Page 27

CHAPTER 27

PHARO

After the chaos of the tavern, the silence of my home makes our world feel smaller, like we’re the only two people who exist.

Jax seems uncomfortable. The way he stands there, shoulders stiff, hands shoved in his pockets, like he’s unsure if he should even be here—it's a sharp contrast to how he normally carries himself. He's always been so confident in his own skin, in control of every situation. But here, it feels like he's out of his element.

He hasn’t spent much time here, and we were always at odds. Our history is littered with sharp jabs and conflicting energies, but it’s different tonight. He’s... here, and I want him to feel welcome. I want him to feel like he belongs here, with me. The desire to pull him into my arms, to ease the tension from his body, almost overwhelms me. “I don’t bite,” I say, my tone softer than I meant.

“How disappointing,” Jax protests, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, though there's something more vulnerable behind it. He takes a deep breath and blows it out, his shoulders dropping an inch or two, as if the anxiety that’s been holding him tight is starting to loosen.

I reach for him, my fingers grazing the cool leather of his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders with a deliberate slowness. He doesn’t stop me, doesn’t pull away, so I take it as an invitation. The jacket slides from his arms, leaving him a little more exposed. I set it over the back of my couch, then tug off his beanie, letting the soft fabric slip through my fingers. The glittery pin is next. Jax smiles gratefully, glad to be rid of it.

“I didn’t realize pink was your color.” My lips tilt playfully. “If I ever learn to knit, I’ll make you a pink beanie.”

“Please, God, no. Pink? I told you, I’m not pretty, I’m rugged. It’d probably have more holes than a lace doily.”

My chest shakes with silent laughter. Reaching for the hem of his tee, I slide it up over his head, exposing all that smooth tatted skin I’m dying to get my mouth on. “What do you say we add a little more sparkle to you?” My tongue snakes out to lick his jaw, then a nip of my teeth. His mouth falls open on an exhale, and he breathes out, his warm breath ghosting my lips. “You gonna let me fuck you, JJ?”

He answers by sliding his tongue in my mouth. My hands roam over his back, his shoulders, pulling him close. “Nothing’s shinier than lube,” he pants, dipping his head for another kiss.

He makes an excellent point.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it fun. More like humiliation and torture.”

“What do you say we continue to make up? I have a little game we can play that is much more fun than singing. Strengthens communication, too. We’d make Brewer so proud.”

Jax lingers just a breath away, drawn to my lips like gravity won’t let him go. “Let’s not talk about Brewer right before we’re about to fuck.” His fingers work the buttons of my shirt open, and he slides it from my shoulders. Jax sucks in a breath, biting his bottom lip as his eyes roam over my chest and stomach. “Mmmphm,” he sighs.

He’s got the same look in his eyes I get when I’m at a restaurant and my server places a juicy steak in front of me.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” My voice is smooth and playful. “It’s called the compliment game. You pay me a nice compliment, and I reward you. And vice versa. What do you say?”

Jax’s eyes narrow, like he’s considering it. The corner of his mouth tugs upward, but there's a challenge in his gaze, too, like he’s not going to make this easy for me.

After a beat, he leans in closer, and his hand gently rests on my chest, his thumb brushing over the skin there like he’s testing the waters. “You think you can handle a real compliment from me?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

I lean back, deliberately slow, allowing him to close the gap, but I don’t back down. “I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you’ve got, Jax.”

He chuckles, low and throaty, before his eyes slide down over my chest again. “Alright then,” he mutters, as if making up his mind. “You’re a damn work of art, Pharo. But I’m not just talking about the body.”

His eyes lock on mine now, and the playful edge softens just a little, something deeper flickering beneath the surface. “You’ve got that thing about you, y’know? That magnetism . People can’t help but look, can’t help but want to be near you.” He licks his lips, looking unsure again. “It’s... It's impossible to ignore. You’re impossible to ignore.”

My heart beats a little faster, and the compliment, unexpected as it is, sends a rush through me. I can’t help but feel a little undone by it, though I cover it with a grin. “How long have you felt that way?”

“Pretty much from the beginning,” he admits. “You’ve always had that... effect on me. Didn’t know what to do with it at first.”

My breath catches. He’s always been this storm of contradictions, and hearing him admit it— this —feels like a crack in the shield he’s built around himself. I can’t help but let my own walls fall just a little, the tension between us giving way to something that feels like honesty, like truth.

“Well,” I murmur, my voice warm, “you definitely didn’t make it easy for me.”

His eyes flicker with a grin, but there's something softer in the way he looks at me now, like a weight has been lifted. “Didn't want to make it easy,” he says with a slight shrug. “Guess I was... afraid.”

Afraid. The word lingers between us, heavier than I expected, but it doesn’t scare me. In fact, it only draws me closer.

“Of what?” I ask, my voice quieter now, almost teasing.

“Of you ,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of this.”

I can feel the air shift between us, a strange mix of vulnerability and intensity. His admission hangs there, raw and unguarded, and it’s enough to make my pulse quicken. It’s not like I expected it—Jax, usually so sure of himself, confessing fear? Of me? It’s unsettling in the best possible way.

“Of me?” I repeat, just to make sure I heard him right, a slight curve tugging at my lips, though there’s a knot of curiosity forming in my chest. “Guess I must be pretty intimidating then.”

He lets out a low laugh, but it’s not his usual sarcastic chuckle. It’s almost... soft, like he’s unsure whether to hide behind humor or face what’s really going on between us.

“You’re not intimidating,” he says, his voice just shy of a whisper. “You’re... too real, too intense. I didn’t know how to deal with that.”

The honesty of his confession settles between us, heavy and undeniable. I try to swallow the sudden tightness in my throat, but it doesn’t go away. This, this —this feels different than the banter or the usual back-and-forth.

My hand slides to his jaw, gently tilting his head so he’s gazing at me, and for a moment, I just let the silence wrap around us, our faces inches apart.

“You don’t have to deal with it,” I murmur, my voice barely audible, as though speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment we’ve created. “You just have to be with it. With me. ”

It doesn’t come out easily, but once it does, it feels like the truth I’ve been holding back for too long. The need to close the gap between us has become unbearable, yet I hold myself just shy of crossing it, wanting to give him the space to decide.

In one smooth movement, he closes the distance, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that’s slow, deliberate, and full of unspoken understanding. It’s not a rush; it’s a question—a dare, even. Are you ready for this?

When he pulls back, just slightly, his forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “Guess I’m figuring it out,” he says, voice thick with meaning.

His honesty—his openness—he’s showing me parts of himself I’ve never seen before. It’s more than I ever expected from him, and I’m suddenly reminded of how little I knew about the layers beneath that tough exterior of his.

I brush my thumb lightly along his jaw, studying his face—those subtle, almost imperceptible shifts in his expression. “You know,” I start, my thumb moving slowly over his skin, “it’s not just the way you look or how you carry yourself... It’s the way you feel —like there’s always more going on beneath the surface. You’ve got this quiet strength, Jax, the kind that doesn’t need to shout. People see the bravado, the tough guy act, but the truth is, you’re a hell of a lot more than that.”

His expression softens even more. His eyes flicker slightly, almost like he wasn’t expecting something so genuine, but that’s the thing about Jax—he hides it so well that it’s easy to miss just how much depth there is.

“You make it easy to forget,” I continue, voice steady, “how much you actually care. You don’t let people in, and maybe that’s because you’re afraid they won’t see the real you. But... I see you. All of you. And I think that’s fucking incredible.”

The silence that follows feels full, heavy with unspoken things, but also comfortable. I feel like, for the first time, he’s letting me in, even just a little. I can tell he’s not used to hearing this, but his gaze softens as he looks at me, and I think—maybe—I’ve managed to crack the shell he’s worked so hard to build.

“You know,” I say, voice low, deliberately teasing, “I like this side of you, Jax. The one who doesn’t hide behind all the bullshit.” I work his jeans down his hips, smiling with satisfaction as they pool at his feet.

“I thought you liked the bullshit,” he says, his voice a little rougher, a little more breathless than usual.

I lean in, my lips brushing against his ear as I reply, “I like you better.”

Jax’s hand slides to the back of my neck, tugging me in for a kiss that’s slow, deliberate—almost like he’s finally giving in, letting me see all the parts of him he’s kept hidden. But right now, with the way he’s sucking on my tongue like he wishes it were my cock, I’m more interested in what’s hidden in his briefs.

They’re next to go, followed by my pants and underwear. Jax smirks at the slate blue bikini briefs I’m wearing. He hooks his finger beneath the band as he slides them down my thighs.

“Silk? Why am I not surprised? Only the finer things for you, huh?”

“Definitely,” I rasp, kicking out of them, “finer things, like you.”

I couldn’t care less how much I paid for the soft silk/nylon blend. I step over them and drag Jax closer.

“That’s cheesy as hell,” he chuckles.

“Romantic,” I correct, slipping into his mouth. When the kiss ends, I tug his arm. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I lead him down the hall toward my room, stroking my cock to keep it hard. My imagination races with all the ways I’d like to take him—against the wall with my hand around his throat, on his knees like a dog, on his back with his feet touching his ears—but we started something tonight, something real, and I’m not ready to let go of it yet.

Gently pushing him onto his back, I stand between his legs, still stroking. “Let me watch you, JJ. Touch yourself for me.”

The only reason I’m stalling is because I’m afraid that if I touch him, it’ll all be over. One simple move, and I’ll lose every bit of control I’ve been clinging to. I’m not a hearts and flowers and foreplay kinda guy, usually. This is new territory for me. I’ve never been the type for slow build-up or gentle moments—I’m usually more about directness, getting to the point. But with Jax… it feels different.

My body is practically humming with energy. “Stroke it, touch your balls.”

Jax’s eyes are hooded with lust. He trails his fingers down his hard shaft, tracing over every thick vein. He cups his balls and rolls them before tugging them away from his body. His thumb swipes away a bead of moisture seeping from his slit and he sucks it into his mouth, eyes locked on me to make sure I’m watching… like I could look away. Not a chance in hell.

“Touch me,” he pleads, sounding seconds away from outright begging.

“If I touch you, I’m not sure I’ll want to stop,” I admit, the truth coming out before I can stop myself.

“Then don’t stop,” he says simply—a challenge, an invitation, a promise.

Fuck. It’s going to be over before it even begins. Good thing we have all night.

Bending down, I suck his fat cockhead between my lips, taking him to the back of my throat and holding him there as his cock kicks like it's seizing. When I let him go, Jax breathed out in a sharp hiss, grabbing onto my shoulders to ground himself. I bathe his balls with my tongue, lapping at his smooth, firm sac until he’s panting and tugging at my hair. With great reluctance, I straighten up and grab a condom from my nightstand, rolling it over my dick as my eyes roam over his body, laid out and waiting.

“Turn over, JJ. Show me that ass.”

He rolls to his stomach, and I drizzle a stream of lube down his crease. I slide my fingers through the slippery trail, spreading it over his hole. Jax tenses, making his pucker clench, and the sight of it makes my cock drip. Dipping two fingers into his tight heat, I work my way inside his body, until he’s writhing and pushing his tight little ass out at me, begging for more.

Begging for my cock.

Grasping my cock, I smear whatever’s left on my hand down my latex-covered shaft and crawl between Jax’s thighs. On my knees, I rub my cockhead over his ass, making a slippery mess of his skin, before slipping between his cheeks. Lowering myself down over his back, I hook my feet around his calves and grab onto his tense shoulders, pushing into his body an inch at a time.

It’s slow going because he’s so incredibly tight. “Fuck, JJ, you feel… I have no words.”

“That’s a first,” he grunts, bearing down to take more of me. “G-go slow. You’re fucking huge.”

“More compliments? You’re on a roll tonight.” I chuckle against his ear, earning a shiver that makes his ass press against my groin. “I wanted to take this slow, to make this last, but…” My breath whooshes out and I suck in another, straining not to pound into him like a jackhammer. “... It’s gonna be over pretty quick. Fast and dirty. The next round,” I grunt, praying for restraint, “We’ll go slower. Promise.”

Jax fists the duvet and grits his teeth. “Do it. I’m ready. Fuck me, Pharo. Hard.”

He gives me the green light, and I go to town, unleashing my pent-up desire on his poor hole. My hips slam into him again and again, my fingers digging into his shoulders, marking him with bruises.

Half-formed words slip past my lips, teasing his ear, giving away how lust-drunk I feel. From being inside him. Jaxon James. My JJ. The man who barely tolerates me most days, submitting to me, beneath me, taking my cock—no, begging for it. The rush is too heady. It crests, sneaking up on me before I’m ready, but I’m powerless to hold it back.

“Jax,” I pant, warning him.

“Come on,” he urges. “I’m there.”

He slips his hand beneath him and jerks his cock in sync with my brutal thrusts. “Fuckkkkkkkk,” he hisses, drawing it out as he comes.

His ass squeezes my cock in a chokehold and it’s too much. I fill the condom with a grunt, gasping out his name as stars burst behind my closed lids.

Intense.

Overwhelming.

Unforgettable.

Whatever that was… making love… fucking… malucking… it was all of those and more.

I drop a kiss to the back of his sweaty neck and clench the muscles in my abs, making my cock twitch inside him. Jax chuckles and squeezes back.

“You may be on the bottom, but you’ve definitely got the upper hand over me, Jaxon. I’m fucking putty in your hands.”

It’s the truth, and I know he’d want to hear it. Jax lives to have the upper hand over me.

“I like hearing you admit that,” he says, voice a little rougher than usual, but still dripping with that easy confidence. “Makes everything that much sweeter.”

“You love being in control,” I murmur, my voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and challenge. He thinks he’s got me right where he wants me. And he does, but I’ll be damned if I admit that much to him. “But don’t forget... even when you think you’ve got the upper hand, I’m still playing the game with you.”

Jax glances back at me, clearly intrigued, but there’s no denying the flicker of excitement in his eyes. “Oh, I like the sound of that,” he says, a dangerous glint in his smile. “Now, do me a favor. Get the fuck off me. You weigh a ton.”