JAX: A Rockstar Stepbrother Romance (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Liliana

"I think you'll see, Baron Chevreaux, that your apologies are quite useless to me."

"Is that so, my lady?" The baron's eyes darkened dangerously and suddenly Georgia's stays seemed laced too tight. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. "Then perhaps the time has come to dispense with words?"

The baron's hand moved, quick as a flash, clasping the back of her neck tightly, possessively. This was no idle tumble with the stable boy. Jasper's tentative, fumbling touch hadn't marked her skin the way the baron's was now. Each fingertip seared her with inescapable heat, burning away the weak protests that died before they formed on her lips. And all the while the baron watched her with a hunger in his eyes that was both frightening and delicious.

"Ah." His soft laughter thrilled through her, setting off an ache in her nethers. "My lady is more willing than her words would admit."

"You are an arrogant, cold-hearted bastard."

"You are correct."

My fingers raced across the keys. It was far too late and I was far too jetlagged to be wasting sleep like this, but as I seethed on the ride home from dinner, hating Jax with every ounce of my being, a knotty piece of dialogue finally unraveled itself. I had to race upstairs to my room to get it all down.

Goddamn Jax. He was inspiring, I had to give him that.

"I've desired you from the moment I saw you," the baron pressed his lips against the pulse in her neck, and Georgia fretted that he would find it racing like the beat of a hummingbird's wings. She placed her hand against his hard, warm chest, and found the throb of his heart beating nearly as rapidly. For a moment she reveled in her power. He wanted her just as much, and she had nothing to fear…

Until his lips devoured hers.

Her pride dissolved immediately, and Georgia found herself helpless against the onslaught of his mouth on hers. With a sharp stab of his tongue, he pried her lips open and began a slow, aching exploration of her mouth. Her breath quickened as she realized she was now forever marked. He was claiming her as his and she would never be the same.

He pulled back with a growl and cupped her chin in his hand. His eyes, bluer than an October sky, darkened as they bored into her. "I am not a man that sits idly by and waits for opportunity. I see what I want, and I must immediately possess it. And Georgia, I mean to have you."

She moaned futilely into his mouth as he pressed her against the wall. Georgia was trapped between the cool of the marble and the warmth of his desire. "All of you. Now."

As the baron's hand plunged underneath Lady Cunningham's skirts, I squirmed in my seat. This was going to be good. Epic, even. My thoughts focused down with crystal clarity as I wrote what Georgia wanted—fuck, what
I
wanted the baron to do to her.

Sex scenes. Sometimes I just left them for later, putting a placeholder—SEX GOES HERE—in my text and coming back when I was in the mood.

But tonight, dammit, I was in the mood. The words were just flowing.

"Tell me what you need, Georgia," the baron rasped.

Lady Cunningham's pale body writhed. The sensations were too intense, too forbidden and yet…

"More!" she cried in a voice so shatteringly loud that it was bound to send the servants running to the room. But she didn't care. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Baron Chevreaux's bruising kisses and the swell of his manhood pressing against her. What this meant for her marriage, for her future, didn't matter to her now. There were no more barriers between them, no more chances to back down now. Georgia knew she was lost and she reveled in it. "I need more!"

He pressed against her entrance and with one, smooth thrust…

BANG!

"What the fuck!" I yelped, remembering a second too late that it was way past the hour that normal people were asleep. I looked at my screen guiltily, like I had been caught with my hands in between my legs, and I was immediately pissed. That loud noise sounded just like something heavy hit the wall just outside of my doorway.

I nearly tore the door off its hinges. "What was that?" I demanded.

He turned slowly, blinking like he was having trouble focusing. His eyes were hooded sleepily and his blue hair was an electric disarray. He looked completely drunk and completely fuckable and a million thoughts raced through my head at once.

Oh, shit, it's Jax.

Oh, shit, I'm in my purple cloud pajamas.

Holy shit, he looks hot.

Holy shit… he looks pissed.

Chapter Fourteen

Jax

Punching a wall hurts like hell, usually. I know, I've done it before. But this time, the expected pain never came—and that's when I knew how drunk I was.

That made it doubly dangerous that Lil Bit was now standing in front of me, looking rumpled and breathless and sexy as hell.

"What was that?" she grumped. Her mouth was twisted in a disapproving sneer but her eyes… fuck, those wide brown eyes were shining unnaturally bright.

She looks horny, Jax.

She looks hard-up.

She wants it.

Fucking shut up!

"What was what?" I snarled at her, meaner than I meant to be, but fuck, she needed to get out of here with her sexy, rumpled hair before I got ahold of it in my hands. The music from the club still pounded in my head. That repeated fucking refrain the only thought that I could muster.

"That bang, dipshit. It sounded like you punched the fucking wall."

"Oh yeah? Must be because I punched the fucking wall." I propped myself up against her doorway and leaned my hand against it, knuckle side down. Nope, still no pain. That could be good or terribly bad. "Why are you being such a tight-ass?"

Her eyes blazed. "Better a tight-ass than an asshole."

"You wound me, Bit."
God I missed her.
"Always with the insults."

"You get your fair share in too. Like to set 'em to music too."

I had no idea what she was going on about. "Not at all. You're the one with the mouth on her."
Fuck, I was drunk
. "I like your mouth better on me…"

"Ew!" She swatted my arm.

"That's right, touch me. You're dying to touch me aren't you?"

"I'm not!"

But she was breathless and her lips were parted and I knew she was lying. That only got me more riled up. "Then I'll help you. Here," I grabbed her small hand. "I'll make first contact so you don't have to."

She pulled her hand back and folded her arms across her chest, like she wanted to keep her hands under control. Like she was afraid of what she'd do if she let go.

"What the hell are you staring at?" she demanded.

Damn, she caught me. What the hell was I doing again?

I looked around wildly, trying to force my eyes to stop darting all over the place and come to rest somewhere.

Unfortunately, I realized a second to late that they settled right on her tits.

They were hidden under those ludicrous pajamas, but that somehow made them even more tantalizing. I knew exactly how they'd feel if I snaked my hand underneath her top right now.
I wonder if she's wearing a bra?
Probably not. I could just make out the tips of her nipples pointing through the fabric.
Was she really turned on? Fuck, now I was hard.

"Jaxson, people are trying to sleep."

"You're not," I pointed out. "You look wide awake to me."

She pressed her lips together and looked shifty for a second. Guilty. What was she doing that she’d be guilty about? "I was working," she said loftily.

"Working, huh?"
Caught you, Bit.
"Writing? Were you writing one of your sexy books, Bit? Holy shit, you were. I bet you were writing a dirty scene right now and that's why you're all squirmy."

"Fuck off, Jax."

"What do you write about, Bit? You ever write about me?"

"Oh my God, you are such a cocky bastard."

"You do!" I crowed. Her blush gave it away. "What do you write about, Bit? Do you think about my body? What's your favorite part, hmm?" I reached down and grabbed her hand, expecting her to snatch it away and slap me. Hell, maybe I wanted her to slap me, derail this particular train of thought before I rode it all the way to the end.

She didn't smack me though. She shushed me. "Keep it down. Do you want the whole house to hear?"

"Mmm, maybe I do." I circled her wrist with my fingers and pulled her closer.

"What are you doing?" she asked. No, more exhaled in a soft sigh.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked. She was pressed up against me now. She fit just under my chin, perfectly. My puzzle piece. Fuck, I forgot how incredible it was just to have her near me.

"No," she wavered. "Yes. Maybe. It depends on what you're doing."

"I'm doing this," I told her.

Tipping her chin up, I let my lips brush hers. I barely fucking touched her, but it was the most electrifying kiss of my life. Lil Bit—
my
Lil Bit—was back where she belonged.

I expected her to be angry, or even to hit me. Something to rile me back up again. Aggravate me so I stopped wanting to kiss her again and again, letting my lips wander down memory lane as I rememorized the curves of her body. Like I was ever able to forget them in the first place.

"Jax…" She moaned my name into my mouth, and it was the sexiest sound I had ever heard in my life.

"Fuck, Bit. I've missed you so much."
Did I say that out loud?
I was kissing her too hard to tell. I pressed her against the wall. I needed to feel her against me, under me. Sudden clarity popped into my head as I immediately sobered up. I couldn't afford to forget this.

She wrapped her hands around my neck, her little fingers fluttering against my back, and I was gone completely. I was ready to rip her clothes off right here in the hallway and lift her tiny body right onto my cock. She was making these little sounds, tiny, mewing noises that were killing me.

Then her whole body shuddered and she pulled back.

"No." I was sure I said that out loud.

She placed her hands on my chest. For a brief moment, I was hopeful.

But then she gave me a small shove.

Then she smiled this small, patronizing smile and fucking
patted
me on the chest.

She
patted me.

"Let's be grown-ups here, Jax, okay?" she cooed in this false calm voice. "We've already done the whole horny teenager thing."

"Horny teenager thing?" I stepped back from her. My head whipsawed between drunken anger and sober sorrow. "Is that what it was to you?"

She sniffed, her little lips pressed into a thin line. "Clearly, that's exactly what it was."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She folded her arms across her chest again, her jaw tight.

"I don't believe you."

"Well, you should." Liliana shook her head. "We were kids, Jax. Puppy love and hormones. It didn't mean anything."

All the breath went out of my lungs and I sagged against the far wall. Didn't mean anything?

"Fuck you, it didn't mean anything," I muttered, staring at my shoes. For a moment everything was swimming, and I knew I would start crying like a bitch if I didn't pull myself together. I looked back up at her.

She was staring at me with pity in her eyes. Fucking pity for
me
, Jaxson Blue.

No one pities me.

"It meant a lot to you, anyway," I said slowly. Her eyes widened—God, how could they get even wider?—as she listened to the cruel words that tumbled out of my mouth. "I taught you everything you know. It was cute, really, how eager you were to learn." I wanted to hurt her. I hated that I want to hurt her. But I needed to hand her some of the pain I was feeling. "Been nice really, ever since, not having to do all that hand-holding while I'm fucking a chick. Virgins are exhausting."

She made a little noise, and for one second, I could have taken it back. But I didn't. I watched her turn her back on me and slam the door in my face.

Chapter Fifteen

Liliana

Stop crying. Why are you surprised? He's cruel. He's evil. You already knew that, so why does it bother you so much?

Berating myself wasn't helping me sleep, and neither was the crack of early morning light that was working its way up the far wall of my bedroom. Maybe I dozed a little in between bouts of recrimination, but I didn't sleep.

When my stomach growled, I finally gave up on forcing myself to sleep and just lay there. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls and my eyes were puffy and swollen.

And my cheeks were scratched from Jax’s stubble and my lips still tingled from his kiss.

I could leave. Go back home, put an entire continent between him and me once more.
It was an enticing thought.

Dammit, no. I'm not running away again. I have as much right to be here as he does, and he's not going to get to me.

Fierce.

I closed my eyes, feeling marginally more composed.

I swore I never fell asleep. But I must have. Because when I opened my eyes, Jaxson was sitting at the edge of the bed, my laptop opened in his knees. "Mornin' Bit," he said.

I sat bolt upright, yanking the covers up to my chest. "What the fuck, stalker! What are you doing here?"

He stretched like a cat in a sunbeam and shot me a lazy grin. "Waiting for you to wake up." He gestured to the laptop. "You took forever and I got bored."

My heart started hammering in terror before my lips could form the question. I gaped at him, watching his eyes dart back and forth across the screen, an amused, and frankly triumphant smile twisting his lips. "Are you seriously reading my book?" I demanded, trying to mask my horror with belligerence. "Oh my god, Invasion of privacy much?" I reached over, trying to snatch the laptop away while simultaneously clutching the blanket to my chest.

He deftly swung the laptop just out of my reach and kept on reading. "You publish these books for everyone else to read, why can't I? Besides," he tapped the screen, "I see a few things in here that might constitute an invasion of
my
privacy, Bit."

I blushed. He was reading
the sex scene.
"What are you talking about?" Though I well knew.

He licked his lips. "Well that move sure sounds awfully familiar." He swiveled and looked me full in the face and twisted the laptop so I could see. "Right here? We did that, right?"

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't look at the screen. Mortification was hitting me from every possible angle. "I guess we did, yeah. Why, you don't remember?"

He pulled the laptop back. "No. I do." His eyes went far away for a moment. Then his lip quirked slightly. "Though I don't remember it going exactly like this. 'The center of her pleasure?' Why not just call it what it is?"

"That's… more or less what it is." I bunched the blanket in my fists and contemplated pulling it over my head. "You can't be too clinical."

He rolled his eyes and kept reading. "So many euphemisms." He paused and burst out laughing. “ ’Nethers’?! Really?"

The corner of my mouth twitched involuntarily. "Yeah?"

"That's a terrible word!" he laughed.

"It's evocative!" I tried to protest, but suddenly I was laughing too.

“ ‘Nethers.’ For fuck's sake. The real words for it are so much nicer."

"The real words?"

"Yeah, you know." He shifted a little, tucking his leg under him. His warm thigh pressed against my leg. I could feel his heat even through the blanket. "Clit," he said, rolling the word through his mouth like he was tasting each letter. "Cunt."

My mouth went dry and I swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words.

He stared at me for a moment too long. No way was he going to make me admit how sexy those words sounded when he said them. It was like he was calling right to them and mine were answering with a clutch of need.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah, you think those words are better too, don't you, Lily?"

"They're too… dirty."

"Nothing's too dirty."

"Maybe not to you…"

"You either, Bit." His eyes darted down the page. "Oh my God, 'shaft'? Really? That's what you're calling it?" His hand went to his groin and I realized I was watching way too closely and quickly glanced away. "How about 'cock'? That's a much better word. Better yet, make it a pierced cock, since I remember how you liked that so much."

I ignored his jibe. "I doubt there were many pierced cocks in 19th century England, Jaxson. I was trying for a bit of historical verisimilitude."

"Yeah? Well whatever that means, I think it's too bad. Your Geraldine character seems like she would enjoy a piercing sliding against her G-spot. It would help her reach the… er… 'pinnacle of her pleasure,' faster than this lame-ass Tristan guy gets her."

I suddenly realized something. "Jax, you're like, at the end of the book. It's almost ninety thousand words. Did you even sleep?"

For the first time since I woke up, that cocky little smile slid off of his face. "Nah. Not really."

His beautiful face looked pinched too tight and the bags under his eyes were an angry looking shade of purple. My irritation melted away and I reached for him without meaning to. "Why?"

"I wanted to catch you before you woke up. So we could maybe talk about last night. Before you woke up and stormed off."

Did I say my irritation left? Never mind, it came flooding back in an instant. "Stormed off?" I repeated.

"Yeah, storming off without talking to me. It's kind of your thing," he shot back."

I flopped back down on my pillow. I couldn't believe how quickly he veered from being sweet and sexy to the most annoying person on the planet. "Oh, fuck off," I cried, pinching the bridge of my nose.

I felt him shift, lean forward. "We can, you know. All these things you wrote down…" His voice went lower. "Mmm… such vivid details, Bit. If I had known you were paying such close attention, I would have stepped up my game."

I clapped my hands over my ears. "Shut up!"

He leaned over me. I looked up at him, hovering over my bed. My breath was coming too quickly, my heart beating too rapidly. Realizing I was biting my lip, I licked them instead and his eyes went right to them. "It's given me a few ideas, frankly. How about it? Wanna do some research with me?"

His offer hung there, for one, two, three heartbeats before I finally came to my senses. I reached up and pushed him away. "Oh my God, get the fuck out of my room."

He stood up. "You never even heard why I was here."

"I don't care, get out." I flopped over to my side and waited until I heard the door close before I finally exhaled.

Chapter Sixteen

Jax

I stared at Lily's bedroom door, wondering how the fuck I had just gotten it shut on me again. I stayed up all night and into the late morning, wanting to apologize to her the minute she woke up, and yet somehow, I fucked that up as well.

Dammit, this wasn't happening again. I raised my fist to bang on the door, ready to batter it down if I had to, when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it out of my pocket, ready to hurl it down the hallway when I saw Bev's name. My heart, already in my stomach, splashed right down to my toes.

She was already talking when I pressed the green button. "… studio full of highly skilled, highly paid technicians and musicians, all getting paid to twiddle their thumbs waiting for you to show the fuck up. Where the hell are you, Jaxson?"

"I'm right around the corner," I lied, tearing down the stairs. "Calm down, Bev."

"Calm down? Do you know how much this is costing right now? Get here. Now."

"Yeah, yeah." I was sprinting down the lawn, but I didn't want her to know that. "Go take a Xanax, or something."

She hung up, but not before I heard her distinctly hiss, "Asshole."

I stopped in the middle of the lawn and stared at the phone. I had nothing ready. Bev had handled everything, booking the studio time and the musicians on nothing more than my promise that I'd have the album written by then. Then, meaning now. Today.

Fuck.

Maybe I was the flash in the pan everyone claimed I was. Maybe “Cocky” was an anomaly and I really wasn't a songwriter. Because fuck me if I'd been able to write a decent song since.

Part of me wanted to just skip it. Bail on them all and go get drunk with Annie's roadies. Pussy out and let them believe I sucked. I certainly believed it myself.

But I knew I couldn't do that. I had a reputation to maintain. Ever since “Cocky” dropped, the press wanted to see me swaggering. I wasn't allowed to fail. It would ruin everything.

I grabbed my keys and hopped into the 1985 Ferrari 288 GTO I bought myself with “Cocky” money and had painted a custom shade of electric blue. Like my hair.
Image.
I'd go to the studio and brazen it out. Fuck, maybe something would come to me on the drive.

Even I knew I was lying to myself. I was a panting wreck by the time I double-parked outside of the studio, a full hour and a half later than I was supposed to be there. Banks was standing on the sidewalk, smoking one of his hand-rolled cigarettes that smelled like dirt. I lifted my chin at him.

"You know, I honestly wouldn't give a fuck, since I get paid either way," he said coolly, letting a wreath of smoke billow around his head. "It's the fact that
I
have to
show up
to get paid." He stubbed out his cigarette against the building. "Must be fucking nice."

"Oh, give it a rest, Banks. You might think you're better than me, but who the hell is paying your bills right now, hmm?" The keyboardist my label had hired still clung to his classical training like it meant something in this world.

"Whatever. I turned down a pretty big name for this, Blue. I just want to get to work."

Bev was on the other side of the door. "You ready?" she asked crisply.

"Whaddya got for us, Blue?" Toad hopped up from the sofa in the lounge, his bass flopping around dangerously.

"Were you finalizing, or something?" Casper asked. He was trying to cover for me. I could tell. "That's why you were late?"

I nodded. "Absolutely."

"Well, everybody is ready to get down to work, Jaxson. Ready when you are."

I nodded again, feeling like I was moving upstream… or maybe caught in the undertow, the current dragging me toward that sound-proof booth with nothing to sing. I searched my head, wracking my brain for some little snippet to pull from the noisy static… but there was nothing there except a door shut in my face.

Chapter Seventeen

Liliana

Jaxson didn't come home last night.

I wished I didn't know this, but I did. I would have heard him if he had, because I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, writing like my fingers were on fire.

I wrote down exactly how the kiss felt, the press of his lips against mine, how they parted without my meaning to. How I sagged into him like I lost the ability to stand. How the bottom of my stomach dropped out like I was on a roller coaster and pleasure that was close to physical pain coursed out from every touch of his fingers on my skin. That's all that happened in the hallway—just a kiss—but on the page I was free to let it go further, just the way my body had wanted. On the page, I was licking and sucking a trail of kisses down his bare, glistening chest while his blue eyes never left mine—ah, fuck.

I swore I could feel his lips on mine a day later, like he had burned or bruised me. But that was ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous; he was going to be my fucking stepbrother in two weeks. I should fucking know better, but the minute I saw him, all of my carefully laid defenses fall apart.

I sat up from my laptop like it had scalded me. I needed to nip this train of thought in the bud. With my mind made up, I changed out of my schlubby clothes and emerged from my room.

"Mornin', Lil," Diggs croaked over his coffee. His big body was perched ludicrously on the small stool at the breakfast bar. "Didja sleep well?"

"Coffee?" I croaked back. My throat felt raw and hoarse with disuse.

"I'll take that as a no." His ruined face crinkled into a wide smile and he slid off the stool and patted it. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," I whispered and settled into the stool, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl across from me. "How about you? Did you sleep okay?"

"Like a baby," Diggs chuckled, grabbing the coffee pot. "Doctor's got me on these new pain meds and they knock me the fuck out."

"Your hand looks good!" I suddenly noticed.

"Yeah?" He smiled proudly, gripping the coffee pot in his right hand and extending his arm straight out at the shoulder. "Can barely see it anymore, can you?"

There was a ghost of a tremor, but that was it. "Wow, that's a whole lot better. You're barely shaking at all."