Jonquils for Jax: The Rousseaus #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 12) (15 page)

Saul put a hand on Gard’s shoulder. “Remember, son,” he said in a low voice, “fighting gets you banned.”

Gard’s head jerked slightly, an action of acknowledgment for Saul as he stared back at Brad with utter hatred.

“Hey, Brad,” said Johnny, putting his arm around Brad’s shoulders, “let’s get you some food, huh? Frankie D.’s got some coffee coming and we can just—”

“Fuck off, junior.” Brad shrugged Johnny away and turned back to Jax, his smarmy, drunken smile fixed in place. “I want to meet Gard’s girlfriend. What’s your name, honey?”

Gard pulled her closer, his fingers clamping harder on her upper arm, and she swore she could feel the furious pounding of his heart. She could feel how much energy it was taking for him to restrain himself.

“Jacqueline,” she said, lifting her chin and staring back at Brad. She’d met more lecherous types in Hollywood than she could count. Big, bad Brad had nothing on them.

“Jacqueline,” he said, his voice holding a hint of mockery. “Sounds…expensive.”

“
Nique ta mere
,” growled Gard under his breath, and it was so out of character, Jax swallowed a gasp. Even her brothers rarely used that particular, extremely vulgar, expression.

“Come on, Brad,” cajoled Phil. “Time to eat something, buddy.”

Meanwhile, Gard just stared at Brad, his eyes black with fury. Who was this? Who was—
Oh my God.
Suddenly it all clicked in Jax’s head like an epiphany.
I found her with my partner. My first partner, Brad…In my apartment…In
our
bed.
Merde.
This
was Gard’s first partner. The asshole who’d betrayed his trust and cheated with Gard’s girlfriend.

Phil had put his arm around Brad’s shoulders, and they started steering him away when Jax exclaimed in a cheerful, playful voice, “Wait! Wait a second! You’re…
Brad
?”

“What are you doin’?” muttered Gard.

She winked at him, then looked at Brad, who’d turned around at the sound of his name. “Uh, yeah…?”

“Oh my God, this is such a coincidence! I’m friends with—” She wracked her brain to remember the name of Gard’s slut ex-girlfriend. “—Tiffany!”

“Huh,” he said, a smug smirk moving back into place. “How d’ya know
her
?”

Ummm…
“College. St. Joe’s. Went there with this one too,” she said, jabbing a thumb into Gard’s stomach. “In fact, that’s how we got together. I called his place looking for my old friend, Tiff, and he said she’d just moved out. We started gabbing, went out to dinner. The rest is history. Right, baby?” she asked, looking up at Gardener adoringly.

He gave her a dark look but inclined his head just slightly to play along. She winked at him again, then turned back to Brad.

“I did
eventually
track down Tiff, though. You know, to talk about old times…and she told me all about
you
! Brad! Brad, the police officer with a wife and two kids who used to be Gard’s partner, right?”

“That’s me,” he said, leaning closer. His breath smelled of stale beer and her stomach rolled. “Ain’t married anymore. If ’ole Tiff told you anything you’d like to try…”

Gard took a step forward.
Talk quick, Jax, or he’s going to throw a punch!

“Oh,” she said, smiling at him with wide eyes. “I’m not really into that stuff.”

She watched Brad’s forehead crease in confusion. “Stuff?”

“I don’t judge,” said Jax holding up her palms. “If you need to wear adult diapers to, you know, get excited? Good for you.”

A communal gasp was followed by a muffled snicker as Phil and Johnny exchanged shocked looks and started laughing.

“Wh-what? What’re you—”

“And I’m just not into grown men calling me ‘mommy.’” Jax cringed dramatically, then brightened. “She said she didn’t mind spanking you…though she thought the way you’d say “Wah, wah, wah” and pretend to cry was a little…” She shrugged. “I guess it’s fun for some people, but I’m not a fan.”

Brad’s face had gone from pink to red to purple. “What the
fuck
are you—”

“When she said you liked crawling around on the floor and sucking your own thumb, I guess I just—”

With a chorus of snickers and hoots behind him, Brad lunged at her. “Shut up, you lying fucking cunt!”

She didn’t know how everything happened so fast, but suddenly Brad was lying on the floor, knocked out cold, and Gard was rubbing his knuckles.

Phil, Johnny, and Saul stared down at Brad’s body in various states of amusement and disbelief before looking up at Gard with wide eyes. Only Frankie D. had the presence of mind to say, “I guess the widdle baby needs a nap. Why don’t you kids get out of here?”

Jax grinned at the older man, who winked at her with something that felt very much like admiration. She waved good-bye to Gard’s friends as he took her other hand and pulled her to the exit.

***

As soon as their feet hit the sidewalk, Gard dropped her hand, bracing his palms on his knees as he let out a bellow of laughter that he’d been holding in ever since he’d realized what she was up to. Glory Lord, if he thought she was amazing before, she was downright miraculous now. When he stopped wheezing with laughter and could finally breathe again, he straightened, looking up at her.

“Duchess…you are…”

“Yes?” She was smiling at him, her shoulders shaking with laugher, her emeralds sparkling with mirth as she met his eyes.

“Magnificent.”

She giggled with glee. “More like evil.”

“No, no, no. He deserved it. But damn, woman,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her up against his body. “How in the hell did you…?”

“What? Come up with that?” She flattened her hands on his chest and shrugged. “I read about it in
Cosmo
.”

He shook his head, utterly delighted with her. “His face!
Mon dieu
, it was priceless.”

She sobered a little, her eyes and voice going soft. “He
did
deserve it. What he did to you was bad enough, but he was acting like such a jerk, provoking you by coming on to me!”

“He was always a bad drunk,” said Gard darkly.

“I didn’t want you to hit him and get in trouble.”

“So much for good intentions. But I think Frankie’ll cover for me. Brad was drunk enough; they’ll just say he passed out.”

“You’ve got a mean, fast punch, Gardener Thibodeaux.”

He nodded. “Saw red when he got dirty with you. Sorry you had to hear that,
cher
.”

“I have two brothers, remember?” She wrinkled her nose and shrugged it off. “Anyway, it was worth it.”

He chuckled again. “He’ll never live it down, you know. Never.” He looked into her eyes, feeling wonder and tenderness, gratitude and excitement, well up inside of him like a wave. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, pouring everything he felt into the feather touch before drawing back. “I like you, Jacqueline Rousseau. So much.”

“I like you too.”

Looking into her beautiful face, “like” felt so paltry, so stupid and small, for everything he was feeling for her. He wanted her to understand. He shook his head, leaning so close to her ear that he could feel the heat of her skin on his lips as he whispered, “I’m goin’ to fall for you, Duchess. Hard. Don’t know if it’s just for now or forever, but if it’s not okay with you, tell me now.”

She shuddered in his arms, her breathing shaky as she murmured, “It’s okay with me.”

He sucked the lobe of her ear between his lips, teasing the soft pillow of skin before trailing his lips down the side of her neck and grinning as she tilted her head away from him to give him better access. Her skin smelled sweet and felt hot beneath his lips as he rested them for a moment over the racing pulse in her throat. Suddenly she whimpered, reaching frantically for his cheeks.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, her deep-green eyes wide with lust and soft with pleasure as she looped her arms around his neck.

He was only too happy to comply.

Leaning forward, he seized her lips with his, lowering his hands to cup her ass as she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest. Her nipples beaded and he felt them, erect and hard against his chest, a reminder that she was just as aroused as he. And he was. Oh,
merde
, he was. His dick had started swelling the moment he’d pulled her into his arms, but as her tongue invaded his mouth, whatever blood was left in his head seemed to drain directly to his cock.

It had been such a long time since he’d had the privilege of kissing a woman the way he was kissing Jax, which not only engaged his body but—more and more—engaged his mind and heart as well. She was strong and beautiful, playful and sassy, the most fun he’d ever had, the hardest and fastest he’d ever fallen. And he fell…fell…fell deeper and deeper into the uncompromising attraction, tender longing, and fierce passion he felt for the woman in his arms.

She cupped his erection with the softness of her sex, cupped his head with her hands, her fingers buried in his hair, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her breasts pushing against his chest with every shallow breath.

“Come home with me tonight,” he said, nuzzling her ear with his nose, grabbing the lobe between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue before letting it go. “Stay with me.”

When she didn’t answer, he leaned back to look into her eyes and found them worried, uncertain. She flinched just slightly, then tilted her head to the side, giving him a tentative little smile. “You should know that
want
and
should
are having an epic battle in my head right now.”

“You just stole my line!” Chuckling softly, he kissed her forehead. “Who’s winnin’?”

“I had fun tonight,” she said, and her eyes, dark and warm, bore the truth of her words. “And I…I love what’s happening between us. But…”

He swallowed. “Too soon?”

He could see it in her face—how much she wanted him to understand. How she wasn’t turning him down or away so much as was trying not to rush things between them. He understood, of course, though, in his mind, her return to Hollywood loomed like a dark cloud, and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible before she left him.

“Too soon,” she confirmed.

He nodded, respecting the hell out of her for gently saying no when she wasn’t quite ready to say yes. “Okay.”

“But how about a lesson tomorrow?” she asked quickly, her eyes bright and hopeful. “My place? At three?”

“If you want.”

“I
do
want,” she said. “And…can you stay for a swim? And dinner? I’m a terrible cook, but I’m great at ordering.”

“I tell you what,” he said, “we’ll have a lesson and a swim, and if you buy the Abita, I’ll do the cooking.”

“I heard you make a great gumbo,” she said, clasping her hands together at the back of his neck.

He nodded, feeling happy even in the face of her gentle rejection. “We have a deal?”

“We have a deal,” she said, leaning up on her toes and pulling his head down to hers to seal it with another scorching kiss.

“The groin,” he announced, giving her a dry look.

Standing across from him in the gym, she looked up at his serious face and tried desperately not to snicker.

Last night, she’d driven them back to Haverford, her fingers laced though his for the entirety of the ride as they talked about their families. She learned a little more about his father, who—from what she could gather—not only had been a very successful businessman but was Gard’s best friend too. She sensed his deep sadness about losing his father, and though she shared a similar loss, she hadn’t been as close to her own father and couldn’t completely understand the depth of Gard’s connection to his. However, she also told him all about Mad, Étienne, and J.C., with whom she did share a similar closeness. He gave her a sidelong look after she described her brothers and proclaimed them both “trouble,” which made her chuckle because it was true.

After the intensity of their conversation outside of Club7, when they confessed their growing feelings for each other, there was something warm and reassuring about sharing details about their families. They were growing closer and deepening the bond between them.

When she woke up this morning, he’d been the first thought on her mind, the memory of their kisses making her sigh and the memory of his sweet words curling her toes.
I’m goin’ to fall for you, Duchess. Hard. Don’t know if it’s just for now or forever, but if it’s not okay with you, tell me now.
She loved that he hadn’t pledged his undying love to her or something equally as silly. They hadn’t known one another long enough for such declarations. The care he took in how he expressed his feelings made them feel ten times more real to her and mirrored her own perfectly. They were still from very different worlds. They were still getting to know each other. But they were also crashing into each other like they were fated to be together, and that they both felt it and recognized it was exhilarating.

Today he’d arrived a few minutes before three, and she’d kissed him hello, then taken his arm to guide him to the kitchen. She liked touching him, feeling the sinew of his muscles under her hand. But she also never wanted him to feel
blind
around her—worried about where to go or uncertain of bumping into something. When he was with her, she wanted him to tacitly rely on her eyes—she needed him to trust her, and it meant the world to her that he did.

When they reached the kitchen, she took the bags from him, emptying the contents onto the island counter.

“You’ll, uh…you’ll have to help me, Duchess,” he’d said quietly. “I won’t be able to see…”

“Can I be your sous chef?” she interrupted. “I’d love it!”

His face had instantly brightened, and she realized that the thought of needing her help (and telling her so) had weighed heavily on his heart.

“In fact,” she said, placing raw sausage and chicken into the fridge, “since I can barely toast bread, I’m going to make it a point to memorize everything you teach me. I’ll shock the pants off my sister and brothers when it’s my night to host dinner and I actually
make
something instead of ordering!”

“I haven’t made t’gumbo in ages,
cher
.” He smiled at her. “But you won’t be disappointed. My tantsy taught me well.”

“Your…tantsy?”

“
Tante
means—”

“Aunt.”

He nodded. “So tantsy is like…your mother’s best friend or your father’s first cousin. And in my case, my father’s first cousin also looked after me and my sisters.”

This surprised her a little. “Like a nanny?”

“Exactly.”

“You had a nanny?”

He shrugged, looking away from her. “She was family.”

She sensed that there was more to it than that and made a mental note to look up Gard’s father on Google. He hadn’t indicated that his childhood and upbringing had been exclusive or seeped in wealth, but he’d also gone to private school and had a nanny. He’d gone to a Northern school on full scholarship, but she’d noticed that his clothes were the same high quality as most of her peers. It would be gauche to ask about his socioeconomic status, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious to learn more about him.

“Jax,” he said in a stern voice, forcing her to return to the present. “The groin.”

Standing across from him in the gym, she looked up at his serious face and tried desperately not to snicker. “I heard you the first time.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Are you ten years old?”

“Nope. Twenty-seven.” She lowered her lashes, arched her back, and looked up at him, purring, “Can’t you tell?”

“
Merde
, woman. Can we just get the lesson over with so we can make out?”

Her eyes widened, and her voice was a longing whisper. “
Oui
.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “The groin is, for obvious reasons, one of the most vulnerable parts of your assailant’s body, which makes it a good target.”

“As we learned last time,” she supplied helpfully.

“Right. Thanks again for that.” He took a deep, annoyed breath. “A knee to the nuts will make the toughest man fall.”

“And did.”

“Jax!” he exclaimed, looking exasperated. “It’s hard enough—”

“Is it?”

“—to be alone with you, trying to teach you somethin’, when all I want to do is…”

“Is…?” she asked.

“Please,
cher
,” he groaned.

“Please what?”

“Please let me teach you a couple of things.”

“About…the groin?” she asked, unable to quit teasing him and knowing that he was just about at the end of his rope.

The thing was, she couldn’t concentrate either. She’d kicked herself a million times since refusing him last night. Not that she’d made the wrong decision, because she wasn’t ready to sleep with him quite yet…but his hands on her body? His lips blazing a trail of fire across her skin?
Yes, yes. Oh, please, yes.

“Jax,” he warned in a low, edgy voice. He stepped closer to her, his eyes black, his body all but stalking hers.

She let her eyes trail up his body provocatively, pausing at his pelvis and finally resting on his lips. “Yes?”

“
Ça va
,” he growled in surrender, his arm locking around her waist as he yanked her roughly up against his body. “You asked for it, Duchess.”

***

His lips slammed into hers, their teeth clashing together as he lifted her into his arms and she locked her legs around his waist, reaching up to plow her fingers into his hair and pull his head down to hers. Taking three steps forward, he backed her up against the mirrored wall, his tongue plunging into her mouth to tangle with hers, and she welcomed him with a low moan of pleasure.

With his hands under her ass, he supported her body and tilted his head the other way, his tongue never leaving her mouth, twisting, sliding, gliding against hers in constant, frantic motion, fast and greedy, a preview of what it would be like to fuck her.

She broke away from his lips, taking a deep breath, and he hungrily trailed his lips down her throat, licking and sucking at will as she arched against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, frustrating both of them through the layers of her bra and his T-shirt. Drawing away, he looked her in the eyes and lowered his hands, helping her slide down the front of his body until she stood before him, the back of her head against the glass, her back bowed. Staring into her eyes, he reached behind her back, his fingers alighting on her bra clasp and separating each hook and eye until the two pieces of material flapped open at her sides.

Holding her eyes like a lifeline, he reached for her shoulders, found the straps of her bra, and slid them down her arms until the fabric fell to the floor between them with a soft
whoosh
. He trailed his fingers slowly, deliberately across the line of her collarbone until they met at the hollow of her neck. Then he dropped his eyes to look at her naked breasts.

Perfect orbs of olive-toned skin with dusky-tan areolas and pert almond-colored nipples heaved lightly with her rapid, shallow breathing, lifting to him as though in offering. He seized her eyes again and she lifted her chin, her lips parting as she met his fierce gaze.

“
Vous etes si belle que vous regarder est une souffrance,
” he said reverently, waiting for her lips to tilt up in acknowledgment before he leaned his head and licked a slow, gentle circle around her left nipple.

She arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, her nipple slipping between his lips, and he sucked greedily, then gently, flicking his tongue back and forth across the distended flesh until she gasped and whimpered. He kissed a small trail between her breasts, sucking her other nipple between his lips as his hands reached up to massage the first. Her skin was hot and soft, a little salty and a little sweet, and smelled of Jax—of lemons and rosemary, reminding him of bright smiles and too many questions, making his own body harder and hungrier, greedy to touch and taste more of her.

She reached for his cheeks, pulling his face up and kissing him, her fingers trailing down his neck to his back until she reached the hem of his shirt. She pushed it up, her palms sliding flat against his skin and making him shiver. Breaking off their kiss, he reached behind his neck and pulled the shirt over his head, then pulled her against him, the hard, damp points of her nipples pressing into the naked skin of his chest and making him groan with longing.

“Lie down with me,” he growled softly, bending down to sit on a cushioned mat and pulling her with him. Grinning down at him, she straddled his lap, letting her breasts rake against his chest until she was fully seated, his fully erect cock sandwiched between them. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned her back until she was lying beneath him, and he moved experimentally on top of her, his erection sliding along the seam of her workout pants and making her gasp.

He kissed her again—kissed her chin, her throat, and the hollow at the base of her neck. Still lower, he took her pebbled nipple into his mouth as his hand slid lower, over the soft skin of her belly, pausing at the waistband of her pants for just a moment before slipping into her panties.

She arched up, whimpering as he razed her breast with his teeth and his fingers slid into the slick folds of her sex, finding the nub of her clit swollen and hot. He slid his lips to her other nipple, sucking it between his lips as his middle finger began a slow, circular motion over her sensitive flesh. Her breathing quickened and small noises of arousal lifted from her throat, making him harden like rock, throbbing behind the material of his sweat pants as Jax buried the back of her head into the mat, gasping and moaning her pleasure.

He increased the motion of his finger as he leaned up to kiss her lips. His tongue slid against hers and she reached frantically for his head, arching her back as he continued to caress her clit. His cock throbbed for release, and he thrust forward against her hip as her whimpers grew louder and deeper. He pushed against her again and again, still rubbing her slick, satiny skin until he felt her muscles tighten to a breaking point, making her cry out as they released in contractions beneath his finger.

He watched her face—her beautiful face—as she climaxed, and when she opened her eyes, as dark as pine trees at midnight, he felt his own release imminent. As she rode out the last shudders of her pleasure, he removed his hand from her pants and slid the same damp fingers around his cock, gliding his fingers up and down his erection with the slickness of her juices and quickly spending himself in hot, rhythmic spurts.

He fell back on the mat, his body slack with satisfaction beside hers. He could hear the sound of his own breathing in his ears, deep yet uneven, a little jagged, a little fast. Turning to the side, he faced her.

She stared up at the ceiling, quiet and still but for a tear that slipped from the corner of her eye and trickled into her hair.

“Jax?” he said.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes deep and green, swimming with tears.

Gard leaned up on one elbow, reaching with his free hand to cup her cheek. “Duchess. What is it?”

She clenched her jaw, looking away from him, back up at the ceiling. More tears slipped from her eyes, but she let them fall, and Gard didn’t whisk them away. Was it too fast? Too much for her?

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a second as if she was in pain.

“Then…?”

She sobbed softly, opening her eyes and turning her head again to look at him. “It was beautiful.”

Relief coursed through him like a drug, and he took a deep breath, filling his diaphragm and then exhaling slowly. Leaning down, he touched his lips to hers, gently, tenderly. When he drew away, she reached up to cover his hand with hers.

“Do you always cry at beautiful things,
cher
?” he asked, smiling into her eyes.

“Not always.” She chuckled and sniffled at the same time. “Sometimes.”

“There’s no shame in it,” he said, rolling her gently to her side and pulling her half-naked body against his chest. His forearm rested beneath the weight of her naked breasts, and his chest pushed into her back, his damp pants flush against her Lycra-covered backside.