On the Rox Read online

  But what if there was an accident?

  I made myself a cup of tea and rummaged through my box of books that I hadn’t yet unpacked. I settled on a historical novel that Elena had left behind—Memphis Queen by Christopher Kaiser. I would read anything to get my mind off my bird not returning to her nest.

  I made myself comfy, sitting up in bed, and thumbed through the pages when I heard it. That familiar slam of her car door released tension in me that I hadn’t realized I was holding on to. My shoulders dropped, my chest dropped, and my blood pressure dropped. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued reading. Rox was home safe, and all was well in the world. My phone buzzed beside me.

  What the fuck?

  Roxie’s name flashed across the screen.

  “Hello? Roxie, you okay?” I answered.

  “Are you? Your light is on! You’re never up this late, Gramps. Why are you up? Are you sick or something?” Rox’s tone caught me off guard. She sounded as worried as I had been moments earlier.

  “No. I just couldn’t sleep. How come you are up so late?”

  “Long night at the shelter. We had a new lady come in with two little girls. It was rough.” Her voice dropped low, barely above a whisper.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. You’re such a hard worker. I want you to know that I think you’re amazing for all the things you do. You seem to take care of everyone though. Do you ever do anything for yourself?”

  “Like what? I write poetry. You know that. That’s kind of for myself, I guess.”

  “That’s great! I think you need to do some more stuff, too, though—something just for you. You deserve to with all you’ve got going on. Also, I’ve been thinking, and I’d like to do something just for you, too, if you’ll let me. You work too hard. You should be taken care of as well.” I listened to her sigh softly into the phone.

  “I do take care of everyone, but I don’t need any help or anyone to take care of me.”

  I took a long sip of my tea and contemplated my next move. “I know you don’t need anyone to take care of you, but would you let someone if they wanted to?”

  “Depends. What would I owe them?”

  “Nothing. Why would you owe anyone anything?”

  “That’s just how it usually works. I feel like I owe them, or they usually expect me to owe them.”

  “Not for me. That isn’t how it is supposed to work, but if that makes you feel better, then how about this? We can make a pact or a treaty or whatever you want to call it. I pick three things I think you’d enjoy, and you pick three things you think I’d enjoy, and let’s do those things for each other. Will that make you feel better about me doing something for you?”

  “I get to pick three things for you to do?” Her voice lifted.

  “Yes, or we can do three things for each other. Just something for us—and only us.”

  “No DTF, eh? Sorry about them bombarding you. I heard all about it. Betty is just protective.”

  “As well as a good friend should be. No worries.”

  “So, this treaty, does it have any rules?”

  “Nope. As much as that makes my arse clench to think of what you could come up with when I say no rules, there aren’t any. The only rule we have is, no backing out. Does that sound fair to you?”

  My mind raced. Roxie would have me jumping out of a plane this weekend; I knew it.

  “I like this idea. I’ll have my list for you tomorrow. I’m down for whatever. I don’t think there is anything you could throw at me that would scare me, so let’s do it. You, on the other hand, be afraid. Be very, very, afraid.” She gave a maniacal laugh.

  “I’ve been in your witch’s lair. You can’t scare me away either.”

  “Good. I don’t want to,” she whispered.

  I smiled and reached over to turn off my light.

  “Rox, can I sing to you? A lullaby. I know you’ve had a rough day. I want to send you off with the best of dreams.”

  “Really? You want to sing? To me? Okay. Sure. I’ve never had anyone sing to me before or care about my rough days.” Her voice trailed off.

  I scooted down into the covers and cleared my throat.

  “Well, times are a-changing. Ready?” I asked.

  “Do it.”

  I sang “Blackbird” by The Beatles into the phone like I was on Broadway. My voice hit notes that I’d made when I was kicked in the nuts in high school. I even nailed that really high part about flying into the night. I finished off strong, ready to stand up in bed and give myself an ovation, but the silence from the other end made my heart plummet into my stomach.

  “Rox? Are you still there? Did I scare you away?” My voice shook. I worried my song choice hit too close to home with the broken wings reference.

  “That was beautiful,” she whispered.

  I heard the smile in her voice and let out my breath. I’d fucking scored. I pictured her in the window, holding up a ten scorecard.

  “Thank you. You’re beautiful. Sleep well, sunshine.”

  “Sleep well, rock star Jay.”

  I hung up the phone and fell asleep, smiling.

  I awoke the next morning, refreshed and ready to take on whatever life could throw at me. I had a beautiful raven next door to me, a job I loved, a new home full of possibilities, and a fresh start at life. I’d left my baggage in Australia, and now, nothing could bring me down. Nothing.

  The sun shone through my window as I eased myself out of bed and shuffled toward the closet. I slipped my running gear on and headed toward the door. Even the sight of her window and knowing she was in her home, still fast asleep, zapped excited energy into me. I jogged past her house and hit the trails, thinking of a list of fun things for Rox. I had endless ideas, but I needed to make sure these things were new to her. I wanted to sweep her off her feet and soar through happy experiences with her.

  I thought about reaching out to DTF but remembered we’d said this treaty would be between us only. I couldn’t break my vow. I wouldn’t even ask Aiden for help. True to my word, I would do this on my own—for her. Something told me she needed it, and I thought I did too.

  My feet hit the ground hard, and my abs tightened. The endorphins coursed through my body, brain, heart. My runner’s high lasted the entire run and even for a while after I finished. I returned home with a pep in my step.

  I danced toward the shower, turning it on as hot as it could go to knock the chilly morning off of me. A cold shiver tickled up my spine, but the sunshine next door had kept my brain on fire. I stepped into the steam, letting the water stream over my face, my smile, my cock. I reached down to give it a few tugs—you know, to clear my mind even more. I had an important task to finish. I needed the clarity that came with an empty mind and an empty ballsack.

  I shot my load all over the place while I imagined the way Rox had looked, bouncing on me. Her perfectly perky breasts moving in sync with her hips … up and down and up and down. The way she’d looked at me when I slowly drove myself into her. I needed that again, ached for it. Her blue eyes had practically begged for it, and I wanted to give it all to her. Everything.

  I knew, without a doubt, one of my assignments in the treaty would be a date. Maybe I could have a taste of her again then. For a fleeting moment, I thought about writing butt sex into the treaty but only for a moment. I still considered myself a gentleman. Butt sex could come later.

  I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off, flexing my pecs in the mirror. I shook my hips in a little happy dance and hummed love songs. Today would be spectacular. I would make it so. Maybe I would even stop by her taco truck for lunch—with flowers. I was going to get a dozen smiles from her because pleasing her was pleasing me—win-win. Endorphins kept pumping through my veins as my brain raced with sappy scenarios.

  My phone vibrated on the nightstand, interrupting my train of thought. I rolled my eyes, thinking Aiden wanted me to pick up something before work—probably more avoca
dos. Hipsters loved those things.

  I picked my phone up and read a text from Rox.

  Rox: Treaty of Treat Yo’self

  I hereby declare Jaxon Taylor to go to Westy’s, the amusement park, with me this weekend, to get a tattoo, and to write a poem.

  Signed,

  Your Partner in Crime

  Fuck.

  I read her text eight times, slowly, making sure I was reading it right and cursing myself for the no-rules rule. She wanted me to go fast, mark myself permanently, and share my feelings. I was utterly fucked—and not in the way I wanted to be either.

  Six

  Rox

  My work at the women’s shelter left me mentally and physically exhausted. Between caring for the women and children there and our taco truck business, I had become a walking zombie—albeit a happy, smitten, and banking zombie. The Shizzle Sauce had taken off at Scarlett Herb, and by the end of the week, they had already needed more. Layla and Betty had been quick to volunteer to make the sauce over the weekend. Nikki had said something about a hot bartender for Betty, and Layla had her eyes on Aiden.

  When it rained, it poured. For a group of women who had been single for so long, men were beginning to rain down on us.

  Nikki had had her date with the cute officer, and she said he hadn’t even put any moves on her and barely spoken a word. She didn’t like shy men. She needed loud, wild, and reckless guys to match her personality. Nikki had always been the daring one, trying new things. Lately, she had been starring at amateur night at the local strip club, The Steamy Clam. She’d brought in four hundred bucks just from that one night. We had told her it was her amazing talent, but she blamed the crystals—always the crystals.

  And as much as I didn’t believe in all the voodoo magic, there was no other explanation for the way I felt about Jay. He had come out of nowhere and blindsided me. Everything about him felt familiar. He was comfortable, peaceful, gentle—polar opposite of what I was used to dating.

  “He called me kintsugi,” I told DTF one morning during prep.

  “The fuck? I will kill him! You aren’t a kintsugi! What the hell is a kintsugi?” Betty slapped her spatula on the countertop.

  Layla and Nikki had stopped in their tracks, also posed to kill with their kitchen utensils.

  “No, no. It’s a good thing. I told him I was broken and flawed, and he told me that I wasn’t broken. I am kintsugi. It’s the Japanese art form where the artist melds together broken pieces with gold, making the art even more beautiful and valuable.” I continued stirring the pot in front of me, smiling. I hadn’t stopped smiling all day.

  “Aww, that is the sweetest damn thing I have ever heard!” Layla clapped her hands together. “I wish someone would tell me I was something like that. I think the best I’ve gotten is someone told me once that I was like a balloon. Flexible and full of air. I liked it then, but come to think about it, maybe he was trying to tell me I was an airhead,” she huffed out. “Bastard.”

  “Ha! Well, he was a dumbass then, Layla. But I do like the kintsugi line. I’ll give Jay points for that. He is only saying what we all already know though, Rox. You know it too. Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re a badass,” Betty said.

  Nikki had a far-off look in her eyes. “I like Jay so far. I think he’s a keeper. But what’s his flaw? He can’t be perfect. None of them are even close. What’s he hiding?”

  “Well, we haven’t gotten that deep yet. He hasn’t anyway. I’ve told him some things about my past, but he clams up and is very vague about his life. Also, he is much more vanilla and reserved than what I would usually go for,” I said.

  “Hmm. Well, I think maybe you need more vanilla and reserved after your last relationship. I think he came into your life for a reason. Maybe to balance it out. Divine intervention!” she whispered the last two words.

  We all groaned.

  “Don’t say it’s not true. Things are all coming together for us, and it’s because of the smudging and the crystals and the spells!” Nikki waved her hand in the air, motioning with an invisible magic wand.

  “Don’t you be doing that shit to me. I don’t want involved in any spells! That’s a one-way ticket to crazy town. I don’t need any more demons. None of us do. You’d better keep it at crystals and your smoke sticks. No voodoo dolls, no séances, no spells, no crazy shit. We’re all crazy enough!” Betty shook her head at Nikki.

  “Didn’t hear you complaining when I slipped that enchantment on Terrance at brunch,” Nikki muttered under her breath.

  “Please. I thought you were drunk and singing. He was enchanted because of my amazing personality and big, fat titties.” Betty cupped her breasts, holding them up to her neck before tearing her palms away and letting them drop. Like a mic drop, but it was a boob drop. It wasn’t her first time performing one.

  “Sometimes, it really is like that though.” Layla shrugged her shoulders.

  We couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I’ll figure out his flaw. I have an opportunity to see him again. Throw him in some situations. Get him to talk. We’ll see.” I winked at my girl gang and continued beaming while future dates with Jay played through my thoughts.

  I arrived home late again. My date at Westy’s was only a few days away, and as much as I had tried to catch up on sleep, I had been pulled in every direction lately. I glanced in my bathroom mirror, pushing the corners of my eyes up in hopes that they would stay there. They didn’t. I felt this year had aged me threefold. I would be thirty soon, and already, the crow’s-feet were starting to show up. They couldn’t be smile crinkles. I hadn’t smiled often enough.

  I growled at my stubborn skin, insisting it stop aging so damn fast, and made a mental note to drink more water and get myself healthier.

  Yeah, right.

  I shuffled my feet across the floor toward my bed. My guest bedroom had become my sanctuary after Tommy. The master bedroom down below held too many bad memories, so I had transformed the guest room into my safe space. This room was where I’d written most of my poetry, and I had never let any men in here until Jay. I stopped in front of my window, lifting the blinds and peeking out at his window, wondering if he was fast asleep.

  A light shone in his room, just as it had the last time I came home super late. That time, he had sung to me the sweetest of songs. He probably thought he had put me to sleep, but what he really did was rile me up. I totally rubbed one out after I hung up the phone with him. I had wanted to ask him over that night, but I also hadn’t wanted to come off as a needy clinger.

  But tonight, I could use some clinging. I sent a quick text to Jay.

  Me: Can’t sleep again?

  Jay: Your list has me anxious. It’s keeping me up.

  Me: Really?

  Jay: No, not really. Maybe just a little. Do you know I’ve never been on a roller coaster?

  Me: Wow! You’re … what, 30, 31? And never been on one?

  I tried to flip the conversation, so he’d start telling me more about himself. I grew tired of talking about myself all the time.

  Jay: 32. My mom was a bit overbearing. She never trusted rides at the amusement parks. We never really went because of it. I have been to a circus, but amusement parks and carnivals and such, not really. I am not trusting of them either.

  Mommy issues. Bingo, I thought.

  Me: Do you want me to change the treaty? We can do something else. I don’t want you worrying yourself.

  Jay: No way! We made a deal. Plus, I already have your items to check off too. Would you like to hear them? Up for a call?

  Me: Yep.

  My phone buzzed in my hand, immediately sending butterflies fluttering about my insides. I braced myself for Jay’s voice. That accent of his would be the death of me. He could tell me to go clean toilets, and I would do it with my panties off.

  “Hey there, Kintsugi,” he said. His words came out in a smooth melody, sultry and low.

  I slid my panties off and threw them across the room.


  “Hey.” I smiled. “How was your day?”

  “The usual. Busy as ever. But I’ve had you running through my mind the entire time. When things got crazy, I could feel your sunshine. You’ve set up camp in my brain. I keep replaying our rendezvous. The way you looked up at me with half-lidded eyes. That is etched into my soul.”

  Fuck, he has a way with words. He’s going to nail his poem.

  “I liked that too. A lot. So much that I’d like it more often.” My voice shook as I tried to catch my breath. I closed my eyes and listened to his breathing.

  “How about I do something for you tonight? It won’t be part of the list, but it’s still something I’d like to do. I want to try it out. For both of us.”

  “Another song?” I grinned, hoping he would sing me something dirty.

  “I want you to touch yourself while I give you instructions on how to do it.”

  Even better, I thought.

  My eyebrows rose into my hairline, wrinkling my forehead. I would age another year if he kept making me feel this way. I couldn’t hide my expressions. He made me feel alive.

  “Sounds like my kind of bedtime story. Whatcha got?” I acted innocent, as if I hadn’t already had my hand between my legs as soon as he called me Kintsugi.

  “First, I want you to slip your knickers off … slowly.” His command rolled softly off his tongue.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  I did not want to embarrass myself by telling him it was already done and done. Besides, he’d said knickers.

  Fuck. My toes curled.

  “Good girl. Now, I want you to spread your legs apart and take your fingers and run them up and down the inside of your thighs. Back and forth. There, that’s it. Gradually waking up your body.”

  My body was already awake and on edge, but I did as he’d said without question. My back arched, and my hips rolled. I needed him to break down my door and ravish me.

  “Now, slowly start to circle your clit and then bring that hand back up to circle your nipple. Gently squeeze it for me, imagining I am taking it between my teeth and tongue.”