Page 14 of Jessa & Jaxon (What Happens In Vegas #1)

The Maldivian sun kisses JJ’s skin, turning it a shade of honey-gold that makes my mouth water. I watch her from behind my sunglasses as she laughs at something the waiter says. She’s stretched out on a lounger, a white bikini against her brown skin.

Mine. All of it mine.

I’ve positioned my lounger to maintain perfect sightlines to my wife and anyone who approaches her. Six months of living together hasn’t diminished my need to protect what’s mine. If anything, having our love out in the open has only intensified my territorial instincts.

The waiter—Arif, according to his name tag—laughs too loudly at whatever clever thing my wife just said. His eyes linger a second too long on the curves barely contained by that scrap of fabric she calls a swimsuit.

My swimsuit.

He doesn’t know I’m watching. That I catalog every flicker of his eyes, every inch they drift from her face.

“Another coconut water for the beautiful lady?” he asks, and I note the way he leans closer.

“That would be wonderful,” JJ says, flashing a brilliant smile.

I lower my book. “Make that two,” I say, my voice carrying easily across the deck of our over-water villa. “And bring the lunch menu when you return.”

The waiter startles, finally registering my presence on the opposite side of the deck. “Of course, sir. Right away.”

When he disappears, JJ turns to me with a frown. “You’re doing it again,” she says.

“Doing what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

“That thing where you mark your territory without actually peeing in a circle around me.” She sits up, adjusting her sunglasses.

“He was staring at your ass.”

“He was not.”

“JJ, I’ve been staring at that ass for years. I know what it looks like when a man appreciates the view.”

She laughs, the sound carrying across the crystal-clear water stretching endlessly around our private villa. “We’ve been together for six months. Don’t you get tired of being so possessive?”

I set my book down and cross the deck to her lounger in four long strides. Leaning down, I brace my hands on either side of her, caging her body with mine.

“Should I get tired of wanting what’s mine?” I ask, my lips a breath away from hers. “The day I stop wanting you, Jessa Jamison, is the day they put me in the ground.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the subtle quickening of her breath. My wife thinks she can hide her reactions from me, but I’ve made studying her my obsession.

“I’m not a possession, Mr. Jamison.”

But she doesn’t push me away. Instead, her fingers find the edge of my jawline, tracing the stubble I’ve neglected to shave this morning. The contradiction between her words and actions is purely JJ. She’ll challenge me verbally while her body tells a completely different story.

“Mmm.” I skim my lips along her jaw.

The waiter chooses that moment to return with our drinks. I hear his footsteps falter on the wooden deck.

“Your coconut waters,” he says, voice professional now. “And the lunch menus.”

I straighten unhurriedly, keeping one hand possessively on JJ’s bare shoulder. “Leave them on the table.”

“Will there be anything else?”

“No,” I say, dismissive. I don’t take my eyes off my wife, who’s trying not to laugh.

After he leaves, JJ swats my chest. “You’re terrible.”

“You didn’t marry me for my restraint,” I remind her.

“No, I married you because I was drunk in Vegas.”

I pull her to her feet. “You married me because you knew from the first moment we met that you were mine.”

“That’s revisionist history,” she says, but she doesn’t pull away when I slide a hand into her hair.

“Revisionist or not, it’s the truth.”

She leans into my touch, her eyes closing as I trace the shell of her ear with my thumb. “I love you.”

“I know.” My smile broadens as I pull her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Her body melts into mine, a perfect fit. Twenty-one days into our honeymoon, and I still want her with the same desperate hunger as our first time.

Our wedding three weeks ago had been everything our Vegas ceremony wasn’t. It was intentional, surrounded by family and friends and a true celebration. When everyone flew home after the festivities, we stayed behind, claiming this paradise as our own private sanctuary.

“I was just being friendly with the waiter,” she says, pressing her palms against my chest.

“Keep smiling in other men’s faces and see what happens.” The threat comes out as a husky promise as her hands travel down my torso.

“What exactly will happen?”

JJ’s fingers hook into the waistband of my trunks, pulling them down just enough to free me. I can feel the cool ocean breeze against my heated skin, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of her hand wrapping around me.

“JJ...” I trail off

“Do you want me to kneel before you and take you into my mouth?” she asks, her voice sultry and seductive.

“You know I do,” I growl.

Slowly, she moves down until she is kneeling before me and wastes little time before swallowing me. I can’t suppress the groan that escapes my lips.

The sensation of her warm, wet mouth surrounding me is almost too much to bear. I watch as she moves, her head bobbing slowly at first, then picking up speed.

The sun beats down on us, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the stilts of our villa. The scent of saltwater mixes with the intoxicating aroma of our desire.

I can feel the tension building, the pleasure coiling in my balls. JJ’s hands grip my thighs, her nails digging into my skin as she takes me deeper. I tighten my grip in her hair, my hips moving in sync with her mouth.

“JJ,” I groan, my voice a warning before stepping back.

Before she can process what’s happening, I execute the move I’ve been planning since I first spotted the waiter’s wandering eyes. I lift her by the backs of her thighs in one powerful motion, positioning her body so her pussy hovers above my erection. Her weight distributes perfectly in my grip.

JJ’s eyes widen in that delicious combination of surprise and arousal I’ve become addicted to provoking. Her hands clutch my shoulders for support, her body instinctively yielding to my strength. “Jaxon, what are you—?”

“Shh,” I command, holding her gaze. “Be a good wife and slide the crotch of your panties aside.”

She does as I say and I capture her mouth in a fierce kiss, my tongue plunging into her mouth as I lower her onto my cock. She’s wet and ready, her pussy gripping me tightly as I slide in. We both moan into the kiss, the sensation of our union overwhelming.

I break the kiss, my forehead resting against hers as I begin to move. Slowly at first, savoring the feel of her body sheathing mine. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the stilts of our villa matches the rhythm of our bodies.

“So tight, so wet. You’re made for me, love.”

She clings to me, her nails digging into my shoulders as she matches my thrusts. “Only for you, Jaxon. Always for you.”

JJ’s words ignite something primal within me. I grip her thighs tighter as I increase the pace. Our breaths mingle, ragged and desperate, as I claim her mouth again.

Her taste is sweet and intoxicating and drives me wild. The sun beats down on us, making us slick with sweat.

I break away from her lips, trailing kisses down her jaw, down her neck, until I reach the swell of her breasts. I tug aside the fabric of her bikini top with my teeth, freeing her nipple. I capture it in my mouth, sucking hard, and she throws her head back.

“Jaxon,” she pants, her eyes glazed with pleasure. “I’m close... so close...”

Her inner muscles clench around me, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice. She cries out, her orgasm ripping through her, her body shaking with the force of it. I swallow her screams with a kiss, my own pleasure building to a fever pitch.

But I’m not ready to let go yet. Her body goes limp in my arms and I press a kiss to her temple, her cheek, her lips, as I begin to walk us towards the bedroom.

Each step sends a jolt of pleasure through me, her body still impaled on mine, her inner muscles fluttering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. I feel the cool tiles of the floor under my feet when I enter our bedroom.

I lay her down on the bed, her body still wrapped around mine. She looks up at me, her eyes soft and sated, a small smile playing on her lips. I brush a curl away from her face.

“You know,” she says, voice low, “I used to think the night in Vegas was a drunken mistake.”

“And now?”

“I don’t think you were drunk.”

Her gaze holds mine, and I know there’s no point pretending anymore.

“No,” I admit quietly. “I was in love.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. I feel the tightening of her walls around me.

I lower my head to kiss her lips. “And I’d marry you again, JJ. Sober. Tipsy. Half-asleep. Doesn’t matter. I’d say yes every single time,” I whisper, as I begin to move inside her again. “You’re mine, Jessa Jamison and I love you more than anything in this world.”

And with the sound of the ocean whispering our names, we make love, our bodies and souls intertwined, our hearts beating as one.