Tadc Jax X Reader Novels & Stories

I stood in the corridor and breathed carefully through it. He had not been certain of anything. He had been reading, the way sharp Alphas read when they had trained themselves to pay attention over many years, and I had confirmed nothing. But he was careful and he had filed something. I could feel the filing in the specific way the conversation had ended, the slight quality of a man cataloguing an unanswered question for later consideration. I found Jax. He was in the equipment room reviewing a tablet, and he looked up the moment I came through the door and read my face before I said a word.

He had a hand firmly planted on the small of Joshua’s back, his fingers splayed wide over the blue silk. The scent coming off Jax was a low, rolling thrum of Alpha dominance—neutral, powerful, and utterly foreign. "Dr. J," one of the Council elders called out, stepping forward. "We began to worry you’d been delayed." Joshua smiled. It was a beautiful, hollow thing. "My apologies. My partner and I lost track of time. Jax, this is the Harrington Council. Everyone, this is Jax Thorne. He’s a specialist in... private security."

I can't bear to watch you treat her like this”. Jaxon's expression turned icy, his gaze narrowing in reaction to the interruption. "And who do you think you are to meddle in our affairs?" I will not allow you to manipulate her feelings or take advantage of her for your own selfish reasons. Alex kept on saying. Jaxon looked at Alex and warned him to steer clear of us or else he was going to regret However, Alex just stood looking at Jaxon with contempt.

I shuddered. “Let’s figure out what ‘partially granted’ means before we start turning down job offers from the murder mainframe,” Jax said. He rubbed at the back of his healing arm, face tight. “You’re the hacker,” he added to himself, more than to anyone. “Act like it.” He moved toward the nearest console, eyes skipping over labels and readouts. I followed slower. Up close, the chaos of the room resolved a little. Panels were labeled—not in big, friendly UI fonts, but in small, utilitarian text etched into the metal:

A deep grunt escaped my throat at the thought that she was also going to find out that I was her mate and would also perceive my scent. shit! I hissed and clenched my fist, bracing myself to reject her immediately; I wasn't worried about the pain because I was also planning to kill her. My name is Xander, the heir to the Red Moon Pack. Being the son of Alpha Xavier, I had to be more cruel than him, giving no space for romantic feelings, which do nothing other than make someone weak and act stupidly. Lena's POV.

I hated that I could not give them concrete answers to all their questions. I did eventually get a phone call with updates about Jax. He was awake and recovering well. The nurse explained that they plan on discharging him the day after tomorrow. The nurse also explained that I would need to come to the hospital before he was discharged. Even though Jax was healing well he would need additional care at home, as well as follow up appointments with a cardiologist. I asked her if I could speak with Jax but was informed that he was currently sleeping.

Blurt it out of the narrative. I nod again, already thinking of strategies. “And he also has a wake of broken hearts after him. The girls never learn how unavailable Jax is. I don’t want that to affect our ticket sales.” A Playboy, then, with drug problems. It should be easy to stay away from him. Tara pushes the file in my direction, and I flip it open. His picture stares back at me. Surfer-blonde hair, with killer eyes and tattoos inked all over his body. He has a smirk on his face that has to be a sin.

Elara gasped into his mouth, pressing closer, wishing the bars would vanish. The medic left them alone for a moment. Jax's voice dropped low. "I need you. Right now." His hand slid down her body, finding the waistband of her jeans. Elara glanced back, heart racing at the risk. She unzipped quickly, guiding his fingers inside her panties. She was soaked, from rain and want and fear. Jax groaned, pushing two fingers deep in one stroke.

It smelled like clean laundry and Jackson Calloway, grounding and distracting all at once. Jax bent and hooked two fingers under the flash drive, yanking it free from where it had wedged beneath the door. “Sit,” he said, gesturing with it toward the chair pulled up beside his desk. Ryder bristled, then did it anyway, dropping into the chair with a thud that felt louder than it should’ve. Jax took the seat in front of the desk, opened his laptop, and the screen flared to life. Blue light washed over his face and hands, sharpening angles, throwing shadows under his eyes as his attention narrowed to the file loading on-screen.