Acts of Desperation (11 page)

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?”

I loo
ked up and saw Jax at my door. “I don’t know. What am I doing tonight?” I said with a smirk.

“It’s
the start of the weekend and nice out, want to hit The Banks, have some dinner, and walk around?” he asked.

A few weeks had passed since the steamy afternoon in his office, and we couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. Jax still hadn’t told me his secret, but I was trying to be patient and give him the time he asked for.

“Yeah, sounds nice. I’d like to go home and change, if that’s cool?” I said.

“Sure. How long before you can
leave?” he asked.

“I need to make a couple phone calls and put some things in order…’bout an hour.”

He looked down at his watch. “Great. I’ll swing by your house and get you around seven,” he said.

“Perfect.”

He leaned into my office wearing a three piece, fetching black suit. I bit my lip, drinking him in. He dropped his voice. “Hey, wear that little black skirt.” He flashed me a quick devious smile—one that I’d come to know well—and I knew exactly what was on his mind. “I’m heading up to the courthouse so I’ll see you later.”

“Ok,” I said,
suddenly feeling flush.

After he left, I finished up what I needed to do and went h
ome. I took a quick body shower and refreshed my makeup. I slipped into a newly purchased black lace bra and panty set. In all the time I’d been with John, I wore boring, full-back cotton underwear. I wore it to appeal to him because he said it was what he loved, but now I wore what I felt good in. I felt sexy and wanted, and this bra and panty set said it all.

I
grabbed my black skirt out of the closet. I slipped it on and thought back to the first time I’d worn it around Jax. He’d taken me to a movie that night, and when the lights dimmed in the theatre his hands drifted. I clutched my neck and closed my eyes, remembering what happened next. The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my reverie, and I trotted downstairs shirtless to meet Jax at the door.

“Hey, I’m just finishing up. Wan
na follow me upstairs?” I asked, peering around the door.

He stepped inside.
“To your bedroom? Wearing that? Twist my arm,” he said.

I giggled and ran away from him, giving chase. Once we hit the hallway, he caught up to me and grabbed me around the waist then carried me under his arm into the bedroom.

“Maybe asking you to wear this skirt was a bad idea,” he said and plopped me down on my bed. He lay down on top of me and pinned my arms above my head. “Is Liz here?” he asked.

“Uh
uh.” I smiled.

“Good.”

He let go of my hands and undid his pants. With one smooth motion, he moved my underwear aside and pushed himself into me. I arched my back and tilted my head back as I hooked my legs around his hips and pressed my feet against his ass, forcing him deeper.

“You’re a bad boy,” I said then let out an involuntary moan
as he moved inside me. He felt so good.

“Emm hmm. And don’t forget it.” He groaned.

Our bodies moved in sync with a familiarity we’d grown to know well. He leaned over, resting his full weight on me, and kissed my neck as his hands wandered down my arms. He locked his fingers with mine and lifted my arms above my head again. I closed my eyes and nuzzled my head deep into my bedding.

“Uh uh, look at me,” he said.

I looked up and met his eyes and smiled. He released my hands, and held my face then put his lips to mine. I buried my fingers in his hair, holding him to me and breathing him in. His pace quickened, and I reached down to scratch my nails against his backside. He traced his fingers over my ribs, down to my hips, and under my bottom. He grabbed ahold and pressed himself firmly against me and used his hands to rock my hips, rubbing my body against his, fitting us together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. My untethered cries from my release sent him over the edge. And, with each twitch I felt, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside of me.

I lay still, savoring the warmth of his body on mine.

“You’re not mad at me now, are you?” he asked with a sly grin.

“No.” I laughed. “I’ll need a few extra minutes now though. Go downstairs and help yourself to a drink. I’ll be down in a sec.”

He stood and gave me one more long kiss before going downstairs. I grabbed my periwinkle blue sweater set then went into the bathroom and cleaned up. When I got downstairs and approached the kitchen, I heard familiar laughter.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” I asked.

“There she is,” Liz said and smiled. “Look who I found poking through the fridge when I walked in.”

“Oh yeah?” I said looking at Jax.

Jax smiled. “What can I say…I worked up an appetite,” he said, shoving a bit of something into his mouth.

Liz grimaced. “Eww, gross. I don’t want to hear about what you two lovebirds do when I’m not around.” She smacked his arm and walked out of the kitchen.

Jax guffawed. Fortunately, since the day I’d introduced the two of them, they’d taken to each other like siblings. He intentionally said things just to get a rise out of her, and she bit on it every time.

“You kids have fun tonight canoodling, or doing whatever it is that you do, I’ve got work to do upstairs,” she said.

“Ok, see ya later,” I said. “You ready?” I said, looking at Jax.

“Yeah,” he said.
“Hey, actually I need to make a quick stop at my place. I forgot a little something I got you,” he said.

“Oh really? And am I actually going to get to see the inside of your place too?” I asked.

Since we’d started sleeping together, we’d stuck to staying at my place because he said his house wasn’t finished. I was actually growing slightly uneasy because not only did I not know his secret yet, but I still hadn’t seen where he lived either.

“Hey now, I’ve slowly been putting boxes away. Just don’t judge me too much when you see the inside, it’s still a little bit of a mess.”

“I promise my expectations are
really
low,” I said with a grin.

“Alright smartass, let’s go,” he said and spanked my butt.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the garage of his Brownstone, and he shut off his engine. He closed the door behind us, and I saw a door off to the left that I assumed led up to the inside.

“Shall we?” he said.

I did my best to contain my excitement. “Yep.”

I followed him
up a short flight of stairs, through the heavy door, and into the main floor. I stood, gaping at the beautiful living space and there must have been a hundred candles lit throughout the room casting a soft glow. A slow fire was burning in the living room bricked fireplace, and one of Pearl Jam’s mellow hits was playing in the background. Then, I was immediately hit with a heavenly aroma. A glass top table was set up just off the kitchen, in the dining room with two plates of food, and a decanted bottle of red wine.

“What’s this?” I asked.

He stood, grinning at me. “I may have bent the truth a bit, hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to surprise you.”

I
kept looking around the wide open space and stood in awe looking to the rich walnut floors and a newly renovated kitchen with simple cabinets that complimented the flooring. It had top of the line stainless steel appliances, and black granite countertops. The whole place was immaculate, modern, and simply decorated. But what caught my eye most was a huge wall of windows next to the dining room that lent a beautiful view of the city.

“I don’t mind at all. This place is fantastic,” I said.

“Thanks. I wanted it to be perfect for the first time you came over. I hired a chef to cook us dinner, and I specified your love of mushrooms. So, if you’re hungry, we should eat while the food is still hot.”

I walked over to the table and saw two steaks, seared to perfection, a large Caesar salad, a bowl of sautéed wild mushrooms, and loaded baked potatoes.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, this looks delicious,” I said, trying not to drool.

“Then sit down,” he said. “Here, let me take this.” He lifted my purse off my shoulder and put it on a table at end of the long hallway we passed on the way in that led to the front door. I took my seat and gazed out at the city scape.

When he sat down, he poured the wine. I swirled it around in my glass and inhaled the bouquet. It was a deep, rich red and had the distinct earthy bouquet of Bordeaux. My first sip confirmed my suspicion. Jax divvied up the salad then I dove in to the rest. The aged steaks had a crisp crust, and when I bit down through the tender meat, it practically melted in my mouth. The potatoes were soft and warm and had my favorite mix of rich sour cream, sharp cheddar cheese, crunchy bacon, and scallions; it was gooey perfection. I devoured all that I could of the buttery herb mushrooms, but finally had to stop before I made myself sick. Whoever he’d hired was a master at what they did.

“That was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” I said, wiping my mouth.

“Glad you liked it,” he said. “Why don’t l take your plate, and we can move on to dessert.”

“No, you sit. I’ll get these out of the way, but I don’t think I could eat another bite right now. I need to wait on dessert.” I stood and grabbed his plate and walked around the island to the sink. 

He came up behind me and set our wine glasses on the counter then wrapped his hands around my waist. “Just leave those, I’ll get them later. The dessert’s in the fridge, so whenever you’re ready, let me know.” He leaned in and kissed my neck then I heard a buzzing sound. “Is that you?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Yes, sorry.
It’s Bernie. I need to take this.”

“That’s ok. Go ahead.”

“Have a look around if you’d like.” He walked into his office just off the living room and shut the door. I went into the living room and noticed a small bookshelf in a little nook next to the fireplace that held a modest collection of books. I tilted my head to read the titles. There were the standard books that you’d expect every lawyer to have:
Tort Law
,
Civil Law
, and
The Life of Pi—
don’t ask about the last one, but we all have it. He seemed to be a big fan of Nelson DeMille. There were at least seven of his books. Oddly enough, my dad was a huge fan as well. I found myself smiling, imagining the conversation the two could strike up about
Up Country,
one of
my dad’s favorites
.
Jax hadn’t met my family yet, but I bet that would get him in good graces with my dad.

I noticed a few other hand carved knickknacks and interesting bookends, but then my eyes were drawn to a more weathered book shoved in between two larger books at one end. It was too worn to read the title from the spine so I tugged on it. It was
The Bell Jar
, by Sylvia Plath, an interesting book choice for a man. I flipped through the tattered, dog-eared pages, and saw notes scribbled in the margins in a woman’s handwriting. I closed it up to put it back, but a picture fell out. I picked it up off the floor and a girl’s face stared back at me. Whoever she was, she couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and had somewhat full lips and a pretty smile. There was something familiar about her, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. She had long brown hair, very similar to mine, and her light brown eyes, there was something about them, too.

“Sorry that took so long. Bernie’s working on something for me.” I turned and looked at him, and I’m guessing my expression said it all. “What are you looking at?”

“Who’s this?” I asked.

He ran his hand through his hair and laughed. “Oh, where’d you find that? I didn’t…she’s just someone I knew in college.” He took the picture from my hand, shoved it back in the book and returned it to the shelf. “I still need to show you your other surprise.”

“Wait…what?” I said as he grabbed my hand.

“Come on.”
He led me to the couch. “Do you want some more wine?”

“No, I’m fine for now. Who—?”

“Ok, then have a seat. I’ll grab us some water.” He went into the kitchen and filled two glasses. When he came back, he sat down next to me. With a couple punches of some buttons the music stopped, and the giant flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace powered up. He pressed play, and once I heard the music, I started laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” I said.

“What?” He smiled.

“
L.A. Law
?” I said, laughing.

“Season’s one through five. I got a box set. Maybe these guys can teach me their tricks,” he said
with a smirk. “I hear that Harry Hamlin was a real ladies man.”

We settled in next to each other, and I curled into him as we watched the whole first season. When the ending credits came on, he shut off the TV.

“See, a great series, isn’t it?” I asked.

“A show that combines both humor and dra
ma, what’s not to love?” he said, stone-faced.