Authors: R.J. Lewis
I got what I wanted: a job. It didn’t take me long at all. Lexi recommended me to her boss at the bar she was working as a casual at. She told me he liked young, pretty girls because eye candy was good for business. They had me wearing this annoyingly tight white top with the bar’s name “Bar None” on it, and matching tiny white shorts.
Waitressing was an entirely new territory for me since all I’d done were cashier jobs. However, after I adjusted to being on my feet so much, I got used to the hustle and bustle that came with the job.
Jaxon tried to be happy about my part time job, but I could see he was torn up about it. I felt frequently guilty for hurting his feelings and leading him to believe I’d rather be working instead of being with him. He just needed to realize I had to do it for myself, even though sometimes I couldn’t understand it either.
Individual independence. That’s what this was. Lucinda’s words echoed into my brain, planted like a seed so deep, it took root and spread, becoming my top priority. I remembered the joy I used to get in high school when I got my pay-check every week. It made me smile and want to pat myself ten million times on the back. I didn’t need Jaxon’s dirty money when I could make my own now without the dirty associated with it.
I worked three nights a week, and while they did interrupt what was once our usual routine, I felt like I was still seeing Jaxon enough that I wasn’t going crazy without him. He took what he could get, waiting up for me when I got home from the bar, which was sometimes in the dead of the night. He never pushed for sex, never argued or complained about my job. He simply cradled me in his arms and listened to me talk.
“How was Lexi tonight?” he asked one time when I’d come home and crashed in bed next to him.
“She wasn’t in tonight,” I answered.
He stiffened next to me. “Who dropped you off?”
“Stacey. She lives down the street.”
He sighed. “You know you can ask me to pick you up anytime, right?”
“I know, Jax, but I feel too guilty making you come out when I know you’re dog tired.”
“I’m never too tired for you.” It was the affection in his voice, so genuine with love for me that made me forget about independence sometimes. It reminded me there was an Us, too, and I had to stop with this mad obsession of getting ahead “just in case”.
“I love you, Jaxon,” I softly whispered, turning over so that I was facing him. We were side by side and I could see him clear as day with the moonlight streaming through the window. Sometimes I never paid enough attention to his beauty. He could have any girl he wanted, and yet he was here, in bed with me, dealing with a change in me that would become more and more unpredictable.
“I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this world, Sara,” he whispered back, stroking my cheek with his rough thumb. His hands were calloused and coarse from his job, and feeling the prickly sensation of his skin hit me hard that he was doing all this for me.
He leaned into me and seared my mouth with his full lips, rousing me out of my tired state. I crumbled into his embrace, already breathless over the affect he had on me.
I greedily tore his clothes off and ran my hands up and down his hard chest and solid abdomen. I never grew tired of his body, of him, of
this
. He reciprocated until we were flesh against flesh.
Although we’d been sexual over a year and a half, there was still something so new about it. We were still learning what we liked, and we took things very slowly. He was attentive to me in such a way, I’d never been left unfulfilled. In the process, I learned all there was to know about pleasing him.
As I brought my hand lower to cup his length, his hand enveloped mine and stopped me from furthering my objective. He broke away from my mouth and wrapped his arm around me instead, bringing me as close as I could to his side.
“We don’t have to make it about that,” he said, sending feather light strokes down my back. “I’m happy just to hold you, Tiny.”
Sometimes you look at someone and the first thing you see isn’t their physical attributes, but their soul. In moments of seclusion and peaceful contentedness, I saw Jaxon’s soul shining brighter than all the stars in the sky. And like a magnet, I drew nearer to his flame, awaiting for him to ignite me and swallow me into his hopeful world where happiness is made possible with kind words and soft gestures.
Like this moment, for instance. He was content to just hold me to him without seeking his own personal pleasure. His contentedness seeped right into me, and I was smiling dazedly up at him, watching my star shine like no other.
“What made you want me?”
Because there are so many other women you could have.
“You’re perfection.”
“I’m far from perfect.”
“Because your idea of perfection is unattainable, Tiny. That’s why you can’t comprehend that you are. But you are. To me, at least. You’re everything right in this world, and I knew it back before I even understood it. Back when you were being bullied by that red headed bitch.”
“Jade Smith.” That name was burned into my being, specifically where all the bad things were stored.
“I saw a scared, sad little girl who closed her eyes and wished with everything inside her to be far, far away from her little world.” Jaxon traced a finger around my jawline, eyeing my face benevolently. “I felt something hurt in my chest every time I saw that short haired girl pass the hallway as quiet as a ghost with her eyes on her feet. I just wanted her to stop hurting. I always knew deep inside I wanted you, but couldn’t make the connection because I was a stupid thief who wanted desperately to be the coolest badass around.”
“You achieved all that.”
“And none of it made me anywhere near as happy as this: you, me, here in this bed.”
I kissed his finger when it neared my mouth to trace my lips. Then I brought my hand down again, feeling the hardness of his abdomen before I successfully managed to sear his arousal with my hand. The second I did, he leaned his mouth into me and kissed me fiercely as he moved over top of me.
Jaxon was dynamite in the sack. He was too good, learning my body as if it was a text book. He knew not to go rough on my nipples, and that the slightest suck and light flicker of my sex made me wetter. Kissing was as essential to him as our joining, as if he were re-establishing our bond with the language of our mouths. While he flicked his fingers over the folds of my cleft, he trailed wet kisses down my body, tasting every inch of me.
When I couldn’t take any more, he climbed back over me. Kissing me, he wrapped both hands around my thighs and slid right in, panting hesitantly in my mouth until he was all the way in. He stilled and rested his sweaty forehead against mine. “This never gets old,” he moaned. “I can do this forever with you.”
“I wish you would,” I said against his lips, breathing just as hard as the fullness of him took over my senses.
“You’d get too tired.”
“No way. Well…” Yeah, Jaxon could last for bloody hours. I knew that for a fact because we tried, and I couldn’t keep up with him.
His body shook with quiet laughter as I went crimson at the awful truth. “Shut up, Jaxon.”
He brushed his lips against mine, licked the corners of my mouth, and stared into my eyes with reverent love that hung thick in the air around us. I knew this Jaxon very well. The intimate, loving Jaxon that could tell me he loved me by the way he looked at me. Sometimes he’d be lost in me for ages, gazing as if he’d seen me for the first time in his life. This was the humble Jaxon that made my heart beat violently against my chest, made my body weak and limp in his arms, had me scorching hot under his penetrating stare. All was perfect in these moments, and nothing existed outside of this bed; it was just us.
He rocked into me, watching me closely as I writhed in pleasure. He thrust into me at an even pace, not too slow, and not too fast. He cried out with me, tightening his grip on my thighs. I felt his hot breaths on my face and the sweat on his chest.
I gasped as the peak hidden behind the corner was fast approaching, and gripped Jaxon tighter around the hips with every thrust, feverishly sucking his lower lip.
Oh, fuck!
I dug my nails deep into him and cried out as I was hit with that mind numbing tidal wave of pure bliss. He followed with his own release, slamming into me hard before stilling. I felt the pulsing of his erection buried deep inside of me explode, and he shook in his release, clutching me as if I was going to disappear right from under him.
“Perfect,” he reiterated against my neck. “See? You’re perfect, Sara. Fucking perfect.”
“As are you.” I smiled out into the darkness, content with life and this beautiful man.
“No,” he shook his head and looked down at me. Serious gaze and soft eyes, he said, “I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy. You have no idea what you’ve done to me. I’m wrapped around your pretty little finger. You’re carrying my heart, babe. It’s in your hand; it’s yours. I don’t want it back either. The love of my life was always there, standing in front of me. You. You’re it for me, Tiny. I’m yours. Always will be.”
“You sure about that?” I teased with a smile, never wanting to admit the bit of seriousness in that question.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you’ll get tired of me, and tired of my body.”
He chuckled. “You have no idea how impossible that is.”
“Why?”
“You’re my ultimate.”
“In what way?”
“Every way.” He was telling me the truth. I was his everything. His ultimate. But my own insecurities got the better of me, and my thoughts twisted daggers into my heart at the reminder of Lucinda.
You’re his ultimate today, Sara, but what about tomorrow? He might leave you broken hearted one day, unexpectedly. Don’t depend on him or his words.
*****
I wished I wasn’
t so fucked up, that I could go back in time and have avoided Lucinda that day at all costs. I was so happy before our talk. I wasn’t filled with doubt, with the frightening possibility that someone I loved and cherished had the ability to deceive me, abandon me; that never crossed my mind until she said those words. My heart had somehow hardened, fending off potential pain with anger I couldn’t justify.
I scolded myself relentlessly for holding myself back because I could see it was affecting my relationship. I was more reserved and in constant need of reassurance. Yet I couldn’t open up to Jaxon and tell him about my talk with his mother. He would have called her up and given her an earful and I didn’t want to betray her trust. But then I was betraying him too by not being open and honest. Fuck, how did I get myself caught in the middle? They both meant so much to me, and to have them at odds with one another by opening my mouth was the last thing I wanted. They had a great relationship, after all, and I didn’t want to be the reason for any falling-out.
I swallowed it down and plodded through the year. Exams were a bitch because I could hardly concentrate. I was caught up with my own insecurities, and my lack of sleep for having picked up more shifts at the bar was starting to hit me hard. I became a stress-ball, spending as much time at the library whenever I had any free time. I couldn’t afford to lose my scholarship on top of everything else.
I saw Jaxon less and less. It got to the point he would show up at the bar during my shifts, still in his messy work clothes, watching me contentedly while he sipped a few beers with
Trevon.
Even filthy, he was irresistible, and every girl in the bar knew it. Of course there were times
he would shower before showing up, and when that happened, they literally flocked to him like flies to a bulb, and I had to laugh at the way he brushed each and every one of them off, bluntly telling them he was taken.