Reckless (Forever 6)

"Thanks." I was grateful for her. Even though Jax had made me feel more wary than welcome, I was starting to feel more at home on the bus, and Sky had a lot to do with it.

As the band scattered to their rooms upstairs, I settled in with the button supplies. The rhythms of instruments flowed around me; I could hear the faint thrumming of guitars along with Jax’s velvety voice quietly echoing through the thin walls. In an attempt to keep my mind off him, I turned my body into an efficient, rhythmic machine. Assemble pieces, pull the lever, toss the finished pin in the big cardboard merch box. Assemble, lever, toss.

Jax "marking" me as his target and the outrageous spending aside, I was grateful to find that the rest of the band was pretty cool. This tour accountant gig was certainly better than sitting in a stuffy cubicle all day at Hans-Peterson. Although there was a hell of a lot of work to get done, I was oddly relieved by the prospect.

Jax may have liked challenges, but so did I. With all the opportunities to keep myself—and my thoughts—busy, I couldn’t help but feel a hint of smug satisfaction. He might’ve thought that he had the upper hand, leaving me to stew on our interaction this morning and also that towel-clad ass of his. But between the two of us, I was definitely the craftier one.

Night fell, and the once-empty box was nearly full to the brim with buttons. After the first couple hundred, it was easy to completely lose track of time—not quite as relaxing as yoga, maybe, but meditative in its own way. The only annoyance was the lever. It stuck just enough each time that I had to shove the machine with my shoulder, leaving me a little sorer with each button that went ker-plink into the box.

Small price to pay for avoiding Jax. Sky, Kev, and Chewie had come down for snacks periodically, but Jax never did. Fortunately.

Completing another button, my knotted upper back went into a full cramp. "Ouch!" I rubbed at the aching muscle and got up from the couch to stretch, only to hear my stomach growling loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day.

Looking around for food, the gleaming steel of the refrigerator caught my eye. When I opened it, I saw that The Hitchcocks' fridge was crammed with more pre-made sandwiches, salads, and reheatable meals than the band could possibly eat before it went bad. Imagining the amount of food that went to waste only made me crankier.

Sighing, I scanned the shelves, taking stock of my options, before spotting fresh fruit on the bottom level. I bent low to pick up what looked to be the last plum in the fridge. But when I reached for it, the fruit slipped from my hand, forcing me to bend further and lunge to grab it before it disappeared behind a case of beer. Cool air from the fridge wafted up the back of my skirt, welcome and refreshing.

"Looks juicy," a voice said behind me.

Straightening in surprise, I bonked my head on the shelf above me. "Ow! Dammit!" Massaging the back of my skull, I whirled around to find Jax leaning against the far wall looking exactly where my ass had been.

"Ripe, tender—must be delicious," he purred, arms crossed and stroking his chin. He nodded toward the fruit in my hand. "The plum, that is."

The dull throbbing on the back of my head was irritating, but him standing there looking all smug and sexy made it so much worse. He was wearing black jeans that hugged his toned thighs and a matching black tank that exposed the sculpted contours of his broad shoulders. His preference for black suited his personality.

"You just made me hit my head, you jerk," I accused, ignoring his innuendo. His insinuation had clearly been bait, and I preferred to avoid playing into his hands.

"You’re upset. And you hurt your head. Come here," he said in a casual tone. He pushed off the wall and spread his muscular arms, motioning for me to receive a sympathetic hug. "You need this."

The invitation was tempting, and I really could’ve used a hug, but I didn’t want one from him. There’d inevitably be strings attached. And Jax was good at plucking strings. "What I need," I said with a dismissive wave, "is my job, my paycheck, and for your band to stop spending so much money."

"I think you need more than you realize."

"Yeah, you’re right." I pointed grumpily at my stomach. "Like food." I lifted the plum to my mouth and took a bite. "Mmmm . . . just what I needed."

He watched me chew with seemingly greater interest than the activity deserved. I heard his stomach growl then he swallowed hard. "I came here for a sandwich, but now you’re making me want a plum."

I grinned when I realized I had the upperhand. "Too bad, this is the last one," I said with barely repressed delight. I couldn’t resist the urge to get back at him for all the shit he’d put me through since this morning, so I raised the plum like a trophy. "And it’s all mine." Bringing it back down to my mouth, I took an aggressive bite.

He’d been right—it was juicy, and my teeth sinking violently into the soft flesh made sweet nectar dribble down my chin. Too stubborn to wipe it off, I let it drip freely in defiance.

"Mmm," I moaned loudly. "So good."

His eyes narrowed as his arms fell to his sides. "You’re teasing me."

"Me?" I mumbled, mouth full. "Why, I’m shocked you’d think I’d do such a thing." I batted my eyelashes at him obnoxiously. I was still chewing what I bit off from my previous bite, but I took another chomp anyway and rubbed my belly for good measure. I could tell from his expression that I was pissing him off. I wasn’t ordinarily a petty person, but Jax was an exception; seeing him irritated by my antics brought me great enjoyment, since I knew he deserved it.

Without warning, he strode over to where I was, eyes focused intently on my mouth. His tattooed body and rippling shoulders set off alarm bells as he entered into my personal space. I could smell him—an earthy, rich, testosterone-loaded scent that was intoxicating.

An unwanted shiver of desire moved through me. I wanted to take a step back, but I held my ground. I couldn’t back away. Not here. I couldn’t show weakness around a man like Jax, or he’d try to take advantage of that weakness whenever he could.

I bit down on the plum again, savoring its juices and eyeing his presence warily. I searched his eyes in an attempt to figure out what he wanted, and when I saw the blaze in those inky irises, my grip on the plum tightened. If he wanted to take it, he’d have to use a crowbar to pry it from my fingers.

He reached out, cupping my face then brushing the side of my mouth with his thumb. He brought his thumb to his lips and sucked the nectar from the pad.