Forever Starts Tonight (Wilder Family #4)

Chapter 5

Poppy

About an hour after I lay on the couch, the fire in the hearth dimmed from dancing flames to bright orange coals, and the room held a chill to it that I hadn’t felt when I first curled up under the blanket and attempted sleep. My brain raced too fast for any sort of rest. And now … I was cold. I turned, pressing my back into the back cushion, trying to seek warmth from the stupid piece of furniture.

The effects of the alcohol still swam in my head, but as I edged closer to sobriety, I knew I needed water and some painkillers. With the blanket wrapped around my shoulders and Jax’s too-large T-shirt draped around my body, I shuffled into the kitchen and found a glass in the cupboard, filling it with lukewarm water from the tap.

I drank the whole thing and sighed, leaning my weight against the counter while I filled the glass again. Maybe it was the wine or whiskey or the looming threat of a killer hangover, but I couldn’t drudge up a single shred of regret for any of the things I’d said or done.

Too long, I’d sat back and let my feelings for Jax hold the reins. Too long, I’d felt unseen and unnoticed by this person with such a visceral hold on my brain. Something needed to be done, even though it was drastic and rash, and I’d soon face consequences I didn’t like. I wanted to move on from this man—quite desperately. But it wasn’t always that simple, was it?

To make a decision to leave them behind, even if they’ve never given you any hope. He had, though, even if it was inadvertent. There had always been moments when I felt him watching me, but the instant my eyes moved toward him, his focus was elsewhere.

Tonight, though … he was looking. Each one of those looks, longer and more intense than anything he’d given me in the past, was like fire spreading over my skin. And the thing that made my tired brain race as I lay on his couch and struggled to get comfortable was, yet again, what he hadn’t said.

I gave him a clear opportunity to tell me he didn’t want me. Yet those words never crossed his lips. When my heart started racing, I rubbed at my chest.

What if he did want me? What if this was my opportunity, and the moment I walked out the door in the morning, he disappeared for one of his long trips?

He did it often, packing his bags and heading off to who knows where for weeks or a month or two. Cameron never told me where he went, and I didn’t ask either.

The timing was perfect, really. There’d be breathing room if this entire thing crashed and burned, and my ass ended up back on the couch.

I was never the impulsive one, but so far, nothing horrible had happened by showing up here. If anything, Jax was far more conflicted than I ever realized, based on the searing heat in his eyes before he stormed off to his bedroom.

If looks could conjure naked orgasms, then the one he gave me would be the big daddy winner of all time. It wasn’t the way you looked at a friend or someone you pitied.

It wasn’t the way you looked at your best friend’s little sister .

Not unless you wanted to screw her into the mattress but refused to admit it.

Heat licked up my spine, and I blew out a slow breath.

Deep in the back of my still-tipsy brain, I knew I’d only be considering something this drastic because of the helping hand of alcohol.

Sober Poppy wouldn’t march into a man’s bedroom and climb under the covers with him.

Tipsy Poppy was a bit less concerned with consequences. Tipsy Poppy felt a little desperate to exorcise this man from her head, and at the moment, it felt like the best way to do it.

Just once. Then I could know and take the memory to my grave as the risky, impulsive thing that I did because I knew he wanted me but wouldn’t act because of my age and my brother and whatever arbitrary list he’d conjured.

This unexpected night felt safe. No one knew I was here. No one saw me arrive, and whether he realized it or not, Jax and his no-kissing rule gave me a surprising sense of security.

Was I capable of no-strings with a man who’d been at the center of every fantasy I’d ever had? Especially if I went into it with my eyes wide open. I wasn’t trying to change his mind or magically make him a romantic Prince Charming. That was something he’d never tried to be.

What he could give me, though, as Jax Cartwright—imperfect and completely upfront about it—was a night I’d never forget.

I ran a hand through my hair and stared down at the second glass of water, waiting for reservations to come clawing to the surface. Waiting for reason to prevail and sideline what insanity had gripped me.

It didn’t pass. And the longer I stood there, the more I didn’t want it to pass.

Pros:

The kind of sex I’d only ever heard about. Headboards banging and multiple orgasms (God, please let there be multiples) and dirty talk because if the look on his face was any indication, Jax was capable of excellent dirty talk.

Freedom from this thing over my head for years. A crush that could be left safely in the past because he was always honest about how he didn’t want anything serious.

Cons:

He might turn me down. He might toss my ass out of his bedroom and tell me I was a stupid little girl. See previous note about moving away from embarrassment.

But he might not. Maybe he’d curl his arms around me and say I could stay in the bed, but nothing would happen. The bittersweet ache in my chest was my answer.

I wanted that too.

Just once, for one night, I wanted to know, even if it sated only a small corner of my burning curiosity.

Decision made, I chugged more water and dug into my purse for painkillers, tossing two back to help ease the headache I’d likely have in the morning. Then I tugged the blanket off my shoulders and left it in a heap on the couch while I crept down the hallway.

His door was unlocked, and I eased inside as quietly as I could manage. Seeing the details of the room was impossible, but in the middle of the space was a king-sized bed. Light filtered weakly from the hallway, and I tilted my head to the side as I studied the way he slept.

Jax was on his back, his massive body filling the middle of the mattress, one big hand on the muscled expanse of his broad chest. A sprinkling of dark hair covered his pecs, and my mouth watered as my eyes tracked down the flat, chiseled stomach and the line of black hair that disappeared underneath the blanket bunched around his waist.

His chest rose and fell on deep, even breaths, and I felt my first moment of indecision. God, wouldn’t I murder someone for doing this to me?

Not him , I thought immediately .

If it was him climbing into my bed after our evening, my legs would open for that man so fast . I’d Venus Fly trap that shit, locking my thighs around him so he couldn’t move, and roll on top of him in the next breath.

I took a deep breath and eased the blanket up to slide underneath it. Jax didn’t move as I carefully edged closer toward his big, warm body.

Once I did, oh, the heat of his body had me melting into the mattress. It was like laying next to a furnace, and an involuntary shiver wracked my frame. For a moment, I curled onto my side, pressing my face into a pillow that smelled like him.

This was heaven. Clean and crisp and masculine—sandalwood and citrus and a sharp, delicious note that had my toes curling.

It was when I took a second deep breath and curled more fully into the pillow that Jax moved. He turned onto his side, one arm slipping immediately around my waist and tugging me closer.

My mouth fell open on a quiet gasp. I didn’t dare breathe because this was the part I hadn’t quite figured out. Some gentle touching to wake him, perhaps, but this was like an unexpected gift. The solid weight of his arm over my waist was glorious, and I snuggled closer into his embrace, my nose pressing into the skin of his chest.

God, if this was all I got for the rest of the night, I’d die a happy woman. I’d never ask for anything for the rest of my life. The size of his body dwarfed mine, and it would be so easy to tuck myself next to him and let the smell of his skin lull me to sleep.

This time, my inhale was greedy and deep, and let out a shaky inhale when his arm tightened slightly, the muscles in his biceps moving against my waist, his legs tangling with mine under the covers. His big thigh was between mine, and my jaw tightened to hold in a panicked laugh when I imagined a different way to wake him up. The shirt I wore bunched up around my hips, adding a sleek, wicked feeling to this relatively innocent embrace.

More. Oh, I wanted more.

My skin tingled as I registered it, and I found myself rocking forward slightly—a pervading emptiness that I wanted to chase away. His thigh was just far enough away from me that I couldn’t get any friction, which was probably for the best.

Without a single drop of more alcohol, I was drunk again in an entirely different way. Now, my blood swam because of him and how good it felt to wrap myself in his arms. The erratic thump of my heart was undeniable, and it stemmed from years of wanting this man. Something as simple as him holding me was enough to make my eyes burn and the bridge of my nose tingle.

I’d wanted this for so long, a quiet moment to pretend Jax was mine, and now that I had it, I wanted to tattoo it into my brain for the rest of my life. Something permanent to remember this night.

My hips shifted restlessly again. Jax made a low rumbling noise, his body shifting around mine, and I froze, waiting for him to jump away from me. I waited for the inevitable, what the fuck, Poppy? Waited for anger and embarrassment that he’d wrapped his body around mine like a giant, muscled python.

But he didn’t do any of those things.

His nose dropped into the crown of my hair, and his chest expanded on a slow, focused inhale as my eyelids fluttered shut. It wasn’t something unconscious because his hand slowly fisted into the back of my shirt, and his hips rocked forward then too, bringing our bodies closer.

My eyes flew open when they did.

Granted, my carnal knowledge of men’s bodies was … limited.

But for him to be hard that quickly was impressive. The size of him against my thigh had me shivering again. Why couldn’t he have just been average? It was some cosmic joke that Jax would be well above average, and now I knew it.

Watch … he’d know what to do with that thing too. If he could get me off with just that and no other help, I’d probably end up crying sad, sad tears at the end of this because no man would compare, and I’d be so much worse off for knowing it.

My head tilted back as I pulled in a sharp gasp. Should’ve added this to the cons list.

Jax Cartwright is too good at sex, and I’m ruined forever.

The hand fisted in the back of my shirt unclenched, sliding up underneath the cotton and curling dangerously around my hip, fingers denting my flesh while I struggled to keep my head clear.

This was getting out of hand. I needed to wake him up or back away to a safe distance.

Slowly, I pressed my hands against the warm, solid wall of his chest and tried to push back. Jax let out a discontented, growling noise that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I froze, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“Stay,” he whispered, rough and deep and tortured.

I let out a shaky breath, short puffs against his skin. “Jax,” I said quietly.

“Why do you smell so good?” He turned, shifting even more closely to me, arms tightening, hands pressing harder into my hips, his nose dipping to the skin beneath my ear. “So fucking good. I wish to God you didn’t.”

The hands on his chest meant to be pressing him away softened, and I dragged the tips of my fingernails along his skin. The muscles around me tensed, and he groaned, the edge of his teeth scraping the line of my jaw.

“Holy shit,” I breathed out. His tongue slipped to the shell of my ear, and when he sucked it into his mouth, I whimpered, rocking my hips along the muscles in his thigh.

“That’s it,” he ground out, his hands turning demanding on my skin as he mapped the line of my back, the curves of my thighs and backside with the rough skin of his palms and fingers. The edge of his fingers toyed with the elastic of my underwear, dipping beneath the light pink cotton, and I shivered.

“Jax,” I said again, louder this time. “I need to know you’re awake.”

Instead of answering right away, he placed a hot, sucking kiss on my neck, dragging his lips to my cheek, then the edge of my mouth. I was panting embarrassingly loud, but God, if he stopped now, I’d curl up in a ball and weep .

The temptation to turn my mouth toward his and take a kiss was screaming loud, an instinct that had my pulse racing, but I barely, barely kept it in check.

“You think I’m sleeping right now, Poppy?” He hissed when his impossibly hard length, barely contained behind the tight fabric of his boxer briefs, dragged over my thigh. “You crawl into my bed smelling like a fucking dream and feeling like sin, and you think I wouldn’t know it’s you?”

We hadn’t even kissed yet—wouldn’t kiss, based on what he told me—and I was ready to vanish my clothes with a snap of my fingers. I wanted them gone, wanted him over me, in me, and God, how I wanted this night to be as good as I always imagined it could be.

My chin tipped back helplessly at his voice in my ear. Everything went fuzzy in my brain, wiping out any reservation, any worry that this might not have been a good idea. All doubts and fears were swept away in an instant because nothing mattered in the entire world except this. Him and me in a dark room while a storm howled outside.

Electricity gathered between my legs as I pressed down on his hard body, and with his hands guiding the slow back-and-forth motion of my hips, he ghosted his lips over the line of my jaw .

“I might burn in hell for this, angel, but tonight, you’re mine.”

I continued rocking against his body, getting closer, closer, closer. That was when he wrenched the edge of my panties to the side and slid two big fingers between my legs. The shocked gasp at the sudden intrusion had him groaning into my skin. His tongue was hot and wet against my jaw, and the soft scrape of his teeth against my neck had me panting. Then he curled his fingers, and I let out a decadent, loud moan as a burst of heat skittered over my skin.

Good.

So, so good.

He pressed his palm against me, the perfect pressure as he rocked his hand between my legs, and I kept chasing, chasing, chasing what was just out of reach.

“Feel like heaven,” he said against my skin, then pulled his face back to watch me. “Don’t fucking deserve this, do I?”

“Harder,” I begged.

I could feel his gaze searing into mine in the dark room, and oh, how he gave me what I wanted with a deceptively simple twist of his wrist and a press of his palm.

Just before my back arched, before the crest of sensation cracked over my skin, Jax sucked on the side of my neck, his hot tongue laving over the skin.

And it was in that almost, not-quite-a-kiss, through the skillful way his mouth and hands worked my body, that the sharp, keening sound of my first orgasm escaped.

Deep from his chest, he grunted in satisfaction, never breaking his lips and teeth from my neck as my heart rocketed in my chest and my pulse shot to the sky with wave after wave of bliss.

He’d bruise my skin. He was holding my hips so hard as he rocked me through it. I wanted them. If this was my one night with Jax Cartwright, I wanted proof on my skin that it happened. His tongue swept over my jaw, his teeth scraping the skin there, and as my arms snaked around his neck, our bodies were so tightly wound together that there wasn’t even a paper-thin amount of space anywhere between us.

My hands wedged between us, scrambled to tug off my shirt, and he cursed as his own hands tore at his boxer briefs, immediately ducking down to run the flat of his tongue over my breasts when I threw my shirt onto the floor. He sucked hard, and I whimpered, his hands pulling at my underwear until I could shove them down my legs.

Frantic, greedy movements felt so very, very right. Because we both damn well knew that this was a stolen moment in the dark, something we hadn’t earned and nothing we could repeat.

It was only happening because inhibitions were lowered, and we’d both had enough of dancing around it for so long. I’d had enough.

An ache built in my chest when he dragged his nose over the hard edge of one nipple. It was so gentle, so opposite of what we’d done so far.

“So sweet,” he whispered.

He did it again, blowing a soft line of air over my impossibly tight skin, then dragging his nose across my sternum to give the same treatment to the other breast. Jax raised his palm, dragging it in ghost-like circles, whispering over the hard tip until my hips arched, and I sobbed his name for more.

“God, you’re pretty, angel,” he said, kissing the bottom curve of my breast, sucking on it in the next breath. “Could taste these all night.”

I couldn’t handle gentle from him. I couldn’t handle sweet and slow because then all the reasons this might hurt me would come rushing back to the surface. So I gritted my teeth and wrapped my hand around him, his hefty, hot weight in my palm slightly intimidating.

Before I said something stupid like, Are we sure this is going to fit? I decided to turn the table, dropping sucking kisses along his neck as my hand worked up and down. He folded a big hand around mine.

“Like this,” he whispered. He squeezed harder than I ever would’ve dared, and his answering moan had my toes curling.

He bit out a curse, sucking at my chest, his hands going hard and demanding again once they were back on my body. His teeth scraped my breast, and I cried out, Jax rolling us so he was wedged between my legs, his hands gripping my wrists to anchor them to the bed.

I tightened my thighs around him as he rolled his hips, teasing me until I shook.

“Oh fuck you,” I groaned.

He chuckled, dark and dangerous, and I felt it like a shock of lightning under my skin. Jax ducked down and spoke against my lips. “I will, pretty girl. You knew what you were doing climbing in here with me, didn’t you?”

I nodded frantically, gasping when he ducked his head down again and licked at my chest like an ice cream cone melting all over his hand. He sucked one tip into his mouth, and I cried out.

“Please, I want you. Please.”

Jax froze, his forehead resting on my sternum while he bit out a curse.

“What?” I asked, frantically wiggling my hips. Just … a couple of inches lower, and we could be having so much more fun.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I don’t have any fucking condoms. It’s been … months.”

My eyelids fluttered shut when the tip of him dragged between my legs. “Jax,” I pleaded. “Oh, I’ll die if you keep doing that.”

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, then tugged on my nipple with his teeth.

“Y-yes. For years. ”

He wrenched my thigh tight against his side, his eyes burning into mine. “Dammit, I’ve never done this without one. Poppy,” he warned, “tell me this is okay.”

“Please, please, please,” I begged, digging my fingers into his heavily muscled back. “Jax, please . I need you.”

The veins in his neck stood out while he clenched his teeth, fisting himself as he pressed his hardness into me. The groan he let out as he slid forward had my toes curling and the breath locking in my lungs.

Forward, forward, an endless, slow thrust until he bottomed out completely.

My chin tipped up, teeth gritting as I fought not to work myself against him. The delicious, perfect fullness was almost too much.

He got as far as he could, then pulled back, sliding forward again with a tortured sound that tightened the skin on my scalp. It was so, so good that every inch of my body filled with relief.

Jax pushed forward again, and I widened my thighs, hitching them up against his side. He sank like a stone, and my back arched, a helpless sound escaping my mouth at how full I was.

“God, Poppy,” he groaned into the skin of my neck. “You’re so good, angel. You feel so perfect.”

More. I needed more. When I shifted my hips, grinding against him just right, he braced his elbows on either side of my head, and oh, he gave me more.

Jax was relentless—long, even strokes, and he was so big, it was almost painful, riding that edge until I was gasping his name. The bed rocked forward, knocking into the wall as he gritted his teeth and pulled me into the endless wave of pleasure that built and built. I could hardly breathe through it, and it was so big , so big and overwhelming that it threatened to drown me.

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I think he was saying things to me. Filthy things about how tight, how wet, how incredible I felt.

He’s going to wreck me, I thought, the thought disappearing almost immediately with another ruthless snap of his hips. Jax was going to obliterate my heart with this one night, and I damn well knew it. And I’d welcome that destruction with open arms. I’d sit in the rubble for the rest of my life if it meant I could feel like this just once.

The head board slammed against the wall, and he gripped my thigh, wedging it against his chest, the angle had me seeing stars while he screwed me absolutely senseless.

My hand gripped the sheet, my heart rate impossible to sustain, and I just kept saying his name over and over while he rearranged every piece of my fucking soul inside my body.

The build climbed under my skin, a gathering of some invisible, crackling ball of energy that had my back arching.

“Come on, angel,” he said between gritted teeth. “Come on.”

He wrenched my thigh away from his chest, dropping down close to me again. My breasts pressed to his chest, and oh, I wanted to kiss him so badly, but I sank my teeth into the meat of his shoulder and felt the muscles in his back tense. With one hand, he gripped my hair and tightened his fist, and I clenched around him. It felt so good, and I couldn’t help but feel like the way we touched each other felt just shy of angry—maybe because we both knew this was just one night. Maybe he felt it too, the dangerous gathering at the base of his spine.

Jax snapped his hips again, grunting into my skin and his hand coming down in a sharp crack on the side of my ass.

Bliss—white and clear and endless.

The shattering of that ball of energy split into a million pieces over my skin, and I mouthed the edge of his jaw while I sobbed through my release. Another thrust, another pivot of his hips, then one more—even harder—and Jax tipped his chin up and groaned my name.

I wish I had that sound locked in a vault somewhere because it was the most amazing thing I’d ever heard.

He milked what was left, a slow rolling of his body as we both came down from the dangerously high highs, from the edges of the universe we’d created in this room.

I memorized all of it. The taste of his skin, the way he kissed my shoulders and chest as we lay there panting, the way he shivered when I dragged my hands over his back and sides and arms and shoulders. The way he pressed into my touch when I pushed my fingers into his dark hair.

And I memorized the way he curled me against his chest, one arm anchored around my back and my thigh slung over his. I fell asleep that way, the steady pounding of his heart under my cheek, and my heart aching because I knew that tomorrow, he’d probably never come near me again. Maybe it was better that way.