Novel & Cerita Ragatha X Jax

"We haven’t worked together in years, but for this? He’ll come." My patience snapped. "Who the hell are you talking about?" Thiago’s smirk deepened. "Jaxon Cruz." The name sent a chill down my spine. Jaxon Cruz. The enforcer. The ghost. The man whispered about in underground circles. "You want to bring him into this?" I asked, my voice lower now. Thiago leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "I’d rather you hate me for keeping you alive than love me while walking into your grave."

They still hated each other’s guts. But the hate had become their favorite drug. Tonight, the tension finally snapped. Nova came home from a long, frustrating day at work—exhausted, stressed, and unbearably horny. The second she stepped inside, she found Jax in the living room, shirtless and doing pull-ups on the doorframe. Every rep made his powerful back, shoulders, and arms flex. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin, trailing down the deep grooves of his abs. His grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing the sharp V-lines that always made her mouth water.

Guide me. On the other hand Tony did his investigation about his boss's wife and Xavier was just waiting for him to tell him about it now personally, but rather he comes to my office and gives me a folder. "What is this?" Xavier says with his eyebrows raised. The info about your loving wife, didn't' you know that you marry a minor? Xavier open the folder and stated below her pictures: She is Raina Smith, 18 yrs. Old, her father and mother were named John Smith, and her mother died when she gave birth to her she is named Eloisa Smith. Both her parents are from Country L. She is in her second year in Meds. School.

The groans grew deeper, rougher, and then I heard it clear as day. My name. “Lila… shit, fuck yeah Lila, just like that you thick little cumslut.” My knees nearly buckled. It was Jax. That pierced tattooed mechanic who always looked like he could ruin a girl in the best ways, voice all gravel and need as he kept stroking. I pushed the door open a little more, quiet as I could, and the sight hit me like a punch to the gut. Jax stood there in the cramped space, pants shoved down around his muscular thighs, his thick cock out and rock hard, veins bulging along the shaft as he worked it with one big tattooed hand.

That’s when she heard the loud rumble of a truck next door. A big black pickup rolled into the driveway right beside hers. The man who got out was impossible to ignore. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair cut short, and arms covered in muscle and tattoos. Grease stains on his jeans and t-shirt. He looked like the kind of man who fixed things with his hands. He glanced over and gave her a small nod. “You must be Maya. I’m Jax; owner of the place.” His voice was deep and rough, like gravel. Maya felt a strange flutter in her stomach.

But the deeper I dug, the more I needed to see it for myself. Then he stepped into the cage. Jax Rivera. Twenty-seven. Underground legend. Tall, ripped, covered in scars and tattoos that told stories of every fight he had survived. Short black hair, sharp jaw, and eyes that looked like they had already decided how he was going to destroy his opponent. His body was pure power — broad shoulders, thick arms, abs carved like stone, and powerful legs that moved like a predator.

I wake up every damn day and walk into a living room full of tattooed, half-naked, weed-smoking men who all rap about how many bitches they’ve fucked while I’m the one sneaking Pop-Tarts into the toaster behind them like some kind of background character. And Jax? Don’t even get me started. He’s twenty-six, he’s the leader of the whole crew, and he’s been telling them since day one, “Raye is off-limits. She’s family.” Like, relax. He acts like the second their eyes brush over my thighs I’m going to get pregnant or something. Which, okay, maybe I would, because honestly, have you seen them? There’s Tre, the one who always has a blunt hanging from his mouth and that grin that makes you wonder

Trace is proud of what he did for many years, and his hard work finally has a result. "I am excited to meet you." Trace opens his eyes when the door of his office opens, and his fiance is walking in the direction where he is sitting. "Happy birthday, Mr. Billionaire, are you willing to buy me tonight?" Trace licked his lip, watching the woman who is wearing nothing, but her boobs and femininity are covered by icing. "I am willing to pay, I don't mind the price, come here my lost kitten." Trace tapped his thighs, and Beatrice, Trace's fiance obey what Trace instructed her to.

The sight was grotesque. “To even think about owning a woman,” Jaxon said slowly, “you’d have to be man enough first.” His grip tightened. “You’re still hiding behind your father’s shadow. What’s your identity, huh? What makes you think you deserve a woman like her?” His voice dropped to something deadly quiet. “If this were the old days where women were won in races… you would’ve been so far behind me you wouldn’t even see my dust.” His eyes burned. “Because when it comes to her,” he growled, “I don’t fucking play.”

“Why, yes, I am. Are you the committee representative who’s going to check on the progress?” Greta nodded. “Yes. My name is Algreta Oakshen. Nice to meet you.” “Freshia Rustess. Likewise,” the woman inclined her head. Then she glanced at Jai. “And this handsome young man?” Jai couldn’t help the raise of eyebrows at her comment while Greta smiled. “He is my escort. If you please, Mrs. Rustess, we are in a tight schedule. I’m informed of the mandrakes. How are they a trouble so far for the farm?”