Page 20

CHAPTER 20

PHARO

I don’t want to seem too eager—though I definitely am—so I’m not going to rush right over there with my cock in hand. Seeing Jax again has been all I could think about on the long flight home. Dinner, maybe another kiss? Maybe more?

Anticipation coils in my chest, making it harder to breathe as I make my way to the door. I tell myself to play it cool, but my heart is thumping harder than my knuckles on his door. Jax answers the door, looking less than thrilled to see me. Definitely not the warm welcome I was hoping for.

“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes flicker over my face, studying me like he’s trying to decide something. I swallow, feeling that awkwardness creep in. Maybe I’ve misread things. Maybe I shouldn’t have come over.

“Jax?” I ask softly, taking a small step forward, unsure of what to do next.

He takes a breath and finally steps aside, gesturing for me to come in. “Come on in,” he says, though there’s no enthusiasm in his voice.

I nod, trying to shake off the discomfort as I step over the threshold. I’ve been imagining this moment for weeks, but now that I’m here, everything feels... different. The distance between us feels more than just physical.

“I’d ask if you missed me, but I can see you didn’t.”

“You know, I really hate when you show up here all beat to shit.”

I glance down at my nice threads and realize he must be talking about the scratches and bruises on my face. “So you did miss me,” I grin, my mood lifting considerably despite the lingering tension.

Jax rakes his eyes over my face scathingly, his lips curling into a half-amused, half-annoyed smirk. “Miss you? You’re lucky I’m letting you in the door looking like that.”

I chuckle, brushing past him into the living room.

“So, what’s the damage?” he asks, eyeing the bruises on my cheek like he’s mentally tallying them up. “Get in a fight with a bear or something?”

“No, nothing that exciting,” I reply with a wink, trying to keep it light. “Just the usual... You know, escaping a fiery crash, dodging bullets, saving lives. The normal stuff.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s something softer in his gaze now. He steps a little closer, just enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, and for a second, it almost feels like everything else fades away. That energy between us? It’s still there, scorching and undeniable.

“You always do this,” he mutters, reaching up to gently touch the bruise on my cheek. “Risk your life trying to right the past.”

“It’s not just about the past, Jax. I care about the guys. They’re my team, my brothers. I care about right and wrong. I care about shaping the future for a country divided in conflict.”

“There’s always going to be a country in conflict and a team in need of saving, Pharo. Where does it end? Why’s it always gotta be you?”

My heart skips a beat at his touch, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here,” he agrees, but his voice is tight, like he's holding something back. “For now.”

“So,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to shift the mood, “you gonna offer me a drink or are you just gonna stand there glowering at me like I’m some stray dog you’re thinking about kicking out?”

Jax snorts, shaking his head, but finally breaks the strain with that familiar, sarcastic grin. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Fucker. “Quit being a bitch and offer me a drink.”

“All I’ve got is beer and whiskey. Pick your poison.”

“I’ll take the whiskey.”

Jax grabs the bottle from the cabinet and kicks back on the sofa, not even bothering with glasses. The loveseat has two cushions and is on the smaller side, not exactly built for comfort when you’re sitting so close to someone who feels like he’s simultaneously a thousand miles away and right in front of you. But I make my way over and sink into the space beside him, trying to ignore how my skin seems to buzz with the proximity.

Jax takes a generous pull, then hands the bottle to me without a word. I take a long swig, letting the burn slide down my throat. It feels like we’re on the edge of something I’m not sure I’m ready to face, even though it was my reason for coming here.

The room seems smaller now, the air thicker. Every movement Jax makes, every glance, every shift of his body feels amplified. I take another swallow of whiskey, trying to wash down the nerves rising in my throat. I open my mouth to break the silence, but nothing comes out. Everything I could say feels too loaded, too risky.

Jax doesn’t say anything either. His fingers tap lightly on the bottle, the quiet between us stretching longer than I’m comfortable with.

“So,” I start, my voice a little rougher than I expect. “What have you been up to, aside from looking like you’ve been avoiding daylight since I last saw you?”

He snorts, finally turning his gaze toward me. “Same old, same old. Work. Tinkering. Riding. You know, the usual.”

“Right.” My smile feels as forced as I reply. “I guess some things never change.” Life goes on without me.

“Guess not,” Jax says, but there’s something different in his tone now. It’s quieter, less guarded. Maybe even a little more open.

I shift slightly on the couch, leaning just a bit closer, feeling the heat between us grow with every inch. And yet, I still can’t bring myself to close the gap completely. The pull is there, undeniable. But what if it’s not the right time? What if I’m about to screw up the fragile connection we’ve already rebuilt?

“Glad to be back?” he asks after a few beats of silence. The question feels loaded, more than just casual small talk.

“Yeah. Missed you,” I answer, surprised by how honest the admission feels coming out of my mouth. I glance at him, hoping my voice didn’t give away too much, but Jax doesn’t react. He just takes a sip of whiskey, his jaw tightening slightly.

“You know,” he laughs, “You look all suave and shit, but you’re terrible at flirting.”

I blink, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. It’s teasing, but there’s a playfulness behind it. Maybe even a little challenge.

“Flirting?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool exterior, but his laugh is messing with my composure. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on,” Jax says, leaning back a little, eyes scanning me with a smirk. “You think I don’t know when someone’s trying too hard? You’ve been giving off this ‘I’m too cool for this’ vibe, but trust me, you’re not fooling anyone. Before you left, didn’t you ask me when you could fuck me?”

I chuckle, trying to mask the nervous tightness in my chest. “Have you come up with an answer?” What if he says tonight? Right now?

He shrugs casually, taking another sip. “This is fucking weird, man. Look at us. We’re both sitting here like we’re not about to tear each other’s clothes off.”

I feel my breath hitch, my heart pounding in my chest. He wants to rip my clothes off? Cause I’m totally on board with that plan.

I shift uncomfortably. His proximity, the heat from his body, it’s like a magnet pulling me in, but I hesitate.

“Is that what you want?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended, almost challenging him to respond.

Jax tilts his head, his eyes darkening just a little as he meets my gaze. “You tell me,” he says softly, his tone turning serious in a way that makes the world around us feel smaller.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” I murmur, leaning in just a little, my breath catching in my throat.

His lips curl, but it’s more intense now, less playful. “Yeah,” he says, voice low, “I think I do.”

Jax’s gaze lingers on my lips, and I witness the moment something inside him shifts and he decides he’s not backing down.

I search his face for something—what, I’m not sure. Something that will tell me if this is just a momentary lapse in judgment or if he’s sure. But Jax’s expression is unreadable for a split second before he gives a little smirk, and my stomach does that weird flip again.

“What's going on in that head of yours?” he asks, his voice quiet and teasing, like he's enjoying watching me squirm.

I shake my head, trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t know,” I admit, feeling strangely vulnerable. “I just… didn’t expect this, that’s all.”

He leans in a bit, his face inches from mine, and his breath is warm against my cheek. “Yeah? Well, sometimes the unexpected is exactly what you need.”

This would make so much more sense if he were drunk, but the bottle’s still half full, so why the one-eighty?

He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle considering his usual animosity toward me.

“Jax...” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want this to be a mistake.”

“Everything with us is a mistake. What’s one more?” His lips brush against my ear as he speaks, sending a shiver down my spine.

I lean into him, my hand instinctively resting on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my palm—fast, erratic, just like mine. The closeness, the intensity, it’s all too much, and yet I crave more.

Without thinking, I close the space between us, my lips finding his even with my eyes closed. My tongue is like a heat-seeking missile, zeroing in on his warm mouth, slipping between his lips. Quickly, the kiss turns deep and desperate, like we can’t get enough. The connection feels like it’s opening something inside of me that I’ve kept locked away for too long. His hand moves to my back, pulling me closer, and I let him, not caring anymore about boundaries or what this means.

When we finally pull back, both of us are panting, and I can see the desire flickering in his dark eyes. His thumb traces my bottom lip, a quiet twist tugging at his mouth.

“You’re not running away, are you?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

I shake my head. “And you’re not playing hard to get.”

Jax grins, a satisfied, knowing look in his eyes. “Good. Because we’ve only just started.”

The air crackles with static heat. I’m fully invested in this moment. There is no job, no past, no life outside of this apartment that exists for me right now. Just this kiss, this man, this feeling—everything else fades into nothing.

His lips press against mine again, slower this time, deeper, like he’s savoring every second. I let myself fall into it, the world outside slipping away as my hands find their place on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. His presence is grounding, yet electrifying, like the storm that’s brewing inside me.

I pull back just enough to catch my breath, eyes meeting his. There’s an unspoken understanding there, something raw and vulnerable, but so incredibly real.

No matter the unresolved issues lingering between us, this is happening right now—me and Jax. After the flame that sparked six long years ago, we’re finally stoking the embers into a full-blown bonfire. The hostility, the silence, the space between us—it all dissolves in the heat of this moment.

Every touch feels like we’re making up for lost time, like we’re reclaiming what should’ve been ours all along. I can feel the burn of his lips, the fire in his hands as they slide down my back, pulling me closer.

There’s a hunger in the way he kisses me, a desperation, like he wants to grab onto this fleeting pleasure before the world crashes back down on us.

But right now, none of that matters. Not the uncertainty, not the past we can’t undo, not the fear of what tomorrow will bring. Right now, it's just us, in the warmth of this kiss, this connection, as raw and real as it gets. And for once, I want to let go of all the reasons we shouldn’t, all the reasons we can't, and just sink into the moment, letting him pull me deeper into the fire.

“Take off this shirt,” I growl, desperate to touch his skin.

Jax pulls it over his head, revealing a tight body inked with black tats. I’ve never stopped to look at them or ask what they mean. We weren’t exactly into conversation.

But now I can’t help but feel the pull of curiosity. Each tattoo tells a story, a history I’ve never heard, etched into his skin like secrets he's kept locked away.

His eyes catch mine, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he notices my gaze lingering on his tattoos.

“You like?” he asks, his voice low, almost teasing.

I swallow, a little caught off guard by the question, but dip my chin. “I’ve never asked before, but someday I want to hear all about these.” I trace over a line of code running down his ribcage, and Jax flinches from the tickling sensation.

Dipping my head, I latch onto his nipple and suck hard, taking greedy pulls until he’s pushing at my head to have mercy on him.

My lips trail up his neck, nipping a wet path to his ear. “You gonna let me fuck you this time?”

Jax shivers again in my arms and answers me with a kiss.

“Better hurry before I change my mind,” he breathes huskily, chasing my lips.

Lying fucker. He’s not changing his mind tonight. I know that for sure. I’ve got him right where I want him. It’s a dare in his voice, and I’m not backing down from it. I can feel his hesitation, the underlying battle he’s always fought with himself, but tonight? Tonight, it’s different.

I know he’ll regret it tomorrow. He’ll curse both of us, pretend it never happened, and pull back into that shell of his. But tonight, for one stolen moment, Jax is mine. Every inch of him, all of him, and there’s no turning back.

I pull him closer, the heat of his body pressing against mine, and I deepen the kiss. No more holding back, no more pretending we don’t want this. Just this raw, electric pull between us.

Jax pulls at my shirt, and it joins his on the floor. He’s got octopus arms, touching me everywhere, exploring my body, and follows his touch with his mouth. His lips close over my nipple and he sucks, not as hard as I did to him, but hard enough to make my cock jerk.

“Pull it out,” I rasp, sounding needy and feral. That’s what he does to me. This heat, these feelings, I’ve never felt them with another man. Just Jax.

“Fuck, take them off,” he begs, and I don’t hesitate for a second.

As I stand to push the pants down my legs, Jax surprises me, coming to his feet and beating me to it. His pants drop to the floor in a puddle before mine do. But then he blows me out of the water. Jax crosses the room and plants his hands on the wall, pushing out his bare ass, legs braced wide.

Like an offering to a God. Or a pharaoh.

Hell, his perfect ass, so tight and round, is definitely worthy of such a sacrifice. I drop to my knees and worship him with my tongue. It slides through his crease, making him moan, and when I lick over his hole, he clenches it tightly and says my name.

“Pharo, fuck. More.”

It’s probably the first time he’s ever asked me for anything. How can I deny him such a simple request? A request I feel would kill me if I didn’t comply.

Over and over, I lick him until he stops clenching and his rim softens for me, opening enough that I can slip my tongue inside him. His musky flavor makes me drool. I gather all that saliva and push it back inside him, coating his insides with moisture. It makes an easy glide for my fingers. Jax cries out as I breach him, glancing back over his shoulder at me with a look of pure want and need.

He looks wrecked, and I’ve only just begun to take him apart.