by Tess Oliver
“Copper everywhere I look.” His warm breath tickled the moist folds of my sex.
My eyes drifted shut, intoxicated and nearly senseless with the feel of his tongue, teasing me at first and then stroking the intimate, tight bud. As the pressure of his mouth intensified, I instinctively reached for his head, pushing him harder against me. My hips moved in rhythm with his probing tongue, and my entire body quivered with anticipation of the coming explosion.
“Jackson, please.” I couldn’t think straight. All I felt, the only thing in the world at that second was his mouth on my pussy. If he had pulled away right then, it would have been nothing short of torture. Practiced, it was a word that suited him perfectly. He knew exactly what he was doing, and as his tongue flicked wildly across my tight bud, his fingers found the pool of slick moisture. He slid a thick finger inside of me and stroked my deepest, most intimate parts, bringing not just my pussy but my entire body to overwhelming waves of pleasure. My cry was lost in the room as I arched against his mouth, wanting to absorb every stroke of his tongue.
As the shuddering pulses lessened, my body relaxed and I caught my breath. Jackson stood from the bed. His blue eyes were like the blue of the mountains we’d just come from, dark and brooding and breathtaking. The tattoo to honor his fallen comrades and the puckered scar on his side, both profound reminders of his bravery as a soldier, moved with the tight muscles of his abdomen as he finished opening his pants. He gazed down at me through dark lashes as he pulled a yellow tin from his pocket and then pushed the pants to the floor. His thick, long erection glistened with moisture. Watching him sheath himself with the thin rubber shield made heat stir between my legs again. I was sure that I’d been spent, but I was wrong. It seemed that with Jackson, the satisfaction would come more than once.
He knelt on the bed and lowered himself over me. The muscles in his strong arms strained. It seemed he was holding himself back, as if once released he would not be able to stop. It was that pent up energy, that restrained desire that made me shiver with expectation. His tongue drew tantalizing circles around my taut nipple as his mouth covered my breast. I briefly closed my eyes to take in the pure pleasure of it.
My hands reached up and I smoothed my palms over the rigid muscles of his arms and shoulders. They were the kind of arms that a girl could feel eternally safe in. “Jackson,” I said softly, “come here to me.”
He lifted his face from my breast and peered up at me with dark blue eyes for a second. He moved forward on his arms and lowered his face over mine. His mouth hovered just over my lips.
I pressed my hand against his face. I knew then that I’d allowed myself to get lost in the thought of this man, and that I was going to be utterly devastated when I had to leave him. But I wanted this badly. “Please, Jackson.” I spread my thighs wider for him as he settled down between them.
His gaze never left my face as he reached under my naked bottom to push my hips higher and make my sex more open to him. With a slow precision that belied the hunger on his face, he pushed inside of me, filling me completely. “Damn, Charli, baby, my sweet baby, you are so tight, so small, like a perfect glove.”
His deep, cool tone sent a tremor of need through me. I didn’t want this to stop, this connection we’d formed. I’d never felt so right for someone or had someone feel so right for me. He continued to watch me as he began to slide in and out, each time managing to press against every sweet spot.
“God, Jackson,” I reached up and clung to his arms. His muscles tightened and strained with each movement as his hips rocked against me. Then, as if a cork had been popped releasing energy, he moved faster and harder against me. I wrapped my legs around him to take him in deeper with each thrust. My body responded again, climbing to that edge that was one push away from complete ecstasy.
His thrusts were longer, more exaggerated now. Jackson gazed down at me through long black lashes. “Do you feel me, Charli, baby? I want you to feel every inch of me.”
He lowered his mouth and kissed me hard before his head swung back, and the groan that rolled from his throat brought on my own climax. My legs tightened and my body shuddered beneath his as we got lost in the physical delirium that washed over us.
As our ragged breaths slowed and the air in the room cooled the glow left behind on our naked skin, Jackson lowered himself to the mattress and pulled me into his arms. Outside his window, the crickets started their evening song and a dog barked in the distance. We relaxed for several minutes in the luxury of each other’s arms.
“My life is completely void of silence like this.” I snuggled tightly against him and fingered the pale black tattoo on his chest. “Living in a tent, amongst many other tents and people, is like living in a perpetual party. And not necessarily a good party. Peace and quiet doesn’t exist in a traveling show.”
He kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and pressed my face against him.
“You realize that you are now my prisoner, and I’m never going to let you go. You’ll have to hang up your motorcycle boots and traveling trunk because I’ve caught myself an Enchantress and I’m keeping her for myself. In fact, you can keep wearing the boots. I rather like them. But you have to stay.”
His words made me smile, and at the same time, they tugged at my heart. I squiggled even closer to him, and his arms tightened around me. It was bliss being in Jackson’s arms. Pure bliss. Soon, I’d have to work up the courage to say good-bye to him. But for now, I was just going to enjoy being near him.
Chapter 13
Jackson
Dealing with Griggs had, up to this point, been easy enough. He’d delivered on his half of our bargain by making sure that the Dentons left us alone. He’d also provided plenty of business. The people in the District definitely enjoyed their moonshine, and in the hush circles around Capitol Hill, Walter’s corn whiskey was becoming the most sought after liquor being run across the bridges.
Even though Gideon, Bodhi and I were filling our pockets with money, plenty of danger and apprehension came with the job. Most of that uneasiness came from having to deal with Griggs himself. His power had gone to his head, and his temper was explosive. Most days I only had to talk to one of his lackeys, which was always a relief. They would hand me an address, time and order and that would be as close as I got to the boss. But on unlucky days, I’d have to talk directly to Griggs. Those were the days when I regretted this business deal. Unfortunately, the lobbyist’s offer of leaving Griggs out as a middleman was as appealing as it was impossible. One whisper that I was skipping Griggs and delivering directly to his customers, and they’d be dragging the river for my body.
Swanson, the biggest and seemingly stupidest thug in Griggs’s army, took my gun and let me in the door. I stood in the front room of the speakeasy waiting for the asshole to hand me my instructions. Instead, he motioned with his bulbous head for me to follow.
“Where are we going?” The chairs were propped up on tables, and the floor had been swept and polished. It was dark and dingy but it was clean.
“Griggs wants to talk to you.”
“Shit.” I hadn’t been led to his office since the first day when I’d made him my offer.
Swanson turned his big face back to me as he led me past the two doors of the gambling rooms. “Did you say something?”
“Nope.” I knew there was no sense in asking the moose sized man what his pinch faced boss wanted. He wouldn’t have told me even if he did know. I wondered if it had anything to do with the tail he’d put on us when we were delivering to Mr. Albert.
Griggs was talking to two of his men in a hushed tone as we entered. He shooed his guys out and pointed to the chair across from his desk. I plucked off my hat and sat.
He finished putting some papers in a folder before offering me a cigarette, which I accepted. He struck a match, and I leaned over for a light. He lit his own and waved his hand to put out the flame. His chair squeaked as he leaned back and took a long hit off his Pall Mall. He squinted through the
smoke at me. “You like working for me, J.J.?”
Everything always seemed like a trick question when it was coming from Griggs. “I like working for you just fine.”
He nodded. “Good, that’s real good.”
Loud laughter rumbled from down the hallway.
Griggs inclined his head that direction. “Poker game. One of the players is Starfield, the carnival owner.” He leaned forward. The sudden movement made me stiffen. I’d teased Bodhi over retelling horror stories about Griggs, but I knew for a fact that he was ruthless and that he’d shoot you in the head for turning a nose up at him. “In fact, Starfield’s little business adventure starts today,” he continued. “Amateur fight ring. You should come watch. Place a bet. The carnival strongman is a fucking gladiator, a beast of a man. Have you met him?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
His cheeks sucked in as he pulled on his cigarette. It made his nose that much more pronounced. “I understand your brother is pretty good with his fist. Heard they call him Crusher in these parts.”
“He’s laid out a few people.”
He chuckled at my vague response. “He’s a regular at Breakers, isn’t he?”
I shrugged, not really feeling the need to answer.
“You should get him in the ring. That would be a match that would bring in big wagers. The Crusher versus Hector the Strongman. Your brother would be the one laid out as you so politely put it. But it would still be a good show.”
I wasn’t going to let him goad me into a debate about Gideon’s fighting skills. “Did you have a job for me today?” I decided this little interview had already gone on too long.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It seemed he was about to toss it to me but he stopped. His black eyes skewered me across the desk. “I had a tail on you the other morning when you were making a delivery.”
I nodded. “Yes, you did.”
“Ah, you saw him.”
“He wasn’t exactly discrete.”
“Fool,” Griggs muttered to himself. “I need to cut his take in half. Anyhow, to my point. He said you took a lot longer than necessary to drop off that whiskey. Had me a little concerned.”
“Concerned about what?”
He leaned forward again and casually pushed aside a pile of papers. Then he brushed them off the desk and they fluttered around the room. “Concerned about why the fuck it took you so long to drop off a damn crate of moonshine,” he barked.
I relaxed back, but my heart was pounding in my chest. The last place I wanted to die was in this weasel’s office and at his hands. “Albert was out in his yard.” I put the cigarette to my lips and inhaled. Griggs’s eye flickered with anger, but I kept my tone easy as I continued. “He’s one of those guys who likes to talk. He wanted my opinion on his garden. He was thinking about putting in a fountain.”
“A fountain?” He stared at me, and I gazed back at him, unflinching and ready for anything. “A fucking fountain?”
“Yep, a fucking fountain.”
Quiet tension drifted between us. He relaxed back with a laugh. Some of the tension went out of my shoulders. Then he drew his Colt out from under his jacket. He placed it on the desk in front of him as if he was just laying down a pencil. “You know what will happen if you double cross me, Jarrett?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
His propped his elbow on the desk next to the gun and pointed at me with his cigarette. “And it won’t just be you. In fact, I’ll let you live long enough to watch your brothers die first.”
“I understand,” I said darkly.
“Good.” He tossed me the paper. “Here’s the next job.”
I grabbed the paper and stood, wanting nothing more than to get the fuck out of his office.
“By the way,” he said, “I heard rumors that you were seen with that little carnival beauty, Charli.”
I froze in my steps.
“I hope those were only rumors.”
Every muscle tensed, but I kept a calm exterior. I looked back at him but didn’t respond.
“Because if you value this little partnership— and your life, for that matter, you will stay far away from her.”
“I didn’t know my social life was part of our deal.”
He stood up. I was a good head taller than him, but I was unarmed and he wasn’t. “I don’t give a fuck about your social life. I just want to make sure that Miss Starfield is not part of it.”
I swallowed back the dryness in my throat but decided not to say anything. The man was aching for a fight from me this morning, but the scale was leaning his direction because of the Colt in his holster and the grim reality that I was surrounded by his loyal, armed servants. One thing I knew for sure, I wouldn’t stay away from Charli, and if the weasel ever put a hand on her, then our partnership would come to a quick, bloody end.
“The fact that you’re not denying it says it all.” I wondered if he’d just wait for me to walk out and then shoot me in the back. “See, my partnership with Buck has some other perks besides taking money from easily duped gamblers.”
My jaw clenched. I could hear my teeth grind together. I stared at him, again steadfast, but now, rage flowed from me.
He picked up his gun and looked lovingly at it before pushing it back into his holster. “While that show is in town, that girl is off-limits to you. She’ll be busy with me.”
“Is that right? Does Charli know about this?” I knew it was suicidal to even get into a conversation like this with him, but he’d stepped into territory that I could no longer ignore.
“I’ve made my interest clear. And she has no real choice in the matter.”
I couldn’t hold back a short laugh. “Then, clearly, you don’t know Charli. She’s not exactly the kind of woman you can order around.”
“So, you are seeing her?”
I met his glare with my own.
“Not anymore,” he sneered through thin lips. “Charli will come around when she realizes that it’s life or death for that stupid fucking circus show. And now it seems I have one more thing to hold over her. She might not be the kind of woman you can order around, although I’ll give it my best shot, I assure you. But I’m sure she’s also not the kind of woman who wants to be responsible for the deaths of others.”
Badly, I wanted to reach across the fucker’s desk and pound in his bird nose.
He smiled. “From the look on your face, country boy, I’d say you understand me completely. Now get the fuck out of my office and get to work.”
Chapter 14
Jackson
Gideon leaned down to view the sky through the front windshield. “Those clouds will be here before midnight. Looks like a downpour.” He glanced pointedly down at the bottle of whiskey clutched in my hand. “What’s eating you? You’ve been like one of those thunderclouds all fucking day, dark and ready to piss icy rain all over everyone.”
I took another swig and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Shit¸ Jackson, you keep chugging down that brown, and you’ll be canned before we even get to the carnival.”
“That’s what I’m working on.” I’d left Breakers with my fists curled and wanting to break every thuggish face in the place. Griggs’s warning about double crossing him had been meaningless. I hadn’t planned on stepping out of line when it came to delivering the whiskey, but when he told me to stay away from Charli, our partnership took a steep dive.
“Yeah, I see that. But you haven’t told me why. Your face has been pinched like that since you came out of Breakers.”
“Gid, I told you I don’t want to talk about it. The man is an asshole, and I’m beginning to regret even starting up with him.”
“Seems to me that Bodhi and I warned you plenty about that.”
“Yep, you did.”
“Still, the money is nothing to complain about. We just need to keep our noses clean and not give Griggs any reason to put a bullet in our skulls.”
The car hopped temporarily off two tires as Gideon turned onto to the swath of dirt that had become the makeshift carnival parking lot. There were a lot of fancy cars parked along one side.
“Looks like Georgetown must be off for summer,” Gideon said with an edge of irritation. He shut off the car. “Now those candy talking college Joes will be all over the place. And they’ll be hanging around Rose’s show with their puny college boy hard-ons and their slick pick-up lines.” It seemed suddenly that my brother’s mood had sunk down next to mine.
I handed him the jar. He grabbed it and took a drink. “I’ll have to avoid Rose’s show, otherwise someone might end up bloodied and crying for their mama.”
“The amateur fight ring is open. From what I hear, Hector, the carnival strongman, is unstoppable. Griggs plans to make a lot of money off the poor saps who bet against him. Maybe you should step in the ring and blow off some steam.”
Gideon snorted. “Why the hell would I want to get into a punching match with a circus sideshow freak?” His mood seemed to grow more sour by the minute.
I grabbed back my bottle. “Well, with the way I’m feeling, I just might volunteer myself. I figure either I’d blow off some steam or get pummeled enough to not give a damn about anything.”
***
“Jeeez, that looked painful.” I pulled my eyes away from the stumbling fool in the fight ring. The man’s nose was definitely not in the same place it had been when he’d first climbed between the ropes, full of bluster and delusions that he could take on Hector. The Starfield strongman had white blond hair that was shaved close to his head. His handlebar moustache was waxed into curls on the ends, and his one piece jumpsuit had a leopard skin print. It was cut deep in the chest and arms to show off his muscles, of which he had plenty.
The cheers of people who had bet on the giant brute of a man bounced off the sides of the tent. In between the excitement, the disgusted groans of people who had bet against Hector circled the risers. Nothing about this new moneymaking venture looked anything remotely like a carnival show. If it weren’t for the wide red stripes jutting down from the pinnacle of canvas at the top of the tent, Gideon and I could just have easily been sitting in a dark, smoke filled basement watching two, unskilled boxers go at it.