Page 40 of Jax & Knox

Jax turns a little more toward me. His knee presses more firmly against mine. “He’s not lying. Last night we had cereal for dinner. The night before that was gas-station burritos.”

I smile, small but real. “You’re both grown men.”

“Debatable,” Knox mutters.

Jax’s thumb starts moving slowly back and forth across my knuckles. The touch is so gentle it almost doesn’t register at first. Then it does, and my chest goes tight in a way that isn’t fear.

“You don’t have to keep everything from falling apart with us,” Knox says quietly. “You know that, right?”

I look down at where Jax’s hand covers mine. “I’m still learning how to believe that.”

“That’s okay,” Jax says. “We’re not in a rush.”

Knox’s hand slides a little lower, resting more fully on my upper arm. His thumb keeps up that slow, steady stroke. Jax shifts closer until his thigh is pressed all the way against mine from knee to hip. The space between the three of us has disappeared without any of us announcing it.

I can feel both of them breathing. Feel the heat of their bodies on either side of me. My heart is beating too hard, but it still doesn’t feel like fear.

Jax’s voice drops. “You can tell us to back off anytime.”

“I know,” I whisper.

Knox’s fingers brush the side of my neck, just under my ear. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

I turn my head and look at him. His eyes are dark and steady, waiting. There’s no pressure in them. Just patience. And something warmer underneath.

I lean in and kiss him.

It’s soft at first, just the press of my mouth to his. Then his hand slides from my shoulder into my hair, and he kisses me back like he’s been holding himself still for a long time. Slow. Thorough. When I finally pull back, his forehead rests against mine for a second.

I turn my head.

Jax is already watching me. I lean the other way and kiss him too. His hand tightens around mine, and he makes a low sound in his throat as he kisses me deeper, slower, like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth. When we break apart, he stays close, nose brushing mine.

Neither of them says anything right away.

Knox’s thumb strokes once along the side of my neck. Jax’s fingers are still laced with mine.

I sit between them, breathing a little uneven, and for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like I have to decide anything.

I just let myself stay there.

Knox’s hand stays in my hair, fingers combing slowly through the strands. Jax’s thumb keeps tracing the back of my hand. The quiet feels full.

I rest my head against Knox’s shoulder. He shifts to make it easier, his arm settling more securely around me. Jax leans in until his temple brushes mine.

“You okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

I nod. “Yeah. I am.”

Knox turns and finds my mouth again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, careful. When he pulls back, he brushes another soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my cheek.

Jax doesn’t wait. He kisses me next, lingering, once, twice, a third time like he can’t quite stop. “God, Ainsley,” he whispers against my lips.

Knox’s hand slides from my hair down to my shoulder, then lower. His palm settles on my thigh, warm and heavy. He doesn’t rush. He just starts moving, slow, steady strokes up and down the outside of my leg, from just above my knee almost to the hem of my shorts and back again. Each pass makes my skin tighten. Heat gathers low in my stomach, then lower. I’m already so hot, so wet I can feel it, my pussy throbbing with every slow drag of his hand.

Jax’s fingers leave mine and settle on my stomach instead. He spreads his palm flat over my shirt, feeling the rise and fall of my breathing. Butterflies erupt under his touch, sharp and sudden. He strokes once, twice, then higher. His hand cups my breast through the thin fabric, and he squeezes, firm, testing, claiming. A soft moan slips out of me before I can stop it.

It has never felt like this before.