Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter 3) - Page 21

“I think you really are crazy.” I tease, laughing that he brought me to the fountain just so I could dip my feet in. “Have you dipped your feet in?”

Slowly, Jax shakes his head back and forth, no.

“Well take your shoes off, Mister. I’m not getting cholera alone.”

Without argument, he does. I reach over and pensively feel the water…it’s freezing and the cool air of the late summer evening doesn’t make me want to jump in so quickly. “It’s cold,” I whine, sounding like a little girl, my nose crinkling.

Jax reaches down and feels the water. A wicked smile crosses his lips…just before he splashes me with a wall of water from the fountain, drenching me completely from head to toe.

“You. Did. Not. Just do that,” I growl, shocked by his actions.

Jax stands, folding his arms over his chest, an undeterred smile still spread wide across his perfect face. “I did.”

Trying my best to gather as much water as possible, I splash as much as I can back in his direction. Jax jumps back and not one drop hits him. He arches one eyebrow.

“I’m soaked!” I shriek, to which Jax’s dirty grin and another playful arch tell me where his gutter brain took my comment without the necessity of words.

I try again, in vain, to splash him, but it’s no use. I don’t have the element of surprise like he did and he sees it coming every time.

“Jackson Knight!” I scold, water still dripping from my nose.

“Lily St. Claire,” he mocks me in response.

“You wait. I’ll get even when you least expect it.” It’s a promise, not a threat. He doesn’t know it, but I can be a grudge holder, playing at getting even is a sport to me.

“Can’t wait.” He has the audacity to smile, like it’s something he actually is looking forward to. “Now, go on, dip your toes in.”

“Dip my toes in? Half my body is soaked, I hardly think it’s necessary for my toe to go in at this point.”

“Oh it’s necessary, alright.” Jax heads toward me, a look of determination on his face. I run the other way. It takes less than one full lap around the fountain until he catches up with me. Lifting under my knees, he cradles me as he walks toward the cold, flowing water. My playful cries completely ignored as he steps over the concrete circular bench surrounding the fountain and walks straight in with me in his arms.

“No!” I squeal, realizing he’s heading straight for the center of the fountain, where the waterfall is still running. I try my best to get out of his grip, kicking and screaming, flailing my legs around, but it’s no use. He only smiles with delight at my attempts as he steps under the ice-cold cascading water. We’re both drenched from head to toe by the time he climbs out of the fountain, me still in his arms.

I should be angry, but the whole scene is comical. It’s late, yet there are still a few people milling around and they’ve all stopped to watch the scene we’ve created. Some aren’t sure whether I’m really angry or we’re playing. Either way, with the size of Jax, and the muscles rippling through his wet shirt, not too many people would intervene anyway.

Both still laughing, Jax eventually places me back on my feet, sliding me down his wet, hard body. I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not, but the man has a way of heating me up, even when I’m soaked, wet and freezing. A chill passes over me as my chest glides over his.

“Cold?” Jax asks.

“What would give you that idea?” I reply sarcastically as I ring a puddle of water out from my hair.

Jax looks to my ni**les and back to me and smiles. No response necessary. “Here, put this on.” He hands me his sweatshirt. It’s as equally drenched as everything I’m wearing.

“Umm…I don’t think that’s necessary. I have my own dripping sweatshirt.”

“Your dripping sweatshirt is white and you’re cold. Put it on.”

I look down to find my ni**les protruding and my three layers of white clothes almost transparent. Jax is helping me put on his sweatshirt before I even agree.

***

The dripping has stopped by the time we arrive back at my apartment, but that’s the extent we have dried off.

“Do you want to come up and dry off? The paparazzi will probably have a field day if you go walking up looking like that.”

“Finally, something good coming from the photographers that hound me. I get an invite up,” Jax says with a devilish grin on his face.

After seeing his hotel suite, I’m pretty sure my place is going to look like a closet to him. It’s unlike me to be self-conscious about things, yet I can’t help but be a bit nervous as I invite him in.

“This is me. It’s not exactly a suite at the San Marcos, but make yourself at home.”

Jax looks around, taking in my shabby chic style. My old butcher block kitchen table surrounded by four different, ornately decorated, lush fabric chairs. Nothing matches, but it all works together. At least I think so.

“I feel like I just walked into one of those high end stores that are trying to look funky and chic. Except they come off as copied and imitating the real thing. I just never knew what they were trying to copy, until now. This place is great.”

I smile, keeping the fact that I designed and made half of the pieces to myself.

“Come on…I’ll give you something to change into.”

Jax follows me into my tiny bedroom. The closet is organized, but filled to the brim. I pull out a pair of men’s sweatpants and a t-shirt and hand it to him.

He takes it, but looks up at me hesitantly. “Are these…”

“Reed’s,” I fill in the blank. “He won’t mind. We keep clothes at each other’s apartments. Sometimes we do movie marathons and lay in bed for two days in a row.”

Jax nods, looking relieved. “Have you two been close since you were little?” He begins to peel off his pants.

“Umm…there’s a bathroom right over there.” I point down the hall.

“Sorry. Figured we were past the shy stage. You already saw me in my boxers.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “And I saw you naked.”

“Yes, but your boxers are soaked too…aren’t you going to take them off?”

Jax stops undressing and looks at me appalled. “It’s not cool to go commando in another guy’s pants.”

I giggle, “I’m pretty sure if Reed found out you were commando in his pants, he’d never wash them again.”

Tags: Vi Keeland MMA Fighter
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