Wicked Gentleman Page 12

  “I’m not avoiding you,” I replied, returning my eyes to the grid sheet in front of me.

  I registered the sound of my door catching in the latch. From the corner of my eye I watched as he placed a muffin onto my desk.

  “What’s this?”

  “A muffin.”

  “I know that, I mean what is it doing on my desk?”

  “Consider this my peace offering.”

  “I was unaware of a war. Unless we’re talking Game of Thrones and winter is coming. In that case I can talk GoT all day long.”

  His finger pressed to my lips. “You’re babbling and that muffin is breakfast.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Then what the hell was all the war and peace talk about?”

  “Let’s just say that I have a feeling that you’re avoiding me, because of the sex, the incredible sex we had in my office and the sex we could be having right now.”

  I felt the blush in my cheeks rise. “Tempting offer, but to be clear, I’m not avoiding you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, sliding a piece of paper across the surface of my desk. “Here’s another tempting offer, this is the alarm code and directions to my home.”

  My fingers smoothed over the paper, and Jax pulled a silver key from his pocket placing it next to the piece of paper. “House key, in case there is a problem with the code.”

  Before I could say anything, Jax brought his hand to my hair and crushed his lips to mine. Our mouths moving together in sync and my hands fisted into his hair.

  I pulled back. “See this was what I was trying to avoid. No kissing in the office. No making googly eyes in the office and definitely no sex in the office. Those are my terms.”

  “Googly eyes?”

  I waved my hand at him. “You know what I mean. I can’t resist those eyes of yours and . . . and I can’t think now because you’ve kissed me and I have a lot of work to do, so kissing in the office is a big no, no.”

  A slow sexy smile spread across his lips. “Fair enough. I accept your terms.”

  “Good, I’m glad we agree. Now tell me about this,” I said, tapping my pen to the paper.

  “You can use the key or the code any time that you like, even if I’m out of town and you just want to take a dip in my pool.”

  I didn’t say anything. Words seemed to escape me and forget about having a rational thought. Then he smiled at me, and suddenly the words came. “Thank you and I’d really like that.”

  “I’d love to see you later if you’re free.”

  “I have plans tonight, but maybe this weekend?”

  “I’m late for a budget meeting.” Jax leaned over the front of my desk. “This would be the part where I’d kiss you goodbye and tell you to have a good rest of the day, but the treaty is iron clad.”

  Before I could think or blink, Jax slipped out of my office and I was alone. Sagging into my chair, I tossed my pen onto the desk. Heat, lust, passion, call it what you wanted. Every time that Jax kissed me, it reminded me of butterflies. That feeling never grew old and it clung to every cell in my body.

  There was something wonderfully wicked knowing that I had Jax’s alarm code and the key to his house in my purse. After a long week adjusting to a new job, the comforts of Jax’s house sounded like heaven. Much better than this techno club with overpriced, watered down drinks that Megyn’s friend, Angela, insisted we hit up for a night out. Megyn axed Beau and she was ready to dance the night away. That basically translated as: Megyn would like to get drunk and make out with some hot dude.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, as he continued pouring shots for another patron.

  “I need a lemon drop martini, a cosmo, and a glass of chardonnay. House is fine.”

  “You don’t want to try one of our Halloween cocktails tonight?”

  “No thanks, maybe later.”

  Glancing around I wondered why Angela wanted to come to this place. It was a new club that had opened at one of the hotels on the beach. There wasn’t anything special about the place—it looked like any other bar with loud blaring music and colorful lights zipping around.

  After I paid for our drinks, I made my way through the crowd, trying desperately not to spill the drinks. It wasn’t as crowded as I anticipated for a Friday night or an opening week, but then again it was early.

  “Here you go, ladies,” I announced, setting the drinks on the high top table.

  Angela and Megyn were deep in conversation something about Beau sleeping with a hostess from the restaurant where they worked. I sipped my wine and tried to listen to their conversation, but truthfully I’d lost interest in the drama. Enthusiasm for girl’s night out was lost on me tonight. My mind was anywhere but here, and admittedly club hopping wasn’t my thing. If that made me sound old, I didn’t care.

  Half a pitcher of margaritas later, both Megyn and Angela were shaking it on the dancefloor. I switched to vodka needing something stronger to endure this night in which I was notably the third wheel. Earlier I tried to say goodnight, but Megyn begged me to stay and do shots with them. I didn’t partake because I didn’t want to be sick in the morning. Yoga was calling my name.

  They kept trying to coax me onto the dancefloor and each time I declined. Sitting on the outside watching as guys rubbed up on the two of them made my stomach turn, or perhaps it was the booze.

  From behind me I heard chants and singing, I turned around and a sugary sweet concoction sloshed and spilled down my arm splashing onto my skirt. Glancing up I saw a red head wearing a pink glittery tiara and the button on her white dress said: “Buy Me a Shot I’m Tying the Knot.”

  “Oh my God, girl, I am so sorry. First, you have to let me take care of this stain on your skirt. Second, I’m replacing your drink.”

  “Please, it’s no trouble,” I replied, pushing to my feet. “I can just take care of it in the ladies room.”

  “No arguments. Sit your butt back down on that stool.” She was methodic in her tone ordering her bridesmaids to hand her club soda, a soft cloth and something else. It was like watching a surgeon at work. “What are you drinking, doll?” she asked, dabbing at the spot on my skirt.

  “Something called a Smoked Pumpkin. It’s one of the specialty cocktails.”

  She then proceeded to announce to someone named Kia, to grab another martini as well as my drink.

  “Would you ladies like to sit with me?” I asked, motioning to the empty barstools.

  “We would love to,” she answered, setting her purse on the table. “I’m Kim and as you can tell I’m getting married.”

  Smiling and clapping in between a litany of appreciative thank yous, the rest of the Kim’s friends ditched their jackets and party favors at the table and then made their way to the bar.

  “Stevie, and congratulations, when is the big day?”

  “Two weeks from tomorrow.” She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and that’s when I noticed the ring.

  “Oh my God,” I yelped, grabbing her hand and gazing at the sparkling diamond.

  “Here you go, Kim,” Kia chirped, placing our drinks in front of us. “Anything else?”

  “No,” she blurted, rolling her eyes. “Go away. Go drink. Go dance.”

  My eyes popped wide, but I couldn’t help but laugh when Kim turned back to face me smiling.

  “Annoying—A F.” She sipped her cocktail. “Everything is ‘penis this’ and ‘penis that’ and it’s so tacky. I just wanted a nice bridal brunch—bottomless mimosas and plenty of food. Kia, she’s my sister, insisted on a stripper, a limo, and all this garish shit.”

  I shrugged. “It sounds like she just wanted to make it special for you.”

  “She means well, I know that, but I think this would be her ideal last hurrah party if she was the one getting married.” She plucked an item from her purse. “Penis straws? Seriously, who knew this was still a thing?”

  I laughed as Kim waved the plastic phallic with misshaped balls in my face. “Penis cupcakes, condom
corsages, and penis jello shots,” she rattled on swirling the lemon slice in her glass. “Ughh, I am so sick of me already, I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over, at least the wedding part. I’m looking forward to the marriage part, but first the honeymoon.”

  “And where is the honeymoon?”

  “Aruba. Sun, fun, surf, and sand—just the two of us for ten days.”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  I hadn’t had a vacation in a long time, but when you live in Florida with beaches surrounding you, it was hard to think about planning a getaway. I couldn’t afford Europe. At this point my next vacation might just be my honeymoon, and that is even if I end up getting married.

  She bumped my arm. “So what brings you out tonight?”

  “My roommate ditched her guy, I guess she caught him cheating and so here we are drinking and dancing the night away.” I lifted my glass in Megyn and Angela’s direction on the dancefloor.

  “And after a long week you’ve had enough of it. What would you rather be doing?”

  “Honestly, I’d rather be binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating my way through a pint of double fudge ice cream . . .” I hesitated for a moment not wanting to overshare. “Or spending the evening with the guy I’ve been seeing.”

  I had mixed feelings about ditching my girlfriends for a guy. I’d never been that girl, but somehow here I sat wanting to be with him instead hanging out with them.

  “Oh, there’s a guy?” Kim lifted her brows. “Tell me more.”

  “It’s a new-ish relationship. He’s smart, he makes me laugh and he’s very sexy.”

  “And how is the sex?”

  “Really amazing, incredibly super-hot,” I admitted.

  “Good for you.” She tipped her glass to mine. “Jared and I agreed to a ‘no sex until the wedding night’ pact. I understand the sentiment, but now I’m re-thinking it all.” She paused to take a drink. “You should get out of here and go have amazing, incredible super-hot sex.”

  “And just ditch my roommate? No, I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Your roommate is grinding up on some guy, and she hasn’t been over here since I sat down. Look at her, she’s having a good time. Go tell her goodbye and let’s get you to your guy. Besides one of us should be having sex.”

  Kim rallied her bride tribe while I shimmied through the small crowd on the dance floor to tell Megyn that I was leaving. Megyn was at that level where she was coming off her buzz and the two of them were responsibly hydrating with bottles of water. Apparently the guys they were dancing with were work friends, which made me feel less guilty about cutting out early.

  “Ready?” Kim asked, looping her arm with mine.

  “Yep.”

  We walked outside and a limo pulled up to the valet stand. I was about to ask for a cab, but Kim told me to get inside.

  I gave the driver the address and listened as Kim and Kia discussed what bar they should hit next. The conversation teetered between choosing a tiki bar or an out of the way quiet dive bar.

  “My friend, Krystle, is the bartender at Quench,” I chimed in. “They have great coconut shrimp and you need the loaded fries in your life. The juke box is filled with Jimmy Buffett, the beer is ice cold and the rum drinks are a specialty. Just tell Krystle ‘Stevie sent you’ and she will hook you up.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Kim said, and the others nodded in agreement.

  A few moments later the limo came to a stop. “O-M-G, is this your house?” Kia asked pressing her hand to the glass.

  Unable to speak, I stared up at the massive structure, my eyes darting from the wood to the concrete to the glass. I didn’t know how to describe the sleek beauty of his home.

  “This is where her man lives.”

  The door opened and I barely registered the sound of Kim’s voice. Hugging her, I wished her tons of wedding day happiness. After saying goodbye to the rest of the ladies, I stepped out of the limo and practically skipped up the stairs to the front door.

  As I fished the key out of my purse, I heard them chanting and cheering. Laughing, I turned back and whispered yelled for them to keep it down.

  Kim waved and then disappeared behind the glass. I watched until the taillights faded into the night. For a moment I hesitated as I tried pushing the key into the lock. My body swayed a bit as I peered through the door’s side window. I didn’t have that much to drink, did I? Leaning against the doorframe I recounted how many drinks I had over the course of the evening—definitely not enough alcohol that I’d be drunk, or even tipsy. It had to be nerves.

  “Are you going to stand there all night or come inside?”

  Startled I jumped and then looked up for a camera or intercom. “I was thinking about coming . . . inside.”

  The door opened and there stood Jax with a pleased expression. “You better get in here.”

  “Hi,” I said, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “So you changed your mind about coming over tonight?”

  Nodding, my fingers scraped lightly up the back of his neck. My ears perked up at the sound of running water. My gaze travelled up a large wall made of glass and brick to a sleek waterfall feature. It was gorgeous, and the sound was soothing.

  “Would you give me the grand tour?” I asked, motioning around the well-lit space.

  He led me through the foyer and my jaw hit the floor. I didn’t know what to focus on first, the huge colorful mural that hung above the rectangular fireplace. The ginormous plush grey sectional sofa adorned with deep plum, burnt orange and steel blue decorative pillows. The hues obviously mirrored the mural.

  Then I caught sight of his bar and the entire wall of wine enclosed behind a glass wall. This led my eyes upward, taking in the soaring ceilings only to find more glass and wood that surrounded the railing. The entire house was work of art, it wasn’t overly masculine. My fingertips brushed over the couch, as I admired every straight line and angle. This was the ideal bachelor pad—simple design with robust details that made it warm and inviting.

  “Impressive.” I placed my purse onto the table behind the couch. “My entire apartment could fit inside this living space.”

  “You’re welcome to fit inside here anytime.”

  I rolled my eyes. “As much as I love your pervy innuendos, that wasn’t very good.”

  His hands fell to my waist, as his lips ghosted over mine. “Guess I’ll just have to take you to bed and work on my innuendos.”

  “I’m perfectly fine with good old-fashioned dirty talk.” His hands worked the buttons on my white shirt.

  “Noted.”

  Climbing the stairs, Jax took my hand in his. We had to walk around the upstairs to get to his bedroom on the other side of the house, since it was an open-air concept design. Once we reached the master suite, Jax busied himself with the task of stripping me out of my clothes.

  I steadied myself as I slipped out of my heels, and I had an excellent view of Jax pulling his grey Henley tee over his sculpted shoulders. It wasn’t my only spectacular view. The ocean was spread before me with twinkling lights bouncing off the waves.

  “I’m glad that you’re here,” he said, discarding his dark jeans on the chair where his shirt lay.

  “Me too,” I admitted.

  “I missed you.” He approached, threading his fingers through my hair.

  “Me too.”

  I AWOKE IN A HAZE from a dream drenched in sweat. Jax slept peacefully next to me. Careful not to disturb him, I eased out of the bed and then walked to the doorway scooping up my underwear and bra along the way.

  Shuffling down the hallway to the guest bathroom, bits and pieces of the dream came into view. It was one of those dreams straight out of a Lifetime movie, the one where the girl marries the guy only to find out he has some mysterious past filled with dark secrets. A total cliché.

  I pulled my panties up over my hips and then clasped my bra. It dawned on me that I barely knew the man that I had been sleeping with these pas
t few weeks. Turning on the faucet, my brain went into overdrive thinking about Jax as a possible serial killer or a polygamist hiding in plain sight. It was entirely possible that the reason he acquired several hotel properties all over the country was because that’s where his other wives lived.

  As I dried my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. “You need to stop drinking vodka. You have crazy dreams when you drink vodka.”

  While statistically the chance that Jax was a serial killer, or married to multiple wives, was low, at six-thirty on a Saturday morning it gave me just enough cause to bolt and fast. I plodded down the stairs and found my dress, shoes and handbag. Fishing out my phone, I called a cab and then finger combed out my hair, applied some lip gloss making myself look less walk of shame-ish.

  When the text from the cab company appeared, I slipped out the door. In my mind I decided that this wasn’t running away, I was gaining some perspective. There was only one person who could give me perspective.

  After a shower and a quick change I hopped in my car and headed towards Amelia City. I stopped off for a coffee and fresh flowers. The coffee was for me, the flowers were for Gran.

  Jax: Where did you go?

  I stared at the text message thinking of something to say that didn’t sound insane. As I pulled onto the road that led to the cemetery, I came up with a few responses. The drive gave me a lot of time to think about how silly I’d been leaving. I knew that I could talk to Jax. After all he was an adult. My behavior on the other hand resembled nothing of adulthood.

  Me: Home for clean clothes. I had an appointment this morning.

  Jax: A work appointment?

  Me: No. Personal matter.

  Jax: Will you be coming back? I wasn’t finished with you.

  Me: Is that what you’d like?

  Jax: Yes, I would like that very much.

  Me: In that case you’ll be seeing me in about an hour or so.

  I slipped my phone into my purse and headed down the path to Gran’s grave. Dusting off the headstone, I forced all the sexy time thoughts from my mind. I replaced the dying peach roses with an assortment of orange, yellow and red mums.