Beautiful Crazy Part 25

Jax rolled his drumsticks in his hand and playfully tapped out a beat on his much shorter sister's pink head. Mandi, apparently, didn't appreciate his brotherly affection and attempted to punch him in the stomach, despite the fact that she was a d.i.n.ky little squirt with fists the size of his big toes.

"What is it about you guys and punching each other?" A familiar, husky voice broke through Zakk Wylde's remake of "Ain't No Sunshine" booming through the club.

Jami. She'd actually come.

His head snapped up and his blood felt like lava, burning him from the inside out as it flowed faster through his veins. Unfortunately, his shock gave the d.i.n.ky devil next to him an opening to punch him hard in the gut, doubling him over with a cough.

"What the h.e.l.l, Mand?" He choked, trying to stand up straight and hold his belly. But his sister waved at Jami, smirked at him, and ran off toward the greenroom.

He turned back to Jami and realized she was wearing a short jean skirt-short enough he could see her creamy thighs-and a sleeveless plaid cotton shirt. And even more surprising, if that was possible, she had it unb.u.t.toned far enough that he could see the top curve of her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s, held tightly in a lacy tank top. She was hotter than any woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

She threw up her hands. "Well?" She huffed, blowing out a breath that lifted her loose, long blond hair. Long, gorgeous hair that he hadn't seen down in five years. He smiled, trying really hard not to look predatory. He couldn't help it. Despite her douchebag parents and her odd attachment to everything boring and beige, his body instantly reacted to hers. She looked awesome. But instead of telling her so, he motioned with his finger for her to spin. He had to know how long her hair fell down her back and what those black heels she was wearing did to her pert round little a.s.s.

She tried to hide her blush, which he always found so cute, but slowly turned, her arms still spread wide. How she could be such a wild vixen in bed and still get embarra.s.sed at a little lascivious attention was pretty d.a.m.n funny. When she started turning, he realized he wasn't the only one watching her swivel her hips as she circled. He turned his glare at the table of a.s.sholes eyeballing Jami and the two standing against the bar. The blond G.o.ddess in front of him remained completely clueless to her audience.

It was only a moment before her back came into view. Her hair wasn't as long as it was back in school. Oh no, it was longer, curling over the round lift of her a.s.s. Enough hair to grab and wrap around both fists as he imagined bending her over and driving into her. His chest tightened and he took a step forward. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he felt her tremble under his touch. He loved that feeling. The way he affected her. No matter how much she fought their connection and their past with her words, her body betrayed her l.u.s.t. Every. d.a.m.n. Time.

Jax bent over her, letting his hand trace her shoulder, down her collarbone, and brush the side of her breast before spreading across her soft belly. He loved Jami's body. Always had. Her insane hourgla.s.s figure made him drool. Even when she hid it in boxy suits and wore her no-nonsense bun and lawyerly demeanor. She oozed s.e.x innately. She knew it. Fought it. But not tonight. Tonight she wore it on her sleeve. Owned it.

And Jax was just arrogant enough to believe it was all for him. "Did you wear this for me, sunshine?" he whispered into her ear and ran his tongue over the soft curve of her lobe.

She stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting back into him and shaking her head. Such a little liar. He smiled against her neck, her soft, flowery scent filling his lungs like it was oxygen itself. "Did you come to get your panties or did you come to see me play?"

"Both." Her words were low, a smoky whisper. "I thought it would be a good idea to hear my client's music. And you do have something that belongs to me."

"You'll have to stay for one to get the other." He ran his nose along her neck and bit her softly. He didn't need to feel her up in the middle of the dingy club to know her nipples would be hard as two little bullets. Experience and her sharp intake of breath told him that.

"Please stop."

He turned her in his arms and looked down into her blue eyes. "I will if that's what you really want. Or we can pretend the past doesn't exist. For one night." Wrapping her long hair around his fist, he angled her head where he wanted it. Where he needed it.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

"In the middle of all these people?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes widened and while she seemed to consider it, he ran his hand along her neck and cupped her face. She nodded, hissing slightly when he gave a sharp pull on her hair. He heard the band announced as Conner ran past him and b.u.mped him with his shoulder. "Time to rock and roll, playboy!"

Jax took Jami's mouth. There was no other way to describe it. He took her full, bow-shaped lips under his and tried to convince her with his tongue to stop s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around. There was no subtle build up, no gentle touch of lips brushing together. He needed to f.u.c.king kiss her again. And hard. So he did, leaving no question as to what he wanted from her, f.u.c.king her with his tongue and rubbing his hard c.o.c.k against the soft give of her body. He was going to combust into flames if he didn't get back inside her sweet curves soon. He moaned into her mouth and held her tighter when she mirrored his desire with a low groan of her own.

The lights flashed and dimmed as he contemplated how quickly he could get her into Shelby's office without breaking the connection. Reluctantly, he pulled back, noting the dazed, gla.s.sy look in her eyes and how hard she pulled her hands around his neck. Good. He slowly tugged her panties from his pocket and tied them around his wrist. Before she realized what he'd done, he pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket, twirled them in the air, and winked.

Then he turned and ran up toward the steps of the stage, wondering why he was always running away from her and not toward her.

"Did he just wrap a pair of women's underwear around his wrist before going up on stage?"

Jami turned slowly, still in a Jax-induced haze. Her friends Ella and Gabby stood behind her. Oh s.h.i.t, had they witnessed the whole scene play out between her and Jackson? That was exactly why she shouldn't be here. Why she had to stay away from him. He was dangerous. He made her think wearing a short denim skirt, heels, and a tiny top were good ideas. That coming to a heavy metal show in downtown Portland was a good idea. Or that letting a tattooed, pierced six-foot-four wall of narrow, twisting muscle wrap her hair around his fist in a packed bar and kiss her breathless was a good idea.

It wasn't. Not a good idea. Definitely a very bad idea.

She stared at her friends. What had Ella asked her?

Behind her, a guitar began to play a slow, pulsing melody. Soft, sweet, building to something bigger. More solid.

The steady beat of a ba.s.s drum. Then more drums.

Ella and Gabby pointed to something on the low stage behind Jami. The band. Of course, the band was starting. More specifically, Jackson's band, her client, Manix Curse, was beginning their set. Her heart dropped into her belly. She swiveled around, her eyes tracking the hundreds of hands with their fingers held up in heavy metal salute.

The lone spotlight shone down on the tall and shirtless Marco Dane as he tossed back his mane and bellowed to the sky about the cruelty of love. His perfect torso was already glossy with the sheen of sweat. But it was the tall, rangy man beating the drums with feral efficiency that made her blood boil with prurient l.u.s.t. His head hung low, but his short, messy hair was already dark with sweat despite the fans circulating air around the stage. Conner leaned into a mic in front of Mandi and they joined the chorus.

Jami watched in awe, mesmerized by the pure, raw power of the four band members and how seamlessly, yet viciously, they tore apart and reconstructed the song. She'd never seen anything like it. Never heard any band with such vitality and brutality and, yet, a dash of melody. Even in her wilder youth, when she'd snuck into every concert and club possible, she'd never seen anything quite like Manix Curse.

Not one for crowds or other people actually touching her, Jami barely registered the audience members pushing into her, clamoring for a closer look at Manix Curse. Or even the couple of losers that attempted gropes before Ella-or she a.s.sumed it was Ella-slapped away a restless, errant hand.

The band abruptly ended their song and the crowd went wild, screaming their names and favorite songs into the chaos.

Marco laughed-or growled, more accurately-into the mic and the women in the crowed squealed. "You guys here to see Manix Curse?"

The crowd screamed louder.

"You here to rock the f.u.c.k out?"

They yelled louder still.

Then Jackson raised his head and searched the crowd. The smirk that transformed his face when his eyes locked on Jami's could only be described as wolfish. The voice in her head began to whisper again, filling her with all kinds of dark and dirty thoughts. Because gone was the laid back, easy going Jackson everyone knew. In his place was the man she'd met years before.

s.e.xy.

Dangerous.

Pure sin.

And her blood turned from liquid into steam and evaporated from her body, leaving her a hollow sh.e.l.l of need.

He flipped his sticks around his fingers in a manner that, for some unexplained reason, made her panties wet. Then he pointed one stick at her, and sure enough, her freaking panties were wrapped around his wrist like some ridiculous rock-and-roll talisman. People turned to stare at her, obviously wondering what, or who, had caught the playboy drummer's eye, but she just stared at him.

He yelled into his mic, "One, two, and three, and four!" before breaking into a fast-paced beat. His long arms moved so quickly she could barely keep up with his movements, except for the flexing and undulating of the well-defined muscles in his shoulders.

Lord above, the man was sheer muscle and raw s.e.x.

When an elbow flew past her head and nearly hit her temple, she realized her friends were trying to drag her out of the way of the mosh pit that had opened up like a tempestuous storm in the middle of the club. She let them lead her to the edge of the crowd.

Gabby turned to her, her cheeks pink and her green eyes wide. "Dude, what the f.u.c.k was that?"

"That, my dear friends, was Jax Pain. Drummer extraordinaire and bad boy tattoo artist. He's the whole thing," she said as Jackson flipped his head back, his hair wet with sweat, but still so hot. So freaking hot.

When Jackson's eyes connected with hers, everything in that room just disappeared. Like in a d.a.m.n movie. Only this movie's soundtrack was set to a heavy metal grind and not some Top 40 ballad or hokey country song.

"I will find your darkness," Marco growled into the mic. "And add my own."

Mandi's fingers slowed and her guitar cried, drawing out the melody.

"I will drag you into the light."

Jackson's arms moved at a more languid pace, his muscles flexing and twitching, the movement nearly hypnotizing.

"Because now I know for sure."

Conner's ba.s.s line pummeled the audience-building, digging deeper, climbing higher.

Marco looked up through his mane, a huge lion of a man, and screamed, "You were meant to be my home!" at the same moment Jackson jumped up, kicked his stool back, and pounded his drums in a blurred fury.

The air in Jami's lungs left with a whoosh. She couldn't breathe. And despite the loud wall of sound circling her like a hurricane, she could hear the swooshing sound of the blood pulsing through her ears.

Jackson was glorious. A magnificent metal G.o.d.

As the song ended and he ran up with his band mates to take a bow, he brought his wrist-his panty-covered wrist-to his nose and smiled that untamed one-sided grin again, before running off stage.

By the time the band wrapped up their three encores and the bright overhead lights illuminated the club again, Jami was making her way toward the door with Ella and Gabby. Suddenly a damp, tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and she felt herself pulled into a solid, slick body.

Before she could yank herself free and reprimand the a.s.s messing with her, Jackson's dark voice whispered into her ear. "Say good night to your friends."

Her nipples hardened as if on command and the heat she'd been feeling all night in her chest dropped down between her legs. He pulled her tighter, snug against the hard c.o.c.k pressed against her back.

She didn't even consider the remote possibility of saying no. Maybe tonight she'd give into her l.u.s.t for him. A shiver crawled up her neck and her heart raced. Maybe one night was what she needed for closure.

Jax was on a performance high and wanted nothing more than to pounce on Jami. They were stopped by three different women before he finally pulled her into the owner's office and kicked out a couple making out on the couch. He'd barely slammed the door behind them before he twirled her and pinned her up against the door, his hand on the fleshy globes of her sweet a.s.s. He growled when she wrapped her hands over his shoulders and pulled herself up his body, her legs winding naturally around his waist.

She'd once told him his sheer strength and size had always made her feel safe, protected. That she always found it erotic as h.e.l.l. He felt just the opposite right then, like he might be too close to losing control. Like he might be the farthest thing from safe.

His rock-hard c.o.c.k throbbed against the zipper of his ridiculously tight jeans. Somewhere in the back of his adrenaline-infused brain, he knew it was wrong to rub his show-sweaty body all over her s.e.xy but tidy outfit. All he cared about was touching her, feeling her, feeling the hot glove of her p.u.s.s.y around him again. He was tired of waiting, of playing games.

"You were taunting me from the stage weren't you, sunshine?" He rubbed his scratchy beard along the edge of her jaw. The sharp intake of her breath followed by the increased pulse in her neck told him two things. One, she was as turned on as he was. And two, he could have her right then and there if he wanted. A part of him wanted that very much. "Eye-f.u.c.king me the whole time."

She didn't answer for a moment. Their panting crowded the air between them.

"I was in awe," she said finally, her voice sounding low and hoa.r.s.e, like velvet wrapped around his c.o.c.k. He pulled back to look into her eyes. "I didn't expect... I didn't know... I..." She stared up at him, the blue of her eyes so vibrant it looked almost lavender, but she looked so confused and lost.

"You were so beautiful, Jackson. So powerful. I had no idea that your music-that you-were like that. I mean... I don't know. I just didn't know."

He smiled and licked her neck, stopping to nibble her ear. His normally articulate lawyer seemed flummoxed, at a loss for words. "Men aren't beautiful."

"You are. And, oh my G.o.d, so freaking s.e.xy."

He chuckled. "I love how ready to be f.u.c.ked you are right now, and you still can't swear properly."

She pinched his shoulder. He squeezed her a.s.s with his hands. Hard. She gasped and leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. "Then stop talking and f.u.c.k me, bad boy."

He sucked her full bottom lip into his mouth and bit. "So now who's getting bossy?"

"Jackson!" she pleaded. And he liked the edge in her voice-jagged with l.u.s.t and need. "I want you."

I want you.

There it was again.

"Want you too, babe, but not here."

And then Jami did something that blew him away for the second time. She pouted, sticking out her luscious bottom lip again. "Why not?"

He yanked her hips toward his body and leaned down, whispering against her lips, "I'm going to take you home and rip your clothes off. Then I'm going to take my time relearning every curve, every sweet crevice. Slow. So f.u.c.king slow. Then I'm going to devour you."

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice breathy and nearly a croak.

"Yeah."

"We need to get the h.e.l.l out of here."

Jax watched as Jami practically ran from the room, her perfect a.s.s swishing back and forth as she tugged him through the loitering crowd and nearly ripped his arm out of the socket when he was stopped and congratulated for the fifth time. Who knew such a tiny woman could be so strong?

He loved her impatience. It was hot as h.e.l.l. He'd let her drag him around the club for now, but as soon as they were through the door she would be all his.

And he wasn't walking away this time. Not for anything.

COMING MARCH 2017.

Order Kasey Lane's next book.

in the Rock 'n' Ink series.

Beautiful Mess.

On sale March 2017.

BEAUTIFUL CRAZY PLAYLIST.