When attorney Jami Dillon strides into the conference room to meet her new client, she’s stopped in her tracks by an all-too familiar figure. Jackson Paige. He’s her tall, tattooed, and sexy as hell hook up from law school—who also broke her heart.
Jackson Paige was, in fact, Jax Pain, the drummer of Manix Curse.
That thing in Jami’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.
Jackson Paige, aka Jax Pain, has worked hard to put that unfor-frickin-gettable fling behind him and the nasty secret that made him leave her. Truth is, life as the playboy drummer of Portland’s hottest metal band hasn’t helped him to forget the fiery, sexy woman who stole his heart. Lucky for him, Jami was just hired as his band’s new attorney. But when he sees the look on her face when she realizes who her new client is, Jax wonders if maybe being this close to her again isn’t such a great idea. The explosive chemistry is there, but so are the dark secrets…
And for once she didn’t resist as he dragged her into the back part of the house where he knew there was a guest bedroom and en suite bathroom. She didn’t pull away when he tugged her into the empty room and pushed her up against the closed door. Instead she dropped that annoying in-control mask she wore like a shield every day, and she smiled. It was small, but it was a real smile. The kind where cartoon animals started singing and butterflies circled around their heads. Zip-a-dee-fucking-do-dah-day.
“You still have a thing for pushing me up against doors, Jackson.”
When his already hard dick somehow grew harder at the way she called him by his given name, he realized he must really be a sick fucker. Because he got hard, like concrete, as the image of the last time he’d had her up against her bedroom door flitted through his brain. They had finished studying for an exam she had the next day and stopped for bagels and coffee. Halfway back across the Oregon State campus to her apartment, the sky had opened up and dumped buckets on them. He’d caught sight of the wet T-shirt molded to her curvy breasts, and their waterlogged breakfast had been forgotten on the entryway floor.
Flashes of legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him, fingers kneading his damp shoulders, teeth biting her neck. Her cry as she came all around his cock. Fuck. How had he let all that fall apart?
“So why me and not one of the dozen or so women following you around today?”
He snorted. She was jealous. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss. Now hands above your head, sunshine.” She started to say something. Then her eyes grew wild and her mouth fell open, her body unable to resist the familiar command. She hesitated, a look of vulnerability flitting across her face. “Try to trust me.”
When she scrunched her brows and tilted her head, he smiled and cupped her cheek. “Trust me for now. Please.”
He could sense the quiet battle going on in her busy head. She was listing the pros and cons as well as every possible outcome to every scenario. Her big brain was always burning bright, which was why he loved the challenge of getting her to stop thinking and just feel.
“Don’t think, do.”
She sighed deeply, maybe giving in to the battle in her head. Slowly her fingers crawled up his abs and over his chest, each tap of her fingertips burning through his T-shirt and straight to his cock. He loved it when she let go and gave in. When she lifted her hands from his chest and clasped them over her head against the door, he was simultaneously filled with regret at losing her touch and relief that she had allowed him back in. Then she dropped her eyes. Slightly, but enough to send him the consent he needed.
So many years passed, and yet they could still communicate without words.
His hands traced her hips and small waist before he dragged his hands up, outlining her ribs through the soft material of her dress. He caressed her curves as his thumbs grazed her nipples, sweeping back and forth against the hard buds he could feel tightening through her sundress. With one hand he reached up and gripped her thin wrists. With the other he kneaded one ample breast, marveling at how perfect her tits were for his hands.
Her hips jutted and pushed against him. God, he wanted to lift her up and take her against that damn door. But he wouldn’t do that here, even if he sure as hell wanted to. He’d already messed with her head enough for one day.
“Jami, I’m not having sex with you.”
Her face dropped. “Why not?”
He lifted her chin with his finger and dropped a quick kiss on her nose. “Because we’re at an engagement party.”
“Oh my God, I hate you so much right now.” She pouted, her plump bottom lip poking out. That was new. “We could just forget the past for right now and hump like bunnies. We can deal with the regret tomorrow.” She pressed her hips into his.
“Yeah?” He smiled.
“Nope.” She huffed and pulled her chin from his fingers. Without warning, he picked her up.
She squealed, laughing. “What are you doing?”
“Taking the edge off,” he said as he placed her on the daybed against the wall and spread her legs wide. Reaching for the elastic band on her lace panties, he laughed, “Thank God you wore a dress.”
Award-winning debut author KASEY LANE writes sexy romances featuring music, hot guys with ink, kick ass women, and always a happily ever after. A California transplant, she lives with her high school crush turned husband, two smart, but devilish kids, two Papillions, three cats, and several chickens in the lush Oregon forest.