Jax (Cocky Cage Fighter Series) Read online

  "Because all it will take is another little push or two from you and he'll break. According to him, he hasn't fucked anyone in like two weeks. That's ten times as long as his previous record. Flash a little tit and ass, flirt with him. Hell, flirt with other dudes and I guarantee he's gonna snap."

  "So you're saying I should keep making a fool of myself?"

  "You're not making a fool of yourself. If he wasn't attracted to you and you kept at it that would be sort of sad. But I'm telling you, Page, he's more fragile than glass when it comes to giving into you."

  "Well, here goes nothing," I say to Jude with a smile when we finally reach Jax.

  …

  Jax

  I watch as Jude and Page take their sweet ass time getting through the waves. Despite Jude's assurance this morning that there's nothing going on with him and her, I can't help that familiar jealousy from rearing its ugly head.

  "It's nice out here," Page says when she's only a few feet away. She's close enough that I can see her bikini through the murky chest-deep water, a skimpy purple one today.

  Jude goes into back floating mode, which is easy to do here where the water's calm.

  Page ducks all the way under the water and surfaces, adjusting the cups of her bikini. Her hair is braided in two ponytails today, and rather than make her look young and innocent she's so fucking hot she could be posing for a goddamn Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. My cock is throbbing painfully under my thin board-shorts. It's been so long for me, and she is just so fucking sexy.

  I'm lost in my own head imagining running my tongue down her wet neck and in between her heavy tits when I'm hit with a face full of gritty saltwater. I swipe my palm over my face and look up to find Page laughing. I've been dying to get my hands on her, and she might as well have just sent me an invitation.

  "You can swim, right, rich girl?" I ask her.

  "Yes. I mean no. No, I can't." She shakes her head and lies unconvincingly while backing away.

  I dive into the five feet of water and jerk her legs out from under her, pulling her down until her ass hits the sandy ocean floor. Page's hands shoot out, reaching for something to hold on to and finding my shoulders. She squirms and fights for a few seconds, pushing against me until she's back on her feet again.

  When I resurface I expect her to look pissed. Instead she's actually smiling as she wipes the water from her eyes. I know it's a bad idea, and that I'm playing with fire, but I can't resist this. Flirting with her. Touching her. I'm a goner.

  I lurch forward, scooping Page up in my arms. "Hey, Jude. Catch," I yell to him and then toss her in his direction. She lands with a squeal and a big splash right in front of him. Before she can get to her feet Jude grabs her up and throws her back to me. She lands with such force on this fall that the back of her bikini comes untied. Two triangles of purple fabric float to the surface of the murky water, leaving her bare breasts behind. Now all that holds her top on is the strings tied at her neck.

  I jump in front of Page, blocking Jude's view, as well as anyone else who happens to be watching from the shore before she flashes them. I'm only a foot away from her and can clearly see the outline of her pale titties even through the distorted reflection of the water. God I'd give anything to reach out and touch them. My hands would only need to move forward just a little bit. Oh, but then my mouth would be jealous and need a taste.

  "Um, Page?" I say, unable to look away.

  "What you jerk?" she asks with a teasing tone.

  "Your top," I tell her.

  She glances down and gasps before submerging herself lower into the water.

  Why did I tell her? Oh yeah, because it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and I didn't want her flashing the entire Jersey shore.

  "Crap! Will you retie it for me?" she asks, spinning around and presenting her back to me.

  I reach for the two floating strings, and unfortunately, tug them back into a bow for her.

  "Thanks," she says, swimming away out to sea like she's embarrassed. Honestly it's not much more than what she showed me last night when she took her shirt off in her room.

  "No one saw anything," I assure her.

  "Saw what?" Jude asks when he swims closer.

  "My top came undone," Page tells him.

  "Well damn. How the hell did I miss that?" he whines.

  Page shakes her head and flashes me a smile as she swims backwards. She stops suddenly, belting out a scream before yelling, "Son of a bitch!"

  Since the woman never curses it must be something bad. She starts swimming frantically back toward me and Jude. "Go back! Watch out! Fucking jellyfish!"

  Oh shit! She must've been stung by one of the bastards.

  "Where did it get you?" I ask when she makes it back to us, her face scrunched in pain.

  "Lower back...and leg," she says between pants.

  "Is it bad?" I ask, although I know it's a stupid question as soon as it leaves my mouth.

  "God yes."

  "Are the tentacles still stuck in you?" Jude asks. I have no idea what the hell he's talking about. He must've seen some shit about jellyfish on the Discovery Channel or something.

  "I don't know!" Page exclaims. "I can't see it!"

  "She probably needs to go to an urgent care and get checked out," he says to me as we head back to the shore. "You gonna take her?"

  "Damn right," I respond to his question, making it clear that I'll take care of her and we don't need his help.

  "Hey, I don't need to see a doctor! I'm fine. It's just a little burn," she says, and then she stumbles in the knee high waves, worse than when she was drinking the night before. "Okay a lot of burn, but I'm sure it'll stop hurting in a few minutes."

  Jude and I exchange a look that says we're not convinced. I start to reach for Page to pick her up but want to avoid the area that's hurting. "Which side is the sting on?" I ask.

  "Um, the right. Why?" she asks. Instead of answering, I simply show her by grabbing her up on the left side with an arm under her knees and the other around her upper back.

  "Ow!" Page says with a wince.

  "Did I hurt you?" I ask her.

  "No, it just...hurts."

  "You're not going to bitch and tell me to put you down because you can walk?" I ask her, as I head to where we've set up camp on the shore and my dad is still sitting.

  Page shakes her head no, and then surprises me when she snakes her arms tightly around my neck to hold on.

  "Damn, then you must be in serious pain."

  "It's better now," she says, and when I glance down she's smiling up at me, her face only inches away from mine.

  "Jude, did she really get stung?" I tease, holding her bottom up higher for him to examine her back and leg.

  "Goddamn!" he mutters. "That looks like hell, Page."

  "Yeah, and it feels like it, too, thank you very much," she replies, actually sticking her tongue out at me.

  "Apparently it also makes you act like a five-year-old," I joke when we make it back to our chairs and towels. "Or maybe that's your braids."

  "Here," my dad stands up from his lounge chair, grabs my black Baltimore Ravens hat from my pile of things, and says, "If you're going to touch her, at least try not to be so damn obvious."

  I bend my knees, so he can put it on my head, and then he slides my dark sunglasses on my face.

  "Good thing you don't have any distinguishable tattoos to give your identity away," Page says, eyeing my chest closely like there might be a microscopic one hidden that she's somehow missed.

  "Not a one. I'm scared of needles," I tell her honestly, making her laugh. "And that information better remain attorney-client privileged."

  "You could easily kill a man with your bare hands, but tiny little needles scare you?" she asks with a smile. Just the thought of the damn instruments makes me shiver.

  Once Page is handed her beach bag and my wallet's thrown inside it, I slip on my flip flops and we start heading to the front of the hotel. I'm pretty sure there
's an urgent care just right down the road. Doubt we'll even need a taxi.

  "So what else are you scared of, tough guy?" Page asks after I carry her a few minutes in silence.

  I debate whether or not to admit my other fear. But when I look down at her warm, cobalt blue eyes I know I'd confess anything to this woman. Well, almost anything. I sure as hell can't tell her that I want her too.

  "I'm claustrophobic," I tell her. "I can tolerate elevators as long as they're well ventilated, you know, not hot and stuffy. But if it's only a few flights, I'd rather take the stairs. Nothing worse that tiny boxes being held by a fucking string."

  "Oh God. I'm sorry, Jax," she says in understanding, burying her face in my neck. I'd almost swear I felt her lips press against my skin. The woman is trying her best to break me. "Was it really bad? Those days you were in jail?" she asks.

  I shrug, refusing to admit I'd freaked out like a pussy. "The county lock up back home wasn't so bad, but the one here? Nasty and hot as fuck. Instead of sleeping on a mat laid out on the grungy floor I slept standing up against the wall all night. Well, what little I did sleep. Thankfully I was only there for one night and my dad posted my bond the next morning."

  "No wonder you were so angry that afternoon," she says softly, and I assume she means the day we met. "And you really don't want to go back, do you?" she asks as I cross a street, now only a block away from the urgent care on the corner.

  "Fuck no I don't. That's why I've got an incredibly smart and very expensive attorney."

  "What if I let you down? Maybe we should bring someone else on until Ryan's trial finishes up. He said he could be tied up a few more weeks."

  "You're not going to let me down," I tell her, and watch as she chews on her bottom lip with unnecessary worry. "That's maybe the only thing in my life that I'm actually certain of."

  "But-" she starts.

  "But nothing," I interrupt her, and then pull open the door to the clinic. I carry Page in and sit her down in a plastic chair while I go to the front desk to check her in.

  "Hi," the young woman in scrubs says to me with a smile while blatantly ogling me. I've kept my glasses and hat on to cover at least part of my face. "We normally require shirts, but I think we can make an exception to that policy for you."

  "Ah, thanks. We were just out swimming in the ocean when she got stung by a jellyfish," I explain, nodding over to Page.

  "Oh," the nurse says, her facing falling when she sees the beautiful woman I just carried in. "She'll need to fill out these forms, and then the doctor should be able to see you soon."

  "Thanks," I say, accepting her offered clipboard that holds a stack of papers and has a pen attached with a metal string.

  "Here, they need you to fill all this out," I tell Page, handing it off to her.

  She nods and takes the forms to start completing them. I look over her shoulder and see that her birthday is December twentieth, which is about the crappiest time for one. She's allergic to penicillin and mold. She had her tonsils taken out when she was eight-years-old, and she takes anti-anxiety and antidepressant medications every day. So she really has been diagnosed as being high strung. Once she checks all the little boxes and signs her name fifteen times I take the forms back to the lady at the front, and then we wait.

  Every few minutes Page continues to wince like she's in pain while we sit in the hard plastic chairs. I'm about to go bitch about them taking forever when they finally call her back. As soon as I stand up beside her, she holds out her palm. "I'm pretty sure I can walk that far."

  I motion for her to go for it, walking slowly behind her. It's the first chance I've had to get a good look at her sting, and it's something else. Red wavy whelps cover a section of her lower back and around her side, with more of the same under her right butt cheek, that yes, I also checked out. Damn. No wonder she's in pain.

  After they confirm with her that she doesn't mind me tagging along, they check her blood pressure, which is a little high at one-twenty-eight over ninety. The nurse assures us it’s probably due to the pain. Page's temperature is normal, and she weighs a hundred and twenty-six pounds.

  Page lays flat on her stomach on the exam table after the nurse leaves us alone in a room. With nothing but her tiny strings holding up her top, and the small triangle covering her perfectly curved ass, I'm about to lose my shit. I sit down in the plastic chair and apply pressure to my rising cock, doing more harm than good. Now it's just springing back up looking for more attention.

  Unable to take the temptation any longer, I jump out of my seat. Under the pretense of looking at her injury I stand right beside her ass and trail my fingertips along the sting imprints, careful not to actually touch them. Page squirms and cold chill bumps raise under the tips of my fingers. "Cold?" I ask her.

  "No," she replies. She doesn't tell me to stop touching her, so I don't. Hell, I know she wants my hands on her, and it's a goddamn shame I can't take things further. Well, maybe a little further won't hurt anything.

  ...

  Page

  Oh for the love of all that is holy, what is that man doing? I mean, not that I want him to stop. I'm barely suppressing my groans because the skin to skin contact feels so good, but I'd also like to know what the heck he's doing. Is this what Jude meant? That I'm finally wearing him down?

  Jax has been acting differently today. Not in the weird, this is awkward because I turned you down way either. No, it's more like a sensitive side to him I've never experienced. And I was shocked to find out that this normally tough, arrogant, angry man is scared of needles and small spaces. Now I have even more motivation to make sure he's not found guilty by a jury so that he won't get an active prison sentence.

  Pushing those unhappy thoughts aside, I close my eyes to savor this amazingly intimate experience. Jax's massive lethal hand gliding a path so soft and gentle along my spine and down my leg. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. But wait. He said he didn't want me. Is he just horny and I'm the only available option?

  Ugh. I don't like that thought at all. I don't have much time to ruminate on that though, because Jax finds a way to distract me. On an up pass his feather light touch moves to the inside of my thigh, and I almost hyperventilate.

  "You're leaving a wet spot on the table," he says.

  "Huh?" I ask. Am I so aroused it's leaking out? I look down at the white paper covering the exam table. Of course he's referring to my still soggy bathing suit. "Haha," I mutter, relaxing my body back down.

  Jax's finger is grazing along the outer seam of my bikini bottom when there's a knock on the door. He jerks his hand away like I've managed to sting him.

  "Miss Davenport?" a woman's voice asks.

  "Oh, um, hey," I say, starting to get into a sitting position.

  "No stay where you are, so I can get a good look," she says, and I hear the snap of gloves. "I'm Dr. Bailey, and...Well, hello there."

  Of course she's checking out Jax.

  "Hi, how's it going?" he asks and she giggles. The doctor, a woman who spent years in medical school, is actually giggling like a little girl. You'd think he asked her to strip down naked instead of offering a neutral greeting. It reminds me of Joey from Friends being able to just say "How you doin'?" to make women swoon.

  I yelp and jump out of my skin when the woman actually touches the sting!

  "You okay?" Jax asks when he comes to stand up by my head.

  "Uh-huh," I answer. And, oh yes, he's a very nice distraction from the pain. I'll just memorize the indentations of his six pack of abs while the doctor pokes and prods me. Ah, and those lovely cuts of muscle that travel down underneath the low waistband of his board-shorts forming a V. I want to follow those two beautiful lines home.

  Jax squats down so that he's eye level with me, resting his forearms on the exam table. I reach out and pull his sunglasses off, wanting to actually see his midnight eyes. His gorgeous face is even better than his sculpted muscles.

  "Now you just ruined my secret identity," h
e tells me with a wide, panty-wetting smile.

  "I think you're safe from all your fan girls in here," I respond. "Mostly."

  "Well, it looks like there aren't any tentacles left behind," the doctor says. "I'm going to apply some vinegar and then we'll need to use a razor to shave the area, making sure to remove any remaining nematocysts."

  "What the fuckocysts?" Jax asks, making me and the doctor both laugh. "And you won't have to use any, ah, needles will you?"

  "No needles, and nematocysts are the jellyfish's poisonous cells that activate their venom," she says before she opens the door and gives instructions to the nurse. A few minutes later vinegar is poured on my back and upper thigh. Then the sadist runs the razor with no shaving cream over the raised stings!

  "Ah God," I groan and press my forehead against my folded arms. I feel Jax's palms rubbing up and down them before he squeezes my hand. I hold onto him while the evil woman works her dull blade all the way down my burning lower back and side, to the skin below my bottoms. When I feel liquid poured over it again I assume it's over, thank goodness.

  "All set. You may need some hydrocortisone cream to rub on the areas once or twice a day until it heals."

  "Great," I say sarcastically.

  "Give this to them out front and they'll take care of you," the doctor tells us quickly, papers rustling. "You might want to stay out of the ocean for a few days." The door opens and then quickly shuts again.

  I move into a sitting position, letting my legs dangle off the side of the table before trying to ease my weight down on the sore area near my upper thigh.

  "Frick," I huff as I finally accomplish my goal. I'm about to jump down, but then Jax is suddenly there in front of me. His big warm hands spread my legs apart to wedge his body between them. I gasp when I feel his hard, thick length press between my thighs. Only two very thin pieces of fabric keep us from finding out how well his enormous key will fit into my throbbing lock. Oh and I bet he'd slide right in, even if it would require a minute to adjust to all of his size.

  My greedy hands automatically reach for his sculpted stomach while his continue sliding forward up the top of my thighs. When I look up into his beautiful face, his dark eyes are filled with need. Need for me or just...any woman?