by Bryony Kayn
Jake ignored the look Steve shot her. He wouldn’t dance with her; he never danced with anyone. But Angel always seemed to enjoy dancing with her, even if he wasn’t as skilled as Nikky.
By the time they reached the dance floor, the band had finished the current song and moved on to something slower. Angel didn’t hesitate to draw her close to him, feet moving to the measured beat of the ballad.
Jake put her arms around Angel’s neck, stepping close as they began to dance. She waited for him to put his hands low on her back, but he kept them at her waist and mid-back, and she was grateful for it. She looked up to meet his clear, green eyes, thinking again, as she had many times before, that he had truly beautiful eyes.
“I really do like the dress,” he said, moving his hands a little up and down her back, stroking the soft fabric.
“I can tell,” she replied with an unrepentant grin. “I do like it when you look at me like that, Angel-mine. It makes me feel beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek affectionately. “The most beautiful woman in the room.”
Her smile softened. Corny maybe, but she could tell he was sincere. “You’re such a sweetheart,” she commented and forced herself not to flinch when his hands moved below her waist.
“So, how are things going between you and Steve?” he asked, oblivious to the discomfort he was causing her.
“Great,” she said, hoping that the volume of the music would hide the strain in her voice. “Although I think I pissed him off. He wants to move my shit into his house, and I told him no.”
“He told me earlier that you’re still in love with him,” Angel said, more statement than question.
She sighed as his hands moved higher, away from the tender area below her waist.
“I understand why he wants you to move in,” he went on. “But if you still love him, why did you say no?”
She met his eyes, considering for a moment before answering. “I do love him, even if I’m the world’s biggest idiot for saying so. But I don’t want to rush into anything. We moved too fast last time and caused all kinds of havoc and pain, not just for us but for everyone. I want to be sure before I make any earth-shattering decisions.”
“Have you been fighting again?” Angel asked, touching her cheek gently. “I saw the scratches on his back. He was all but bragging about them at the studio. But you don’t usually get so carried away—at least, you didn’t used to.”
Jake laughed a little bitterly, giving him a sanitized version of what had happened. “We had an argument, yeah. Like I said, he wants me to move in and I’m not ready to. He busted a couple of glasses and stalked out of the room like an indignant four-year-old. But I finally made myself clear, even if he didn’t like it.”
“He didn’t hit you, did he?” Angel asked softly, his hand still against her cheek.
“No,” she said, able to be honest about that much.
“Maybe he’s finally starting to grow up a little,” Angel commented, stroking her hair away from her face.
“Maybe,” she said noncommittally. When the song came to an end, she walked with him back to the table, wanting to have a cigarette before her break was over. “I’m gonna go out back,” she said, her comment directed to Steve.
“I’ll come,” he said, getting up as Angel resumed his seat. He took her proffered hand and followed her through the crowd toward the hallway that led to the back service entrance.
Once outside, Jake pulled out a cigarette and waited while Steve lit it for her. She took a long drag, exhaling a stream of smoke as she crossed to where the Lexus was parked. She leaned against the front fender, crossing her ankles, and looked at Steve.
“How are you doing?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice as he came to stand in front of her. He put his feet on either side of hers so he could be close enough to lightly rest his hands on her hips.
“Not as bad as I was afraid,” she said, putting her free hand on his chest. “Should be better in a couple of days, probably.”
He moved his hands up and down her hips slowly, stroking the soft material, and smiled. “You don’t have any panties on.”
She chuckled at the sudden interest in his voice. “No, I don’t,” she agreed.
He stepped back, pulling her away from the car and then reached behind her, holding her ass with both hands, below where the damage had been done. He dropped his head to kiss her, his tongue licking her lips, and she opened her mouth to him, moaning softly in the back of her throat as he slowly gathered her skirt up. He never touched the abraded area, but clutched her bare buttocks as he pulled her against him. “You look so sexy in that dress,” he growled, moving his mouth to her throat. “I could take you right here.”
“Ah,” she sighed, reveling in the feel of his hands on her bare skin and the hard-muscled chest and stomach that she leaned securely against.
When he took her cigarette from her, she made no protest. He took a drag then flipped the butt away. He pulled her skirt back down into place, then with his hands at her waist, lifted her up onto the Lexus. He pushed her knees apart, standing between her thighs, and began kissing her again. One hand supported her back; the other cupped her breast through the thin cloth of the dress.
“Steve,” she breathed, her lips brushing his earlobe. Her hands moved to the waist of his jeans, searching for the fastening. Generally she liked her sex rough, but sometimes, like now, his very tenderness was all it took to make her heart pound and all self-control fade away.
When she got his pants undone, she reached inside, taking him in her hand firmly. It thrilled her that he was so ready for her, even after everything. He grabbed her ass, sliding her toward him on the car’s fender, and she lifted her legs as she guided him into her. Then her ankles locked behind him, her hands braced on the hood of the car to keep her from sliding back on the slick metal.
He moved, slowly at first, his hands low on her hips to hold her steady. As the pleasure grew, he increased his pace. Jake let her head fall back, eyes closed as she concentrated on the feel of him. Her nipples were hard against the thin material of her dress, the cool metal of the Lexus moving beneath her even as Steve tried to hold her steady. The sound of his breathing, harsh and panting, along with the intensity of his grip on her gave away that he was close to nearing his peak. He cupped one breast, pinching the taut nipple, and she cried out in pleasure. She moved her pelvis to match him, her stomach muscles tightening as her own climax approached. When she came, she locked one arm around his neck, holding herself against him as tight as she could. Her mouth met his, and his arms went around her as he came. They were still, then, for a long minute, both panting for breath, arms around each other, Jake’s legs shaking with her ankles still locked behind him.
“I do love you, Jae,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
“I know, baby,” she said softly, running her fingers through his tangled curls. “I know you do. I love you back.” Reluctantly, she uncrossed her ankles and dropped her legs, letting him leave her. He refastened his jeans and lifted her gently down to the ground. His eyes were shadowed, hidden by the security light at the service entrance behind him, but his hands were gentle as he smoothed her hair back from her face.
“We’re going to make this work,” he said, his voice still low. “I know we’ve had our problems, Jae. Our history is pretty fucked up. But this is going to work out. We’re meant to be together, and that’s all I want.”
She smiled, just a little curve to her lips, and took his hand after making sure her dress was in place. “I hope so, babe. That’s what I want, too.” She stretched up to kiss him one more time, then led him back toward the service entrance. She had just enough time to stop in the ladies room and freshen up before she had to get back to work.
Chapter 5
Jake crawled out of bed, almost literally, in an effort not to wake Steve. Her lower back burned, the abrasions still quite tender. She walked gingerly to her bathroom and
forced herself to take a quick shower. The warm water stung the shallow scratches, but it felt good to be clean.
Last night, Steve had followed her back to Angel’s house after the Neon closed and applied more antiseptic cream to her back. That, of course, had led to a gentle massage and then, before long, to erotic caressing. She really hadn’t minded. Steve’s touch, as usual, quickly aroused her to the point where she could ignore her discomfort. She had made a point of pleasing him with hands and mouth to bring him quickly to climax. She was tired enough and sore enough that she didn’t want to endure marathon sex.
Now, after carefully drying herself and dragging a comb through her damp hair, she stepped into her closet to find something to wear. She’d bought more than just the slate-colored dress, knowing she’d need enough loose-fitting, comfortable clothes for at least the next few days. She finally decided on a pair of soft white shorts with a high waist and a black halter top. She found a pair of low-rise panties and pulled them on, being sure the lace band at the top wouldn’t rub the more sensitive skin. Once dressed, she quietly left the bedroom, leaving Steve to sleep.
In the kitchen, as was her usual routine, she started a pot of coffee and then scrounged through the fridge for something to eat. Nothing looked particularly appetizing, but she tried to eat something in the morning, mostly because otherwise she would largely subside on one meal a day. At last, she pulled an orange out of the produce drawer and peeled it, dropping the bright peels in the trash.
When Angel came out of the broad hallway that led to the master bedroom, he found Jake perched on a barstool, drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette while she finished the last of her orange. “Morning,” he said, leaning over to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder, then went around the end of the counter into the kitchen to fix himself a cup from the still half-full pot of coffee.
“Morning,” she replied, popping the last section of fruit into her mouth.
“Have a good night?” he asked, adding cream to his coffee.
She shrugged, ashing her cigarette. “The usual,” she replied shortly and laughed at the look he gave her. “How about you?”
“Not as good as Steve had, I’m sure,” he returned, stirring his coffee before setting the spoon aside.
“He may tell you I make all his fantasies come true, but don’t buy it,” Jake said softly. “Sometimes he just wants to make you jealous.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her mouth quirked into a crooked little smile. “Because it’s true.”
“Well, sometimes he does,” Angel finally admitted, bending to lean his elbows on the counter across from her so he could meet her gaze. “Are you surprised?”
“You know me well enough to know you could do better,” Jake commented, putting the cigarette to her lips. “I’m nothing special.”
“I know quite a few people who would argue the point,” he contradicted. “I’m one of them.”
Jake blew out a stream of smoke and dropped her eyes from his as she stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. “You make me out to be something I’m not, Angel-mine. I’m just gutter trash who lucked into making you my friend.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Angel said sharply, his brows drawn together with something like worry. “You’re not trash, and you never have been.” He stood straight again, looking down at her thoughtfully. “What’s going on?”
She shrugged, sighing, and took a sip of her coffee. “Sorry, babe. Just brooding too much, I guess. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.”
Angel left his cup where it was and walked around the counter to her. He put his hand on the back of the barstool and turned her to face him. Then he lifted her chin with his other hand so she couldn’t avoid his gaze. “What’s up?”
She forced a smile, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Not enough sleep and too much booze.”
“I don’t buy that,” he said, sliding his hand down her shoulder to the fading bruises on her bicep. “He’s been hurting you, hasn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.
“There’s hurting, and then there’s hurting,” she quipped lightly, wishing she hadn’t let her ennui show. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“I don’t believe you,” he replied softly. “What has he been doing to you?”
She shook her head, slipping off the barstool and pulling away from him. Before she’d gone two steps, he caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him. At the sudden pressure on her lower back, she gasped, trying to free herself. “Angel, let me go,” she said sharply, surprising him into doing just that.
“What did he do to you?” he asked, still gripping her elbow so she couldn’t just walk away. “Let me see.”
“It’s not what you think.” The thing was, she was pretty sure it was exactly what he thought, but she didn’t know how to get out of this now that Angel was aware there was something wrong. “It was an accident.”
“Let me see,” he repeated.
She sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. Then, without any more protest, she pulled her arm from his grasp and cautiously pushed the waistband of her shorts down.
Angel clenched his jaw when the scrapes that marred her lower back were revealed. “What did he do to you? And why didn’t you tell me?”
Jake pulled her shorts back up into place, hiding the abrasions, and turned to face him. “If you want to know the truth, he lifted me up against the wall in his bedroom to fuck me, and apparently forgot about the texturizing. Between the ride up and the ride down and all the riding in between, my back became hamburger.” She was purposely crude, wanting to shock Angel, but it didn’t work. “It wasn’t intentional, babe. That’s why I didn’t say anything about it.”
“If it was an accident, you shouldn’t have had to hide it,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders gently. “If he didn’t mean to hurt you, then you shouldn’t have to cover for him.”
“I’m not—” she started, but he cut her off.
“I’ve heard these excuses before, little girl. Why are you still defending him? You’re bruised and bloody, just like a hundred times before, and still trying to convince me it’s no big deal!” His voice grew louder as he went on, and she stepped forward, reaching up to cup his face. She didn’t want Steve to hear any of this.
“Hush, Angel-mine,” she whispered, the softness of her voice stilling him. “Don’t get angry, sweetheart. It was just a stupid mistake, and he feels like shit about it. It’s just because of our past history that I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want people to think that we’re going back to the way things were before, because we’re not.”
“Are you so sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he put his arms around her, keeping his hands above her waist. “I’m scared for you, Jake, more than I can even say. I don’t want him to hurt you anymore, and I don’t want you to leave again. I couldn’t stand it if you left again.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated, meaning it implicitly.
“I missed you so much while you were gone,” he went on in that same low voice. “All I wanted was to have found a way to stop you before you left. To keep you with me. To keep you safe.”
She gazed up into his eyes, hearing what he wasn’t saying, and felt her heart begin to pound.
“I would take his fucking head off if I thought you’d ever forgive me,” Angel went on, the intensity in his voice convincing her that he was completely serious. “I would do anything for you, little girl.” He leaned down, touching his lips to hers, his heart and soul in that simple kiss. She could do nothing less than respond, she was so moved by his obvious emotion.
The kiss deepened, each of them drawn to the other like magnets. Hearts beat in unison, and Jake’s mind whirled, unable to come up with a coherent thought while Angel cradled her against him, all his long suppressed feelings expressed clearly in the gentle way he held her, his mouth open on hers. She trembled, letting him support her weight, knowing she would be safe with him. Angel wou
ld never, never hurt her. It wasn’t in his nature. He was her best friend, the one person she had always been able to count on. The one person she couldn’t stand to lose.
“Jake?”
They both froze, and then Jake pulled back a little, her breath coming in a pant. “What?” she called over her shoulder, her arms still around Angel’s neck.
“Where are you?” Steve asked, his voice coming from her bedroom.
She leaned her forehead against Angel’s chest, her hands sliding over his chest and down to his waist. “In the kitchen,” she called back. She took a deep breath and stepped back away from Angel. Her hands still rested on his waist, and she made no move to completely break contact with him. “I’m sorry, Angel-mine.”
He shook his head, reaching to smooth a strand of loose hair away from her face. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
She gave one soft, short laugh and reached up to take his hand. “Yes, I do. I care about you, sweetheart. You’re my best friend in all the world, my truest friend. And to repay you, I play games with you.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“This doesn’t change anything, babe,” she said, still in that soft voice. “I still love Steve, even if I don’t know why.” She put her free hand on his chest, above the place where his heart beat. “If I thought getting you off would help, I’d drop to my knees for you right now. But I think it would only make things worse.”
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, looking as though she’d just punched him. “I care about you, Jake. More than you know,” he said, seeming to forcing the words out.
“I know how much you care, sweetheart,” she whispered, stepping forward again to put her arms around him, her face against his broad chest. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not you. I could probably skin Steve and fillet him and never shed a tear over it. But I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve always only been good to me. You deserve better.”
He slipped his arms around her, resting his chin against the top of her head as he held her. That was how Steve found them when he emerged from the long hallway leading to Jake’s room.