Finding Dandelion (Dearest #2) (22 page)

She strokes my hair, as though I’m the one who needs comforting tonight, and I clutch her tighter. I say her name against her skin until I taste the water that’s dripped down her body, and I long to taste more.

Looking up at her again, I watch her as she watches me strip her out of her panties. She grips my shoulders as she struggles out of her clothes, and then I’m staring at this girl who is so gloriously bare in front of me, I feel like a twelve-year-old boy who’s about to come in his pants.

Because Dani waxes it all off. Fuck me.

At eye level with this amazing sight, all I can do is admire this vision before me. My cock screams at me to do something, anything, so I press my mouth against her skin, spreading her apart gently with my hands as she grips my hair. She feels so right, so good, that I almost feel shaken by some sense of déjà vu. I still as I stare up at her again, questions I can’t quite word edging near the surface of my mind.

But then she gasps, “Don’t stop!” and I want her to come undone around me.

I lick my lips, her sweet scent nearly derailing my ability to speak. “Do you trust me?”

She nods, her eyes telling me she’s hungry for more.

Edging her over a little so she’s wedged into the corner of the shower, I slowly pull her injured leg over my shoulder as I kneel in front of her.

“Does this hurt? Is your leg okay?”

A small laugh escapes her.

“Jax, only one thing hurts, and it’s not my leg.” A devilish smile curls her lips, and I grin back. Someone’s feeling better.

I dip my tongue into her, stroking so softly that I’m barely touching her, but it’s enough that she yanks on my hair, pulling me harder toward her. I laugh against her skin, loving that I’m driving her crazy, wanting to take her right to the edge.

So that’s what I do, touch everything but the spot I know she’s dying to have me devour. Her breath picks up, and she’s grabbing for me, one hand gripping my hair and the other scratching up my shoulder.

I can’t take it any longer either, so I slide one finger into her while I finally settle my mouth on her bundle of nerves, and she screams my name, shuddering apart against me.

When she stills, I do my best to ignore my angry hard-on. This is about Dani, about making her feel better, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of her when she’s feeling vulnerable.

So I wash her body and wrap her in a towel and carry her to my bed. I go over to my dresser, and throw on a pair of boxers, trying to ignore the wood I’m still sporting before I pull out a t-shirt and toss it to Dani. It lands on her head and she laughs, yanking it off.

“Clothes? Really?” Her eyebrow arches. “I thought we were well beyond that point. Besides,” she says, lowering her voice, “I’d like to reciprocate.”

So much for ignoring my dick because it’s like the arm of a compass pointing north. I sit next to her, my back to her.
Get it together, Avery.
When I turn around, I say it before I can change my mind. “Dani, I’m sure this is going to sound crazy, but I want to go slowly with you.”

Her head tilts, confusion in her eyes.

I clear my throat. “I don’t want to fuck things up and—”

“Jax, I’m not made of glass, and I won’t break. Get your ass over here. Now.”

Shit, I love a forceful Danielle.

She tells me to sit back on the bed, and then she rolls over onto her side, letting the towel drop open as she lowers my boxers. The sight of her breasts brushing up against my thighs has me wanting to slam into her until she comes so hard, she begs me to stop. I clench my jaw, trying to keep myself from taking over.

The metal on her piercings scratches against my skin, and I’m dying to wrap my mouth around them again. I lean up to grab her, but she stops me with her palm. “Sit still,” she says, a smirk on her face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She props herself against me as she wraps her hand around my length. Her green eyes stare at me as she dips her head down into my lap where, dear God, her mouth is like a religious awakening.

Her tongue darts out and teases me until I have to squeeze my eyes shut because the sight of her wrapped around my dick nearly makes me lose it.

A few minutes later, I fall out of her mouth, and I slowly open my eyes.

She shakes her head like she’s scolding me. “Watch,” she purrs as she closes around me, making me hiss.

I hold out as long as I can, but she’s too good. Her mouth is too wet. Too snug. Too warm.

“Babe, I’m there,” I groan as I grip her hair.

The rush powers through me, seizing every muscle and joint in my body until I’m spent and gasping for breath.

As soon as I’m able to string together a coherent thought, I grab Dani and wrap myself around her. My face to her neck. My chest pressed to her side. My leg nestled between her thighs.

Her fingers thread through my hair, and her contented sigh does something crazy to my heart. I close my eyes and breath in the sweet scent of apples and marvel at how she feels like my missing puzzle piece.

I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve the blow job of my life, but when I wake up a few hours later with her body laced through mine, it pales in comparison to watching her sleep against my chest.

How have I gone so long without recognizing how much I want this woman?

CHAPTER THIRTY

- Dani -

Who was that girl who told Jax to watch her give him a blow job? Hello? That would be the alien who took over my body and turned me into a sex-craved maniac.

I have officially joined Jax’s army of easily accessible girls.

When I wake up alone, the shame of what I did last night burns on my skin like hot coals.

It’s not that I’m in any way opposed to the actions themselves, but damn, I’m not even dating Jax. I’ve never gone that far with someone I wasn’t in a serious relationship with.

The girl who grew up watching old Madonna videos wants to embrace my sexual freedom and treat last night cavalierly, but the small part of me who someday wants the house, kids and white picket fence knows what I did last night is not how I’ll achieve those ends.

As I stare at his side of the bed, thoughts of him naked blur behind my eyes. Everything he did, every touch, every kiss, felt so good. My skin tingles just thinking about what he did to me. And I let him know how much I enjoyed it, screaming when I came. And I’m not a screamer.

I smack my forehead before I push my face into the pillow, beyond mortified.

I could handle this morning if it hadn’t felt so good to wake up in the middle of the night, warm from having Jax’s body pressed to mine. I could revel all day in the way he said my name as he nuzzled against me, half asleep. My finger traces my swollen bottom lip, memories of last night making my skin hot.

I shake my head, trying to focus.

At least he didn’t accidentally say another girl’s name. Thank the Lord for small favors.

A gray light filters in from the window. It’s cold, and through the crack in the dark curtains, I see the snow falling. I snuggle deeper in the blankets, realizing the sheets smell like us.

A small ache starts building in my chest. When he drops me off at my place tomorrow, and all I have left of our time together are a few sore muscles and a couple of bruises, I’m going to need more than the painkillers the doctor gave me to deal with this pain.

What’s worse is he’s been so great, so attentive and sweet, making us meals and finding fun stuff for us to do while we’re holed up here—the kind of behavior that’s going to make the end that much harder. Because I realize what I have with Jax comes with an expiration date. This whole thing happened because of the car accident. It’s not as though he asked me out and romanced me. He’s probably feeling the need to make it up to me.  Crap. I wonder if that’s why he asked me to the banquet.

And then my mom called…

A humiliating thought crosses my mind.
God, I hope he didn’t do last night out of pity.

Trying to get a hold of myself, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. Damn it. I can’t even do the walk of shame properly because I’m stuck here until one of my roommates gets home tomorrow.

I take a deep breath, resolving to play this smart.

What happened here with Jax is going to get tucked into a fantasy file for future reference when I have a boyfriend who’s more my speed—probably something battery-operated—while I figure out how I’m going to move back to Chicago. Because, really, there’s only one person I should be thinking about right now, and it’s my mother.

Before the tears in my eyes get to be more than I can handle, I force myself to focus on all the schoolwork I need to do before the winter holidays. So I get up, slowly putting weight on my leg, surprised that it doesn’t hurt half as much as it did the last few days. I twisted my other knee when I was younger, and the injury kept me out of gymnastics for two months due to a stretched ligament. This is nothing compared to that injury.

If I walk slowly, I can put my full weight on it. That icing technique must have really helped. I’ll have to thank Jax for the suggestion and for helping me recuperate.

I shuffle around the room as I pull on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before I toss my hair into a messy ponytail. Reaching into my suitcase, I grab my binder and journal, stuffing them into my messenger bag so I can get some work done.

Slowly, I open the bedroom door and look down the hallway, which is dark. In the background, the treadmill hums.

Relieved that I don’t have to face him yet, I limp into the kitchen where the coffee is already percolating.

This doesn’t have to be weird. It doesn’t. I will treat Jax the way I did before we got horizontal and pretend he hasn’t seen my naked lady garden. Again.

After I pour a cup of coffee, I take a few sips and stare out the window, wondering how the storm will affect travel back to Boston. Mesmerized by the falling snow, I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there when warm arms wrap around my waist.

“Holy shit, Jax. You scared me.”

He laughs softly and kisses my neck. “You looked too good to not touch.”

My head tilts back to look at him, and he nips at my skin. Judging by my rapid pulse, getting some separation from Jax is going to be harder than I thought.

Wait, this isn’t how the morning-after works. He’s supposed to be sullen and distant, and I’m supposed to avoid eye contact. Instead, my body responds to his, arching into him. If he pets my head right now, I think I’d meow.

He’s sweaty, and the fading fragrance of his body wash and the scent of his skin has me wanting to devour him. Based on the enormous erection pressed into my back, he’s feeling the same way.

“How’s your knee?” he whispers into my ear, sending goosebumps all up and down my arms.

“Much better. I can walk. It’s still tender, but—”

I don’t finish because he spins me around, props me up on the counter, and crushes his mouth into mine. My legs automatically fall open and he nestles tightly between my thighs.

My hands run along his sweaty chest, feeling every hard muscle, and there are a lot of them. We kiss, our tongues tangling until we’re both panting, and he pulls away, resting his hands on the counter and lowering his head, like he’s a runner out of breath.

“Sorry, Dani. I just want you so badly.” He inhales deeply. “I should stop or I’m going to fuck you on the kitchen table.”

He wants me.
No one has ever told me that before.

I am an ember caught in his flame, and my reaction is visceral. I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. “Who says we should stop? We’ll call it breakfast.”

Yeah, so much for playing it smart.

He stands straight, and his eyes burn into me like nitrate, creating a firestorm that’s hot enough to make me ignore all the warning bells that this isn’t a good idea.

“Are you sure?” he asks, a strain in his voice.

All I can do is nod as my hands fist in his hair. We don’t talk, just stare as his lips find mine.

He grips my ass and carries me to the dining table and sets me down. Now I realize how this is a better angle because he’s pressing into me so perfectly, I could almost lose it now.

I reach down to grab the hem of my t-shirt, and he helps me yank it off so that we’re skin to skin, and when my piercings rub against his chest, my toes curl.

Jax presses his hand against my neck as he lowers me back onto the cool surface, and his hands run the length of my torso and back up again before they settle on my breasts. He squeezes, hard, and it’s just shy of hurting, but I love it so much I gasp.

With a wicked grin, he lowers his mouth and pulls on a ring with his teeth, and a low, deep moan starts in the back of my throat. When he reaches for my sweatpants, he hesitates and looks up at me, so I help him push off my clothes.

Once I am fully on display, he stops and stares, his eyes searing me. The grin on his face makes me want to cover myself, to hide, but he grabs my arms and pushes them up over my head. God, I love it when he does this, takes over.