by Penny Reid
She was still talking, something about medical insurance and hoping I had a good policy, so I kissed her to hush her. And also because I needed to. I needed to know she was safe, whole, unharmed. I needed to feel her body, her heartbeat against my chest.
I missed her. Oh, how I’d missed her.
After a stunned second, she kissed me back. My fingers slipped under her nightshirt—another silk button-up that fell to her thighs—and hers fisted in my sweater.
I loved her petal soft skin, her curves, how hot she felt beneath my hands. She burned up everyplace I touched. I needed to touch her everywhere.
I loved her taste, and how responsive she was, like she couldn’t think past what we were doing.
But then she stiffened and pushed me away, maybe just realizing what was happening. She turned and darted to the other side of the room, placing the bed between us. The back of her hand came to her mouth and Jess stared at me with big eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot like she was ready to bolt.
My mind wasn’t prepared for talking, so I said stupidly, “We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”
“When?”
“Before now.”
“When before now? You mean when you walked out on me at the cabin?” Her chin lifted, like my walking out was a sore spot for her. “Or when we were trapped at the biker compound?”
Being reminded of the cabin made my chest hurt, but being reminded of the danger I’d put her in at the compound made my blood pump cold and furious.
“Both,” I managed through my self-loathing, hating she’d been in danger because of me.
“Now? In the middle of the night? At my parents’ house? You know my daddy is the Sheriff, right?”
“Yes. I know.”
“So, what’s the plan, Duane? Do you think it’s a good idea getting caught sneaking into the house of a man who shoots people for a living?”
I flattened my lips into a straight line so I wouldn’t smile, because she sounded so serious. “Your daddy doesn’t shoot people for a living.”
“Well, it’s in his job description.”
I ignored her irrelevant, but funny statement and put the conversation back on track. “The truth is, I have no plan. I came here with no plan. And I know you can scream bloody murder at any moment and your brother and daddy will come flying in here, maybe with their guns, shooting first and asking questions later. But I need to talk to you—not later, right now—and I’m asking you to listen.”
She was frowning at me like she was concentrating, or torn, or both; abruptly she blurted, “Tina showed me her phone over Thanksgiving. She implied you were calling and texting her because you wanted her back, were still in love with her.”
“I was never in love with Tina. She was…convenient and willing…and a headache. When I found out you were coming back to town I called things off with her, and I haven’t looked back. And you were right. I should have done it years ago.”
“I believe you. I told her on Thanksgiving to go to hell, that I trusted you,” she said, but she was frowning. “But I don’t understand, why’d you go to the Pink Pony last Friday? Did you really want her to spy on the Wraiths?”
I stiffened. “Where did you hear that?”
“When Claire and I were downstairs in that room with her father, Claire’s daddy told Repo that you and Beau had visited Tina at the Pink Pony last week, asked her to spy on the Wraiths. She was the reason I was even there tonight. She’d called me and pretended to be in trouble.”
“Tina called you tonight?”
“Yes. Well, she called late this afternoon while I was with Claire. Tina acted like she was in trouble and asked me to come to the bar to pick her up. But Claire’s father said it was a set up. Tina set me up so you would go to the bar.”
Jess then proceeded to fill in the blanks, explaining that she’d called Sheriff James before approaching the bar, and that Claire had insisted on bringing the guns. She also told me Repo didn’t seem to have any idea that Jess was being used as bait.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head and biting my tongue. What I wanted to say was, If I ever see your cousin again, I’m going to kill that bitch.
“For what?”
“For getting you involved. For putting you in danger.”
“That wasn’t you. That was my shitty cousin.” She waved away my apology. “But I’d like to know what this was all about. I couldn’t follow most of the conversation. Something about traps and drugs?”
I gathered a deep breath and returned her frown with one of my own. I needed to tell her the truth, but couldn’t tell her the whole story.
“You don’t want to tell me,” she said, her tone held a sharp edge of disappointment. “You still don’t trust me.”
“No. I trust you. But part of this story isn’t mine to share. I can tell you that the Iron Wraiths were blackmailing Beau and me for the last month or so, trying to get us to do something illegal. We’ve been stalling and I thought maybe Tina could help. She wouldn’t return our calls or text messages, so Beau and I went to see her. I asked her for a favor and she said yes.”
“What was the blackmail?” Her frown deepened and she appeared uneasy.
I pulled my hand through my hair and scratched the back of my neck, knowing she wasn’t going to like my answer. “I can’t tell you.”
She stiffened, her eyes narrowing into slits of distrust; so I quickly added, “But I can tell you it was about Jethro. It had nothing to do with Beau or me. Just Jethro.”
Her expression cleared and a knowing smile curved her pretty mouth on one side. “Ah…that makes sense. I’m guessing it relates to some missing cars?”
“Not exactly. Long story short, turns out what they were trying to blackmail us with wasn’t actually illegal. So we were going there tonight to set the record straight, tell the Wraiths to back off.”
“And Tina double-crossed you.”
I nodded. “I never lied to you, Jess. Not about how I…what I want.”
“I know,” she responded softly, looking unhappy. “I know you.”
My hands ached to hold her, touch her, but she was still so far away.
Jessica glanced around her room and gathered a deep breath before lifting her eyes to mine. “Thanks for coming here to clear up tonight’s events. I...thanks.”
I acknowledged her thanks with a short nod and stared at her. Uncertainty clogged my throat. I didn’t know what to do next.
“Well, you can use the front door instead of the tree if you want. My daddy isn’t even home. Jackson is, but he’s not going to make a fuss, especially if you’re leaving.” Her eyes dropped, like she couldn’t look at me anymore.
I didn’t want to leave. What I wanted to do was eliminate the distance between us. I hadn’t taken any time to prepare so I stood there, in the dark, watching her, knowing I needed to say something.
So, finally, I said something.
“I don’t want to let you down. I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to take without asking permission or deserving what I get. I need to take responsibility—for me, for my family—and I don’t want any handouts or free rides.”
Once again I had her eyes, but now she looked surprised. Her voice was halting as she asked, “Is this why you won’t even consider the possibility of coming with me? Because it wouldn’t be like that. I’m the one who wants to travel, how could I ask you to pay for—”
“Please, let me finish.”
She bit her lip and nodded—though I knew she held her tongue with a great deal of reluctance.
“I want to…” I started, stopped, and shook my head because the word want was wrong. I started again, “I need to go with you.”
She gasped, her hand coming to her chest and her pretty lips parting in surprise. I had no earthly idea how she could be surprised.
Even so, having confessed the truth, I said, “You’ve been it for me since you threw my shorts in th
at tree and left me naked in the lake, laughing at your prank and my misfortune—though I admit, I deserved it. You were right. I was trying to court you on our first date, nice and slow. I was trying to do everything right, guarantee my own success. I had a plan, one that wasn’t ever going to work because I didn’t take your dreams into consideration.”
“Duane—”
“And then I came up with a new plan. I thought if I could dictate the how and for how long we were together, then I would be able to walk away, risking nothing I can’t live without. You were right again. I wasn’t all in. I wasn’t even half in. I was ready to leave the whole time, looking for a reason. Because every second we spent together was better than the last.”
Jessica took a step forward, like she wanted to rush over, but stopped herself and gathered a quick breath. “We don’t have to end. And I know I’m being selfish, asking you to leave when your roots are here.”
Unable to stand the distance between us, I crossed to her, needing her skin and warmth. “But you did ask. And I’m glad you did, because I wouldn’t have. I won’t ask you to stay, and I would never ask to go with you. But since you asked…”
Her eyes grew round and she pressed her lips together like she was afraid to make a sound. And she let me touch her. She let me hold her in my hands and it felt so good I never wanted to let go.
“Since you asked, and since I need you, and if you’re still willing—”
“I am!”
I smiled down at my girl, pulled her body against mine, and—even though nothing was really resolved, and we had no plan, and I had no clue how this was going to work—I said, “Then let’s go.”
“But what about the shop? What about your brothers?”
“I’ve talked to Cletus and Beau, we’ll work something out with the shop.”
“You already talked to Cletus and Beau? About leaving?”
“Yes.”
“What will they do?”
“We’ll figure it out. They want me to be happy.”
“But do you think you’ll be happy? Really? I’ve been thinking we could compromise. Stay here during the school year and travel over the summer.”
“I’m not okay with that. I’m not asking you to compromise your dreams.”
“But what about your dreams?”
“You’re it.”
She blinked, her mouth parting a whisper.
“You’re it, Jessica James. And that’s the truth. Not racing or going fast. Not fixing up old cars. I want to spend my life with you. And maybe that makes me wrong in the head and unhealthy, or old-fashioned, but when I think of my future and what I want, all I see is you.”
Her smile was wide and hopeful, so the tears in her eyes didn’t alarm me much. Seeing her so happy took my breath away. And looking at her now something in me shifted. Actually, it was more than that. It was a blow to my chest, an earthquake, a fundamental rearranging of my foundation.
Not thinking about anything other than what I wanted right then, at that moment, I kissed her. I kissed her like I meant it because I did. I kissed her and moved my hands under her shirt to the hot skin of her stomach. I pressed my hips against her lower belly and tugged at her underwear, grabbing and squeezing handfuls of her body as I worked them down her thighs.
She gasped against my mouth as my hand cupped her sweet spot and stroked her with my middle finger, a long assertive touch.
Fucking hell, I wanted her beneath me, needed it. I needed her fighting sweet moans as I filled her, her hands held hostage, bare to me, taking and claiming this woman as mine. I wanted her fast and hard, and I wanted her slow and sweet.
“Duane!” She pushed lightly against my chest, breathing my name on an exhale. “Wait a minute, wait—what are you doing? My momma is right downstairs. Claire is next door.”
I filled my other hand with the weight of her breast and massaged her through the silk of her shirt, all the while fondling her heat.
“I want you,” I said simply; maybe I paired it with a growl to show my desperation.
Her big eyes moved between mine with a question, even while her breathing came in short chaotic bursts, her hips rocking against my hand.
“Was this part of your plan?” she panted.
“Jess, like I said earlier, I have no plan. All I know is, I need inside you, now. I want you. And I’m not thinking about who’s downstairs or next door.”
Her pretty mouth slanted upwards with a dreamy smile even as a shuddering breath escaped her lungs. “You’re really going to climb in my bedroom window in the middle of the night, and have sex with me in my parents’ home?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m doing.” I bent to claim her mouth again but she tilted her head to the side, giving me a sly gaze.
Jessica’s hand smoothed from my shoulder, down my chest. Then she grinned, cupping and rubbing me through my jeans with her palm.
I didn’t want her teasing. I wanted satisfaction. I pushed her, advanced until her knees hit the bed and she was forced to fall backward on the mattress. She gazed up at me with enormous, excited eyes, her mouth slightly parted.
“Take off your shirt,” I said, nudging her knees apart, “and open your legs.”
I dispatched my shirt; took off my boots; unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and pushed them to the ground.
All the while her hungry stare watched me undress, and fuck me, I loved it.
Jess’s fingers unfastened her buttons, giving me a glimpse of the valley between her breasts, and she whispered, “Duane, you’re being terribly disrespectful.”
I climbed between her spread thighs, spreading her wider, stroking her need with mine, then whispered in her ear, “If you’re willing, I’d like to disrespect you all night long.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I blinked at the ceiling, her question unexpected only because we’d been laying in silence for so long. We should have been asleep. I was tired enough. And though we were still in her bedroom and I’d just spent the last three hours disrespecting the hell out of her, my mind was finally content.
Yet she kept reaching for me—mostly for kisses and touches, petting and embracing—and I wasn’t inclined to deny Jessica anything. So I waited. For her to settle. For her to relax. For her to sleep. And I used the time to appreciate the feel of her in my hands.
“I was just thinking your skin is awfully soft,” I answered honestly.
“Really?” Jess’s leg was between mine and she was on her stomach, one arm over my chest. Her face was turned toward my neck and I felt her breath against my shoulder.
“Yep.”
She propped her elbow on the mattress and lifted her head, held her cheek in her hand and gazed down at me. “Do you want the name of my moisturizer? I can get some for you, maybe for Christmas? A stocking stuffer?”
I made sure my expression was as flat as my tone. “My stocking doesn’t need stuffing.”
She gave me a little smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I would have missed the subtle sadness if I hadn’t been able to see so well in the dark.
Jessica shifted like she was going to lay down again, but I stopped her by gripping her arm. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
She blinked. “Can you see my face?”
“Yes.”
“How can you see my face? It’s pitch black in here.”
“I just can. Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Can you see in the dark?” Now her eyes were narrowed.
“I’ll answer you when you answer me.”
Jess hesitated, and in her hesitation I saw more unhappiness. My chest constricted with dread.
But then she said, “My Aunt Louisa…she was my mother.”
Before I had an opportunity to process these words her face crumpled and she sucked in a breath. Tears and sobs soon followed. Jessica flung herself down on me and I automatically wrapped her in my arms. I was confused. But once I sorted out what she’d said, I was mostly astonished.
Jess nodded, burrowing herself against my neck.
“How long have you known?”
“Just found out last Thursday,” came her muffled response.
I cursed, holding her tighter, my chest again constricting. I wasn’t one for regrets, but if I could have rewound the last week and done everything over, I would have.
“I’m so sorry. I should have… I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head and pulled away, sniffling. “No. No it’s fine. Really. It’s just—”
“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve gone to Texas for the funeral.”
She continued as though I hadn’t spoken or she hadn’t heard me. “It’s just, I don’t know why she never told me, you know? She gave me to her sister, treated me like an employee every time I visited—which, technically, I was, I know that—but I don’t understand why she didn’t want me to know until it was too late.”
“What does Mrs. James say? Or the Sheriff?”
Jessica’s eyes came back to mine and she wiped a tear from her cheek, her lips pressing in to a wobbly smile. “My daddy says it changes nothing. He says I’m his, have been since the day I was born and he held me.”
Though it was a strange thing to remark upon while naked in bed with Jessica under the man’s roof, I said, “I’ve always liked Sheriff James.”
She nodded, then continued, “Momma says Louisa never gave her a reason. One day, Louisa called and said she was pregnant, said she wanted to give the baby up for adoption, but wanted to check with her first to see if she wanted me.”
“And your momma and the Sheriff wanted you.”
“Yes. They did. And Momma says Louisa never wanted to talk about it, about me.” She heaved a watery breath. “My birth mother didn’t want me, and when she was alive she…she made me feel so inferior. Is it wrong I’m so sad about this? Is it strange that it hurts so much?”
I shook my head, cupped her cheeks between mine, and gave her a firm kiss before responding. “No. It’s not wrong. Our situations aren’t the same, but I might as well have been a goat to my father.”
Jessica half laughed, half sighed. “Duane—”