Page 3 of Dirty Pucking Tease

"Yeah." I bolted for the door. "Let yourself out."

3

It felt like I had been standing alone in the darkness of the groves for hours before Jax finally pulled up when, in reality, he'd made it in fifteen minutes. Which was impressive, but I assumed that was why he took the bike.

"Where is he?" Jax growled, pulling his helmet off.

"Jax, please." I stifled a groan, wrapping my arms around my chest to hide my humiliation. "I've already been humiliated enough for one night. I want to go home."

"Are you hurt?" He sighed as his gaze trailed over me, looking for any sign of injury.

"No." I shook my head. He nodded, twisting back to grab his other helmet.

"Don't waste your time, bro," the voice that told me to put out or get out cackled from behind me. I cringed as Jax's gaze flicked up and over my shoulder. "She's a prude who thinks her pussy's made of gold." His gaze followed him as he passed us. Jax threw his long leg over his bike as the realization that this was the guy who left me stranded hit him.

"Jax," I warned, but he was already storming towards him. He tapped him on the shoulder, and when David whippedaround with a huge grin plastered across his face, Jax's fist rocked him, sending him flying backward.

"What the fuck, man?" David scowled, reaching up and wiping the blood pooling from his split lip.

"Don't. Ever. Talk about her again," Jax growled. His entire body tensed as his fist clenched at his side like he might throw another punch.

"Jax, please," I pleaded, tugging on his shirt. We were drawing a crowd of party-goers curious about all the commotion. This was exactly what I didn't want to happen. I didn't want to draw more attention to this entire situation.

"I asked you for a ride," I hissed when we returned to the bike. "Not to defend my honor."

He kicked his leg over the bike, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's the same." He handed me a helmet. "Put it on, and let's get out of here."

"Hold on tight," Jax's voice boomed through the speakers inside the helmet. I grabbed his waist awkwardly and heard him laugh through the speakers as he grabbed each of my hands, pulling them tightly around him. Then, he revived the motor and zoomed off.

It wasn't exactly a cold night, but the wind on my hands was brutal. I balled them together, desperate for warmth.

"Are your hands cold?" he asked as he eased the bike to a stop at the red light.

"Yeah, a little," I said. "But I'll live."

Dropping his feet to the ground, he balanced the bike and grabbed my hands, prying them open with his thumbs. I couldn't see what he was doing over his shoulder, but I felt it. He pressed my flat palms against his bare, ripped torso, then pulled his shirt over them. The heat from his skin immediately warmed them when he pressed his hands over the shirt, holding them in place.

"Better?"

"Yea-yeah," I stuttered. His back bounced slightly like he was laughing as he pulled his legs up and surged forward, causing my thighs to tighten around his waist.

Jax and I had an odd relationship. It mainly consisted of rude comments, eye-rolling, sarcasm, and me screaming at him to get out of the bathroom. I had never touched him in all the years we'd lived together. I mean, sure, I ogled him, but who wouldn't? Look at him. He was fifty-shades of fucking gorgeous with his dark thick hair, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled jawline. But feeling the deep curves of his smooth, tight abs underneath my touch sent a rushing wave of heat straight between my legs.

Not that he felt the same.

4

Turning over, I glanced at my alarm clock. Three-forty-five in the morning, and I was wide awake. I leaned up on my arms and peeked through the bathroom into Jax's room, but it was covered in darkness. He probably left to finish whatever he'd been doing before I called after I bolted to my room when we got home. Or maybe he was asleep.

My stomach growled, and I decided that I needed ice cream.

My father and stepmother, Liz, were out of town on their 700th honeymoon. Harlow and Syn were supposedly staying with a 'girlfriend,' and Trystan was gone with friends to what sounded like a massive orgy and wouldn't be home for the night. So that left me alone in the mansion.

Pushing through the door leading into the kitchen, I froze at the sight of a half-naked Jaxtyn. Swallowing hard, I watched his tanned and toned back muscles flex with his movement. Something shifted between us tonight, and I thought it best to avoid him until I could wrap my brain around what.

"I was making some ice cream," Jax said, his back still facing me. It was too late to run now. If I bolted for my bedroom again, he'd know I was being weird. "Want some?"

"Yeah." I sighed, strolling up to the island in the center of the kitchen.

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