Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

Somehow Jax doesn’t hear me when I enter his room. I tiptoe to his window, grab onto the curtains, and open them with a dramatic flair. “Rise and shine!”

A strange snarl escapes him as he turns away from the light. “What the fuck?”

“Time to get up. We have a busy day planned.”

“Can you come back in a few hours? Better yet, don’t come back at all.” He grabs a pillow and covers his head. His voice has a rough tone to it, hoarse from waking up.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I take the opportunity to gaze at his naked back, covered with tattoos, barely an inch of space available. Smooth muscles strain, creating ridges across his body.

My fingers itch to touch him. I nearly give in, but somehow catch myself. “That’s a tempting offer.”

“Not as tempting as a morning blowjob. So, unless that’s on the table, you need to go.” The pillow over his face muffles his voice.

“Who knew you were such a charmer in the morning?”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me,” he says dryly.

My eyes strain as I attempt to make out the tattoos spread across his defined arms. I lick my lips, fighting with everything in me to not step closer.

Jax suddenly lifts himself up against the headboard. I rush to look away, but the smile on his face tells me how busted I am.

“Elena Gonzalez, were you checking me out? I’m flattered.”

“Please.” I roll my eyes. “I was questioning how quickly I could suffocate you with the pillow.”

“If someone told me I’d die in bed with you, that wouldn’t have been my first guess.”

My eyes drop to the hotel carpet as heat floods my cheeks. “I can’t believe you kiss your mom with that mouth.”

“She doesn’t mind me. It’s not my fault you have your Apple pencil permanently implanted up your arse,” Jax snaps.

I try to ignore the way his muscles tense and ripple from the quick movement, but I only have so much self-control around him. “Moving on… I have your first activity planned to help repair your image. Get ready because we have to be there in an hour. And be sure to wear workout clothes.” I exit his room without a backward glance. Let’s be real, I don’t have the kind of self-restraint needed to watch him get out of bed.

Jax meets me in the living room twenty minutes later. Adidas pants cling to his muscular legs and his black T-shirt emphasizes his toned form.

I’m tempted to hit myself for planning an event where I get to see him in all his fine glory.

“You’re going dressed like that?” Jax’s eyes start at my boxer braids a la Million Dollar Baby before roaming over my top and leggings.

“Yes. We’re going to be getting physical.” I do a little fist pump that should’ve stayed in an eighties’ workout video.

“Fuck my life,” he grumbles under his breath as we leave the hotel room.

His reaction fills me with pride I shouldn’t feel. No matter how much I desire his hidden glances and taunting, I resist for his sake and mine.

A quick car ride later, we arrive at the location of Jax’s first event.

“Shit. A boxing gym?” He looks at the lobby with wide eyes and an open mouth.

I smile at him. “Surprise! I’ve heard you like to box as part of your workout routine, so I thought it would be a good idea. At least it’s something you’re interested in besides your usual extracurricular activities.”

“Are you hinting at my sex life again?” he tsks.

“What sex life? The one with your right hand?”

Fans stare at us from all directions as Jax curls over, laughing. Even I’m caught up in his reaction—happy and carefree.

I regain my composure and pull him toward the welcome table.

“Fighting Back Against Domestic Violence. Nice choice.” He shoots me a genuine smile. One making him look youthful and unplagued with the worries bothering him more than he cares to admit.

“I thought it was an amazing cause to donate to. I invited a bunch of people from F1, plus local businessmen. All the proceeds are going to a UK-based charity helping support women once they leave their abusers.”

It took some additional planning, but I love the cause. I watch lots of documentaries, and one about a woman who described the grueling process of escaping her abuser stuck with me. I vowed to give back, so here I am, with Jax’s money funding the cause. Plus, I thought it would be the perfect first event to warm Jax up to my help while keeping his interest.

Fans and guests walk around us, chatting and participating in a silent auction. Mass amounts of people registered earlier, including F1 fans who are willing to donate a hundred euros for a few minutes in the sparring ring with Jax, Liam, Santiago, or Noah.

I turn to find Jax’s eyes on me. A weird sensation takes up a spot in my stomach, similar to the one I have when a plane is about to land. “I told you I’d help you with your reputation. But I didn’t mention how I plan on helping lots of people along the way with the help of your plush bank account and celebrity connections.”

“Only you would use my fame to help raise money for philanthropies. Bloody hell.”

“Your compliment got lost somewhere within your comment.”

“I don’t even mean it as a jab. It’s… This is incredible.” He looks around with bright eyes and a large smile. Almost as if he feels at home in the gym, surrounded by sneakers squeaking and swinging punching bags.

Before I have a chance to comment, the main person I hired to help set up the event interrupts us. She explains the goals for the day while Jax intently listens. His willingness to participate surprises me, especially when he messages other racers to make sure they’re coming.

Over the next few hours, I try to tear my eyes away from Jax in the ring, but I find it hard. Like harder than his muscles flexing under the bright gym lights hard. His skin glistens from sweat and he has a permanent smile on his face all morning. It’s so breathtaking, I find it hard to stare for an extended period of time. Kind of like looking at the sun too long with my eyes burning and my skin growing hot.

“Want me to take a picture of him for you? They usually last longer.” A tan woman I instantly recognize as Noah’s girlfriend, Maya, shows up by my side. Maya is a bit shorter than me. She dresses in similar workout gear to mine, with her brunette ponytail bobbing behind her. “Awesome event, by the way.”

“So great and I love the cause. Maya, take a photo of me while you’re at it. I’m going to send it to Liam’s nieces.” Sophie, with blonde space buns and a matching fluorescent sports bra and leggings, waves at Maya as she walks toward the ring. She looks small compared to the raised sparring octagon.

“She loves a good photo moment.” Santiago Alatorre throws an arm around his sister’s shoulders as his brown eyes glance over at me. His dark hair drips with sweat after his round of sparring with a fan.

“Sunshine, I told you to stay five feet away.” Liam leans against the cables as he smacks a kiss on top of Sophie’s head.

Sophie makes a gagging noise. “I told you to stop calling me that months ago.”

“Not my fault when you’re dressed up like that.” Liam flashes her a cheerful smile as he shakes his head, and a tiny sense of jealousy floods through me. Not at them in particular. God, no, I don’t like Liam like that. It’s more because I find it difficult to ignore my sense of loneliness at seeing a couple truly happy and in love.

The last relationship I had was ages ago, before Abuela got sick and I started working the F1 circuit. That coupled with my inability to imagine a future with them set me up for failure. I didn’t think I’d miss having a romantic connection with someone but seeing a happy couple hits me hard.

“Why do you want her to stay away? I’d donate a thousand euros to see Sophie kick your ass in there.” Noah takes a sip of water from Maya’s bottle.

“I’d like to watch her try. Jax taught me how to spar years ago.” Liam lowers himself onto the gym floor.

“And you’re still terrible! I’d have better luck teaching Santiago to fight.” Jax throws his hands in the air as he follows Liam out of the ring.

Liam cranks his middle finger like a jack in the box. A soft laugh escapes my lips, bringing Jax’s attention back to me. His narrowed eyes fail to have the effect he wants, instead causing goosebumps to run down my skin.

Note to self: stop planning events that require Jax to take his shirt off. His abs are distracting for the onlookers.

Me. I’m the onlooker.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen Santi’s right hook.” Noah walks up to his friends.

“And don’t you forget it. One wrong move toward Maya and you’re done.” Santi throws a couple of punches in the air.

“Hey, it’s Elena, right? Do you mind taking our photo, please?” Maya offers me her camera.

Ignoring the increasing sense of loneliness, I snap a few pictures and return the camera to Maya. The group laughs as Santiago drags Noah into the octagon, claiming he needs to remind him what happens if he breaks his sister’s heart.

For the rest of the day, I feel Jax’s eyes on me, even when I pretend to busy myself with other tasks.

I shouldn’t notice it. Shouldn’t want it. But most of all, I shouldn’t wish for more of it.