The Dangerous Curves Series

Chapter 31

Sarah carried the plates into the kitchen. She set them in the sink, turned on the hot water.

“Hey, leave them.” Jax appeared next to her. “I’ll throw them in the dishwasher later.”

“You sure? I mean, you cooked, so I should do the dishes.”

“I’m sure.” He pulled her to him gently. “I want dessert.”

“What’s for dessert?” she said, starting to feel breathless.

“You.” He ran his fingers down her body, and stopped at her hip. “In the pool.”

She shivered in response. She was instantly wet between her legs at the thought of seeing Jax in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Then she remembered.

“Ummm. I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“You don’t need one.”

She smiled up at him, and he thought she was the brightest, most stunning thing he’d ever seen. “So this is naked dessert.”

“Is that a problem?” His voice was a low, sexy growl.

She paused, and he saw the uncertainty flash across her face. Right away, he dropped the joking tone.

“Hey, Sarah… if you don’t want to, it’s OK.” He stroked her hair, soothing her. “No pressure. I promise.”

“Maybe – maybe I can keep my underwear on?”

“No pressure,” Jax repeated. “We can just sit on the deck and look at the stars.” He grinned. “Maybe make out a little bit.”

She was quiet.

“Hey, did I scare you?”

“No.”

“So what’s going on in that busy head of yours?”

“I was just thinking that the view of the stars is probably better from the swimming pool.”

Jax felt his heart stop.

“So… dessert in the pool it is, Stud.” Her face was calm now, relaxed and sure. “But not totally naked dessert. Not yet.”

“Whatever you want, doll. I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”

She took his hand, led him back outside to the patio, down the back steps into the yard. Sarah walked over to the pool edge, kicking off her sandals as she went. Jax watched her ass in her jeans, dying to get his hands on her.

Take it easy now, man. Stay in control.

She immediately tested his resolve by turning to him, and slowly lifting his t-shirt up and over his head. She dropped it on the deck, and moved into his arms.

Jax closed his eyes as she pressed up on his chest. Her breath on his bare skin was almost too much; her hair tickling his sensitive flesh was sweet torment… and he loved it all, and wanted more of it.

Sarah couldn’t believe Jax’s body – it was like something from a dirty fantasy. Hard, huge, muscular, tattooed damn near everywhere. Dear sweet God, the man was ripped, and any thought she’d ever had of Dave as attractive flew right out the window.

Jax’s body was raw power, lethal and dangerous, and she could actually feel him holding back the most primitive part of himself, not wanting to scare her.

She lifted her hand to his chest, hesitated.

“Touch me, baby.” His voice was an octave lower than usual. “Do what you want.”

He held his breath as her fingers stroked his arms and chest. Slow. Gentle. Her shyness and inexperience were totally new things for Jax, and he was surprised how much he actually liked them.

Until now, he’d only ever been with women who knew what the hell they were doing in bed, who demanded their own pleasure with grasping fingers and thrusting hips, who knew how to suck his d**k to get him off. Sleazy, harsh, purely selfish s*x. Even the first girl he’d ever been with had been almost three years older, and widely experienced.

Jax had thought that was what he liked, what he really craved and needed. But what he was doing here with Sarah – just standing still and letting her explore him at her own pace – was the hugest f*****g turn-on he’d ever known.

Sarah didn’t know where to touch first. His shoulders and arms were massive, heavily muscled, demanding her attention. But his broad chest was a thing of perfection, with the grooves and curves covered in intricate tattoos. He had dark hair on his sculpted pecs, and it ran down the center of his body, and disappeared into the waist of his jeans. She longed to follow it over his taut stomach, all the way to his c**k. The thought made her p***y spasm, and she bit her lip.

He had scars, she saw. Lots of them, mostly hidden under the dark ink covering his body. She skimmed the raised white lines, realizing that the man beneath her fingers was a street fighter of some kind. Strong, menacing, tough. A man who’d seen some kind of war, and who’d walked away from it in one piece. What had he done to get away from that life? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know.