Dangerous Curves Page 9

  He held her face in his hands, running his tongue over her lips, probing and teasing. She pressed up against his chest, and those curves felt even better than he remembered. He bit back a groan and tightened his strong thighs, trapping her between them. Not that she was attempting to get away – quite the opposite, actually. She was soft under his hands, her mouth hot on his. He breathed in her sweetness, and wondered why kissing Sarah felt different than kissing any other woman, ever.

  Finally, Jax pulled back. “God, Sarah. Where the hell did that come from?”

  She smiled up at him. “Too much? Too intense?”

  He laughed. “No way, baby. Not anywhere near enough, if you must know… but enough for now.” He stood up and took her hand. “Now, come on. You want a tour of the place?”

  “I do.”

  They walked through the garage in to the house, up a flight of stairs. Sarah looked around at the high ceilings and massive windows. The house was amazing, she thought. Maybe a bit too big for a person living on their own, but it was surprisingly bright and airy, with nice furniture and relaxing, sunny paint colors on the walls.

  His bedroom was uncompromisingly masculine, naturally, but he had some art on the walls that lightened it up a bit. He had a home gym in his basement, two guest rooms, a small office. Everything was warm, too, and friendly, which surprised her the most. It felt like a home, not just a house, and she stared at the man in front of her with new eyes.

  “What do you think?” Jax asked.

  “Honestly? Ummm. Not really what I was expecting.”

  “I know, right? I bet you thought I lived in a one-room manwhore sex-pad.”

  “Well, yeah. Kind of.” She looked around again, noticed the house plants. “How do you maintain your bad-ass street cred after people see this place? It kind of blows the whole scowling biker-bar persona out of the water, doesn’t it, Stud?”

  “I don’t bring people here.”

  She paused. “Never?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “Nobody?”

  “Nope. Not women, not even the guys.”

  “How come?”

  “Like you said, I have an image to keep up.” He shrugged. “This ain’t it.”

  “So why did you bring me here?”

  “Because you’re different.”

  His words smashed her in the stomach, hard, and she suddenly found herself wanting him, fiercely. Yeah, Jax was gorgeous and whenever he touched her, she dissolved in to a puddle of mush. But more than that, she liked him. She wanted to get to know him better, this man who owned a bar patronized by bounty hunters and ex-cons, a man who also had a pale-yellow kitchen and rose bushes in his back garden.

  Just who the hell are you, Jax Hamill?

  “So,” he said. “One thing you need to know about me is I’m a lousy cook, but I can do a mean barbecue.”

  She perked up. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I sure as hell hope you’re not a vegetarian, Red, ‘cause if you are, your dinner will be salad from a plastic bag.”

  “Nothing to worry about. I’m a hardcore carnivore.”

  “Thank God.” He opened the fridge. “So burgers sound OK?”

  “Yeah.” She totally relaxed now. “Perfect.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Jax nodded at a bottle of wine on the counter. “I know you don’t drink beer or hard stuff, but I don’t have anything like Aidan’s skill at mixing drinks. Is wine OK?”

  “Yeah. Great.”

  “I got red.” He picked it up, turned the bottle in his large hand. “Made me think of you.”

  She swallowed at the heat in those green eyes, then she blinked in horror when she saw the label.

  “Jax!” she said. “That’s a four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine!”

  He started. “How the hell do you know that? You aren’t supposed to know that.”

  “I’m doing all the marketing and promotional materials for a restaurant, remember? Website, business cards, all that stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s an expensive place – Joe Carlisle’s new restaurant, Lemongrass.” She was still staring at the bottle in Jax’s hand. “And I’m designing the menus, including the wine menu. I now know more than I’ve ever wanted to about crazy-expensive wines.”

  “Goddammit.” Jax sighed. “I just wanted to get you something nice. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He grinned, hoping to win her over with charm. “So, you want a glass?”

  “Good Lord, Jax, of course I want a glass. When am I going to be offered liquid gold ever again in my life?”

  He laughed. “Good. I’ll try some myself.”

  She watched him pour the wine, and she took it from him gingerly, not wanting to spill a single drop. She sipped, cocked her head at him.

  “Well?” he said. “Did the heavens open and the angels sing?”

  She giggled. “It’s good.”

  “Yeah?” Jax took a sip himself. “Hmmm. I taste…classic cedarwood, with hints of licorice, balanced by notes of spice and tobacco. Maybe a breath of vanilla.”

  Sarah gaped at him. “You – what?”

  Jax laughed again. “That’s what the guy in the store said when he recommended it to me.”

  “Did you roll your eyes?”

  “Not to his face.” Jax drank again. “I do taste something spicy, though. You?”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it.”

  “You think this wine will go OK with burgers?”

  “Only if you melt some crazy-expensive cheese on top.” Sarah considered. “Possibly something French.”

  “Well, damn. I only have plain old American cheddar.”

  “It’ll have to do.” She sighed theatrically. “I’ll lower my standards for one night.”

  “Glad to hear you’ll put up with me, doll.”

  They grinned at each other again.

  **

  They were out on the patio above the backyard. Sarah drank her wine, then rested her head against the back of her chair and closed her eyes.

  “You OK?”

  She looked at Jax, standing next to the smoking barbecue. She admired his arms in his tight black t-shirt.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just enjoying the silence.”

  “You ever get away from the city?” Jax flipped the burgers.

  “Oh, no. Never. I wish I did. I love a big, open sky.”

  “Well, just hang on a few hours. The stars out here are something else.”

  “I bet.” She looked around again. “I just – I can’t believe you live out here like this.”

  “No?”

  “No. It seems so… cozy. Homey.”

  “Yeah, well.” Jax took a drink of his wine. “I didn’t have too much of that when I was growing up, and as soon as I could afford it, I made damn good and sure I got it for myself.”

  “Tough childhood?” she asked softly.

  “Oh, yeah, baby. Tough as it gets.”

  She paused. “You want to tell me about it?”

  Jax glanced at her, briefly. Normally, he didn’t talk about it, not with anyone. But it didn’t seem fair, somehow, for him to know about Sarah’s life and what she was fighting her way through, and to hold out on her.

  Besides that, he knew she wouldn’t look down on where he came from, and she wouldn’t think less of him for it. Maybe she’d even understand what he’d done that had landed him in jail, and why he’d done it. But this wasn’t the time.

  “I do want to tell you,” he said quietly. “Just not now, OK?”

  “OK.”

  Her easy acceptance surprised him; usually, people pushed. At least until he glowered at them, and then they shut the fuck up. They also never asked again.

  “Really?” he said. “You don’t mind me not talking about it yet?”

 
“I don’t mind.” She smiled at him. “It’s your story, Jax. You tell it when you’re ready.”

  “Yeah, well.” He stared up at the mountains, avoiding her bright blue gaze. “It’s not a nice story, Sarah. Like, not at all.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I wouldn’t wish a tough upbringing on anyone.” She looked around. “But it doesn’t seem to have held you back, in the end.”

  He looked at her now, suddenly wanting to be honest about at least one important thing. “OK, truth?”

  “Yeah, always. You know that, Jax.”

  “All this money that I have? It didn’t come from Curves, and it obviously didn’t come from my family. But before you start to worry, it didn’t come from anything illegal.”

  “OK.” She waited.

  “I won the lottery.”

  She blinked. “Like… the real lottery? Little balls falling in to a clear box, and a guy in a penguin suit calling the numbers?”

  “Yep. Exactly.”

  “Here, in Colorado?”

  “No, back home. The Michigan State Lottery.”

  “You’re from Michigan?”

  “Detroit, baby, born and raised.”

  “Holy crap.” She laughed now. “You know what? I never even won a school raffle.”

  “It was the first thing I won, ever. I made it count, I guess.”

  “I’ll say.” Sarah shook her head. “That’s great, Jax.”

  “Yeah, in lots of ways, it is. I mean, I was able to buy Curves for cash, and this house with no mortgage. My bike, my truck. And there’s plenty to spare, so I’m able to help my sister. I went from working construction for cash-in-hand and bouncing in bars to this.” Jax waved his hand around the patio, then was quiet for a few seconds. “I still wake up some mornings and I can’t believe I have this life now. It’s just – it’s so far from where I was not so long ago. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever really stop being amazed by that.”

  “I hope not.”

  “You do?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You’re grateful for what you’ve got, and lots of people with money aren’t. As long as you’re amazed by where you wake up, you’ll remember to be grateful.”

  “Yeah, I suppose.” He looked at the burgers. “I think these are ready. You hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “Great. Grab a plate and come over here. Dinner is served.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah carried the plates in to the kitchen. She set them in the sink, turned on the hot water.

  “Hey, leave them.” Jax appeared next to her. “I’ll throw them in the dishwasher later.”

  “You sure? I mean, you cooked, so I should do the dishes.”

  “I’m sure.” He pulled her to him gently. “I want dessert.”

  “What’s for dessert?” she said, starting to feel breathless.

  “You.” He ran his fingers down her body and stopped at her hip. “In the pool.”

  She shivered in response. She was instantly wet between her legs at the thought of seeing Jax in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Then she remembered.

  “Ummm. I don’t have a bathing suit.”

  “You don’t need one.”

  She smiled up at him, and he thought she was the brightest, most stunning thing he’d ever seen. “So this is naked dessert.”

  “Is that a problem?” His voice was a low, sexy growl.

  She paused, and he saw the uncertainty flash across her face. Right away, he dropped the joking tone.

  “Hey, Sarah… if you don’t want to, it’s OK.” He stroked her hair, soothing her. “No pressure. I promise.”

  “Maybe – maybe I can keep my underwear on?”

  “No pressure,” Jax repeated. “We can just sit on the deck and look at the stars.” He grinned. “Maybe make out a little bit.”

  She was quiet.

  “Hey, did I scare you?”

  “No.”

  “So what’s going on in that busy head of yours?”

  “I was just thinking that the view of the stars is probably better from the swimming pool.”

  Jax felt his heart stop.

  “So… dessert in the pool it is, Stud.” Her face was calm now, relaxed and sure. “But not totally naked dessert. Not yet.”

  “Whatever you want, doll. I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”

  She took his hand, led him back outside to the patio, down the back steps in to the yard. Sarah walked over to the pool edge, kicking off her sandals as she went. Jax watched her ass in her jeans, dying to get his hands on her.

  Take it easy now, man. Stay in control.

  She immediately tested his resolve by turning to him, and slowly lifting his t-shirt up and over his head. She dropped it on the deck, and moved in to his arms.

  Jax closed his eyes as she pressed up on his chest. Her breath on his bare skin was almost too much; her hair tickling his sensitive flesh was sweet torment… and he loved it all and wanted more of it.

  Sarah couldn’t believe Jax’s body – it was like something from a dirty fantasy. Hard, huge, muscular, tattooed damn near everywhere. Dear sweet God, the man was ripped, and any thought she’d ever had of Dave as attractive flew right out the window. Jax’s body was raw power, lethal and dangerous, and she could actually feel him holding back the most primitive part of himself, not wanting to scare her.

  She lifted her hand to his chest, hesitated.

  “Touch me, baby.” His voice was an octave lower than usual. “Do what you want.”

  He held his breath as her fingers stroked his arms and chest. Slow. Gentle. Her shyness and inexperience were totally new things for Jax, and he was surprised how much he actually liked them.

  Until now, he’d only ever been with women who knew what the hell they were doing in bed, who demanded their own pleasure with grasping fingers and thrusting hips, who knew how to suck his dick to get him off. Sleazy, harsh, purely selfish sex. Even the first girl he’d ever been with had been almost three years older, and widely experienced.

  Jax had thought that was what he liked, what he really craved and needed. But what he was doing here with Sarah – just standing still and letting her explore him at her own pace – was the hugest fucking turn-on he’d ever known.

  Sarah didn’t know where to touch first. His shoulders and arms were massive, heavily muscled, demanding her attention. But his broad chest was a thing of perfection, with the grooves and curves covered in intricate tattoos. He had dark hair on his sculpted pecs, and it ran down the center of his body and disappeared in to the waist of his jeans. She longed to follow it over his taut stomach, all the way to his cock. The thought made her pussy spasm and she bit her lip.

  He had scars, she saw. Lots of them, mostly hidden under the dark ink covering his body. She skimmed the raised white lines, realizing that the man beneath her fingers was a street fighter of some kind. Strong, menacing, tough. A man who’d seen some kind of war, and who’d walked away from it in one piece. What had he done to get away from that life? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Those large hands were moving over her body now, so careful and tender. Jax seemed determined not to hurt her, or frighten her, and she wanted to reassure him that she was OK with him. He touched her like she was made of glass, and she had to do something to show him that she wasn’t going to break under him.

  She took his hands in her own, holding his eyes. She slid his fingers under her t-shirt, pulled up. He groaned as he felt her smooth skin, and he tugged the material higher to get more access. She raised her arms above her head and he yanked the shirt off in one strong movement. Jax gazed down at those gorgeous breasts in a plain white bra – no lace, no frills – then pulled her close, his hands running all over her back and shoulders before clenching in her hair and lifting her to him.

  He kissed her, a
nd she felt his rough need. In response, she rubbed her nipples against his chest, felt them harden and tingle through the cotton. He made a sound deep in his throat and he stroked her mouth with his tongue, tasting, plunging. His control was getting shaky, and she smiled against his lips.

  “What are you grinning about?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

  “You.” She ran her fingers over his muscled, straining abs, then slid around and stopped at the small of his back. “You’re amazing.”

  “No way.” He kissed her neck, scraped his teeth delicately on the sensitive flesh. “You are. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He stared at her lush curves, loving how pale and delicate she looked next to his dark, tanned skin. “Like cool white silk.”

  “Take off your jeans, Jax.” It was a soft command, but it hit him like a punch to the throat. “Now.”

  He stepped back, fumbled with the belt and snap and zipper. Christ, he hadn’t felt this awkward and clumsy since he’d lost his virginity at the age of fourteen. He watched as Sarah undid her own jeans and slid them down her legs, tossed them aside. He was so busy staring at the spot between her soft thighs, hidden under simple white cotton panties, his one foot caught in the denim. He tottered, and for a few seconds, he thought he’d lose his balance and topple right over. She laughed at him, and he smiled back.

  “You going to fall down, tough guy?” she said.

  “I told you that you’re a knock-out, doll. That body’s gonna knock me flat on my ass, if I don’t watch myself.”

  She blushed, looked down.

  “Hey, no. Don’t go all shy on me now.” Jax kicked his jeans off at last, and reached for her. “You’re stunning, I promise you.”

  “Not too…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Not too what?”

  “Too… fat?”

  “Jesus Christ, Sarah. Really?”

  She nodded.

  “God. You’re not anything but sheer fucking perfection.” He ran his fingers down her throat, over the necklace chain he’d bought her, hovered in the hollow between her breasts. “Curvy and juicy. I’d do nothing but touch you all night, if I could.”