End of Day (Jack & Jill Series Book 1)

by Jewel E. Ann

  Luke hummed against her sensitive flesh. The need to make him bleed was building with fury. He was in complete control. The vulnerability threatened what little sanity she still had.

  “Too much … I-I can’t.” Her heart pummeled against her chest, driven by fear. She fought the pleasure that peaked in waves, growing in intensity.

  “Kiss me, please …”

  His hand replaced his mouth—two fingers slid into her as his palm pressed against her clitoris.

  “Kiss me!” she demanded between labored breaths.

  “I am,” he murmured over her skin as his mouth drifted along her body, paying a beautifully, torturous homage to every inch of it.

  “This … this is a bad idea.” Her voice broke under the duress of pleasure poisoned with a crippling anxiety.

  He flicked his tongue over her nipple.

  “Oh God … stop … my mouth … I need your mouth on mine.”

  He squeezed her breast—sucking, biting, and moaning.

  “Now!”

  He laughed. The bastard laughed. “My God, I love you. I know this is killing you, but I’d rather you feel tortured with need than with guilt.”

  She writhed beneath him as his fingers brought her closer to losing all control.

  “Kiss me.”

  “Not on the mouth,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I won’t bite you.”

  “You will.” He dragged his tongue down her neck.

  “Fuck … no … stop. I can’t come.”

  He’d stripped her of nearly all physical control. She’d completely shatter if he took the rest.

  “Please …” A lone tear slid down the side of her face.

  “You can and you will. You’ll give me everything” He slid his fingers out and sucked her clitoris.

  “No!” The posts to her bed creaked in protest as she jerked against his warm, wet mouth—losing everything. The pleasure was so. Damn. Painful. Hot tears spilled over and bled down her cheeks.

  He sat up, kneeling between her knees. She blinked out more tears as he slid down his pants and briefs. Grabbing his erection he pumped it a few times giving her a look so dark and chilling she shivered.

  “I’m going to take you the way you took me—by surprise, relentlessly … completely.”

  Beyond the steely eyes, the hard lines of muscled flesh, and the promise of more pain and pleasure that he pumped just inches from her sex, she saw so much love and adoration it sent a flood of more tears rushing down her face. Closing her eyes, she nodded.

  “Ung!” She groaned as he lifted her hips and pushed into her with one quick thrust.

  “Fuck,” Luke moaned, pausing a few seconds.

  Her breaths came quick and shallow as she waited and waited … and waited.

  “Jessica?”

  She opened her eyes, first looking at the sexy-as-fuck sight of him completely impaled in her. Then she met his gaze.

  “I need you to acknowledge that this is happening … that we are happening. I need you to feel me, see me … trust me.”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “Okay,” she whispered.

  He pulled back and pushed right back in over and over until the slow rhythm built into something more. Faster. Harder. Desperate.

  With each passing second, one muscle at a time, she relaxed—surrendered—until she no longer recognized where her body ended and his began. He slowed his movements and untied her ankles. Then he leaned forward and released her hands. She hesitated.

  “Now … trust yourself,” he whispered, pulling her body up to his.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her. He trusted her. Their two bodies moved as one, both finding control in absolute surrender.

  She felt a tinge of panic again as another orgasm approached the brink. “I-I’m close. What if—”

  “I’ve got you—I’ll always have you.” He kissed her with complete abandon as their walls of resistance came crashing down with sweet relief—sweet surrender.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Knight

  Lilith hadn’t had much sun, but her cheeks were flushed a nice rosy red. Jillian poured her another glass of tea and handed it to her.

  “Oh … thank you.” She smiled and blinked for what seemed like the first time in over an hour.

  “You’re blushing.”

  Lilith fanned herself with her hand. “Why, yes I am. It might have something to do with your very steamy story.”

  Jillian smiled. “What Luke and I had was … not of this world.” The memories were painful, but they owned so much of her heart, without them she’d feel like an empty shell.

  “So he cured you of your ways?”

  “Hmm, so it seemed at the time. He taught me how to trust myself, but later I found out that trust was contingent on him. Without him, I’ve sort of … lost it.” Jillian frowned.

  “Maybe Sarge needs to tie you up.” Lilith winked.

  Jillian twisted her lips to the side. “No. I don’t trust myself around AJ for good reasons. However, I have been trying to channel Luke when I’m with AJ.”

  Lilith’s eyes widened.

  Jillian smirked. “That sounds bad. I know. Luke’s voice in my head calms me. I can’t completely let my guard down with AJ, but I’ve been trying to control myself … my reaction. Basically having an appropriate reaction to him, which is hard because AJ and his PTSD are unpredictable.”

  “Oh, has it been getting worse?”

  “No. Well, I can’t say for sure. It feels like his migraines have been more frequent and sometimes his mood is all over the place, but that’s the only AJ I’ve ever known so I’m not really the best judge.”

  Lilith nodded in thought. “He’s lucky to have you.”

  Jillian smiled. “It goes both ways.”

  *

  Jillian arrived home to her dear brother working at an obsessive pace trying to figure out who sent her that text. It pissed him off that Knox dismissed its possible threat. A lot of things about Knox pissed him off.

  “Everything is a fucking dead end.”

  “Maybe it was sent to me by mistake. You know, wrong number,” she murmured as she sent AJ a text.

  Jillian: Still on for dinner tonight?

  She’d texted him earlier about grabbing dinner before her Lascivio party.

  “The average person doesn’t have an untraceable number. Even private numbers are easy to break if you know what you’re doing.”

  AJ: Dinner?

  Jillian: Yes … we agreed on Thai.

  AJ: Right, sorry. Long day.

  Jillian: Coming home soon?

  AJ: Yes, see you in an hour.

  Jillian: OK

  “Well, I’m going to dinner with AJ tonight. I think you should come with us. You need to get out and shut your brain down for a few hours.”

  “No thanks. I’m too on edge. He’ll look at you the wrong way and piss me off. It’s better if I don’t witness your fucked-up relationship any more than I have to.”

  “Real nice, Jack. Speaking of fucked-up relationships … how is Sesame Street girl?”

  “That’s over.” Jackson kept pounding the keys to his laptop.

  “Sorry to hear that. What happened? Did she want to enhance Mr. Snuffelupagus with Play-Doh? Or did you screw her mom on Black Beauty?”

  Jackson looked up. “First, you haven’t seen Mr. Snuffelupagus since we were like … five. If you had then you’d know there’s no way in hell I need enhancement in that department. Second, I have a little more respect than having sex on my piano.”

  “Respect for your piano, not the woman, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Typical. I’m going to shower before AJ gets home. Guess you’re on your own for dinner tonight.”

  “Greta gave me a standing invite to dinner, or any meal for that matter, at her house. And she can seriously cook.”

  Jillian shut the bathroom door. “Yeah, yeah … so I’ve heard,” she grumbled to herself.

 
; She stepped into the hot shower letting it rain over her head while closing her eyes. It had been months since she’d let herself remember that day with Luke—the bed, the ropes, the most emotional sex she’d ever had. The first time in her life she made love.

  Letting her hand slide between her legs, she replayed the way he touched her body. They spent hours in her bed, indulging in every part of each other. It was raw carnal need. It was sex. It was the most beautiful destiny. It was a worshipping love … a once-in-a-lifetime love. She leaned back against the wall and let a soft moan escape as she had one last orgasm for Luke.

  She emerged from the shower as Jillian Knight: woman on a mission to find her own life, her own love. What better way to forge ahead with that journey than dinner with AJ at a Thai restaurant with cloth napkins.

  “What do you think?” Jillian twirled around in her short black racer-back dress and heels.

  Jackson dropped from his pull-up bar. “For dinner or work tonight?”

  “Both.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you won’t make it to work if you wear that to dinner. AJ’s an old guy, but I’ve gathered from your incessant ‘Aric James’ cries that his dick still works.”

  “So you’re saying I look hot?”

  Jackson’s face morphed into a sour look. “No. God no!”

  “But if I weren’t your sister you’d totally do me, right?”

  “Jesus, Jill!”

  The admittedly sick and twisted sister turned on her high heels and giggled all the way to the front door, peeking out to see if she could see AJ’s Jeep. The seventy degree evening invited her out to sit on the stoop while she waited for him. He was a half hour late and she tapped her heel on the concrete feeling a little upset and a lot disappointed that they were probably going to miss dinner. She had to be back by seven for her party.

  “I’m feeling stood up, Sarge. I have to work at seven, and I’m dressed for sin. Your loss buddy.” She pressed End and headed back in the house.

  “That was quick. He forget to take his Viagra?”

  “Funny, Jack-ass. He’s being such a guy today, like you. It’s as if he forgot we even had plans until I reminded him. Now he’s late, not answering his phone, and he hasn’t called me back.”

  “Are you pissed or worried?”

  “Both.” She frowned. “But more worried than pissed.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Welcome to my world.”

  She slipped off her heels and plunked down on the chair next to him. “This worrying crap sucks. That’s why I don’t do it very often.”

  Her phone chimed.

  Jackson’s brows perked. “And there he is.”

  Jillian looked at her phone. “It’s not him.” She swiped her finger across the screen. “Hello?”

  “Jillian, it’s Cage.”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “My dad … I just got a call from the hospital. He’s been in an accident.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “I’m on my way there now. The nurse said he’s stable, but other than that she couldn’t elaborate on the extent of his injuries. They’re running some tests now.”

  Jillian jotted down the hospital information as Cage gave it to her. Then she grabbed her purse and slipped back on her shoes. “I’ll see you there.”

  Jackson stood. “What happened?”

  “AJ … he’s been in an accident.” She looked around. “Dammit! Where’s my purse.”

  Jackson tugged the strap already on her shoulder. “I think it’s best if I take you.”

  She sighed, closing her eyes, and nodded.

  *

  As expected, they arrived before Cage and were refused any information about AJ’s condition because they weren’t family.

  “I should have said I’m his wife.” Jillian paced the waiting room.

  “Don’t even go there,” Jackson deadpanned.

  “You know what I mean,” she huffed.

  “Jillian.” She turned. Cage stepped off the elevator.

  She frowned. “They won’t tell me anything.” He gave her a hug.

  “Wait here.” Cage checked in at the nurses station then came back. “He’s done with the tests and in a room now. You can come in with me.”

  Jillian looked back at Jackson.

  “I’m good out here.”

  She nodded.

  The doctor was just leaving as they entered the room. He gave them a somber nod.

  “Dad. Jesus, are you okay?”

  A faint smile pulled at AJ’s lips. He had gauze wrapped around his head, but no other visible injuries. Jillian stayed back a few feet, giving them space.

  “Yes, nothing major. A few stitches…” he pointed to the side of his head “…and a mild concussion.”

  Cage’s shoulders relaxed. “What happened?”

  “Some idiot t-boned me. Totaled my poor Jeep.” AJ gave Jillian a fleeting glance as if he couldn’t hold her gaze.

  Something felt off.

  “When can I take you home?”

  “Not until tomorrow. They’re keeping me for observation and to run a few more tests.”

  “Okay. I’ll call Grandma and Grandpa.”

  AJ nodded, giving Jillian another quick glance. “Can you call them in the waiting room? I need to talk to Jillian.”

  “Sure.” Cage gave AJ’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m so relieved you’re okay.”

  When the door closed, Jillian eased toward AJ. “Hey, I was worried and rightfully so.”

  AJ reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He forced a smile. “You look incredible. Too damn sexy as usual.”

  She sat on the edge of his bed. He rested his hand on her bare knee.

  “If you were willing to endure a concussion and a few stitches just to keep me from going to my Lascivio party tonight, I could have accommodated you.”

  He smiled. Once again it was forced—a nervous smile. The look someone has when a million thoughts run through their brain, crashing into each other.

  “What’s wrong?” She rested her palm on his cheek, brushing her thumb over his stubbly chin.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  If she wouldn’t have known better—wouldn’t have known his iron-fisted personality, she would have thought the glassiness in his eyes was tears.

  “O-kay. You’re scaring me … just say it.”

  He nodded. The pain in his face conveyed the weight of his unspoken words. When he said them, his voice cracked and so did he. “Jillian … I love you.”

  To be continued …

  For everyone who lives on the edge, proceed to the optional cliffhanger.

  Middle of Knight – Chapter One

  Knight

  The signs were everywhere. That twenty-twenty hindsight was an evil, gloating bitch. What incentive was there to ponder a question that had already been answered? The PTSD was a catch-all. AJ knew it. Jillian dismissed it. Fate seized it.

  I love you. Why would he say those words? Jillian Knight pondered that question while her brother, Jackson, drove her home from the hospital.

  “So you just ran out?” Jackson asked, making a quick sideways glance.

  “Walked. I walked out. I told AJ I needed to do something.”

  “And what was that?”

  “I needed to get the hell out of there.”

  “Why?”

  “He said … ‘I love you.’”

  “I see … Actually, I don’t. You’re going to have to help me out on this one.”

  “Why would he say that? Was his accident some near-death experience that brought about this rush of irrational feelings? And it wasn’t just that he said it. It was the way he said it. It’s like someone had a gun to his head.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “No … I-I don’t know. That’s just it. What was I supposed to say? Thank you, or I’d rather you wouldn’t?”

  “So what now?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Foo
d, beer, and then I’ll face him tomorrow.”

  By eleven o’clock that night, with the help of four bottles of Heineken, Jillian had an epiphany. It was a new record for her. Most epiphanies didn’t happen until the end of the sixth bottle of Heineken.

  “Jackie?” she whispered, opening Jackson’s bedroom door.

  “What the hell did you call me?” he grumbled with his head buried in his pillow, the bed sheet draped low on his waist.

  Jillian giggled, then hiccuped. “Jackie … I figured it out.”

  He flipped over, raising up on his elbows, eyes squinted against the hall light. “Call me that again and I’ll knock you out before the beer gets to it.”

  “Scooch over.” She stumbled to his bed.

  “I’m naked.”

  “So … scooch.” Jillian wedged her way into his bed.

  Jackson retreated to the other side, securing the sheet around his waist.

  “I’ve decided to love AJ.”

  “Decided?”

  Jillian rolled onto her side facing Jackson with her cheek rested on her folded hands. “Yes. Why not? Right? He’s mature, and good in bed, and he gets me, and he’s good in bed, he’s strong and grumpy, which I find oddly sexy. Oh … did I mention he’s good in bed?”

  Jackson stared at the ceiling. “Yes, you mentioned that.” He chuckled. “Sex doesn’t mean love.”

  “I never said that. God … all you guys think about is sex,” she slurred each word. “I’m serious. He’s my chance. You’re going to find that happily ever after and she’s not going to want me living with you forever. AJ will take me.”

  “God, you’re so drunk right now. That’s it, huh? You can just decide to love him like love’s a choice? And you’re basing this deep emotion on the possibility that he ‘gets’ you, or even more pathetic … that he’ll ‘take’ you. You’re making yourself sound like a stray dog. You need to get off the booze. It’s beginning to rob your self-esteem.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’d rather he love me than hate me. He’s had a vasectomy so he’s not looking for a baby mama, and he’s definitely not clingy so in some ways he’s the perfect guy. And I have these feelings for him and maybe they’re love. I’m not going to lose him because my head is messed-up. When Cage called me earlier, I swear my heart stopped. It has to be love.”