by Karin Tabke
Shaking his head, Jack covered her and stepped away. He didn’t know the first thing about making love to a woman, but he knew that if she gave him the chance, it would come naturally with Stevie. He wanted that, more than he had wanted anything else in his life.
He was so fucked.
She was running for her life, the black truck so close she could feel the heat of the engine on her back. The canyon road was steep, with sheer cliffs on either side. No guardrails, no shoulder, just straight drops to the rocky canyon below. Her only recourse was to run forward. For her life.
The engine roared. She looked over her shoulder and screamed.
“Stevie!” Jack’s worried voice called close by. Wildly, she reached out and somehow managed to grab him.
The contact jerked her out of her sleep. She blinked, her eyes open but unseeing in the darkness. But she could smell him. Feel him in so many more ways than physically.
“Jack,” she sobbed, clutching his arms, holding on to him as if he were her only lifeline. “It was him.”
“It was just a dream, baby, I swear, just a dream.”
“The Edge. He—He was wearing a leather hood—blood on his hands—after me. Almost got me.”
She shivered hard, trying to focus. Jack’s strong scent soothed her as he rocked her, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. You’re safe.”
Her heart beat chaotically against her chest and she could barely breathe. This feeling of fear, of being afraid and vulnerable was as foreign to her as speaking Chinese. But it was Jack, and he made her feel safe. Grasping him, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t go,” she begged, her voice small like a child’s.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His arms tightened around her. Readjusting, she pressed her cheek to his chest and felt the strong, vibrant beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, Stevie let her walls down a little more and allowed herself to be comforted by him. Just this once. Just for a minute.
“Not allowed to be afraid,” she mumbled. “Big girls don’t cry.” As she said the last words, she felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes. She never cried. Not even at her father’s funeral. Not even when Jack had disappeared from her bed and her life.
“Big girls are allowed to be afraid, Stevie. They should cry.” He nudged her chin up and swept his lips across hers. “My arms are always open for you.”
Emotion tightened in her chest like a fist. Her body shuddered as she tried to hold it in.
“Let it go, sweetheart. Just let all the shit go.”
“I can’t. Show no weakness—” she rasped, fighting the deluge beating her down for release.
“Dump it, sweetheart. Kick it to the curb and walk away from it,” he softly urged against her ear.
In a mad, drug-induced purge, she let it go. All the soul-wrenching pain she’d been pushing down rushed up. For all those times as a little girl she was alone and afraid and needed someone to tell her she would be all right, she cried. For all those times she was terrified to fail, to disappoint her father, her teachers, or her coaches, she cried. For all those times she needed her father and mother to be normal, loving, accepting parents, she cried. For all those times she was ostracized by her peers because she was the sheriff’s daughter, she cried. She cried for the person she had never been allowed to be.
She cried the hardest over the remembered pain when the only man she’d ever loved walked out of her life. And most of all, she cried, terrified that she would fall short in his eyes, and he would do it again.
That man, whom she still loved, held her securely in his arms, rocking her gently, stroking her hair, soothing her with words as she fell apart in his arms.
“Jack,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you to stay. I tried, I tried so hard to be perfect.”
He kissed her. “You were perfect for me. It was me, I was the coward.”
“Daddy told me I had to be strong, that no man would want a weak woman. He was right. You didn’t want me because I’m weak.”
Jack’s body tensed as he pushed her from his embrace just enough to stare into her eyes. “You’re the strongest woman I know.” His lips brushed her cheek, kissing away the tears. “But being strong isn’t about holding it in forever, Stevie; it’s about getting through until you can be vulnerable with someone you trust.” He kissed her nose. He kissed her lips. “It’s about letting in someone who cares about you.”
His words stirred her deeply. His lips trailed down her neck to the bend in her shoulder. “Strength lies here.” He pressed his hand between her breasts. “In the heart, not in brawn.”
Her heart thudded against his palm. She was naked, and her body was waking up even if her brain was still foggy. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip as a sharp wave of desire swept through her. Jack’s hand pressed more firmly against her skin, his fingertips brushing her hardening nipple.
“Jack,” she breathed. As she said his name, heat rushed to her womb. “Don’t leave me again.” Had she not been drugged she wouldn’t have said it, but she was and…She meant it.
Desperately.
Warm lips pressed to the pulse beat of her neck as his hand slid across her breast. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Moaning, she shivered hot with desire. She wanted him, desperately, but was afraid he would reject her.
Swallowing her fear, she quietly said, “Jack?”
“Mmm?” His hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, his fingertips trailing either side of her neck before his fingers dug deeply into her damp hair.
“Make love to me,” she said it so softly, the words barely held sound. If he didn’t respond she could tell herself he didn’t hear her. If he said yes…
He groaned as his lips trailed from her neck to her jaw, to her parted lips, and in a wild, wet plunder he ravished her mouth.
Pulling him against her, Stevie arched into him, wanting every inch of him imprinted on her naked body. When he broke their kiss and took her face between his hands, and pressed his forehead to hers, she knew she was about to be shot down. Shame washed through her. She stiffened and immediately went on the defensive.
“Take your hands off me.”
“Sweetheart—”
Turning away she pushed against his chest but he didn’t budge. “I get it, Jack.”
“No, you don’t, you don’t get it at all.” He pushed her back into the mattress. She yelped in pain, her bruised body still tender despite the numbing narcotics. He grabbed her right hand and pushed it down to his hips and his straining erection. He groaned when she touched him. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?”
“No,” she rasped.
“I want you so damn bad, my entire body aches. The old Jack might have taken advantage of the fact that you’re on drugs and therefore vulnerable, but the new Jack won’t.”
“I want the old Jack.”
“Damn it, Stevie, no, you don’t.”
Opening her hand she rubbed the heel of her palm along his long thickness. “Yes, I do.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he said lamely.
“You don’t need one unless you have something catchy. I’m on the pill for my screwy periods.”
He pressed his throbbing cock into her eager hand. “I’m clean as a whistle.”
“There’s been no one but you, Jack.” She bowed into him, enticing him with a perky nipple. He made a noise as if he was in pain, but male satisfaction burned bright in his eyes.
“Stevie, I’m sorry I hurt you that bad.”
“No, you’re not. I can see it in your eyes, Jack. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not sorry. Not anymore. I want you, Jack. No strings, just you, right here, right now.”
He lowered his lips to her nipple and took a taste. Oh, God that felt good.
His hand slid down her belly to her sultry mound.
“You have the sweetest, tightest pussy, Stevie. I want in it so bad.” He slid a finger along her dewy seam, and the building tension inside her almost snapped. He pressed his cheek to her breast and shook his head. “But I can’t. You’ll hate me in the morning.”
“I’ve hated you for seven years, what’s another seven?” Sliding her hand beneath his sweats, she grasped his hard, hot shaft.
He moaned loudly, making a feeble attempt to pull away. “Damn it, stop.”
The power of their attraction pushed aside her fear of being rejected. She wanted Jack and he wanted her, too. Just like he did with her, she had the power to break his self-control. “You’re going to have to try a little harder than that if you want me to stop.” With her free hand Stevie dug her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him away from her breast to face her. Power surged through her when their eyes met. His were deep jade, and full of desire. His impressive cock throbbed forcefully in her hand. She smiled slyly. “You have as much willpower as I do.” She cupped his tight scrotum. He groaned, jutting against her hand. “If you’re so worried about me hating you, you can knock yourself out in the morning trying to make me unhate you.”
“Stevie…”
“Oh, Jack, you know you want this.”
“You have no idea.”
She pushed him back into the sheets and slid across his chest, pushing his sweats down to his knees. His erection sprang free. “And this time, Jack?” She smiled and stroked him. “I’m getting on top.”
Taking each of his hands into each of hers, she entwined her fingers in his and raised them above his head. Her aching breasts trailed along his hard pectorals, provoking low moans of pleasure from them both. Then with a slow languid slide, she glided down his taut belly and reverently, sheathed herself on his straining erection. Their eyes widened, their breaths held until she fully sat him.
“Dear, God,” she breathed. “That is the most amazing feeling in the world.” She kissed him softly and said, “Thank you.”
Jack squeezed her fingers. She welcomed the pain of his excitement.
Jack raised his chin, his eyes blazing, and thrust high into her. “You’re killing me, sweetheart, killing me.”
She caught his thrust, her liquid muscles fisting him, drawing him deeper. There was nothing more sublime than the thick hard feel of Jack Thornton inside her. “At least,” she gasped, “you’ll die with a smile on your face.”
When he made the move to bring his hands down, she fought back. “Don’t move, Jack.” She pushed his hands back into to the pillows. “This is for me.”
His dark eyes narrowed, but his cock flexed deep inside of her.
“Next time,” he said roughly, “I won’t be so easy.”
Laughing softly, she said, “I hope not.”
Only then, when she had his full compliance, unhurriedly, did she begin the intimate dance that connected them at the most primal level.
He didn’t rush her, he didn’t push; he let her set the pace, never taking his eyes off hers.
She’d released his hands and sat upright on him, her hands reaching back to his thighs, digging her nails into him. He hissed, his hips jerking hard, but he kept his arms over his head, his white knuckled hands grasping the black iron slat of her headboard.
Her eyelids dropped low over her eyes as she bowed, slowly grinding against his cock and pelvis. Hovering just on the edge of her orgasm, Stevie bit her bottom lip as her vaginal muscles grasped him.
“Jack,” she breathed. “That feels so good. I don’t want you to stop.”
“Let me touch you,” he rasped.
“No, I want—” She cried out when he thrust high into her. “Yes, that—I want that.”
He thrust high into her again, and again. When he pushed her over the edge, she screamed his name and unraveled around him. Her body shook and jerked as she ground her pubis against the thick root of his cock, drawing out her orgasm in long glorious waves of rapture. Just as she began to come down, he reached up and grabbed her. Pulling her against his chest, he rolled over with her and sank deeply into her.
Digging his fingers deep into her hair, he said hoarsely, “You make me lose all control.” Then he withdrew and thrust so deeply she screamed. His hips tensed before he rammed again. “Christ,” he swore, pistoning into her, then coming in a mad, wild rush.
The last thing Stevie thought before she fell asleep with Jack still inside of her was how much she would enjoy waking up next to him in the morning.
Stevie woke to the soft chatter of the resident sparrows and the delicious dream she’d had of her and Jack. Slowly she opened her swollen eyes and blinked. They hurt, like she’d been crying. She never cried. In her dream though, she had…
Languorously, her gaze swept her room. The last thing she remembered was her bath. Heat rose in her cheeks as her hand slid down her naked body to her thighs and felt the stickiness there. She stiffened and every muscle in her body screamed in protest. A dull throb hammered at her temples. Holy hell, it wasn’t a dream; she had broken down like a schoolgirl and had proceeded to practically demand sex from Jack! Her eyes widened when they landed on him sprawled out on her dad’s recliner.
Embarrassment swept through her. She’d been so needy. So weak. How had she allowed that to happen?
With dizzying clarity, the night came flooding back. Jack coming to her house and—their workout. Warmth flushed low in her belly. That had been amazing. Pizza, the fundraiser, and her attack. She scowled. Spoltori. Her bath. Squeezing her eyes shut, she remembered her nightmare and Jack being there. Her eyes and chest ached from her tears. She had been a blabbering emotional mess. Those damn pills!
Her misery lessened when she remembered how patient and comforting Jack had been with her. A side of him she hadn’t known existed. A side she liked. It was good, she told herself, that she could break down like that and not scare him away.
Closing her eyes, she shook her head, uncomfortable with this new development. She didn’t know how to deal with this type of exposure. Act like it never happened? See how Jack would be this morning? Maybe he was going to be just as weird about it as she was. One could hope. She should have insisted on the Tylenol.
Sitting up, she groaned in pain, instantly regretting the action.
“Stevie?” Jack sprang up from his reclined position, looking wildly around the room before his eyes settled on her. He raked his fingers through his hair when he realized she was unharmed. “Jesus, I thought you were—never mind.” He stood, stretching that long predatory body of his. He was wearing sweats and a white muscle tee. His muscles beneath that hot skull tattoo bunched and unbunched in fluid ease. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest. Even sleepy he was the hottest man on the planet.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out to touch her, but pulled back. Her heart cracked. That simple action said he regretted what happened. Otherwise he would have stayed in bed with her and not just have pulled away from her. What did he think of her now?
She swallowed hard. No strings, right?
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Sore.” Then she scowled. “Why are you here? What time is it? Do we know where Spoltori is?”
Jack shook his head and this time he didn’t fight his need to touch her. He brushed back the hair from her face. His warm gaze held hers looking for a cue from her about what happened. She refused to give him one. She’d had a vulnerable moment. It shouldn’t have happened. She’d make sure it didn’t happen again. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay, it’s eight fifteen, and Spoltori is still at large.”
Her scowl deepened. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to spend the night.”
“After what happened to you last night, Spoltori being unaccounted for, and your refusal to come home with me, you didn’t leave me much choice.”
“I can take care of myself.”
; “Hey, Thorn?” a familiar voice called from the hallway.
“Is that Flynn?” Stevie asked, shocked. What the hell?
“Yeah?” Jack called back.
“The guys want to head back soon, but there are two uniforms on their way in.”
“Thanks, man.”
Flynn popped his head into the room. Stevie gasped, pulling the sheet high over her nakedness. The special agent’s dark eyes danced mischievously. “Coffee’s fresh, oh, and Doc’s here.” He ducked back out, his laughter trailing behind him.
“What’s that about? Who’s Doc?” She asked, looking pointedly at Jack. Had Flynn heard her moaning—no, screaming—with pleasure last night? Mortified, she wanted to fade into the wall. She didn’t know how to address the elephant in the room. Not that Jack seemed concerned; he acted like nothing had happened. Maybe she would, too.
“With the driver on the loose and the high likelihood of it being Spoltori, a suspected serial killer, so close to you, we thought it would be prudent to have a few eyes and ears outside.”
Stevie’s jaw dropped. “You mean you wasted valuable man-hours watching my house instead of them being on the street where they could actually do something worthwhile?”
Jack scowled. “No one was pulled from duty, Stevie. They volunteered.”
Warmth infiltrated her chest. “What did you threaten them with if they didn’t?”
He looked insulted, then surprised. “Not a damn thing. They offered.”
Stevie swallowed and admitted, “No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”
Jack stood and held out his hand. “That’s because you’re too busy being a badass to let them.”