"You're not nuts, Jax," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "You're just having a hard time. Anyone would be, after what you went through."
"Oh yeah?" A tight, bitter laugh escaped Jax's lips, and he stared back down at the dark iPad screen. "Then why are you pulling away from me?"
I put my hand over his. Jax seemed really scared—something I'd done had made him genuinely afraid he'd lose me. Gently, I squeezed his hand. "Why do you think I've been pulling away from you?" I asked softly.
He pulled his hand away. "You keep using this tone with me, like I'm a wounded animal or something. Your voice is soft where it used to be edgy, Pepper. You used to give me sass instead of spending your days worrying about whether I was okay."
"But I care about you." My eyes were filling with tears, but I couldn't let them fall. Jax was probably right, I had been treating him with kid gloves. But what was I supposed to do when I didn't want him to get hurt any more than he already had been?
"I know you care." His voice was gruff. "But this isn't just going to be all better. Not today, not tomorrow. Do you understand that? And you can't make me better any faster. I know it's not fun for you. If you want out, just say so."
I took both his hands into both of mine. "I can't make it better. But I can be here for you. I don't understand everything you're going through, but I'm not going anywhere."
His hands tensed. "I don't want to be treated like I'm broken."
"I don't think—" I started speaking gently, but then cut myself off. Was that really what Jax wanted? Jax saw kindness as pity. There had to be some other way to get through to him. An idea occurred to me.
I took my hands out of his. "I don't think you're broken at all." Slowly, I slid my open hand along his thigh, harder than just a gentle caress. I caught Jax's eye and held it as my hand slid up, up, slowly, until I heard his breath go in sharply. "Remember the night we first met?" I whispered.
Jax's eyes, dulled before, flickered to life for an instant. "What are you doing?" he asked with an incredulous look.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I slid my hand up against his fast-rising bulge. "I'm getting you hard."
Jax looked around the parking lot nervously. "Not right now, Riley. I—this may not be a good idea out here."
I leaned forward to the front console of the convertible and pressed a button. "Does this make it better?" I asked, moving to the back seat as the roof started sliding over the car, enclosing us in a bubble of privacy.
"I'm just not sure this will work," he muttered, embarrassed. "Since everything happened, I haven't . . . I mean, we haven't . . . I mean . . ."
I put a finger to my lips. "Shh. You don't have to do anything. I started something the day we met, and today I'm going to finish it."
He looked at me closely, his face a question: are you sure?
"Trust me. Just lay back," I said, my face turning into a grin. "You're in good hands."
When I saw him smile back, I pulled his zipper down.
His cock was as magnificent as the first time I'd seen it. I can't believe I fit that entire thing inside me, I thought, but the sudden tingling feeling between my legs told me that after so long without his touch, my cravings were as immense as he was.
I licked my hands to make them slippery, then slid them over the head of his cock, making him gasp with pleasure. Slowly, I moved one hand down over the other, keeping them both stroking in a steady rhythm.
"God, I missed feeling you," Jax moaned.
"I missed feeling you," I purred against his ear, grasping his cock harder.
As my fingers squeezed over him, Jax's eyes closed tight with pleasure.
Taking my palms away, I traced a line down the underside of his cock with my finger. "Open your eyes, Jax," I said, suddenly realizing exactly how I needed to get through to him.
"What?"
"Open them. Just keep them open."
His eyelids lifted, and dark-rimmed pupils stared into mine. I moved my fingers in tightening waves around the shaft of his cock, and his muscles grew taut, straining against his clothing, as I watched his face—the face of the rock star I'd made mine.
As I moved my thumb and forefinger to the head of his cock, still stroking with my other hand, his gasps grew quicker. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, and his breaths were almost a cry.
"Riley, be careful," he said, his words interrupted by shallow breaths. "It's been a long time. You're going to make me come."
"I know," I said. "I want to."
"Band will be back," he panted, his face etched with lines of effort. "Nothing to clean it up with."
"I can think of something," I said, and bent my head down toward his cock. I want you, Jax. Now do you understand?
"Oh, God, Riley. . . I'm not going to last . . ."
Good. If I could get Jax back, the old Jax, the Jax I knew. I kept my hand squeezing firmly as my lips slid around him and I took him into my mouth. His hands fisted into my hair as my tongue skimmed the head, and as I heard him cry out, I brought my lips around him even deeper.
Jax's body jerked, and my mouth filled with the taste of the sea as his fists tightened suddenly, then relaxed.
I swallowed and took my mouth and hands away slowly, straightening in the back seat. Jax looked at me with a mixture of contentment and awe. More importantly, he looked like himself.
"See?" I said, smiling and feeling just a little bit like a world-class sex goddess. "No cleanup needed."
He reached out an arm to put around me, and I nestled in against his body. It took everything I had not to press closer, but I knew that the flesh beneath Jax's shirt was raw and bruised.
It felt like we laid there a long time like that, not saying anything, not moving—just enjoying the feel of our bodies lying next to each other.
After minutes of silence passed, Jax took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about what you said before," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
"Huh?" I said, blinking myself back out of the dreamy reverie I was in.
"About beefing up security for the concert," he said evenly. "I think you may be right."
"Wait, really?"
"It wouldn't hurt. I'll call about it tomorrow."
I narrowed my eyes, wondering what had brought on the sudden change of heart. Does it really matter? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Thank you," I said finally. "That means a lot to me."