Jax's Game: Book 1 of The Checkmate Series

Chapter 21

Jax trailed his fingers along her shoulder, circling the tattoos on her arm and leading to the curvature of her ass. Harriet shuttered from his touch and brought the duvet over herself, knocking his finger off.

"Stop, Jax."

He sighed, getting up and walking to the shower. He stopped at the mirror, admiring himself. His perfect abs, and chest hair leading down to his prominent v-line, he smirked when he saw his hardened cock, ready for another round. His smirk fell to a frown as Harriet wasn't up yet. Well, she was, but she clearly wasn't in the mood.

His hand gripped the dial, turning the shower on as he watched himself in the mirror. He felt his stubble, noting he needed to shave, and planned to do it after the shower. The hot water hit his hardback, muscles tensing as he raked his fingers through his brunette curls.

His cock hardened further, the throbbing shooting through his system. The pre-cum on display and need to be dealt with. He gripped his boner and imagined Harriet's sweet red lips around her. Sucking, licking, and fucking as he jerked off. His hand splayed against the tiled wall as he imagined such a filthy thing occurring.

"You can't go a day without fucking, huh?" His eyes shot up to see her leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as she watched him. Harriet had a blank expression, eyebrows raised as she shook her head, sighing. She had sweats and cropped tank on. He noticed how she wasn't wearing a bra. Her hardened nipples were poking through the white tank.

"Obviously there is something wrong with that tone of voice," he muttered, dropping his member, the mood clearly ruined.

She pushed off the doorway and headed out of the room. He shrugged, letting her take a breather until he heard a door slamming.

"Harriet!" he called, no answer, and he tried again. She left. His fist hit the wall as he yelled.

* * *

Harriet walked around that Paris morning – Saturday at eight a.m., barely anyone was on the local streets. She didn't exactly know what happened last night: she was tied and fucked. The thought made her shutter. Atticus was right. The bachelor pad wasn't what she thought it was and who knew what other toys were housed there or, better yet, who he brought there? She shuttered from just the thought.

Jax had done unspeakable things there, she concluded. He brought women there to fuck, destroy, and degrade. Harriet stopped in her steps, connecting the dots together. Jax was in Paris for weeks on end, telling Claudia it was a work trip. Was it really a work trip, or was it a sex trip?

Harriet couldn't believe it. She was brought to his fuck pad so she could be tied and destroyed like a whore at his own leisure. This can't happen. She was only on day two of the trip, but was she just a number? Just a fuck to him?

What she knew at that moment was that she needed a bottomless mimosa and a large coffee with Baileys. She deserved it after a night like that. Sitting down at the closest café, she ordered just that. Well, just baileys and coffee, as well as breakfast.

She needed to confide in someone, she needed to talk to someone about what just happened, therefore she called Cameron.

"He did what?" she exclaimed over the phone line.

"I am in public. I can't say it any louder."

"That kinky motherfucker. How do you feel?" she asked.

"I don't know. Sore. I just feel cheap and a whore. Like I was a little into it, but then it clicked that that was his fuck pad. He brought me to his fuck pad."

She heard her friend grimace, "Yeah, maybe tell him to sell when you guys get serious. Make clear boundaries. If you aren't into that, then tell him. You like sex, Har, I know you, but how far would you go is the question."