Page 78 of The Sin Bin

"Stay tonight?" she asked after a moment, fatigue from her surgical marathon making the thought of Jax leaving unexpectedly unappealing.

"Early practice tomorrow," he warned, though his arm curved around her shoulders with obvious willingness. "Six a.m. skate."

"I have seven a.m. rounds," Lauren countered, leaning into his solid warmth. "We're both early risers. And..." she hesitated, then continued with deliberate casualness, "I sleep better when you're here."

The simple admission seemed to catch Jax off guard, his expression softening as he studied her face. "Me too," he acknowledged quietly, the two words carrying significance beyond their brevity.

Jax leaned in, his kiss gentle but insistent, and Lauren sank against him. His hand cradled her face, thumb tracing her cheekbone with a tenderness that still surprised her coming from hands that could deliver such force on the ice.

"Can you do this with your ribs?" she murmured against his lips, professional concern mixing with desire.

"Manageable," he assured her, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "Just need to be a little creative."

Lauren pulled back slightly, studying his face with the practiced eye of someone who assessed pain levels daily. "On a scale of one to ten?"

A smile tugged at his mouth. "Currently a three. Potentially a zero if you'd stop asking medical questions and kiss me again."

"Impossible man," she chided, but obliged him nonetheless, her lips finding his with renewed purpose.

With deliberate care, she shifted to straddle his lap, keeping her weight on her knees to avoid pressing against his injured side. Jax's hands settled at her hips, steadying her as she positioned herself above him.

"Better perspective for assessment," she explained with clinical directness that was belied by the flush spreading across her cheeks.

"Is that what the medical textbooks call it?" Jax's amusement faded into something darker, more intense as Lauren's hands slid beneath his t-shirt, carefully mapping the contours of his torso. She noted the heat of his skin, the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm, the way his breathing quickened as her fingers traced upward.

"Arms up," she instructed softly. "Slowly."

Jax complied, allowing her to ease the shirt over his head, revealing the tapestry of his body—powerful muscles, scattered scars, and the angry bruising that spread like watercolors across his left ribs. Lauren's breath caught at the sight again, professional assessment momentarily overriding desire.

"It looks worse than it feels," Jax assured her, catching her expression.

Lauren's fingers hovered over the bruising, not quite touching. "I shouldn't have asked you to stay. You need proper rest to—"

"Lauren." His voice cut through her clinical concern, drawing her eyes to his. "I'm exactly where I want to be. With exactly who I want to be with."

The simple declaration disarmed her completely. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his with newfound urgency, her body communicating what words struggled to express—her growing need for him, not just physically, but in all the ways that had begun to redefine her carefully structured life.

Jax responded in kind, his kiss deepening as his hands slid beneath her oversized ASPCA t-shirt, warm palms mapping the curve of her waist, the arch of her spine. She took off her shirt to save him the movement.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his gaze traveling over her with an appreciation that made her feel both seen and desired, the combination heady and affirming.

Lauren reached behind to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away. Despite having been intimate before, she still felt a flutter of vulnerability as his eyes darkened, his hands moving to cup her breasts with reverent care.

"Tell me if anything hurts," she whispered, leaning forward to press her lips to his jaw, his neck, the sensitive spot behind his ear that she'd discovered made his breath catch. "Promise me."

"Promise," he agreed, his voice rough as his hands continued their exploration, thumbs brushing across her nipples in a way that sent sparks cascading through her.

Lauren traced the familiar terrain of his shoulders, careful to avoid the bruised area as she shifted her attention lower. The defined muscles of his abdomen contracted beneath her touch, his sharp intake of breath encouraging her further.

When her fingers found the waistband of his sweatpants, Jax lifted his hips slightly to assist, allowing her to slide the fabric down and off. Lauren followed, moving from the couch to kneel between his legs, her eyes holding his as she helped him remove the last barrier between them.

His arousal was evident, and Lauren took a moment to appreciate him fully—the powerful thighs, the defined lines of his hips, the hard length of him that pulsed under her gaze. With deliberate slowness, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh, then higher, her intention clear.

Jax's hand tangled in her hair as she took him in her mouth, a groan escaping him that sent satisfaction coursing through her. There was power in this—in bringing this strong man pleasure, in knowing exactly how to touch him, taste him, to make his breathing fracture and his control waver.

"Lauren," he gasped after several minutes of her attentions, his voice strained. "Need to feel you. All of you."

She released him with reluctance, taking off the rest of her clothing. When she was fully naked, she padded off to the bedroom.

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