Jax's eyes, dulled before, flickered to life for an instant. "What are you doing?" he asked with an incredulous look.

"What do you think I'm doing?" I slid my hand up against his fast-rising bulge. "I'm getting you hard."

Jax looked around the parking lot nervously. "Not right now, Riley. I—this may not be a good idea out here."

I leaned forward to the front console of the convertible and pressed a button. "Does this make it better?" I asked, moving to the back seat as the roof started sliding over the car, enclosing us in a bubble of privacy.

"I'm just not sure this will work," he muttered, embarrassed. "Since everything happened, I haven't . . . I mean, we haven't . . . I mean . . ."

I put a finger to my lips. "Shh. You don't have to do anything. I started something the day we met, and today I'm going to finish it."

He looked at me closely, his face a question: are you sure?

"Trust me. Just lay back," I said, my face turning into a grin. "You're in good hands."

When I saw him smile back, I pulled his zipper down.

His cock was as magnificent as the first time I'd seen it. I can't believe I fit that entire thing inside me, I thought, but the sudden tingling feeling between my legs told me that after so long without his touch, my cravings were as immense as he was.

I licked my hands to make them slippery, then slid them over the head of his cock, making him gasp with pleasure. Slowly, I moved one hand down over the other, keeping them both stroking in a steady rhythm.

"God, I missed feeling you," Jax moaned.

"I missed feeling you," I purred against his ear, grasping his cock harder.

As my fingers squeezed over him, Jax's eyes closed tight with pleasure.

Taking my palms away, I traced a line down the underside of his cock with my finger. "Open your eyes, Jax," I said, suddenly realizing exactly how I needed to get through to him.

"What?"

"Open them. Just keep them open."

His eyelids lifted, and dark-rimmed pupils stared into mine. I moved my fingers in tightening waves around the shaft of his cock, and his muscles grew taut, straining against his clothing, as I watched his face—the face of the rock star I'd made mine.

As I moved my thumb and forefinger to the head of his cock, still stroking with my other hand, his gasps grew quicker. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, and his breaths were almost a cry.

"Riley, be careful," he said, his words interrupted by shallow breaths. "It's been a long time. You're going to make me come."

"I know," I said. "I want to."

"Band will be back," he panted, his face etched with lines of effort. "Nothing to clean it up with."

"I can think of something," I said, and bent my head down toward his cock. I want you, Jax. Now do you understand?

"Oh, God, Riley. . . I'm not going to last . . ."

Good. If I could get Jax back, the old Jax, the Jax I knew. I kept my hand squeezing firmly as my lips slid around him and I took him into my mouth. His hands fisted into my hair as my tongue skimmed the head, and as I heard him cry out, I brought my lips around him even deeper.

Jax's body jerked, and my mouth filled with the taste of the sea as his fists tightened suddenly, then relaxed.

I swallowed and took my mouth and hands away slowly, straightening in the back seat. Jax looked at me with a mixture of contentment and awe. More importantly, he looked like himself.

"See?" I said, smiling and feeling just a little bit like a world-class sex goddess. "No cleanup needed."

He reached out an arm to put around me, and I nestled in against his body. It took everything I had not to press closer, but I knew that the flesh beneath Jax's shirt was raw and bruised.

It felt like we laid there a long time like that, not saying anything, not moving—just enjoying the feel of our bodies lying next to each other.

After minutes of silence passed, Jax took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about what you said before," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"Huh?" I said, blinking myself back out of the dreamy reverie I was in.

"About beefing up security for the concert," he said evenly. "I think you may be right."

"Wait, really?"

"It wouldn't hurt. I'll call about it tomorrow."

I narrowed my eyes, wondering what had brought on the sudden change of heart. Does it really matter? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Thank you," I said finally. "That means a lot to me."

Maybe he'd changed his mind because of the sex—but so what if he had? He was right. I'd been treating him like he was made of porcelain ever since the night of the Molotov, and that couldn't feel good.

But at least I'd managed to coax him out of his shell, and for now, even something that small felt like a victory. There was no way for me to know how long it would last, but I did know one thing—I would keep doing whatever it took to make him well again.

Chapter Eight

CHANGE

After our stop at Big Sur, we made record time to San Francisco with Chewie happily coaxing as much speed out of the convertible as he could on the winding coastal road.

And for the first time since Jax had brought me to the scene of his darkest secrets, I was happy, too—and it wasn't because of the awesome scenery. The whole rest of the way, Jax held my hand, even when he teased me. He laughed and joked with the band. From the surprised looks everyone shot one another, I could tell that no one was sure what had happened with Jax—not that it stopped us from enjoying it, just the same.

But every time I glanced at Jax's smiling face, I reminded myself of what he'd told me. He still had a long way to go to heal. I shouldn't expect changes overnight. And though the handjob had brought us closer than we'd been all week¸ we were still far from being back to normal. Not that we'd ever really had a normal relationship, but before all this drama we'd at least been free to simply enjoy each other, without Jax's demons coming between us.

Despite my wariness over Jax's good mood, he continued to surprise me. It stayed with him all through our first night in San Francisco, and even into the next day. And at the radio station where the band had their interview, he surprised me even more.

While answering questions from the pretty female DJ, he positively smouldered, making eyes at me that even made the show host take notice—because she thought it was all for her. As I watched from a seat in the back of the studio, I thought she would melt under the full force of his scorching persona.

Where did that come from? Maybe it was the handjob, maybe it was because this was a work situation, after all, but it seemed like my sexy boyfriend was back.

Don't get too excited. Jax still had a lot of trauma that he needed to deal with. But it did seem like he was improving—he'd even asked me to go out on a date after the interview wrapped up. I knew that Jax could put together one hell of a good evening, so I'd been looking forward to it for most of the day.

When the interview finished, Jax came over to where I sat in the back of the studio.

"Ready to hit the road?" he asked with a smile.

"I'm ready," I said, picking up my purse and standing up. "But I'm still dying to know why you insisted on me wearing sneakers today, instead of sandals. I'm a New Yorker, I can go miles in a pair of espadrilles."