Page 52

JACKSON

Ethan is quiet, more so than usual. He rushed out of here this morning before I could ask why he was meeting Rocco. If it were about money or the house, I think he’d tell me. It makes me nervous, but I trust Ethan. He’d never betray me.

We all end up eating dinner and watching a hockey game on the flatscreen the twins and I installed today. That was entertainment in itself, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it fell off the wall.

Scratch that—Dante is an expert at every task he puts his mind to. Desi, however, is easily distracted, and somehow, we finished with more screws than we should have.

Even with Ricky here, I’m happy. Getting along with the twins is easy. Desi is unpredictable, and Dante is chill—they balance each other out, and it’s great having people to joke with who don’t judge my every move.

It’s odd, but I’ll miss Ethan’s family when we leave.

Desi sets down his third bowl of chicken curry on the coffee table. “You like to cook? I figured you’d have a chef.”

“No chef.” I shrug. “My mother taught me to cook. It’s peaceful, and I love food, so it’s a win-win.”

Ethan breaks from the TV to stare at me, and Aurora does the same. It takes me a second to realize… I never talk about my mother.

I glance away, and Ethan seizes the opportunity to bust my balls, finally shaking off his broody mood. One thing I like about him: he doesn’t pity me. He has few outward emotions, and pity is rarely one of them.

“You sure you didn’t grow up with an entire team of maids and butlers?”

“Staff wasn’t allowed in the house, asshole.”

Desi eyes me skeptically. “You do your own laundry?”

“Sometimes.” The only reason I haven’t done laundry here is because the washer and dryer are in the basement, and fuck that shit. I’m not about to piss my pants when a New York rat jumps out at me.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Ethan says with a smug smile. “The arena staff does his laundry. He doesn’t even tie his own skates.”

Everyone laughs except Ricky, who sits next to Dante, gaze fixed on the game, but I know he’s paying attention.

He’s not fooling me by biding his time, and he’s not gaining my trust to use Aurora. I’ll kill him first.

I’ve never actually killed anyone—not even Aurora’s ex. I just gifted him a shit-ton of cocaine and fifty grand and let the LAPD do the rest. Not my fault he accepted and had prior charges. That’s on him.

Given the chance, I’d happily expedite a few people into the afterlife. Ricky is lucky he’s not one of them—yet.

I have no intention of strangling him again. I won’t do that to Aurora. She’ll see enough of me fighting when I return to playing hockey. Plus, my hand is broken.

Now that I know he’s an agent and he keeps his mouth shut, he doesn’t trigger me as much. It also helps that I donated his boots to the homeless guy who lives in our alleyway. It’s winter. He needed them more.

It never stops slushing here. It’s not even snow; it’s rainy-icy-fucking-snow.

That vacation Aurora mentioned sounds better and better. When the season ends, I’m finding a secluded spot somewhere warm, and we’re staying as long as possible.

Maybe we need a yacht. I’ll have to ask Ethan. He shot down the private jet I wanted for away games, stating we’re required to travel with the team. I’ll amend that in my next contract, if there is one.

Aurora snuggles up to me on the couch, snapping me from my disordered thoughts that somehow went from laughing to murder to buying a yacht.

My brain has been tripping since the three of us had sex. I swear, I’m not having a psychotic break.

“That curry was fantastic. Thank you.”

I kiss her forehead and notice her braids need to be redone. She would’ve taken them out before her photoshoot to give her those messy waves, but that never happened.

Not only can I cook, but I also memorized every food she won’t eat, and I learned how to braid her thick hair. I’m not terrible in bed either. I’m an all-around catch, if you ask me.

Desi clears his throat. “Do you three always sleep together?”

Dante punches him in the arm. “Don’t mind him. He has no filter.”

Desi hits him right back. “I’m wondering if I need to sleep with headphones tonight. Not all these walls are real.”

Aurora glances up at me with furrowed brows, and I shrug.

“They’re temporary walls used to create rooms in open spaces.” Dante points up. “Ours don’t have ceilings.”

My gaze gravitates to their side of the loft. Well, fuck. Look at that. “Definitely wear them. The old man snores.”

Ethan’s cheeks redden. “I do not snore, but this entire building will be awake if Jax is separated from Aurora. The last time he slept alone, he woke us up at the ass-crack of dawn like a toddler.”

“We had a doctor’s appointment, and I was eager to see the baby.” And, okay, I wanted to prevent them from having morning sex, shower sex, or any other type of sex without me.

Aurora stands, collecting our empty dishes, and I gently grab her wrist. “Babe, what are you doing? We can get those.”

She shoots me that sweet smile. “I’m going to the kitchen anyhow.”

When she returns, it’s with a pink box of cupcakes. She places it on the coffee table, opens the lid, and grabs a red velvet cupcake with white frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles.

I glance at Ethan with a blank expression. “Really? Heart-shaped sprinkles? Suck-up.”

He flips me the middle finger.

Aurora has Ricky for breakfast, me for dinner, and Ethan for dessert. Now that she’s not working—not that she knows, but Ethan is one controlling bastard, and I doubt she’ll ever work again after this morning’s uproar—there shouldn’t be any issues at her next doctor’s appointment.

Bringing the cupcake to her mouth, she takes a bite, frosting smearing her nose. Her eyes shut and she releases a soft moan, and my cock thickens.

I stare at her in awe. “When did you start liking cupcakes so much?”

She licks her lips and points to her belly.

My eyebrows raise. “The baby likes cupcakes?”

She nods, peeling off the paper wrapper and taking another bite.

A massive grin overtakes my face. “I knew that was my kid. Sorry, Ethan.”

He glares at me without a trace of irritation. “Don’t start that shit again.”

After she finishes, I stoop to kiss her. Right before our lips meet, I playfully lick her nose.

“You did not just lick my nose!” She giggles and pushes me away.

“You’re mine. I’ll lick you wherever I want.”

I prove it later that night, while Ethan is in the shower and we’re in bed.

We kiss, and our mouths taste like vanilla icing. When I go down on her, her pussy is a combination of sweet and Aurora, and my dick throbs.

“You taste so fucking good. My two favorite flavors: cupcake and pussy.”

“Jax.” She stretches out my name.

Her warning tone turns into a moan when I suck her clit between my lips, flick it with my tongue, then bite lightly.

“Your pussy. Cupcake and your pussy.”

She spreads her legs wider, and I dive in. I figure I have about five minutes to make her come before Ethan gets out of the shower.

Bonus points if she screams my name.

I flatten my tongue and tease her from hole to clit and back.

“Jax, please.” She tugs my hair.

I smile, secretly wanting her to beg. “What, babe? Tell me.”

She gives a tempting whine. “Make me come.”

I fuck her tight cunt with two fingers, knowing the perfect spot to have her coming in no time. Then, I stop. “What will you give me?”

“I hate you right now.” She rocks her hips with a whimper. “Anything.”

“Will you let us fuck you again?”

“Oh, that’s a hard bargain,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But sure.”

With a silent chuckle, I concede. I pull back the hood of her clit and circle it with the tip of my tongue. She grows wetter, her juices flooding my fingers and mouth, and I leak precum in my boxers.

I work my tongue faster, alternating between sucking and nibbling.

She writhes underneath me, fisting my hair, and I know she’s close.

I suck her clit harder, and she explodes.

“Oh fuck. Jax!”

Her cunt clamps down around my fingers, and a high-pitched scream fills the room. I don’t stop until I have every drop of her orgasm, and her limbs flop to the mattress.

“Oh my God,” she breathes.

Palming my aching erection, I crawl over her, ready to give her a second orgasm, when the bathroom door opens.

“Jesus Christ, you couldn’t wait ten fucking minutes?”