Part 25 (1/2)

Jax rolled his drumsticks in his hand and playfully tapped out a beat on his much shorter sister's pink head. Mandi, apparently, didn't appreciate his brotherly affection and attempted to punch him in the stomach, despite the fact that she was a d.i.n.ky little squirt with fists the size of his big toes.

”What is it about you guys and punching each other?” A familiar, husky voice broke through Zakk Wylde's remake of ”Ain't No Suns.h.i.+ne” booming through the club.

Jami. She'd actually come.

His head snapped up and his blood felt like lava, burning him from the inside out as it flowed faster through his veins. Unfortunately, his shock gave the d.i.n.ky devil next to him an opening to punch him hard in the gut, doubling him over with a cough.

”What the h.e.l.l, Mand?” He choked, trying to stand up straight and hold his belly. But his sister waved at Jami, smirked at him, and ran off toward the greenroom.

He turned back to Jami and realized she was wearing a short jean skirt-short enough he could see her creamy thighs-and a sleeveless plaid cotton s.h.i.+rt. And even more surprising, if that was possible, she had it unb.u.t.toned far enough that he could see the top curve of her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s, held tightly in a lacy tank top. She was hotter than any woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

She threw up her hands. ”Well?” She huffed, blowing out a breath that lifted her loose, long blond hair. Long, gorgeous hair that he hadn't seen down in five years. He smiled, trying really hard not to look predatory. He couldn't help it. Despite her douchebag parents and her odd attachment to everything boring and beige, his body instantly reacted to hers. She looked awesome. But instead of telling her so, he motioned with his finger for her to spin. He had to know how long her hair fell down her back and what those black heels she was wearing did to her pert round little a.s.s.

She tried to hide her blush, which he always found so cute, but slowly turned, her arms still spread wide. How she could be such a wild vixen in bed and still get embarra.s.sed at a little lascivious attention was pretty d.a.m.n funny. When she started turning, he realized he wasn't the only one watching her swivel her hips as she circled. He turned his glare at the table of a.s.sholes eyeballing Jami and the two standing against the bar. The blond G.o.ddess in front of him remained completely clueless to her audience.

It was only a moment before her back came into view. Her hair wasn't as long as it was back in school. Oh no, it was longer, curling over the round lift of her a.s.s. Enough hair to grab and wrap around both fists as he imagined bending her over and driving into her. His chest tightened and he took a step forward. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he felt her tremble under his touch. He loved that feeling. The way he affected her. No matter how much she fought their connection and their past with her words, her body betrayed her l.u.s.t. Every. d.a.m.n. Time.

Jax bent over her, letting his hand trace her shoulder, down her collarbone, and brush the side of her breast before spreading across her soft belly. He loved Jami's body. Always had. Her insane hourgla.s.s figure made him drool. Even when she hid it in boxy suits and wore her no-nonsense bun and lawyerly demeanor. She oozed s.e.x innately. She knew it. Fought it. But not tonight. Tonight she wore it on her sleeve. Owned it.

And Jax was just arrogant enough to believe it was all for him. ”Did you wear this for me, suns.h.i.+ne?” he whispered into her ear and ran his tongue over the soft curve of her lobe.

She stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting back into him and shaking her head. Such a little liar. He smiled against her neck, her soft, flowery scent filling his lungs like it was oxygen itself. ”Did you come to get your panties or did you come to see me play?”

”Both.” Her words were low, a smoky whisper. ”I thought it would be a good idea to hear my client's music. And you do have something that belongs to me.”

”You'll have to stay for one to get the other.” He ran his nose along her neck and bit her softly. He didn't need to feel her up in the middle of the dingy club to know her nipples would be hard as two little bullets. Experience and her sharp intake of breath told him that.

”Please stop.”

He turned her in his arms and looked down into her blue eyes. ”I will if that's what you really want. Or we can pretend the past doesn't exist. For one night.” Wrapping her long hair around his fist, he angled her head where he wanted it. Where he needed it.

”I'm going to kiss you now.”

”In the middle of all these people?”

”Yeah.”

Her eyes widened and while she seemed to consider it, he ran his hand along her neck and cupped her face. She nodded, hissing slightly when he gave a sharp pull on her hair. He heard the band announced as Conner ran past him and b.u.mped him with his shoulder. ”Time to rock and roll, playboy!”

Jax took Jami's mouth. There was no other way to describe it. He took her full, bow-shaped lips under his and tried to convince her with his tongue to stop s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around. There was no subtle build up, no gentle touch of lips brus.h.i.+ng together. He needed to f.u.c.king kiss her again. And hard. So he did, leaving no question as to what he wanted from her, f.u.c.king her with his tongue and rubbing his hard c.o.c.k against the soft give of her body. He was going to combust into flames if he didn't get back inside her sweet curves soon. He moaned into her mouth and held her tighter when she mirrored his desire with a low groan of her own.

The lights flashed and dimmed as he contemplated how quickly he could get her into Shelby's office without breaking the connection. Reluctantly, he pulled back, noting the dazed, gla.s.sy look in her eyes and how hard she pulled her hands around his neck. Good. He slowly tugged her panties from his pocket and tied them around his wrist. Before she realized what he'd done, he pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket, twirled them in the air, and winked.

Then he turned and ran up toward the steps of the stage, wondering why he was always running away from her and not toward her.

”Did he just wrap a pair of women's underwear around his wrist before going up on stage?”

Jami turned slowly, still in a Jax-induced haze. Her friends Ella and Gabby stood behind her. Oh s.h.i.+t, had they witnessed the whole scene play out between her and Jackson? That was exactly why she shouldn't be here. Why she had to stay away from him. He was dangerous. He made her think wearing a short denim skirt, heels, and a tiny top were good ideas. That coming to a heavy metal show in downtown Portland was a good idea. Or that letting a tattooed, pierced six-foot-four wall of narrow, twisting muscle wrap her hair around his fist in a packed bar and kiss her breathless was a good idea.

It wasn't. Not a good idea. Definitely a very bad idea.

She stared at her friends. What had Ella asked her?

Behind her, a guitar began to play a slow, pulsing melody. Soft, sweet, building to something bigger. More solid.

The steady beat of a ba.s.s drum. Then more drums.

Ella and Gabby pointed to something on the low stage behind Jami. The band. Of course, the band was starting. More specifically, Jackson's band, her client, Manix Curse, was beginning their set. Her heart dropped into her belly. She swiveled around, her eyes tracking the hundreds of hands with their fingers held up in heavy metal salute.

The lone spotlight shone down on the tall and s.h.i.+rtless Marco Dane as he tossed back his mane and bellowed to the sky about the cruelty of love. His perfect torso was already glossy with the sheen of sweat. But it was the tall, rangy man beating the drums with feral efficiency that made her blood boil with prurient l.u.s.t. His head hung low, but his short, messy hair was already dark with sweat despite the fans circulating air around the stage. Conner leaned into a mic in front of Mandi and they joined the chorus.

Jami watched in awe, mesmerized by the pure, raw power of the four band members and how seamlessly, yet viciously, they tore apart and reconstructed the song. She'd never seen anything like it. Never heard any band with such vitality and brutality and, yet, a dash of melody. Even in her wilder youth, when she'd snuck into every concert and club possible, she'd never seen anything quite like Manix Curse.

Not one for crowds or other people actually touching her, Jami barely registered the audience members pus.h.i.+ng into her, clamoring for a closer look at Manix Curse. Or even the couple of losers that attempted gropes before Ella-or she a.s.sumed it was Ella-slapped away a restless, errant hand.

The band abruptly ended their song and the crowd went wild, screaming their names and favorite songs into the chaos.

Marco laughed-or growled, more accurately-into the mic and the women in the crowed squealed. ”You guys here to see Manix Curse?”

The crowd screamed louder.

”You here to rock the f.u.c.k out?”

They yelled louder still.

Then Jackson raised his head and searched the crowd. The smirk that transformed his face when his eyes locked on Jami's could only be described as wolfish. The voice in her head began to whisper again, filling her with all kinds of dark and dirty thoughts. Because gone was the laid back, easy going Jackson everyone knew. In his place was the man she'd met years before.

s.e.xy.

Dangerous.

Pure sin.

And her blood turned from liquid into steam and evaporated from her body, leaving her a hollow sh.e.l.l of need.

He flipped his sticks around his fingers in a manner that, for some unexplained reason, made her panties wet. Then he pointed one stick at her, and sure enough, her freaking panties were wrapped around his wrist like some ridiculous rock-and-roll talisman. People turned to stare at her, obviously wondering what, or who, had caught the playboy drummer's eye, but she just stared at him.

He yelled into his mic, ”One, two, and three, and four!” before breaking into a fast-paced beat. His long arms moved so quickly she could barely keep up with his movements, except for the flexing and undulating of the well-defined muscles in his shoulders.

Lord above, the man was sheer muscle and raw s.e.x.

When an elbow flew past her head and nearly hit her temple, she realized her friends were trying to drag her out of the way of the mosh pit that had opened up like a tempestuous storm in the middle of the club. She let them lead her to the edge of the crowd.

Gabby turned to her, her cheeks pink and her green eyes wide. ”Dude, what the f.u.c.k was that?”