Page 68 of Badd B*tch

I let my gaze wander over his diamond-cut abs and the delectable, panty-melting V of his Adonis belt pointing the way to his huge, hard cock.

I gulped audibly at the sight, and Jax's lips twitched and he pulled away from my breast, smirking up at me. "Problem, Tea?"

"Problem?" I echoed, my voice faint. "No, no problem. Just…” I met his eyes, knowing my smile was probably kind of dazed and silly. "Appreciating the view."

The expression on his face at my compliment was heart-melting: a kind of gratitude that went beyond words.

He was loved. I knew this. So was I—my father does love me; he just never knew how to show it, and the ways he did were tough and problematic, but I still—and always—knew it came from a place of love. And Jax? He had two parents who loved each other and him, and a whole giant family.

But…

Some wounds family cannot heal, and some voids the love of a parent, cousin, sibling, or best friend simply cannot fill. And the need to be seen, appreciated, touched, held, craved, wanted, needed, accepted—loved—in a romantic and sexual way is one of them.

The why of his obsessive, addictive thing for this Emerson girl is irrelevant; that kind of thing is very often outside of our control and isn’t rational or logical or understandable. What mattered were the effects. Even though he had been with other girls, those liaisons or relationships or hookups or whatever term you want to use for them could never fill the void or heal the hurt, could never sate the need I knew he had to feel. Which meant he’s likely never felt those things, not really, not fully, and my god, what a fucking injustice that is.

All this to say that the look on his face when I expressed that compliment honestly cut me to the quick. It wasn’t a big deal. Not a throwaway comment, but not, like, an expression of undying love. Yet he looked so grateful to be seen, to be complimented, that I knew then I would do anything to put that look on his face again and again.

I would give him everything I could, do anything he wanted, just to make him smile like that again, look at me like that again.

Apparently, Jax had not only woken up my sexuality, but another part of me that I hadn't even known I possessed: that nurturing, protective, loving instinct I'd always low-key assumed I was missing.

Apparently not.

It was warm and squishy and fierce and wild and soft and delicate and powerful all at once.

It scared me with its intensity, not to mention the suddenness of its appearance within me; that look on his face was the catalyst.

I bent over him again and tilted his face up to mine, and I claimed his lips, stabbed my tongue into his mouth, devoured his breath. He groaned, melted into me, one big, hard, rough hand bunching my hair at the back of my head, knotting a handful of it in his fist, crushing me close. I whimpered at the way he took control of the kiss, sank into it, into him. I cupped his jaw, his cheek, felt the sweep of his eyelashes, and I touched his cheek with my fingertips as we kissed, the aquiline angle of his nose. At this touch, Jax growled, lifted up into me—only to sag back with a grunt.

I parted just enough to break the kiss. "Lay still, sweetheart. I've got you."

Fuck me—sweetheart? I know Jax caught it; he sucked in a sharp breath.

I rested my forehead against his and whispered. "I've never said anything like that before in my life. I don't know what came over me."

"I hope you're not apologizing," he muttered back. "Hearing you say sweet shit like that to me, Tea?" he shook his head, voice thick. "Can't tell you what it means."

I nodded. "I know. I can tell." I kissed the corner of his mouth, wanting the heat more than the sweet, at the moment. "I'm not apologizing. Not at all. I just…I don’t recognize myself around you, sometimes. In a good way, just…it's all so much, so fast." I touched my lips to his to forestall the comment I could hear him about to make. "I am a little afraid of it all, Jax. But fear is normal. And if there's anything my life and career thus far have taught me, it's how to be the master of my fear. So yes, I might be scared of how intense my feelings for you have grown in the days we've known each other, but that's not gonna stop me."

"Scares me too," he answered. "Because it is a fucking lot, fucking fast. But for me, I've seen love play out a couple dozen different ways. All the love stories in my family are like this one, Tea. I truly, deeply believe that your heart can just recognize someone else's. I don't know how else to put it."

"I think that about covers it," I whispered. "But I don't wanna talk anymore. Or think."

"No? Then what do you want?"

I skated the pad of my middle finger over his lower lip. "More kisses." I pulled away just a little. "Please."

I'm not saying I was being disingenuous, but when I said I didn't want to talk because I wanted more kisses, I did have a bit of an ulterior motive. Or perhaps a plan is a better way of putting it.

Jax just grinned, pressing that smile against my own. "Gladly."

And for a while, then, I really did just lose myself in his kisses. And you know what? I'd like to hunt down every girl he'd ever kissed and thank each one, because damn, the man could kiss. He seemed to know exactly how I would respond, and met me there. When I was starting to feel overwhelmed by the ferocity of his tongue's hunger, his mouth would close, and he would turn the kiss soft and sweet and almost chaste, and then he would ramp it back up until I was growling like a wildcat, need rampaging through me.

And all the while we were kissing, his head was on my lap, and he was fondling my breasts and gripping my hip crease, and now he was caressing my face, the calluses of his broad palm scratchy against my cheek, and the tenderness of the gesture made my heart squeeze and palpitate—not medically, but metaphorically; just saying, it's an important distinction.

Desire was an inferno within me, then, setting my blood to boiling. I let it have free rein. It felt like something within me opening, becoming a yawning, gaping maw at the center of me, an infinite void needing to be filled, and the only possible source of satiety was Jax.

It was disorientingly potent. As if not only was my sexuality reawakened after being dormant for so long, but…renewed, somehow. Injected with pure adrenaline.