meal’ and that Kat had started acting more withdrawn than usual. I called Kat and tried to get her to tell me what was happening, but she just kept saying she was fine and to focus on school. That I’d gotten out, and that’s where I needed to stay.

“So I called my mom. I told her I suspected Tommy was molesting Kat, but she refused to believe me. I screamed. I begged. But nothing I did made a damn bit of difference.” Vanessa took a deep breath and let it out, the tightness in her chest sharpening as her ribs contracted. “I called Kat again. Told her as soon as I could afford the ticket I’d be flying home, but she freaked out. She made me promise I’d stay. S-said she’d h-hurt herself if I came home because of her.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I know you must have felt helpless, but she did it because she loved you and wanted the best for you.”

Yes, she knew that. But it didn’t absolve her of the suffocating guilt. The tears streamed continually now and her breath hitched on every inhale. Jax tucked her closer against the solid wall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart coaxed hers to slow and match it, until at last the hysterics disappeared and she had calmed enough to finish the story.

“That was the night I drank an entire bottle of tequila while watching NCIS with Lucie. The night I decided to make a set of Rules that would keep me as far away from the kind of life I’d had growing up as possible.” She tipped her head back to make eye contact. “That’s why my Rules are so important to me. Where the inspiration came from might be a little strange, even silly…but I know if I follow them, I’ll never be like them, and I’ll never get involved with anyone like them, either. Not ever.”

“Oh, honey…I still won’t say I agree with your rules, but I understand now why you have them.”

“And do you understand why it’s so hard for me to forgive lying? Of all my Rules, that’s the one I feel most strongly about. Most people might think it would be the one about choosing fists over words, based on my past with abuse.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat, remembering the constant disappointment she lived with as a child. “But physical pain goes away. You know that as well as anyone. It’s the emotional pain that does the most damage.

“My mother made so many promises to me and my sister. Every damn day was another promise: she’ll take us to the park, see our school play, get clean…stop seeing men.” She tried blinking them away, but another stream of tears escaped. “They weren’t just broken promises. They were empty words. All of them, nothing but lies.”

Jackson gathered her tightly, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Baby, I admire you so much. More than ever I know you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

Vanessa shook her head, but he quickly put a stop to it.

“Yes, you are.” He prevented any further dispute by capturing her mouth with his for a sweet kiss. Pulling back, he studied her, his brows drawn together as though turning a thought over and over in his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but then hesitated and shook his head. “We can talk more tomorrow. Right now I want you to close your eyes and get some sleep.”

His words added weight to her lids, making them too heavy to keep open any longer. On a deep sigh, she did as instructed, tucking her head firmly under his chin. He set them into a slight rocking motion again, and moments later, she drifted off to the sounds of the waves on the beach and the steady beat of his heart.