Ruthless Protector

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Ruthless Protector Page 11

by Sherilee Gray


  “You gonna stop the bullshit and tell me what you were doing there tonight? Or how about, who that little fucker was who delivered you like a lamb to the slaughter?”

  She opened her mouth.

  “You feed me anymore lies, and we’ll have a serious problem,” I gritted out.

  Her spine straightened, chin lifting. “I wasn’t planning on it, seeing as it’s none of your damn business.”

  “Is that right?”

  She held her ground. The woman was tough, brave, but she also wasn’t stupid. She had to know she was danger tonight. She just didn’t know how much.

  “I was fine,” she said, losing some of the steel in her voice, telling me I was right.

  “You have any idea who those men were?” I asked.

  Her delicate jaw tightened and she reluctantly shook her head.

  “Drug runners, weapons dealers, pimps, murderers,” I said, so much gravel in my voice I barely recognized it. “You want to know what would have happened to you if Van and I hadn’t been there?”

  Her eyes had widened, but she kept her mouth clamped shut.

  “Jethro likes a girl at every game, likes some eye candy while he’s playing, making deals, then he takes them home, sometimes he keeps them a night, sometimes longer. None of them leave unscathed. They usually end up in hospital after he’s finished doing the sadistic shit that gets him off.”

  She grabbed for the handlebar of my bike to steady herself. “How…how do you know that?”

  “We’re working with one of those women, she’s giving us intel, shit she learned during her four-day stay in hell with Jethro.”

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah. Now, do you want to tell me who that fucker was who handpicked you to be that sick fuck’s next victim? ’Cause I’d like to have a word with him.”

  “I don’t…he’s um…a friend of a friend. I just…” Her bottom lip quivered. I could see her mind ticking over, trying to decide what to tell me. “I needed the money,” she blurted. “To um…pay you back, get on top of things, you know?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Your friend set you up,” I said.

  She just stood there, head turned, not looking at me, not giving me a damn thing, not saying a damn thing.

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Christ, Willa, what the fuck are you hiding?”

  Finally, she looked at me, expression blank. “Nothing. I’m not hiding anything.” She took a step closer, eating up the distance between us, until her tits pressed against my chest. “I made a mistake.” Her hands slid around my waist, pressing in even closer. “I’m sorry that I put you in that situation, that I put your case at risk. I won’t do anything so stupid again.”

  She looked up at me, beautiful eyes earnest, wide mouth soft and pink, lower lip glistening from her licking it a second ago.

  “Willa…”

  “Do you forgive me?” she said softly, a little rasp to her voice.

  The woman scrambled my brain; I was suddenly having trouble thinking straight with her pressed up against me like that.

  “I’m not done talking about this,” I forced past my tight vocal cords.

  “Oh, me either,” she said, nodding her agreement. “But I thought we might do some kissing first. That ride on your bike…”

  I had to clear my throat. “Yeah?”

  “I liked it.” She smirked. “A lot.”

  That subtle twist of her lips was sexy as hell.

  She jumped suddenly, giving me no choice but to catch her, and wrapped her arms around my neck, her thighs straddling my hips. She pressed her mouth to mine, and gave me a sucking kiss, then flicked my lips with her tongue, making me groan. I felt that flick on the head of my cock.

  “The other night”—another flick of that sweet fucking tongue—“you got me off so good, but you were left hard and wanting. It’s your turn, Jude,” she said, and ground her hips against mine, rubbing herself on my now aching hard-on.

  I squeezed her ass, carrying her to the shadows of the stairs. “Now, you’re trying to distract me.”

  “Is it working?” she said.

  “What do you think?”

  She chuckled against my lips and the sound—the brush of her warm breath, the catch in the back of her throat—was so hot, so fucking sexy, my balls drew up tight. “You’ve got me desperate to fuck you, Willa, no doubt. But I’m not some teenage asshole who can’t keep his shit tight. We aren’t done talking about this.”

  “There’s nothing more to talk about,” she said, thrusting her fingers in my hair, mouth going to my ear, sucking on my earlobe.

  My gut tightened.

  Her tiny as hell dress was up around her hips and I slid my hands under it, against her smooth thighs, gripping her ass more firmly over her panties. Then did what I had the other night, and slid her hot pussy over my hard cock.

  She gasped against my ear.

  “I don’t believe you,” I said, giving her ass another squeeze.

  “Well, that’s too bad,” she said, lifting her head. “I’m not really sure what you want me to say?”

  “The truth,” I said.

  She stared at me, head tilting to the side slightly. “And what makes you think you have the right to get that from me?” Her thumb slid along my jaw, my beard, as she said that. There was no anger in her voice. I didn’t know what this was, but I didn’t like it. “I have things under control. I don’t need you to save me.” She gave me another of those drugging kisses, then lifted her head again. “I want you to fuck me, Jude. It’s been a while for me, and I have a feeling you’d give it to me the way I like it, but other than that, you need to take a step back.”

  My brows lowered. I’d never suffered from such an extreme mix of horny and furious in my life. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I want you to back off. Thanks for tonight, I appreciate what you did. You saved my ass and we both know it. I’ll be more careful from now on, but I told you, I’m not in the market for a white knight. You’re applying for a position that doesn’t exist.” She did another sexy roll of her hips. “So, either fuck me, or get back on your bike and leave.”

  We stared at each other for long seconds, and I knew I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding my shock; I could see it in her eyes. “You’re serious?” I said finally.

  She dipped her stubborn chin. “I wouldn’t say it unless I was.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Willa.”

  Her hands dropped to my shoulders. “That’s your opinion, which means it has nothing to do with me.”

  Christ. “Willa…”

  “Put me down,” she said, voice even, emotionless. “Now.”

  Reluctantly, I did what she asked. “I think you’re afraid of something, of someone…”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, taking a step back, putting more distance between us.

  I cursed, fought to keep calm. “I know what that kind of fear looks like, Willa, I know it better than I ever wanted to. I know what secrets and that kind of terror can do, the wreckage it can cause. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want to see another…” I cleared my throat, swallowing down the words I’d almost said. “You can trust me.”

  She crossed her arms. “I want you to leave.”

  Fuck.

  I didn’t want to go anywhere, but what else could I do? You could pick her up, carry her to her bed, and work that tight little body until she begs you to make her come, bounce her on your cock until she spills all her secrets. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. I took a step toward her and her eyes widened, her throat working.

  “Jude?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m choosing option one.” I’d lost my mind, but there was no way in hell I was walking away—from whatever trouble she was in, from her—not yet.

  “Option one?”

  “You said I should either fuck you, or leave. I choose fucking.”

  Her eyes widened, tongue darting out to moisten her lips.
r />   “Come here,” I said, desperately trying to hang on to my control.

  She took an unsteady step toward me…

  “Willa, that you out there?”

  We both turned at the sound of Fay’s voice, her words cutting through the night, through the crackling tension.

  Fay stood on her porch, Tilly at her side.

  I turned back to Willa and made sure she saw the truth in my eyes.

  This wasn’t over.

  10

  Willa

  “Raul’s really running with the pink thing, huh?” Fay said from behind her sewing machine.

  “Oh yeah.” I did up my shorts and yanked on my t-shirt. “He most definitely is,” I said, and I knew my lack of enthusiasm for my new name, my “brand,” was showing on my face. Raul was even paying the cost to keep my hair pink. I handed her back the dress she’d made me, so she could add her finishing touches.

  Fay took it from me and chuckled. “He tells me you’re doing great, that you’re becoming a bit of an attraction.”

  Plonking down in the seat beside her, I stole the last oatmeal raisin cookie and took a bite. “I couldn’t tell you why. My dancing still sucks.” I slumped back. “Whatever, I’m making good money. If guys want to see me gyrate awkwardly around a stage and throw money at me, who am I to argue?”

  One good thing had happened recently, though. I’d mentioned to Steph that I could do hair. She’d asked me to cut hers, and loved it. Now several of the other girls wanted me to do theirs as well.

  A soft smile curled her lips. “You’re too hard on yourself. Raul says your dancing is good. Maybe not as good as some, but he thinks you’ve got something, something unique, something special. A presence on stage that has them coming back for more.”

  I stared at her in shock. “Raul said that?”

  She shrugged. “We talk.”

  I studied her while I nibbled my cookie. Fay may be in her early sixties, but she was hot. Today, she had her long, thick wavy hair down, a little pulled back at the top. There was a touch of makeup to enhance her fine features, and she was wearing a long flowing white hippie-style skirt and a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and was knotted at her hip. Fay looked stunning, and she was also the coolest person I knew. She was total rock and roll. Foul-mouthed, and could make me laugh so hard I was close to peeing my pants. But there was something fragile about her that I’d recognized the moment we met. Pain. The kind of pain that marked you, that altered you.

  It made me sad that she’d had that in her life. Fay was vibrant, vivacious, one of the most generous women I knew, and she deserved to be happy. I wanted her to be happy.

  “You and Raul…are you…” Her head lifted, her eyes sharpening. “More than friends?”

  She stood so fast, her chair scraped against the kitchen floor in way I was sure would leave gouges.

  Shit. I’d offended her. “Fay…I never meant…”

  “Raul’s my brother-in-law,” she said tightly. “So if you mean family? Then yes, of course we’re more than friends. I was married to his brother. A man that I loved dearly. That you would even think…I’d never betray Mateo like that. Never.” Then she turned her back on me and started moving things around her kitchen counter.

  The last thing in the world I’d want to do was upset her. Fay had been there for me since I moved next door, she was the only person I could totally rely on, the only person I trusted with Tilly. She’d become my best friend. “I never meant to imply…I made assumptions.” I stood and moved to the counter, leaning against it. “I’m so sorry, Fay.”

  She brushed a loose strand of black and silver hair back from her face. “No.” She shook her head. “I…I overreacted. I’m sorry, let’s just…”

  The rumbling growl of an engine came from outside, an engine I knew well.

  We both headed to the living room and watched as Jude shut the bike off. He was wearing black boots, worn jeans that hugged his ass, a black t-shirt that clung to his chest, and his leather jacket. His hair was windblown, like I imagined it looked in the morning. He looked hot. Better than any man had a right to.

  He swung his leg over the seat, slid off his shades, and looked up, his gaze moving over my place.

  Shit.

  “Looks like you have a visitor,” Fay said, smirking.

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. I hadn’t seen him in four days. Not since we were interrupted by Fay and Tilly. After we’d nearly…I’d nearly let him…

  I watched as he removed a large duffle strapped to the back of his bike, bypass the steps to my place, and head for the apartment below mine.

  “What in the hell?”

  He unlocked the door and walked inside.

  “You better go see what’s going on,” Fay said, bumping her hip against mine.

  “I don’t want to,” I muttered.

  She snorted. “Uh-huh.”

  “Fay,” I warned.

  She chuckled. “Well, you have to go. I’m meeting Jennifer for dinner.”

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  “I sure am.”

  He appeared again and started up the stairs to my place. Crap. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to see him because when I did either of those things, I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that with him, and that was out of the question, right?

  No men.

  I’d promised Rebecca.

  I growled under my breath when he banged on my door for a second time. I needed to get this over and done with. He’d only come back if I didn’t go over there and see what he wanted. I said goodbye to Fay and headed home.

  He turned at the sound of Fay’s front door opening and closing, huge fist poised, ready to knock a third time. He watched me walk toward him, his eyes locked on mine, before dropping, going all the way to the sparkly blue flip-flops I was wearing and back up.

  I heated, every part of me, and I despised my lack of control. I was stronger than that. Jude was just a man, like any other. Sure, he was capable of climbing out of a second-story windows while holding small children, but despite the evidence to the contrary, he was still just a guy.

  He was just a man, like any other.

  Trusting him with any part of me was a stupid idea. I could admit that he appeared to be a decent human being. But come on, no one was that nice without having an ulterior motive. People didn’t do nice shit for nothing, even if it was just for the accolades.

  No one was that…good.

  Who are you trying to convince?

  I ignored the internal argument I was having with myself and focused on fighting my body’s intense reaction to just the sight of him. “What are you doing here?” I said, a little sharper than I’d intended.

  He turned, crossed his arms, brows lowering. “Jesus, yeah, nice to see you too, babe,” he muttered.

  I was being a bitch and that pissed me off. Which usually meant I felt threatened. I was self-aware enough to know this about myself. I’d been doing it all my life. So, I forcibly dialed it back. Jude had saved my ass the other night, and as much as I wanted to think he’d done it for some nefarious reason, I knew he hadn’t. I was wrong. He’d looked out for me, and he didn’t deserve a dose of my attitude, no matter how pissed off I was at my current situation.

  Now I was closer, I could the tightness of his jaw, the wariness lining his face. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, a couple of something’s, actually. First, the meeting with Jethro fell through, the fucker backed out and backed off for some reason. We can only assume our covers were somehow blown. And second, my place flooded. The apartment upstairs burst a pipe, and most of my shit is fucked beyond repair.”

  He stared down at me, waiting for my response.

  His frustration was palpable, and he looked…tired. I didn’t know what to say. I had the strong and highly disturbing urge to comfort him, to tug him closer and, shit…hug him. I spun away, unable to look into his eyes a moment longer, and unlocke
d the door. “That sucks,” I said, which I knew was completely inadequate, but all I could manage with the way my throat was tightening, with the way unwanted emotions for him were bombarding me.

  He followed me down to the kitchen. “Tilly’s at school?” he asked when I turned to face him again.

  Yeah, he looked tired, but damn, he also looked really, really good. “Yep.”

  He dipped his chin, and his jaw worked again as he looked at me, gaze darkening, heating. “Right. So, we’re all on our own then?”

  I broke eye contact and walked to the fridge. “Drink?”

  There was a charged silence for several seconds, then, “I’m fine.”

  I grabbed a Coke, even though I wasn’t thirsty, and poured it into a glass, something I never did, but right then, I couldn’t take the tension, the…whatever that was between us, crackling and sparking whenever our eyes met.

  “Willa?” he said, a question in his voice, a question I did not want to answer.

  “What?” I carried on avoiding that stare, avoided him, and started putting away the groceries I’d gotten earlier. He wanted me. And God help me, I wanted him too, but the way I wanted him right then, it terrified the hell out of me.

  If we talked about it, if we tried to put it into words, I’d cave, and I’d never be able to stop this thing burning between us. This thing that felt so damn big. Too big.

  I’d let it engulf me.

  I’d burn to ash.

  Another deafening, heavy silence.

  “So what did you want?” I asked, breaking the quiet tension. I glanced over at him when he didn’t answer right away. He was watching me, something I couldn’t name, something I couldn’t bear to see, staring back at me. “Look I’m kinda busy,” I choked out. “Whatever this is about will have to wait.”

  My pulse was racing, thumping so hard I felt out of breath. I wanted to go to him, I wanted to run the other way. I was so confused my stomach was in knots.

  His hands went to his hips. “All right, sweetheart,” he finally said, low and gritty. “I see how it is.”

  I froze, then shoved a packet of pasta in the cupboard as his words sunk in. “Hmm?” I said, when I knew exactly what he meant. I’d had a change of heart. What I’d offered was now off the table.

 

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