I’m sitting at the bar; the place is packed. It’s Saturday afternoon, a cold day on the riverfront, driving everyone indoors. I’m making small talk with the people seated next to me while sipping a beer.
I only came because my man wanted to play pool, and I didn't want to spend the day alone. But it’s getting old, and I'm ready to go. Canned country songs, small talk, lame jokes, and the smell of stale beer. I take a deep breath and give a tight-lipped smile to the man sitting next to me, telling me another joke. “Hey, why do women live longer than men?”
I raise my eyebrows and shrug. “Because they aren't married to women.” he laughs loudly and shoves my arm, making me chuckle.
I hear the familiar sound of the bell ringing on the front door, announcing someone new has arrived. I glance up, and that’s when I see him.
I freeze.
His eyes lock on mine, and everything else falls out of focus. The dust drifting lazily in the streams of light hangs suspended in the air. And the familiar sound of country music droning on the jukebox becomes a muffled ringing in my ears.
Not taking his eyes off me, and in what felt like slow motion, he makes his way to the bar and slides in between the barstools, between the man with the jokes and right next to me.
I can’t breathe.
“Hey beautiful, can I buy you a beer?” he offers, flashing a maddeningly crooked grin as he waves down the bartender.
I avert my eyes, finding my husband, who’s playing pool, completely oblivious to the energy exchange taking place within a few feet of him. The man follows my gaze to my husband, then back to me.
“Thank you,” I manage, lifting my beer awkwardly as evidence of my refusal, “I've already got one.”
He nods toward the pool table. “Yours?”
I nod, swallowing hard.
He smiles, clicks the inside of his cheek, seemingly unbothered. “Well, alright then.”
He leans in close, his hand sliding high up my thigh under the hem of my dress, making me gasp and sending involuntary goosebumps everywhere. My heart stutters, but when I look at him, the anxiety I thought I’d feel isn't there. He looks sincere. Sweet, even. His breath warm against my ear, he whispers, “Come find me later,” his southern drawl dripping with confidence. “I still want your number.”
He takes a few steps backward, biting his lip, looking me up and down, and winks at me.
My stomach flips, and my chest feels like it’s in a death grip. I have no air. Where the fuck is all the air?
I pause, watching him disappear into the crowd. Black hair, dark eyes, broad shoulders mixed with that country accent suggesting football fields and farm work.
After a few minutes, I took a sharp breath, the room fell back into focus, and the music seemed to fall back into time.
I’m not sure how long it's been before I catch sight of him again; he’s playing pool with my man.
He’s lining up his shot, leaning over the table, focused. The song Ends of the Earth by Ty Meyers blasts through the speakers, the bass thudding in my chest.
Right before he shoots, he looks up.
He spots me. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. His focus locked on me. His lips move, silently forming the lyrics directed at me, every word a message. “If you choose to love me… to the ends of the earth, I’ll be your man…”
A slow grin curves across his face. Then he gives me a deliberate wink and takes his shot. My mind is blank. This is bad. Am I hypnotized? A strange, guilty feeling wells up in my chest, an uneasy mix of nerves and something that feels dangerously close to excitement. He hands his pool stick to my husband without taking his eyes off me.
I stand abruptly. I need air. I need distance. I mouth to my husband that I’m heading out. He smiles, nods, and turns back to the table.
Cold air crashes into my lungs when I push open the door. I stand there, catching my breath, before walking toward the riverwalk. Even in the cold, the crowds are thick downtown, families, teenagers, drunk adults spilling out of bars. I weave through them, lost in my own head, heading toward the river and the sinking sun.
“Hey.” A deep voice vibrates through my chest. A hand curls gently around my upper arm. I jolt.
He is behind me, smiling down at me like he knew I’d end up right here.
He nods toward a narrow L-shaped enclosed stairway tucked out of sight between two concrete storefronts and guides me there. The steps lead up to a closed nightclub, the walls covered in bright beach murals. Jesus, my mind is reeling. Is this safe? What the fuck am I doing?
He reaches up toward my neck and hesitates and stops himself. God, I wish he hadn’t. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, looking me over. “Fuck,” his voice low, “I would have never let you leave that bar alone if you were my girl. But damn, I’m really glad he did.” His grin widens.
A flicker of irritation hits me at the dig at my man, but his hand slides to the back of my neck, slow and certain, and heat floods my blood.
He tilts my head and presses a slow kiss to my forehead. His thumbs hold my jaw, warm and filled with confidence. That simple touch nearly unravels me. That’s all it takes. His hold on me is instant and maddening.
He runs his thumb over my cheek, watching it slowly move over my skin, then looks back into my eyes. “Jax,” he murmurs low, “what's your name, beautiful?”
“El,” I barely choke out.
He smiles and stares right into me with these jet-black eyes, and pulls me toward him, but not all the way, leaving the choice in my hands. And I hate how badly I want to make the choice. One decision. That is all it takes to tear open or protect everything I have. Kissing him can wreck my entire life. Not kissing him doesn't feel possible and might mean walking away from something wild and electric.
His eyes drink me in. He raises his brows, then slides his palm slowly up my throat, squeezing slightly and tilting my chin upward further. My breath catches.
“Mmmm, girl…” his grin turns wild against my lips. “You like that?”
Everything about this man sets me on fire: his looks, that southern drawl, how he moves, the way he’s touching me, the way he doesn’t need to touch me at all.
So, I do. I lean in. And he kisses me, and I feel it absolutely everywhere all at once. I can hear the crowd below, but his hands demand my attention. My mind protests, but my body is all in. Soft, uncontrollable moans escape me, and the longer I let his hands explore, the more I realize stopping is less and less possible.
At one point, I do try to resist, but he just grins at me and pushes me against the wall, stealing what little air I have left in my lungs.
Then murmurs, “Aw, baby, you want me to earn it?” He sinks to his knees, lifts my dress, and immediately pulls my panties down to my ankles. He runs the back of his palms against my inner thighs and pushes outward, spreading my legs. My heart is pounding. I’m not sure I've drawn a breath in a deadly amount of time. He looks up at me and grins again before leaning in. As soon as his lips touch my skin, heat rushes, resistance vanishes, and I’m lost to the sensations.
I completely surrender to it, to him, and he takes full advantage. His tongue circles my clit, and he drags his thumb downward, pushing into my slit. I'm soaked, and as soon as his finger hits the moisture, he groans and slips his thumb inside me. I grip the wall as he slides his ring finger in, curves it upward, and pushes it forward, and with his thumb on my clit pushing inward, I could barely stay still. I've never felt anything like it, and I squeal loudly as my thighs start shaking and my core starts contracting.
He hums into my quivering bud, “Mmmm, El, did I find your G-spot, baby girl?”
He pulls back, his face covered in my desire. He licks his lips and drags his teeth over them before wiping his mouth with his forearm and standing up. I stare up at him. He stretches one hand above my head, leans in and kisses me, deeply and with an equal intensity and softness. I swear I forget where I am for a moment. I hear and feel him as he unbuttons his pants, zipper next, and the sound of leather moving through fabric, then the buckle hitting the cement.
He reaches down under my thighs and picks me up like I weigh nothing and holds my back against the wall. He lifts me slightly and lowers me onto himself, and I swear it was only moments before I was trembling again and pleasure took over completely. He pushes upward deep, stealing more breaths. Hands digging into my hips for leverage, he lifts and drops me on his rock-hard erection. His face buried in my neck, he lets out a deep, guttural “Fuuuck!” His body tenses, his grip tightens to the point I know there will be marks, and I can feel his heat flooding me deep with each shuttering of his body. His body weight pushes against me, his chest heaving against mine.
Afterward, he slides me down gently, both trying to catch our breath. He presses his forhead against mine. His fingers trail up and down my sides.
I chuckle nervously, “What the fuck was that?”
He flashes that crooked grin, “That was fated passion, baby girl,.” He brushes hair from my face and leans down and kisses me softly on the lips. “Damn, El, I wasn't expecting anything like this. But I'm sure glad I met you,” he whispers sweetly.
We stay there in the stairway far longer than we should. I know my husband is probably looking for me by now.
“I've got to go,” I say, standing abruptly.
“Hey, El, I need to see you again. This can't be all there is. Come back by the bar, anytime, I live in the apartment above it.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe,” I call, bouncing down the stairs into the crowd and back to the bar.
When I get back to the bar, my husband is still playing pool. I stand near him, and he barely acknowledges my return.
After a few minutes, I feel someone's finger glide across the back of my neck, moving my hair, and making me nearly jump out of my skin. Jax whispers in my ear, “Yeah, maybe? No, El, say I'll see you again.” his words seep into my veins.
My eyes snap to my husband; he's not looking. I nod, “Okay, yes. Sure I'll come by again.”
He walks a few steps backward before turning and mouths “Good girl.”
There’s a difference between butterflies and whatever this is. This isn't cute. This is pressure in my chest, fire in my lungs, and a kiss that can ruin me, and fuck… this was just the beginning.
