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Urgh, this man!
But I know there’s an element of truth in his goading. He doesn’t need this as much as I do. I haven’t figured out my next step yet but this marriage is conveniently delaying me explaining to my parents that I have blown up my life in the last few weeks. That everything they strove to give me as a child, everything I worked so damn hard for, has gone to crap.
“Time out, guys,” Tray says, cutting through the bolts of lightning Jax and I are firing at each other across the table. “I think this fiery banter might be underlying sexual tension but to the rest of this room, you’re going to give the game away. So for both your sakes, tone it down, yeah?”
I loathe myself as the words are leaving my mouth but still, they come… “He started it.”
Jax bellows out a laugh, leaning so far back in his chair, I think he’ll fall off it.
That would be nice.
Imagining him falling on his ass is enough to have me fighting back a smile as I pack up my things, including my lunch plate.
“Ah, come on, wifey, shall we hug it out?” Jax torments. Actually, I would quite like a strong pair of arms to give me a cuddle right now. But obviously, I tell him, “Absolutely not.”
Which only makes him laugh harder. Purse on my shoulder, I give him a sickly sweet smile as I come to stand by his side. “Thanks for coming to sit with me, darling.”
“Anytime, baby.”
Then he catches my breath as his firm hand cups the small of my back and we have to decide how to end this – do we have a quick peck for appearance’s sake?
No. I’m here as a professional, even if my body is raising goosepimples it has no business raising in response to his touch. In fact, my legs feel slightly wobbly – perhaps my blood sugar is low or something – so I drop a hand to his shoulder to steady myself.
“I’ll see you shortly, where I can teach you how to behave like a grown-up for the cameras,” I tell him.
He mutters something about being a man and bedrooms and being childish outside of it. I can string those words together and guess that he has little intention of ever growing up.
I lean down to his ear and whisper, “Incidentally, you may remove your hand from my person because, per the rules, PDA is only acceptable when there are recording devices.”
It was an error because he smells deeply masculine, a mix of his cologne and a surprisingly pleasant athletic musk that does something low down in my abdomen. Too low.
“What’s wrong, Sienna, are you worried you won’t be able to control yourself around me?”
Our noses are almost touching, eyes locked, his hand still on the small of my back, dangerously low. “Please,” I tell him. “After being engaged to Carl in recent months, I’ve become best friends with my right hand and favorite toy.”
His eyes darken, hoods heavy. One, nothing to me.
When he speaks, his words are low and coarse. “First, that’s a fucking tragedy. Second, you admit you’ll be getting yourself off over me, then?”
I scowl as his lips turn up. One all. Then I turn to leave, glancing back to the room, to make sure our little showdown was quiet enough to keep our secret from being revealed to everyone outside the Vegas Circle of Trust.
But when I do, my search only finds one face, one pair of wildly dark eyes, and they’re looking right back at me. My husband is really, annoyingly beautiful.
And for the moments I was sparring with him, I forgot that my parents want to visit and my ex-fiancé has, unsurprisingly, caught wind of my Nevada nuptials.
I was too concerned with asking myself whether I am as in control of this situation as I think. After a long time of not being taken care of by a man between the sheets, Jax’s slightest touch has me practically trembling. Can I control myself around him?
15
SEPTEMBER
Sienna
My Way or the Highway
I’m standing at the front of a small lecture theatre – large screen on the board behind me, rows of chairs with desks on an incline all facing me. I’ve done my prep – and floated it by Mitch (who is still refusing to take things completely easy while he recovers) – but I’m still nervous as the players start filing into the space.
My new team consists of Carter, Bianca, Yuki and Fellini, and they’re all in the room with me. For the most part supportive and I think accepting of my temporary position. The socials girlies have complimented my outfit from head to toe and everything in between and I’ve done the same in return. Girl code: we like each other. I have a feeling I’m going to have issues with Carter, though. My summation from the filthy scowls he’s been sending my way every time we’re in the same space today is that he feels as if he should have been the one to fill Mitch’s big shoes until my friend is back on his feet. It looked like Carter was physically in pain – or constipated, whichever – when he was forced to shake my hand earlier.
