Page 25 of Kiss Marry Kill
“Would it make you happy?”
She nodded wildly.
“Then I’ll bring sandwiches every day.”
* * *
It was later that night and everything had finally calmed down. The installers had left and Jax had been debriefed on all the goings-on with ICS and the various new clients. Megan had a few more calls and meetings to tend to. Sitting outside, with his feet on the banister, his arms behind his head, looking out at the ocean, Jax had to admit that her house, although ridiculously huge, was a respite from the noise and crowds of the city. He was enjoying the quiet when the door opened and closed behind him and he dropped his legs and stood.
“No, stay. Mind if I join you?” she said, a hand on his shoulder guiding him back down. Pulling out the chair beside him, she sat, propped her feet up, and handed him a beer. He glanced to the side to watch her as she got comfortable and twisted open the other beer she held. The flowy yellow skirt that went to her calves hung down, almost touching the floor. Her feet were in some kind of fancy flip-flop-looking thing that showcased her pretty toes. The toes were painted white, and her brown hair was tied in a crazy-looking knot on her head.
One of the best things about Megan was that she was beautiful without trying. No makeup, no extravagant hairdo, no fancy skintight clothes. And that’s exactly what made his fingers twitch at the moment. He wanted to pull the rubber band out of her hair and run his fingers through it, see if she’d moan his name when he pulled a little on her scalp.
And what was she wearing underneath that skirt?
She used to be a plain white cotton panties kind of girl. Was she now a sexy lingerie kind of woman?
“Any update?” she asked, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the white tank top that made the swell of her breasts look mouthwatering.
“You’re . . .” he ran a finger along her bare shoulder, “ . . . glittery?”
She looked down at her chest and then her shoulder. “It’s probably just the moisturizer I use after I shower. We call it shimmer, not glitter.”
He tried to suppress a chuckle. “Well, excuse me, Ms. Rock Star. I’ll have to read up on the correct protocol.”
She winked at him, cheekily. “Next thing I know you’ll be calling my lip stain ChapStick. I don’t know if I could forgive that, Jackson.”
When she puckered her lips, he had trouble concentrating on anything else. He loved playful Megan. Except playful Megan was also sexy-as-fuck Megan, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Let me know when you’re done staring at my mouth, so we can talk.”
He licked his lips unintentionally, and was moments away from pushing her top down, taking her tits out and biting on one of those nipples. Were they still that light pink shade? Did she still taste the same? Hesitantly, his eyes moved back to her face. Her cheeks were flushed but her eyes were locked on his and her breathing seemed a little labored. Fuck. If she looked down, there was no way he would be able to hide the way his cock was straining against his gym shorts.
Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and turned his face back to the ocean. Why even bother to pretend he wasn’t staring? He was. It was obvious. It’s not like she looked upset about it. “Okay, I’m done staring. What was the question again?”
She laughed and took a sip from the bottle of beer in her hand. “Any updates?”
She used to hate beer. Even these little changes surprised him. Made him realize how many things he didn’t know about her. How much he’d missed.
“Nothing on the prints. He’s not in any database.”
“So what does that mean?”
“Means we keep our eyes and ears open. Meanwhile, I have my team digging.” He turned to her, taking a swig of beer. “I read the police reports earlier today. The original two based on your previous complaints. The first was about a letter you received when you got back from a tour?”
She let out a breath and looked out into the ocean. The concern she’d been hiding was back on her face, and it bothered him that he’d been the one to break that peaceful looking expression. But, this was why he was here, right? For her safety. And it was time to talk more about that.
“We had a show in Amsterdam a year and a half ago. It was the first stop on our European tour. After the concert, we went out to celebrate at a nearby pub and there was a guy lurking around. He introduced himself as Ryan. Very nice, asked for my autograph. The only unusual thing about him was that he didn’t want Nelly or Taylor’s autographs, just mine, and he hovered a little too long. We hadn’t really blown up yet, we were still relatively unknown. But like I said, he was nice.”
“Taylor? Your guitarist, right?”
“Yeah. She’s in Japan doing some promo for her clothing line right now. I miss her like crazy. Haven’t seen her in two months. This skirt is from her line, not that you needed that information.” She reached for her skirt and swayed it a little and smiled.
“It’s pretty.” He took another gulp of beer. “But most things look pretty on you.”
Her smile widened and she was about to turn her eyes away, but with his index finger he gently guided her face back to his. It was impossible not to compliment her; she was just that beautiful to him. So she just needed to get used to it. “You have millions of adoring fans. I can’t imagine you don’t get compliments all the damn time. But with me, you get shy.”
“Well, yeah,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’re you.”
