One Night With Jolie

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JOLIE

His shower is the size of my bathroom. The water pours down from the rainforest showerheads, and steam instantly rises, clouding up the room.

“I don’t have anything to change into,” I point out, as Jax extends his hand out to me, helping me step beneath the heavenly water. Instantly, I’m silent, my head tilting back to allow the water to soak my hair, my eyes closing.

Jax steps in with me, the glass door sliding shut behind him. I open my eyes to see him gazing at me, the water cascading over his inked body, the art that I’d barely paid attention to. I love tattooed men, but it only makes Jax a thousand times hotter. I trail my finger over the flames on his chest, my finger leaving behind a pale path as I do. His hair is saturated, his hands pushing the water through it as I watch his mouth part, taking a breath before allowing his face to succumb to the flow from the shower head.

“Showers or baths?” I ask, searching around me for the shower gel. There’s an Arctic Blast blue bottle behind me, and as I lather my body, I inhale the partial scent of Jax.

“Showers. Can’t stand baths,” Jax says, leaning back so he can look at me through the streaming water.

I turn away, searching for shampoo as he catches my fingers in his, a delicious shock of electricity coursing through my body.

“But I’d get in one with you,” he smirks, taking the shampoo bottle from my hands. He squirts a small amount into his hands, before reaching up to my scalp, his fingers massaging it as he lathers my hair.

The scent of apples fills the air, and I groan beneath his touch. His fingers move in circular motions, the pressure changing depending on their place in my hair.

“I love your hair,” Jax mumbles, and I grin lazily, loving the compliments he showers me with. “It reminds me of white gold.”

My mum has black hair. We were like chalk and cheese in every way.

“You may look like an angel, but you’re not,” she’d slur, as I dragged a stool over to the kitchen counter, searching the cupboards for food.

I was so hungry.

“Mum, I’m hungry,” I’d plead, not knowing who else to ask for food. There was only me and her there.

I was ten.

“So fucking what?”


“Jolie?”

The soft tone draws me back from the past, and I realise Jax is staring at me with concern.

“Sorry,” I whisper, tilting my head back to rinse my hair. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the water disguises my tears.

Jax reaches forward, stroking beneath my eyes with his thumbs, as though he could sense my tears.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to him. “You can tell me anything.”

I can’t. I don’t want to.

“I know.”

“As long as you do know,” Jax says, and I force myself to look at him.

His eyes are filled with concern and confusion, but also something else.

Anger.

He’s mad with me?


I’m used to people being disappointed in me. When your mother tells you daily how much she wished she’d had an abortion, you kinda get used to vicious remarks and snide looks. When your stomach hurts from not eating anything but a school lunch most days, whilst your mother makes you lie to your aunt to keep her at bay.

You get used to the anger. But instead of becoming a doormat, I stood up for myself as an adult.

I won’t be anything like her.

“Who?” Jax frowns, and I blink, wondering how he had read my thoughts.

“What?”

“You won’t be anything like who?” Jax says, reaching over to turn the water off. The silence is hostile, and I long for the sound of the water again. “Your mother?”

“I’m not an alcoholic so I guess I’m alright,” I force a smile as Jax hands me a towel, wrapping one around his own waist. He sits on the edge of the tub as I shrug. “I just get distracted sometimes.”

“Tell me.”

I tuck the towel around my chest, shaking my head with a stiff smile.

“Tell you what, exactly?” I snap, unable to control my tongue.

“Anything. Everything,” Jax says, holding my gaze. He’s unperturbed by my reaction to his question, and I’m paralysed with the fear of the unknown.

“My mother was a bitch, an alcoholic who never recovered. She was spiteful and a shit parent. That’s all there is too it,” I say, striding past him into the bedroom.

The change of scenery eases the tightness in my chest, and I bite back tears when I sense Jax standing behind me.

“Yet you’re nothing like that,” he says gently, his fingers running softly down my arms. “Nothing, Jolie.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, hearing my mother’s voice instead of his.

“You think you’re special, don’t you? I wish you’d have died instead of him!”

“Breathe, Jolie,” Jax whispers in my ear, and I realise I’m sobbing silently. “You’re okay.”

I turn towards him, my eyes searching his as he stares at me with adoration. This beautiful being who doesn’t owe me a damn thing, is gazing at me like I’m made of gold dust.

“I should probably get going,” I whisper, as his hands drop to his sides, the hurt evident in his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve taken up enough of your time, and I’ve got things to do—”

He tugs me towards him, his fingers gripping my chin as he gazes at me, shaking his head.

“You can never take up enough of my time. I can’t imagine what you went through, sweetheart, but you’re not alone now,” his hands drop to my stomach as he sighs. “You’ve got us.”

“Thank you,” I say, as he strokes my face, his eyes searching mine.

“What do you say to taking up the rest of my time by joining me in bed for a bit? I’m still tired, and judging from your yawns you are too.”

“Only if we get to eat that lamb later,” I grin at him, as his eyes light up.

“With all the trimmings? You wanna help me cook?” He asks, a boyish grin on his face.

“Trimmings?” I laugh, as he nods.

“Stuffing, homemade Yorkshire puddings, honey roasted parsnips—”

“You had me at stuffing,” I say, standing on tiptoes to meet his lips.

He dips his head, kissing me back with a groan. “Why are you so beautiful? I need to sleep.”

“So sleep,” I sigh, resting my head on his chest. He kisses the top of my head before pulling away, heading to a door across the room. He disappears into it, coming back out in a pair of boxers.

“Okay. Now I’m wide awake,” I chuckle, drinking in his abs.

He walks towards me, thrusting a light blue t-shirt into my hands.

“Here you go. I’m happy for you to stay naked or in that towel, but I’m a gentleman.”

I take the top from him, tugging it on. I sigh with relief as his scent washes over me, and I glance down to see it covers my upper thighs.

“Thanks.”

“No,” he murmurs, his gaze travelling over me. “Thank you.”

“Are you thinking about sex again?” I laugh, allowing him to guide me to the bed.

He spins me around, allowing me to fall onto the bed. “Maybe just oral.”

“My hair’s wet!” I shriek, as he smirks, parting my legs.

“I’m more interested in whether you are,” he smirks, disappearing in between my thighs.

His tongue laps at my core, and my thighs clench, his fingers cupping my ass as he devours me. Fireworks erupt in my stomach, and I gasp as my hips buck against his mouth. He’s greedy, lapping at me like he’s starved.

“I love your taste, your smell. Your pussy is fucking divine.”

The vibration from his words sends me spiralling out of control, my hands clawing at the bedsheets around me.

“Isn’t it my turn,” I gasp, my eyes rolling back in my head as he licks me like I’m a fucking peach drizzled with honey. His lips suck then alternate with his tongue, sending me dizzy with lust.

He exhales against me and I cry out, the sensitivity too much for me to handle.

“Probably, but you’re too addictive,” he rumbles against me, as two fingers plunge inside of me. Combined with the tongue caressing the length of my vulva, and his lips sucking on my clit, I’m losing it.

Low moans leave my mouth as I writhe on the bed, the sheets bunched up in my fists as my pleasure ricochets through my body, like a bolt of lightning, firing up every fibre of tissue and flesh as it rips though me.

Jax holds me in place as I buck and shudder, before he finally releases me, leaving me breathless.

I can’t even move. He shifts me up the bed, resting my head on the pillow before spooning behind me.

“Sleep, my beautiful.”

And as the sheets drape over me, his hands sliding around my swollen stomach, I allow myself to feel content.

In Jax’s arms.












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