Page 47 of Beach Bum Billion-Heiress
20
Sage
"I'm home!" I called out as I entered the door to our flat. I'd spent the morning with my father, having made our amends last night at the restaurant. I'd just said goodbye to him at the airport and now it was finally time for Jax and I to privately celebrate the opening of my restaurant.
As happy as I was that my father and I were back on good terms, I was more looking forward to whatever Jax had planned for me in his bed. I mean, a multi-million dollar trust fund was pretty rad, but a night with Jax dominating my body was legit life altering.
I dropped my bag onto the floor by the door and tossed my sweater onto the hook on the wall. I spun around to locate Jax realizing instead that he'd transformed our apartment while I was gone. Little white tea light candles were the only glow in the space, the curtains drawn shut over the massive windows creating an intimate atmosphere. Red rose petals formed a path along the hardwood floors, leading me to the space in the back by the bed.
But still no sign of Jax.
I looked around, a smile creeping onto my face at the effort he went into making this special. Then I saw a folded note on the foot of the bed sitting in the middle of a huge pile of rose petals. I picked it up and flipped it open to read Jax' scrawled handwriting.
Hair up, clothes off, robe on. Relax, baby.
Always ready for adventure, I didn't question it, just pulled my hair up into a bun on top of my head, stripped down, and donned the fluffy, white robe laying on the side of the bed. I was ready for relaxation, however Jax meant to provide it to me. I laid down on the bed on my back and closed my eyes.
Fissures of anticipation ran up and down my body. I couldn't fully relax, wondering what would happen next and where Jax was and what he'd do to me. I trusted fully that whatever it was, he'd make it good for me. But tell that to my limbs jumping around in their excitement for what was to come.
After a few deep breaths, soft guitar music began playing from the speaker over on the dresser. I smiled, my eyes still closed, knowing he was close by. I heard footsteps, muted by the rug on the floor, but discernible above the music, nonetheless. He went around the bed, then back to the other side before stopping by my feet.
"Keep those eyes closed, baby," he whispered to me.
I nodded and held my breath, waiting for his next move. A single, rough finger slid up the bottom of my foot, making me jump.
"Shh..."
I settled down again, determined to relax, no matter what he threw at me.
Another finger along my arch, then along the other foot. Both hands gripped my left foot and began to massage it, thumbs and fingers pressing in, rubbing and stroking. His hands were slick with lotion or oil of some sort. I vaguely smelled ylang ylang, the essential oil that I kept in the bathroom for mixing with my lotion. It was my secret perfume. Where others spent hundreds on fancy designer perfumes, I preferred the simpler, natural scent. Smelled like Jax was on to my secret.
Soon all thought was swept away as his thumbs kept digging and his hands kept moving. I'd worn heels last night for the first time in months and my feet were paying for it today. This massage was bringing life back into them by the second.
Slowly his hands left my feet and slid up my calves, massaging along the way, making my skin tingle everywhere he touched. My breaths were timed with his strokes, the tension of the last few days melting into nothing so that little existed except for me, this moment, and Jax' hands.
His massaging moved higher, the robe parting to allow him access to my thighs. Without thinking, I clenched them together to stem the desire coursing through my body at his touch. He gripped them and stilled his movements till he felt my muscles relax. No words needed, just communicating through touch.
When my thighs were putty in his hands, I felt him unknot the belt around my waist and pull both sides of the robe open, the rush of cool air bringing goose bumps to my skin. Jax' cotton pants rubbed against the skin of my inner thighs, his body pushing my legs further apart to accommodate him.
The hands came back, this time on my belly, more oil making his hands glide easily. His warm breath hit my belly button and made me clench the quilt on either side of me. I wasn't cold any longer, his hands and breath, his very nearness, heating me like a mid-summer day at the beach.
Palms cupped my breasts, my nipples impatiently waiting their turn for his attention. He squeezed lightly, pushing them together, what little I had to work with. His breath hit my chest a split second before his scruffy beard scraped along the valley between my breasts. Warm lips kissed a line down my torso, ignoring my aching breasts and traveling lower to tease my belly button.
His lips left me suddenly and his hands came behind me to lift me up to a seated position, my face pressed to his chest. He slipped the robe from my arms while I lay boneless in his grasp. If relaxed was his aim, he'd delivered in spades.
I was laid back down gently, like a priceless artifact too fragile for normal handling. The contrast of this sweet, gentle Jax from his usual rough bedroom manner was startling. I'd always loved his firm grip and punishing pace, but I didn't dislike this tenderness either.
His hands continued their journey across my body and down my arms, leaving not one muscle untouched. His lips soon followed, kissing their way to each new spot, his beard tickling as it dragged over hypersensitive skin.
"I love this spot," he whispered as he kissed the dip above my collarbone.
"And this one." Lips on my chest above my heart.
"And these are perfection." His tongue swiped across my nipple as his hands cupped my breasts again, the sensation zipping through my body, waking me up from my semi-consciousness.
All too soon, his face moved lower.
"I adore this freckle." That whisper, combined with his lips and tongue, was doing things to my insides, making me restless. The massage coma was turning into straight sexual tension.
