Rules of Entanglement (9 page)

He stood, too, and picked up his board. He didn’t think she’d be one of the people who made assumptions about a fighter’s life like it wasn’t a real job. “Just because I’m not in a training camp right now doesn’t mean that when it’s time for me to work I slack off and it’s all sunshine and roses.”

“Come on, Jackson. Your career consists of eating healthy and working out. Most people do that on top of everything else in their life.”

“Really. That’s all it is, huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure your workouts are tough; I’m just saying that for someone who’s as in shape and used to it as you are, you would have a fairly easy time doing it. It’d be like cross-examining a witness for me.”

“I’m flattered by your faith in my abilities, but it doesn’t matter how in shape I am or how many times I do a camp. Every workout feels just as hard as my first day training. They’re like that by design.”

The slight arch in her brow as she packed up their things was about as subtle as one of Lucie’s snorts. He felt like she’d just insulted his work ethic, which didn’t make any damn sense. Jackson was always the first person to joke about how easy and carefree his life was. If his life had shampoo-bottle instructions they’d be: fight, surf, relax, repeat. So why was it suddenly so important to him to prove to her that he wasn’t just some lazy half-asser going through the motions?

“Tell you what,” he said as they shook out the blankets and folded them, “I’m going into the gym tomorrow morning. Why don’t you come with and see for yourself? That way, Counselor, you can make your ruling once you have all the evidence.”

“Hmm,” she began, making a face like she was really mulling it over. “You make a good case, but I thought you weren’t doing a camp right now.”

“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I never train.” When Vanessa bent down to grab the picnic basket and her purse, he added, “Gotta stay in shape for the ladies, you know.”

That had her head snapping up as she straightened, and a competitive spark lit her green eyes for a split second before she could douse it. Gesturing to his waist, she said, “You call those love handles staying in shape?”

“What?” Shit, he knew he’d had too many burgers this last week. Holding his arms out, Jax glared at his sides…and found nothing.

A peel of laughter came from a doubled-over Vanessa. “Oh my God, that was too easy! You’re worse than a girl!”

“A girl?” he said, raising his voice and enjoying the fake melodrama. She nodded emphatically with a hand muffling her giggles. “I’ll show you who’s the girl.”

As soon as he took a menacing step in her direction, she squealed his name in protest, dropped the folded blankets, and took off at a dead run over the white sand.

And he was more than happy to chase her.

“I want to propose something to you.”

Jackson looked up from where he was waxing his board by their private pool. As soon as they’d gotten back from the beach, they’d ordered in room service for dinner, and then she’d worked while he went for an evening run. Since she was still engrossed in her files after his shower, he settled himself by the pool and started waxing his board, listening to the waves hit the sand and the sounds of distant music and laughter coming from the beach bar on the other side of the resort.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the spot next to him. She was wearing a pair of cut-off sweatpants that barely covered her ass and a tank top. Proper island loungewear. Also proper make-his-cock-stand-up-and-say-aloha wear.
Christ.
Trying to take his mind off his dick, he refocused on his task at hand.

Once seated with the lower half of her legs dangling in the pool, she tucked her hands under her thighs and let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” he mused with a small grin. “Sounds serious. I’m not as clear on the law as you, but can you divorce me before we’re even married?”

“I’ll get back to you on that,” she answered wryly. “Is that pineapple I smell?”

He held up the bar. “Sex wax. Not to be confused with wax you can actually use during sex.”

“Have
you
used wax during sex?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you asking if I’ve ever tried wax play?”

She hesitated…then nodded.

“Not yet.” Images of dripping wax on her creamy skin assaulted him. “But something tells me I wouldn’t mind experimenting with lots of new things with the right person.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice taking on a husky tone that warmed his balls. Subject change was in order if he didn’t want to maul her without provocation in the next thirty seconds. Which, sadly, was debatable.

“So are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” He glanced down at her breasts and saw her hardened nipples straining against her tank. No bra.
Fuck!
She was trying to kill him. “Or would you rather I guess?” he offered, his voice dropping in pitch as well.

“Uh, well,” she started before clearing her throat. “I came to Hawaii with the intention of letting loose, so to speak. You know, maybe finding a guy I could shake things up with. But, since you’ve put me in this crazy predicament where we’re pretending to be our engaged friends, I can’t very well go around flirting and carrying on with anyone I happen to meet.”

“Uh-huh.” He liked where this was going.

“So since I have no other choice, you understand, I propose you be the one I…let loose with,” she finished lamely.

“In plain English, V.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake, you know what I’m saying. I want a vacation fling.”

“Which means what exactly?” He understood her proposal, but he wanted to hear her say the words. He leaned in closer until their breath mingled. “Say it,” he ordered softly.

She took a deep breath and bravely looked him in the eyes. “I want to have sex with you.”

“There. Was that so hard?” He smiled. “Speaking of hard…” He grabbed her hand and showed her exactly what he thought of her proposal.

“Jesus,” she gasped.

Even with the material of his shorts as a buffer, the feel of her palm against his hardening cock sent shockwaves through his veins. “I accept your proposal.”

She yanked her hand back and scooted a few inches away from him as though she needed room to breathe. Exactly the opposite of what he expected her to do.

“We can’t start until tomorrow, though.”

And
that
was exactly the opposite of what he expected her to
say
.

“Come again?”

“Rule #5: Never let a fling last more than three days. Today is Monday. If we start tomorrow, that gives us through Thursday night, which is perfect because Lucie and Reid are due to arrive on Friday in time for the rehearsal dinner.”

Jackson couldn’t believe she was putting a time limit on a fling like it was a goddamned parking meter. “You can’t be serious. Do you do this with every guy?” Suddenly the idea of her having three-day flings with random men made him want to go several rounds with a punching bag. Or better yet, the random men.

“Well, I don’t discuss the rule with them. I just always end things before it gets more serious than that. But since we’re in the unique position we are, I feel I need to be upfront with you about my expectations.”

“So you’ve never had relationships or dated anyone longer than three days?”

“Of course I have, but we’re not talking relationships; we’re talking flings. The two are very different.”

He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw as he mulled things over. Vanessa MacGregor was a strange creature. He couldn’t figure out why she had so many crazy rules and felt she needed to follow them like her own personal bible. Personally, he thought her rules were absurd, but if he wanted to be with her—and he really,
really
did—he supposed there were worse things than following a few rules. Presuming none of them was off-the-wall crazy.

He narrowed his eyes a little and asked, “If I agree to this, what other rules are going to be involved? I don’t want something sprung on me somewhere in day two. You don’t have any rules that involve me dressing up in women’s clothing, do you?”

“Not even one of my thongs?”

His eyes widened until she cracked a smile. “Careful, princess. By my count, you’re already owed two punishments. You wouldn’t want to double that, now would you?”

Her face lost some of its amusement and flushed a little, making him wonder if it was from worry…or excitement.

Clearing her throat, she reached into her back pocket and unfolded a sheet of paper that looked a lot like—
Holy shit.
“Is that a contract?”

“Of course not! But I didn’t want to forget anything so I wrote down all the—”

“Rules?” he asked with a wry raise of an eyebrow.

She leveled him with a confident stare and her chin lifted a hint more. “Yes. Rules.”

He loved that she didn’t back down when he tested her resolve. Some women would have given up at the first sign he wasn’t thrilled. But not Vanessa. She was totally at peace with her crazy, and for some reason it turned his crank that much harder. Sounded like he’d be doing a lot of things to humor his eccentric pretend-bride-to-be.

Setting his board off to the side, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“The deal is that we enter into a sexual relationship for the period of three consecutive days starting Tuesday, which is tomorrow, and after that we’ll revert back to a platonic friendship. However, because we have mutual friends, it’s almost certain that we’ll see each other in the future. So we also have to agree not to revisit any part of our sexual relationship during those times.”

“So we can’t sleep together just for old times’ sake? Why the hell not?”

“Because three days is three days, Jackson. Anything more than that and we run the risk of developing feelings for each other, and that’s not what either of us wants.”

“Uh-huh. And why is that again?”

She looked away from him, finding a sudden interest in the way she dog-eared the corner of the paper. “You’re not right for me.”

Ouch. That stung more than he’d have thought. “Because of your rules?”

She nodded but didn’t elaborate. He made a decision then and there that his goal for the next few days would be to figure out that list of rules and make her break as many of them as possible. She was strung too damn tight, and he was taking it upon himself to chill her the fuck out.

“What else did you write down?”

She shrugged one slim shoulder. “Just that during our fling neither of us messes around with anyone else, which is not only common courtesy but also to protect Reid’s and Lucie’s reputations.” Then she cut him a look from the corner of her eye. “That includes flirting, so you might want to steer clear of Jillian.”

Jackson worked to keep a straight face and bit back the laughter roiling in his chest. He didn’t doubt her main concern was for Lucie, but he’d bet his favorite board that hints of jealousy also fueled that last comment. V had nothing to fear from an old flame, but he didn’t see any reason to point it out. After all, it wasn’t like it mattered for a few days of mutual fun.

Stroking his jaw, he pretended to mull over her terms. He, of course, thought the strict time frame and ban on future dalliances were ridiculous, but he refused to believe those were firm rules. Even a Red Viper had the potential to be charmed.

“All right,” he said at last. “I agree to your terms for as long as you do, on one condition.”

“Which is what?”

“You give me control.”

She shook her head like he’d just told her to assassinate the president. “Rule #2.”

He checked the sigh of frustration before it escaped. Patience. “What is it?” She sucked the center of her lip between her teeth, and if she didn’t speak soon, she’d break the skin. “V, if we’re going to make this work, I need to know what I’m dealing with. What is it?”

“Never relinquish control.”

Boom. That rule alone explained a hell of a lot about why she had conniptions any time he tried holding the reins. He tried to imagine what had happened in her past that would make her so adamant about something like that. Nothing he came up with could be categorized as minor, and a fierce protectiveness welled up inside him. But he also wanted to help her let some of whatever was haunting her go, and the only way for her to do that would be to face her fear and give it to him.

“V,” he said gently, “I only want control in the bedroom, so to speak. Outside of that, you can boss me around all you want.”

“No.”

Gently. Firmly. “Yes.”

“I can’t,” she said weakly.

“You can. All I’m asking is you let me take the lead. I’ll never ask you to do anything you don’t want. The minute you tell me to stop, I stop. But I promise that whatever I do to you, the last thing you’ll want is for me to stop.” Jax leaned in, nuzzling the curve of her neck with his nose, letting his stubble gently abrade her skin as he lifted his face to whisper in her ear. “Give me control, V.”

She shuddered so hard he swore he felt it ripple through him as well. “I…” A shaky breath fanned over his cheek. “I promise I’ll try, okay? Deal?”

Jax felt like he’d just had his hand raised in a decision fight. He knew, for her, even conceding to try was a huge step. “Deal.” Sliding into the water, he placed himself between her legs with his hands on the concrete beside her hips, boxing her in.

“You agreed we wouldn’t start until tomorrow.”

He leaned in, his face next to hers, his mouth at her ear. “I have no intentions of touching you. But touching isn’t the only way to turn you on. For instance, you got me hard last night and all you did…,” he said, pulling back to meet her eyes meaningfully, “was stare at me.”

…

Vanessa inhaled sharply, and her back stiffened. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was. But then I felt those intense eyes burning into me. I felt branded everywhere they touched, and it made me so fucking horny, it’s a miracle I didn’t jump out of that hammock and attack you.”

It took a lot to make her blush normally, but now she felt as though her cheeks matched her hair. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“How about I make up for it now by saying a whole lot of things?”