In Your Corner

by Sarah Castille

  “If he doesn’t go to the hospital, he’ll need someone to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours in case of concussion.”

  “I’ll stay with him.”

  Jake’s eyes open, and he gives me a warm smile. “You sure, baby? I can be a difficult patient.”

  “I think I can handle you.”

  He raises one eyebrow and the look he gives me sends warm flutters through my belly. But before he can say something that would turn my cheeks into a raging inferno, the ring doctor pushes herself to her feet.

  “I’ll be back in a minute with the paperwork.”

  Fuzzy follows her out and I make a quick visual assessment of my Renegade, looking for injuries other than the obvious lump on his head. “Do you need anything? Ice, water…”

  “You.”

  Delicious warmth spreads over my body, like I’ve just dived into a warm vat of chocolate. Naked.

  “Here I am,” I whisper.

  Jake holds out his arms. “Here you are.”

  I fly across the room and throw myself against his chest. He squeezes me tight, burying his nose in my hair, and we hold each other for the longest time.

  “I’m sorry.” I murmur against his chest. “I was afraid if you saw that file you wouldn’t want to be with me. And Reid…I wouldn’t have…I was pushing him away…I didn’t…”

  “Shhhh.” Jake presses a soft kiss to my hair. “I don’t care about your past except that it made you who you are. And who you are is who I love. Everything. The good, the bad, the past, the present. I love you.”

  He loves me. Emotion overwhelms me. Weeks of hoping and dreaming, hours of self-chastisement and self-loathing, the stress and anxiety I’ve been carrying around…everything disappears in a rush, leaving a vacuum that can only be filled with tears.

  “Not quite the response I had expected.” He strokes his hand down my back. “I was hoping for a smile.”

  “Cry now. Smile later.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get myself together.” He sighs and brushes my hair behind my shoulder. “I had to seriously think about what made me happy. You, first of all. Any way I can get you. Whether you give yourself fully to me or not. My life is better with you in it.”

  “You have me,” I whisper. “All of me.”

  He holds my face in his hands and catches me with his gaze, then kisses me softly, and smiles. “Yeah, baby, I think I do.”

  “What else makes you happy?”

  Jake sighs and releases me. “Fighting. Teaching. Not the company. Not living in the past. And I was risking it all to make my Dad proud when I should have seen nothing I did would be enough. It was never enough when I was a kid and nothing has changed. But I convinced him of the benefits of selling the company and now my life is my own to live. I watched you do that, baby. You found a way to practice law the way you wanted to practice. How could I do any less?”

  “I’m happy for you.” I press my cheek against his chest and listen to the steady drum of his heart.

  “It all worked out for the best. My dad realized the money meant he had the freedom to do what he wanted. All his life he was tied to that company; even when I took it over, he wanted to stay involved. Now he has time to enjoy life. He and my mom booked a cruise; he took up golfing…not only that, the accountant who handled the books for the sale showed him it was Peter who had run the company down, and I had saved it.”

  I lean up and kiss his cheek. “For all it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

  He smiles. “So was he. I’d waited a lifetime to hear it from him, but coming from you, it means more than you can imagine.”

  Gently, I trace his smile with the pad of my thumb. With a low growl, he pulls me close and seals my lips with a kiss I feel clear to my toes. Want and need become one. I melt against him and he tightens his arm, deepening the kiss, burning me from the inside out.

  “Jake…” I try to look over my shoulder at the door, worried we’ll be interrupted by Fuzzy or the ring doctor, but Jake doesn’t seem to care. His head dips down and he kisses the side of my face, his soft lips trailing down my cheek and chin to the pulse at the base of my neck.

  “I can feel your heart here.”

  “I can feel it too. You set my heart free.”

  He pulls back and studies me, his eyes the deep azure blue of the warmest, deepest ocean.

  “I love you. I should have told you a long time ago.”

  Chapter 25

  YOU’RE MY EVERYTHING

  I am warm. Cozy. Safe. Drifting.

  Freezing.

  “What the…” I open my eyes to the sight of a naked and fully erect Jake kneeling between my legs with the bed covers in his hand.

  “Time to play, baby.”

  “I was sleeping. And you should be too. The doctor was worried you might have a concussion.”

  He traces lazy circles along the insides of my thighs. “Too much sleeping. Not enough playing.”

  My core tightens as his thumbs glide closer and closer to my center. I’m already wet and it’s been what? Thirty minutes? “How can you possibly get it up again? And I thought we ran out of condoms.”

  “Went to the store and bought some while you were asleep. Then I stroked your sweet pussy and listened to you moan.” He slicks a finger along my folds and trails my wetness along my inner thigh. “You liked it.”

  My cheeks burn with the fire of one hundred suns. “I was asleep.”

  “And dreaming of me.” He bends down and nibbles a trail from my belly button to my mound. I rub my hand over his head easing him down to where I want him to go.

  “I miss your hair,” I say softly. “It was handy for giving directions.”

  The look he gives me is carnal, intent. “Where do you want me to go, baby?”

  Swallowing hard, I point to the dresser. “How about over there to get my purse and you can have your present.”

  Jake sits back on his heels. “You bought me a present?”

  “Fetch.”

  His eyes narrow. Two seconds later, I am over his lap at the end of his bed, my ass in the air.

  Smack. His hand lands on my cheek with a sharp crack.

  I shriek and try to wiggle away as fire explodes across my backside, but Jake just tightens his grip and smacks again.

  “Very disrespectful.” Smack. “Just so you understand, in the time we’ve been apart, nothing has changed.” Smack. Smack. “In the bedroom, I am in control.” Smack.

  Shrieking and writhing on his lap, I look back over my shoulder and scowl. “You can be in control without smacking my ass.”

  He drives two fingers deep inside me and curls them to stroke against my sensitive spot. “But then you wouldn’t get this wet, baby. And I like you this wet. I want you this wet all the time.”

  “I do have a life beyond sexing it up with you.” My betraying body heats and I grind against his fingers, desperate for more.

  Jake laughs and smacks me again. “Not anymore. I’m gonna sex it up with you every chance I get. Now, go get my present.”

  He releases me and my burning ass and lies back on the bed, hands behind his head, legs spread, fully erect, and awaiting my pleasure. My very own pinup.

  Gingerly, I walk across the floor and grab my purse from the dresser.

  “Drop it.” His bark of warning startles me and I drop the purse.

  “What? What is it? Spider? Bee? Bomb?”

  Jake licks his lips. “Bend down and pick it up. Nice and slow. Show me that beautiful pink ass.”

  “Seriously? You almost gave me a heart attack so you could watch me bend over.”

  “Seriously, baby. You have got the finest ass I’ve ever seen. And now that it’s all pink and marked with my hand prints, it’s a work of art.”

  With a snort, I bend over and pick up my purse. Fast. But
I do give him a wiggle.

  When I return to the bed, I fish around for the tiny package the courier delivered yesterday afternoon. With a flourish, I hand it to Jake.

  He opens the little box and pulls out a small silver ring, open on one end, with two knobs on the edges. A smile curls his lips and he laughs. “This is a present for you.”

  “According to the woman at the body jewelry shop, it’s a present for both of us.” I brush my finger over the head of his cock and my cheeks heat. “Can I put it in?”

  Jake shakes his head. “If I have to sit here while you touch my cock with those soft hands, it will never happen.”

  I touch him.

  It doesn’t happen.

  At least, not that night.

  ***

  Heaven.

  This is heaven. I look around my office and smile. The workmen finally finished the renovations on the extra rooms last week. Good-bye paint cans, dust, and plastic. Hello country-chic decor, bright windows, polished chandeliers, and reclaimed antique furniture.

  Yes, I have a country chic law firm, from the mint green pie cupboard holding my files, to the chipped oak desk. Pastel prints of small French towns decorate the walls, and my white credenza holds a brand-new microwave, courtesy of Jake, and several framed pictures. Me and Jake on a boat ride across the Bay, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy. The two of us with Max and Makayla at the racetrack. Penny, Ray, and I after one of Fuzzy’s classes. And even one with my parents and me on the official opening day of my new law firm, since I never really had one.

  Claire, our new receptionist since Penny was promoted to PA, buzzes to let me know my new client has arrived for his five o’clock appointment and is waiting in the meeting room.

  When I walk into the reception area, Ray looks over his newspaper and nods. After much hemming and hawing, he finally agreed to let me recover the Victorian couch but insisted on choosing the fabric. He looks very comfortable on the almost-identical beige print of leaves and flowers, and, for a moment, I am tempted to join him. My clients are used to him by now. They know not to sit in his seat or touch his coffee table.

  “How was Get Fit or Die last night?”

  Ray snorts a laugh. “Fuzz thought he could break me. End of the night, he was the one doing push-ups. Next week, I’m in that ring. Man joins an MMA gym to fight. Man like me, more. I’m not there to jump around, waving my hands in the air.”

  Penny joins us from her office. “If you wanted to get out of Get Fit or Die, you should have done what I did: rip the head off Grapple Man and toss it at Fuzzy’s feet. Made him laugh so hard he was helpless to refuse my request to take Grunt ’n’ Grapple. I was on that mat faster than you can say psychopath. Got a good beating for it from Shayla.”

  She holds up her makeup kit and gives me a wink. “Little touch-up before your meeting? Client is in his early to mid-thirties, well-dressed, hot, and has a housing issue.”

  “Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know with a newly fuzzy head, but his housing issue is that he wants us to live together since I spend all my time at his place anyway.”

  Claire and Penny share a glance. Then Penny whips open the makeup kit and places it on Claire’s desk. “Just a tiny bit under the eyes. You’re looking a little tired.”

  “That’s because Jake and Max had it out in the practice ring yesterday and Jake won. He was…” I hesitate and my cheeks burn. “Very pleased.”

  Ray snorts a laugh. Penny gives me a touch-up. Claire fluffs my hair. Ray muses about why people make a big production out of simple things. I wonder what the hell is going on.

  Finally, I grab a notepad and pen and walk down the corridor to the newly appointed meeting room. Along the way, I check out the two rooms that will become offices for the new associates I hired: Jill, to help with the paying clients, and a friend from the community legal aid clinic to manage the pro bono side of the firm. We are busy at Amanda Westwood, LLP. And I hope it stays that way.

  The door to the meeting room, a normal-height slab of beige wood, stands ajar. Taking a moment to compose myself, I step into the room, ready to meet my newest client.

  Light floods across the thick, cream carpet through floor-to-ceiling windows. Dust motes dance in the sunbeams. A small, polished oak table with four comfy, cream leather chairs takes up the center space. I inhale the scents of leather and furniture polish and a whiff of something else, sharp and clean like an ocean breeze.

  Familiar.

  Across the room, the client is pouring himself a glass of water from the tray on the credenza. From the back, he takes my breath away. A tight, white T-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and follows the frame of his body down to a narrow waist and a deliciously sexy pair of worn, ripped jeans that hug his perfect, tight ass. No more suits and ties for my carpenter and licensed amateur fighter who has dreams of going pro. He is back where he wants to be, doing what he loves to do, and looking damn fine as he does it.

  I close the door. As the latch clicks, he turns to face me.

  My heart squeezes as it always does when I see him. I place my legal pad on the table and close the distance between us. “What a nice surprise,” I whisper, brushing my lips over his. “You look beyond hot in those jeans. Did you come to sex me up?”

  “Mmmm.” He nibbles my ear. “I need an attorney.”

  “Mmmm. You have one.” I run my tongue over the seam of his lips until he opens for me, and then I slip inside to taste him. Two seconds later, he hauls me against his body, hand fisting my hair, as he devours my mouth.

  “Down, girl,” he mumbles against my lips, although now he’s the one in charge. “Seriously, I need an attorney.”

  “Why didn’t you just talk to me about it last night?” I stroke my hand over the Team Redemption logo on his shirt, and then lower, toward his belt.

  Jake grasps my hand and pulls it away. “This is why. You’re too distracting.”

  “Um…who came home all pumped from his big fight, stripped off my clothes, and carried me into the shower with him?”

  “Only after you decided to check if I was wearing your present.” He backs away and perches on the edge of the table.

  With a soft harrumph of disappointment, I fold my arms. “What’s the problem?”

  He pulls a file folder from his briefcase and holds it out to me. “I’ve got this property, a heritage property. It’s empty and I need someone to live in it, or the neighbors might deem it abandoned and call for it to be torn down.”

  My head falls back and I groan. “Not another one. You and your vacant heritage homes. Well, I’ve helped you out once already at an incredible sacrifice to myself. Really, I should be working from a sterile, characterless prefab office overlooking the Bay.”

  Jake’s eyes sparkle and he motions to the folder. “Just check it out.”

  “Fine.” I open the file. It contains a key and a bundle of real estate documents.

  I give Jake a questioning look and he taps the top paper. “Read.”

  So I read. And a sob wells up in my throat.

  “This company…?” I tap the page.

  “Belongs to me.”

  “You bought my grandmother’s house?” My words are barely a whisper.

  “Yeah, baby, I did.”

  I grab a tissue and dab at my eyes. “But we weren’t even together when the sale went through.”

  “You’re mine, baby. Always were. I needed some time to clear my head, but I never stopped loving you.”

  “I can’t tell you—”

  He cuts me off and pulls a shopping bag off the chair. “Bought you another present.”

  “I don’t need another present. This is the best present I ever got.”

  “This one’s better.” He shoves the plastic bag toward me.

  Smiling through my tears, I reach inside and pull out a pair of fight gloves.
My smile becomes a grin. “Does this mean I passed Pulverize or Perish?”

  “Try them on,” he urges. “The fit is critical. Once you find the perfect fit, you’ll never want anything else.”

  I slide my hand into the glove and my finger hits cold metal. “There’s something inside this one.”

  “Pull it out.”

  So I do.

  A diamond ring glitters in my palm. Eyes wide, I meet Jake’s warm gaze.

  “You can’t live in that big house alone,” he says softly. Taking the ring from my hand, he slips it over my finger. “Perfect fit.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  He kisses me softly, sweetly, tenderly. And then he eases me back on the boardroom table. “I’ve never done it in a boardroom.”

  “Me neither.”

  “So I’m your first?”

  “You’re my first, my last, my everything.”

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to my editor, Cat Clyne, for loving Redemption and giving it sparkle, and to my agent, Laura Bradford, for her infinite patience and wisdom. To CaRWA for their continual support and friendship, and to Bev Katz Rosenbaum, whose wicked pen helped mend my wicked ways. And always thanks to my family for their endless patience and growing tolerance of burned dinners.

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Sarah Castille, worked and traveled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes erotic contemporary romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them.