End of Day (Jack & Jill Series Book 1)

by Jewel E. Ann

  AJ smirked while sliding off his shorts and briefs. “You’re good with math and full of shit. How do you know my birthday?”

  Jillian scooted up making room for him in the tub. “Condom, second drawer on the left.”

  AJ grabbed the condom and stepped into the tub between Jillian’s legs.

  “Put it on.”

  AJ shook his head. “I’m going to fuck your mouth first.”

  She raised a single brow, looking up at him. “Interesting choice of foreplay given my … need. Besides, the only way your cock will be in my mouth is if your wrists are handcuffed behind your back.” Jillian grabbed the condom from him and rolled it on.

  AJ fought his clash of needs—the one to break her and the one to be broken. He wanted to punish her for refusing him … threatening him. Then there was the part of him that wanted her to lose her own control. The look in her eyes when she broke his flesh was intoxicating. It had become almost as addictive to him as it was to her. Those thoughts weren’t his, but they were in his head. He didn’t know how they got there, or what they would end up doing to him, but they demanded his attention. The nagging, the taunting … he wanted to shoot them, slide a knife along their throat, or blow them up, but they were too elusive.

  “Nails…” her voice broke and she finished with a whisper “…or teeth?” She closed her eyes and swallowed.

  AJ gritted his teeth, feeling that familiar tick in his jaw. He never pushed to know why Jillian was so messed-up. Not knowing took away accountability, and he didn’t want to feel responsible for fixing her. If he couldn’t fix himself, there was no way he could fix anyone else. But she had this need and the regret in her face proved that it wasn’t a choice she was making. She was powerless to it.

  His eyes drifted to the candles and soap bottles along the ledge of the tub. “Why not your razor?”

  Jillian’s eyes snapped open. “Never with a blade! Understood?”

  He didn’t … he didn’t understand any of it. But when he saw a tear trail down her cheek, it didn’t matter. AJ tore off the condom and tossed it in the trash then sank into the water. He pulled her to him so her back leaned against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head.

  “Don’t hate me for not asking why,” he whispered, feeling like a coward.

  Jillian nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jillian closed her eyes then opened them, over and over again. They were on springs loaded with anxiety and just wouldn’t stay shut. The man showed complete detachment and restraint from prying into her behavioral issues, then crawled in bed with her. No sex. No banter. Just the simple offering of his warm body next to hers.

  “You’re not going to sleep are you?” He flattened his palm to her belly and drew her even closer. “You don’t want me to stay.”

  Jillian wiggled in his arms until she was turned facing him. She kissed his neck. “I do want you to stay.”

  “But you’re not going to sleep and it’s already almost two in the morning.”

  “I’ll go sleep on the couch, then come back in with you after I get a few hours of sleep.”

  AJ mumbled a few indecipherable words as he released Jillian and rolled to his back. “I’m not sleeping alone in your bed while you go sleep on the couch. That’s too fucked-up … even for me.” He circled his fingers over his temples. “You don’t trust me.”

  Jillian sat up and straddled him, feeling him instantly grow hard between her legs. “I don’t trust myself.”

  He grabbed her hips and slid her back and forth along his shaft. “You can’t hurt me.”

  She closed her eyes and moved her left hand down her belly, pressing her fingers over his until he took the hint and started massaging her clitoris.

  He rocked his hips up into her allowing his erection to slide against her wet sex. “You like this?” His voice was deep and growing thicker with each word.

  “God … yes.” She felt so sleepy and equally as turned on. It may have been the spell cast by the early morning hour, or her body reaching its point of exhaustion, but she fell victim to his touch that felt like the whisper of a dream. “Please …”

  “Please what?” he stilled his hips and slipped two fingers inside her.

  “Don’t … stop.” She reached for his erection but he grabbed her hand.

  “It’s just for you.” He moved her hand to meet his, both of them stimulating her sex. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  She rocked into his hand, wet with arousal. He slid a third finger in as she moaned, her muscles clenching him tight.

  “That feels … good … so good …”

  “Show me, sexy. Show me how good.” He slid his hand up her chest and circled her nipple with the pad of his thumb, syncing to the rhythm of his other thumb against her clit.

  An orgasm seized her body, sending uncontrolled spasms so deep she felt them shake her bones. Her brain fogged like a night after Heineken, but her body spasmed with pleasure that came in waves until she collapsed on his chest. After a few minutes of AJ tracing circles on her back, she yawned and closed her eyes—for hours.

  Jillian dreamed of her boys and her brother. She saw her parents alive for the last time and her friend’s body mutilated and tossed aside like a piece of trash. Then she saw Four and his dark buzzed hair, hazel eyes, and perfect teeth. He was by all accounts sexy and alluring, especially in his combat fatigues. The Ted Bundy type that could manipulate girls into driving for hours to meet him. The kind that lived in a neighborhood of poverty but came from wealth and had a message to send to the world. He was the black sheep, the one that would never amount to anything. But he became more famous than anyone else in his affluent family … he died a serial killer. He left his mark and he left it in blood.

  As the sun first announced its presence, AJ shifted to scoot a sleeping Jillian off his chest. She felt large hands around her arms and became aware of her naked body. Large hands gripping her arms. Naked arms. Naked body. Her pounding heart sounded like an alarm. “Sorry, doll … but you were an unexpected surprise. Two for one.”

  “Fuck! Goddammit! Oh … fucking, fucking hell!” AJ roared.

  “What the heck?” Jackson’s voice drew near.

  Jillian rapidly blinked as everything came into focus. Her naked body sat astride his. AJ’s face was covered in blood—blood on his hands that were cupping his nose, blood on the sheets, blood everywhere.

  “Sorry … I’m so sorry …”

  “Get dressed.” Jackson pulled her off AJ. “Let me see.”

  AJ shook his head, one hand stayed on his nose while the other grabbed for the sheet to cover his naked body.

  “Jesus, AJ, just let me see!” Jackson pulled AJ’s hand away from his nose. “Looks broken and you’re bleeding … a lot. Jillian, get a towel and some ice.”

  Jillian stood naked behind Jackson like a statue. She couldn’t move, not even a blink.

  Jackson looked over his shoulder. “Jillian! Get some ice and a towel. Then get your ass dressed.”

  She swallowed and nodded slowly.

  “I’m fine.” AJ pulled himself up to sitting. More blood gushed from his nose.

  “You’re not, but you will be after we take you to the hospital.”

  Jillian returned with several towels and a bag of ice. “Oh God …” she grimaced seeing AJ’s crooked, bloody nose “…I’m so sorry.”

  He glared at her as Jackson brought the towel and ice to AJ’s nose.

  “Get his clothes,” Jackson said.

  “He just came over in shorts. No shoes or shirt.”

  “Just grab him something of mine.”

  Two hours later they left the emergency room. AJ’s nose was reset and the bleeding finally stopped. Jillian had been incessant with her apologies, but AJ ignored her.

  “It’s been a long night, Jill. Just leave him alone. He’ll come around,” Jackson whispered as they walked to the car.

  “He won’t even look at me.”

  �
��Give. It. Time.”

  Jillian stared out her window the whole way home. Emotions blurred in her head like the city lights that passed by. Before Jackson had Woody in park, AJ hopped out and walked home.

  “Don’t,” Jackson called as Jillian chased him.

  “Go home,” AJ mumbled.

  “AJ—”

  He turned. “You broke my fucking nose!”

  Jillian blinked back her emotions and nodded once. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you stay.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have broken my nose.”

  “I was startled.”

  “By me?”

  “By my past.”

  AJ closed his eyes and exhaled. “I’m not going to ask … I just … don’t want to deal with it.”

  “I wouldn’t tell you if you did.”

  He turned and opened his front door.

  “I didn’t bite you—” she murmured the words as if they mattered.

  AJ turned.

  “Or claw you,” she whispered.

  AJ laughed a little. “Tell my nose that.”

  *

  The whiney first two stairs creaked announcing Jillian’s arrival back home. He waited for her, knowing it wouldn’t be long. No man with even half a testicle would let a woman break his nose then crawl into his bed.

  Her posture sagged under a cloak of self-deprecation. “Break my nose,” she mumbled, eyes cast downward.

  “I’m not breaking your nose.” Jackson unwrapped his hands.

  She glanced up in confusion. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re not sparring. I thought you needed it, but now I see you just want me to punish you.” He shook his head and walked past her. “I know you won’t fight back. You’ll stand there and let me beat the shit out of you. No thanks.”

  “Do you like your life here?”

  Jackson paused halfway up the stairs. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it means I’m alive.”

  “Ask me.” The sadness in her voice suffocated all other emotion.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He closed his eyes. Why did she do this to him? Why did she do this to herself? “Because I know what you’ll say.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “No.” He continued up the stairs.

  “Tell me!”

  Leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, he gently tapped the side of his head against it. “Do you like living here? No. Why? Because it means you’re alive. Happy now?” He felt her at his back.

  “What if I never find it again?”

  Jackson turned, wrapping his arms around her body as she sank into him. “You won’t find it again. What you had with Luke happens once in a lifetime. But I think you’ll find something different … something good.”

  She traced the cross tattoo on his arm. “When?”

  “When you stop replaying your past.”

  “AJ hates me.”

  “He doesn’t. But could you blame him if he did?”

  “His face is going to scare people for quite some time. His eyes are going to be black and blue, and he’s going to catch shit from everyone when they find out a girl broke his nose.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Yeah, that won’t be happening. He’ll say something like he singlehandedly saved Omaha from a terrorist attack, but I can promise you he won’t be telling anyone you broke his nose.”

  “You men have such fragile egos.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, we do. But I’ll deny that I ever admitted it.”

  “I’d better go clean up the crime scene.”

  “Jill?”

  She stopped at her bedroom door. “Yes?”

  “We can get you help. Knox said—”

  “I’ve got this.” She chuckled. “I know what you saw didn’t look like progress, but had I not let him stay, he would have left unscathed.”

  “He’s not without his own set of skills and issues. He could have hurt you.”

  “You wouldn’t have let that happen.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have, but I’m not always going to be in the next room when you’re with him.”

  She sighed. “I’ve got this.”

  “I hope so.”

  *

  There wasn’t a Hallmark card that expressed the appropriate sorry-I-broke-your-nose-yesterday apology. Instead, Jillian opted for brunch. She made a complete mess of the kitchen then packed everything in a bag to take next door.

  “Lucky for you he probably can’t smell anything today.” Jackson tossed back a Red Bull.

  “You act like I have zero cooking skills.” She set the bag by the front door and shoved her feet into her red boots.

  “I’m not acting. You do have zero cooking skills.”

  “I bet AJ and Cage like what I made.”

  “Are you wearing a bra today?”

  “No.”

  “Then they’ll gut it down with a smile. Well … Cage will. AJ has seen you naked; it’s going to take more than a thin shirt and nipples to make him blow smoke up your ass today.”

  “Thanks for the tiara and fairy dust.”

  “Anytime, princess.”

  Jillian prayed Cage would answer the door. She needed an ally before facing AJ, in case the brunch and nipples weren’t enough.

  No such luck.

  Jillian grimaced. “Hi. Uh, I made brunch for you and Cage.”

  “He’s not here,” AJ replied in a flat tone.

  “Okay, then I made brunch for you.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  She opened the screen door and set the bag by his feet. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t change the way your face looks or feels today, but I am.”

  Jillian couldn’t read his expression, probably due to the redness and swelling in his face. Regardless, he looked angry and unforgiving, and the moment bled awkwardness.

  “So…” she shrugged “…I guess I’ll go now.”

  AJ remained stoic.

  Jillian stepped outside and took two steps before turning around and throwing open the screen door. “No. You know what? I’m not leaving. Be pissed at me, fine! Be a jerk about it, fine! But do something! Yell at me, cuss me out, hit me for God’s sake, break my nose, but don’t just stand here like you don’t give a shit about me. I don’t want to be that person—the one who broke your nose. But that’s who I am right now.”

  AJ blinked several times like he was contemplating her words. She watched his hands clench and relax several times. He was going to hit her, she just knew it. AJ moved his arm and she flinched, closing her eyes to ready herself for the impact.

  She sucked in a quick breath when his knuckles feathered across her cheekbone.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  She opened her eyes and smiled as a wave of relief soothed her nerves. She covered his hand on her cheek and turned her head, pressing her lips to his palm. “Frittata, blueberry muffins, and orange juice.”

  He bent down and kissed her slowly. Jillian felt tears sting her eyes. A punch would have hurt less.

  “You forgive me?” she whispered against his lips.

  “Yes.” AJ trapped her bottom lip between his teeth. Jillian’s eyes widened. His lips curled into a grin as he released her, then he carried the bag to the kitchen.

  “Where’s young buck?”

  AJ handed her a plate and sat down at the table. “He went for a jog.”

  “What did he say about your nose?” Jillian poured the juice into their glasses.

  “He hasn’t seen me yet. He left a note.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  AJ held his juice glass up to the light. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell him.” He shook his head. “What is this?”

  “Orange juice.”

  “It’s barely orange.”

  Jillian took a sip of hers. It tasted like shit, but she swallowed and smiled. “I thought Cage would be here too and I only had a third of a jug left so I j
ust filled it to the top with water.”

  AJ set it back down without taking a sip. Then he took a bite of the blueberry muffin after inspecting it for a few moments with apprehension in his eyes. His face wrinkled. When he took a swig of the orange juice to swallow it down, she knew he wasn’t impressed.

  “What did you put in these?”

  She pinched off a piece of hers and dropped it in her mouth. It was shit too. “Multigrain raisin bread, almond milk, eggs, sugar, olive oil.”

  “Bread? Why did you use bread to make blueberry muffins and where are the blueberries?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t have any flour so I used bread, which is made from flour, and I didn’t have any blueberries so that’s why I used the raisin bread.”

  “They taste like crap.”

  Jillian popped another piece in her mouth and gagged it down just to prove that they didn’t taste like crap, which of course they did. “Whatever you do don’t sugar coat it.”

  “I won’t.” AJ poked his fork at the frittata. “Are there eggs in here?”

  Jillian rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  He took a small bite. “What the …” He spit out the bite into his napkin. “It’s gritty and crunchy and what the hell is the brown stuff?”

  “Fake bacon. And the gritty stuff might be egg shells. A few of them got away from me.”

  He grabbed both of their plates and scraped everything into the garbage.

  “Hey, I wasn’t done.”

  He put the plates in the dishwasher and emptied the juice down the drain. “You know those people who say they can’t cook but still manage to throw a decent meal together?”

  “I suppose.” Jillian watched him, not knowing where he was going with that question.

  “Well, you’re not one of those people.”

  “Ouch.” She crossed her arms over her chest and fake pouted.

  “And the only thing you’re worse at than cooking is acting. I’d love to offend you. Maybe then you’d stop selling all those kinky toys, or start wearing clothes to the mailbox, or censor your words around strangers. So don’t act offended that I think your cooking tastes like shit.”

  Jillian started unbuttoning her white sleeveless blouse.

  AJ made a nervous glance at the door. “What are you doing?”