Savaged

by Mia Sheridan

  “You shaved,” she said, bringing her hand to his smooth cheek, just the bare hint of dark stubble underneath his skin. He was ridiculously handsome, his jawline strong, his cheekbones high and sharp, but a part of her mourned. It was the first outward proof of his changing. She knew it was inevitable now that he was living as part of society. She knew it was good and positive. She knew he’d learn and grow and change as he should. As he deserved. She knew all those things, but she still felt the loss of the part of him he’d leave behind to become the man he was meant to be.

  He laughed, releasing her, his gaze roaming over her as though his eyes were starved for the sight. “You didn’t call me,” he said, and she saw the hurt in his expression.

  She stepped back, frowning. “I did call you. I left four messages.”

  Jak frowned too, glancing over her shoulder. She looked back. She’d forgotten the butler was still standing near the front door. What was his name again? His gaze was directed elsewhere, but she felt momentarily embarrassed for the public display of affection.

  Jak took her hand, leading her out of the foyer. “He’s like a weasel,” he said under his breath, leaning toward her as he glanced back again. “Always slinking through the house.” He put the emphasis on the word slinking as though it was a new one and he had looked it up specifically to describe the man. He grinned proudly and Harper laughed, covering her mouth.

  He opened a pair of wide mahogany doors that went all the way to the tall ceiling of the hallway and ushered her inside. She sucked in a delighted breath as she looked around at the impressive library, bookshelves filled with books from floor to ceiling. There was a reading light on in the corner, next to an overstuffed red velvet chair. “Is that where you’ve been?” she asked, nodding toward the chair.

  “For three days,” he answered, letting go of her hand and walking away, his face tipped upward as he looked around at all the books. “Isn’t it incredible? It would take me the rest of my life to read all these books.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, it looks like you’re making pretty great progress.” She looked pointedly at the teetering stacks of books next to the red chair. “Did you really read all of those?”

  “Not all. Some I didn’t like as much as others. The pile in front are the ones I want to read again.”

  She laughed. “Well, if you’re re-reading, it might take you the rest of your life to get through this collection.”

  He smiled happily. “I’ve learned so many new words, Harper.” He looked up, recalling. “Distressed and bewildered. Anxious. Accepting. Indignant.”

  She studied him for a second, noting the words that seemed to matter to him the most were emotions. Her heart flipped. She wondered if he’d tried to describe his own feelings to himself all these years and had come up short. I love you, she thought for the hundredth time since she’d first realized it, and yes, it was as simple as that. She took in his smile as he gazed around. “Do you like it here, Jak?”

  He sat on the edge of the table behind him, crossing his arms casually over his chest, his biceps straining the material. In that moment, he looked so unlike the caveman she’d watched in that cell what seemed like a thousand years ago. In that moment, he looked like a . . . well, like a Fairbanks. He appeared thoughtful and then spoke haltingly. “I like some things . . . I like the shower.” He grinned. “And . . . I like this room the most. Some of the food is good. But . . . I’m not sure about the people who live here or . . . the birds.”

  “The birds?”

  “My grandfather’s wife is a bird woman. She has a roomful of hundreds of birds. They’re called tropical and they live in cages.” He shivered.

  “Ah. An aviary.” Yes, she could imagine that would be very strange to him. Strange and possibly sad to see caged birds when he’d only ever known them to fly free. She found it sad.

  “Aviary,” he repeated. “Yes, that’s the word.” He stood suddenly, moving forward, taking her in his arms and, though he looked like a Fairbanks, she was glad he still moved like a hunter. “I missed you,” he growled against her ear, walking her backward until her butt hit the edge of another table. She thrilled at his words, his touch, the hard length of his body pressed to hers. She opened her legs so he could step between them.

  “I missed you too. When I didn’t hear back from you, I thought maybe . . .” She turned her eyes from his, vulnerability making her feel shy. He moved his head to the side, lining their eyes up again so she was forced to look at him.

  “What?”

  “Well, just that you were getting acquainted with your new life . . . that . . .”

  “That I didn’t want to see you?”

  She blushed. “Yes.” She shook her head, grimacing. “No, I understood.” She let out a small uncomfortable laugh. “I mean, you should take all the time you need to get acquainted with your new life.”

  A crease formed between his eyes. “It feels like I have more time now. I don’t have to hunt for food, and before . . . I lived by the sun’s rising and setting, so I’ve been very . . . tired here.” His brows dropped as though he wasn’t satisfied with the word he’d chosen. “The days feel . . . strange. But, Harper, I want you to be part of my days. All of my days. Do you want me to be part of yours?”

  “Yes,” she answered, a catch in her voice as she nodded.

  He smiled and she guessed that was that. He leaned forward again, rubbing his lips on her throat, inhaling her scent. She leaned her head back, offering him as much access as he needed. “I need to ask who to get my messages from,” he murmured. “So I don’t miss one of yours again.”

  “Mm,” she hummed. “I’m glad I got up the nerve to stop by.”

  “Me too,” he whispered back, licking slowly up her neck, causing her to gasp, a surge of moisture accompanying a deep throb between her legs. She clawed lightly at his back, and he emitted a low growl in his throat. Thrill and fear coursed through her as it seemed to do when he did something decidedly . . . animalistic. Another throb made her moan.

  “Jak,” she sighed.

  “You make me feel exultant,” he breathed against her neck.

  She let out a small laugh that was part whimper as he nipped at her skin. “Exultant?”

  “Mm,” he hummed, bringing his head up and meeting her eyes, a smile teasing his lips. “It means happy but more. I feel exultant when I’m with you.”

  Oh, God, he was sweet. And sexy. And . . . yes, she felt exultant too.

  He brought his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, thoroughly, the world fading away around her. He tasted like cinnamon and smelled like something new . . . a soap or an aftershave, a product he hadn’t had before. It was subtle, and it smelled good, but she remembered the heavenly night they’d spent in her bed, the way his masculine scent had still been on her skin the next morning—clean male, sex . . . him. She knew a person could hardly go through life not smelling like something other than themselves—soap, laundry detergent—but she’d miss the way he smelled before a million products got hold of him.

  “I missed kissing you,” he said, trailing his lips down her throat again. “I missed being inside you, making love. I want to be inside you now.” He took her hand and led it to his erection, hard, straining the material of his pants.

  A flush of heat blossomed under her skin. Oh, yes. She wanted him too. “We can’t, Jak,” she moaned. “Not here.”

  “Why not? No one will come in here.”

  She laughed, and it ended in a moan as he moved his hips, rubbing his erection between her open legs. Her hardened nipples grazed his chest and lightning arced downward to the place that was aching for him to fill. “Because, it’s your grandfather’s library. It’s just . . . it’s not . . .”

  He pulled back slightly, looking at her. “People only make love in beds?” he asked, looking truly interested, perhaps a little outraged. It made her want to giggle.

  “Well . . . no, not only, but . . . usually. Normally. I mean, people can do it wherever they want ex
cept in public. Even then . . . some people do, just discreetly. They, er, enjoy the thrill of, oh, being caught.”

  He was staring at her with great interest now. His cheeks were flushed the way they got when he was aroused. “The thrill?”

  “Well, some people find thrill in that.”

  “Do you find . . . thrill in that?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No, not generally. Although, you know, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it and all that.”

  “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” he repeated, his brow wrinkling. God, he was so adorably sexy. “I’ll try anything with you, Harper.”

  She groaned, taking his face in her hands and bringing his lips back to hers. He used his tongue to probe slowly inside her mouth, mimicking the same movement he was making with his hips, driving her crazy, driving her over—

  “Ahem.”

  Harper let out a surprised gasp, sitting straight up, Jak jolting in front of her. She scooted quickly off the table, turning, straightening her shirt, and quickly smoothing her hair.

  Jak’s grandfather was standing in the doorway, staring at them with thin-lipped disapproval. “Sir,” she said too quickly, too breathlessly. “Uh, hello, Mr. Fairbanks, sir, good to see you.”

  He gave her a precursory glance, his eyes doing a quick once-over of them both. She refused to look down at Jak, though she grimaced internally, knowing exactly what Jak looked like at the front of his previously pressed khakis.

  Embarrassing didn’t begin to cover it.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” his grandfather said. “The whole family’s here. I wanted to make sure you joined us, Jak.”

  Harper didn’t miss the way he pointedly said Jak’s name, but left her out. “Oh, well, I should go—”

  “Harper will stay,” he said, not breaking eye contact with his grandfather. Jak took her hand. For a tense moment they stared at each other. Was she missing something? She realized this was an awkward situation, but Jak’s grandfather was only making it ten times worse. Jak leaned forward, sniffing the air, his brow wrinkling. “What is that?” he asked, a strange tone to his voice.

  Jak’s grandfather brushed at the front of his shirt, looking suddenly chastised for some reason. “Er, cigar smoke. Bad habit. I promised Loni I’d quit.” He looked at Harper, giving her a slight smile. “Forgive my rudeness. I was surprised to find Jak had company. Of course, you may join us for dinner.”

  “Oh. Um—” Jak squeezed her hand and she gave him a quick glance, understanding that he was telling her he wanted her there, not to decline dinner. Please, his eyes seemed to say. “Thank you for the dinner invitation. I’d love to join you.”

  He gave her a smile that looked halfway genuine. “Good. I’ll see you both in the dining room in five minutes.” With that, he turned, exiting the room, and Harper sunk back to the table, putting her face in her hands. “Ugh,” she said, lifting her gaze to Jak. “I just made an awful impression, didn’t I?”

  His face did that thoughtful thing it did for a moment as he worked out a word. Impression, she imagined and then he shook his head slowly. “The . . . my grandfather . . .” He looked behind her, seeming to be choosing the right words. “I think he was a different person before . . . my father died. A better person.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “His smile in the pictures here . . . the ones before and the ones . . . after. It’s different.”

  She studied him. Trusted his judgment. He was perceptive. It made her feel a form of . . . honor that he wanted her in his life. He’d chosen her. Then again, it wasn’t as though he had an assortment of choices. Stop it, Harper. She had this habit of convincing herself people only chose her out of default. Maybe that particular hurt had come from very real circumstances, but at some point, she had to find her own value and believe in it. Might as well be now.

  She took his hand. “Come on. Introduce me to your new family.”

  As they drew nearer to the dining room, she heard voices, glasses clinking, and a woman’s laugh. There was a powder room to the right, and Harper, feeling a burst of nerves, stopped. “I’m just going to freshen up and I’ll meet you in there. Go on without me.” She nodded to the room beyond.

  “Okay,” Jak said, bending forward and kissing her quickly on the lips. “Hurry,” he mouthed, giving her a wide-eyed stare and tilting his head toward the room where the others waited. She put her hand over her mouth so as not to laugh out loud, and his lip twitched too before he turned and headed into the dining room.

  She took a minute to freshen up and take a few deep breaths, and then walked quietly in the direction of the dining room. As she approached, she heard Mr. Fairbanks’s voice saying her name and came to a halt. He was directly on the other side of the doorway and was saying something about her as she noticed clinking ice dropping into a glass. “I know you’re new to civilized life, Jak, but we don’t rut like animals,” he murmured, obviously trying to keep his voice low. Harper’s heart sank. Oh God. It was as bad as she thought it was. Shame washed through her.

  “I wasn’t rutting,” came Jak’s voice, matter-of-factly. “I was making love.”

  Harper grimaced, while simultaneously having the impulse to laugh out loud. Gah. Jak. She pressed her lips together, suppressing a groan. He was so sweet, and so damned unknowingly inappropriate sometimes.

  Mr. Fairbanks choked on what sounded like a sip of his beverage, a short laugh emerging before he cleared his throat. “Be that as it, er, may, you have more important things to be focusing on right now.” He paused and Harper thought it sounded like he took a drink, the ice clinking in his glass. “I saw the pile of books in the library. Planning on reading them?”

  “I already did read them.”

  There was a beat of silence—surprise?—and then Mr. Fairbanks said, “Very impressive. Good.” She heard what sounded like a shoulder pat. “We’ll get you up to speed yet, son. You’ll be one of us in no time.”

  Harper backed up very softly and then made sure her footsteps sounded on the marble floor as she entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face.

  Jak came toward her immediately, clasping her hand and kissing her cheek. She smiled up at him. “Harper,” Mr. Fairbanks said in greeting.

  “Sir, thank you again for having me.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. May I offer you a drink?” He nodded over his shoulder to the bar cart that he had obviously been standing at when Harper overheard him.

  “No, thank you. Just water with dinner is fine.”

  The people standing in the opposite corner of the room, approached. An older woman with long blonde hair and a yellow dress, as beautiful and coiffed a person as Harper had ever seen, was in the lead. Jak’s grandfather’s wife, Jak’s step-grandmother she guessed. The woman held out her perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Loni Fairbanks. You must be Harper.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She shook her hand. The woman had a grip like an injured bird. “It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me to dinner.”

  “Oh, of course. I think it’s so nice that Jak has a little friend.”

  Little friend?

  She glanced at Jak, and Jak was looking at her with an expression that seemed to be half hostility and half confusion. Jak obviously was leery of the “bird woman.” As a matter of fact, she looked like a tropical bird. Colorful and sharp. Beautiful, but might peck your eyes out if given the chance.

  A second woman approached. She was about Harper’s age with blonde hair to her shoulders and Loni’s same delicately pointy features. She smiled tightly at Harper, her eyes doing a once-over that made Harper want to fidget and explain why she was dressed so casually. I didn’t expect to stay for dinner. I didn’t dress for what is obviously a dressier occasion than at most people’s homes. She thought briefly of the warm welcome they’d both received from the Gallaghers, the immediate feeling of inclusion, and felt a pang within. I wish we were there now. Not here, with these people who obvi
ously see me as an unwelcome outsider.

  “I’m Gabi.” She held out her hand and gave Harper the same limp shake her mother had, offering her a phony-looking smile that was simultaneously bored.

  “Harper,” she said. The young woman stepped away, her smile having disappeared as quickly as it’d come, her face settling into an expression of supreme apathy.

  “Well, hi there.” A young man stepped forward, holding out his hand to Harper. She took it. Finally, someone who didn’t seem afraid to touch her. He gripped her hand tightly in his, smiling, his teeth large and bright white. “I’m Brett.” His eyes did a slow appreciative sweep of her that made Harper want to squirm.

  “Hi. I’m Harper Ward. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Brett and Gabi are Loni’s children, and Brett works for me at Fairbanks Lumber,” Mr. Fairbanks said. “You’re all about the same age I believe. I’ve been trying to enlist Brett and Gabi to teach Jak what he needs to know about technology. Lord knows I’m pitifully inadequate when it comes to any of these apps the kids are using.” He smiled at Brett and Gabi, and Gabi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes dramatically. Wow. Was she really Harper’s age? She seemed petty, more like a twelve-year-old. Then again, Harper had probably come across as the town floozy. Everyone deserved a second chance, right? “I’d be happy to teach Jak the basics. I’m not on a lot of social media, but I can show him how it works.” She smiled at Jak and he looked relieved, taking her hand in his again. “He . . . probably needs a cell phone though,” she said, thinking as much of him as of herself, and how she’d felt like a stalker, calling him repeatedly over the last few days with no answer.

  “Of course.” Mr. Fairbanks grimaced. “I can’t believe I let that slip my mind. Jak, my secretary will set you up with a cell phone.”

  Harper squeezed his hand again, letting go.

  A woman in a black and white uniform poked her head in the door telling them dinner was ready.

  “Oh good. I’m starved,” Mrs. Fairbanks purred. But her eyes were on Jak and she licked her lips. Had she . . . had she meant that the way it seemed? Harper gave herself an internal head shake. Surely not.