Jericho's Revenge

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by S. K. Yule


  “Now what?”

  The wicked grin he gave her made her think of all sorts of things she could do to him to wipe that smirk off his face. She licked her lips slowly in blatant invitation, and the grin slid from his face. “Now this.”

  She reached for the zipper on his jeans and slowly slid it down. Before she pulled the material over his long, muscular legs and off each foot, she untied his boots and removed them along with his socks. She gasped when his erection sprang upright. She had no idea how all of him had fit in her. She was about to find out again, though.

  She wrapped one hand around his cock and bent to slowly lick the small bead of desire off the tip. He groaned, and that was all the encouragement she needed as she took him into her mouth. She sucked him deep and hard while she stroked from base to tip and back with her hand in a firm but gentle sliding motion. His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her to him as he arched his hips, demanding she take him even deeper. She loved the feel and taste of him in her mouth, all male and spice. She moaned as her throat muscles resisted then softened, allowing him to slide down.

  He pulled her hair hard, telling her in no uncertain terms that it was time for her to stop, but she refused. She sucked and licked him relentlessly, wringing low growls from his throat. He tried to pull her off him once again, but she resisted and continued her assault. He finally gave in and pumped into her sweet mouth faster and faster. She never realized that pleasuring a man with her mouth could make her feel so hot, so in control.

  “Sabrina, stop. I’m going to come.” A strangled, low groan slid from Jericho’s throat.

  She was beyond excited and refused to stop sucking on him even when he made it clear he was close to coming. She wanted him to finish buried deep in her mouth with her lips around him. She got her wish when seconds later he arched and gave a guttural cry right before his hot seed shot down her throat. He tasted wild, sinful, salty. He tasted like Jericho. She looked up at him to find him staring at her with glittering eyes and licked her lips before crawling up him, moving toward his mouth. He had the best lips: full and kissably soft. But before she could reach her destination, she was tossed on her back and Jericho towered over her.

  The squeal she let out when he tossed her off him encouraged the predator in him, she knew. Her back hit the mattress, and he held her down with one big hand on her belly while he pushed the other through the soft curls on her mound. His fingers glided smoothly through the dampness of her desire. She struggled, and he shot her a look that froze her attempts. He stared into her eyes, gave her a wicked smile, and licked her from one end of her pretty, pink, slick slit to the other, ending at her center, where the little nub of nerve endings that gave her so much pleasure lay nestled. Her eyes widened, and he repeated her earlier action by licking his lips slowly, as if savoring every drop of her.

  “God, you taste good.” He put his index finger and ring finger on opposite sides of her opening and spread her wide, exposing all of her to his black gaze. He gasped. “You’re beautiful. I could look at you all night.” He slowly pushed his middle finger into her, and when her hips rolled up and off the bed, he placed his mouth on her center and sucked gently while rolling his tongue around her clit until she thought she would die. She grasped the sheets in each hand and tossed her head back and forth while he coaxed little cries and gasps from her with his sinful tongue.

  He ate at her while he stroked her with his finger. Just when she thought she could take no more, he released his hold on her belly. She thought he’d come to her now and slide his wonderful hardness inside her. Instead, he pulled her thighs over his shoulders and replaced his finger with his tongue, pushing it deep into her. She cried out and arched into him. She came undone with the next stroke of his tongue. Her muscles convulsed, sending warm honey through her veins with each spasm. When the waves lulled to tiny currents, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and finally seated his cock in her wetness. He pumped into her until they both came again, together this time, and then collapsed beside her.

  As she drifted to sleep snuggled against his side, a sense of calm drifted through her. It was more than that, though. A sense of rightness, of belonging maybe. She wasn’t exactly sure what term could properly describe—or if one even existed to describe—what she was feeling.

  Chapter Three

  What the hell was he going to do? Sabrina was still chained in his basement, and he still wasn’t sure after all this time if Sabrina had anything to do with Jade’s murder. And he still ached for the little witch. If it turned out that Sabrina had had something to do with Jade’s murder, then he would have no choice but finish her, no matter what his desires for her were. He was a man of his word, and he had vowed to terminate the life of the one who had taken Jade’s. His heart raged at him for even thinking of killing Sabrina. He clenched his fists. He had to find out once and for all what had happened that night.

  He checked on Sabrina and left a small mug of blood on the table next to her soft, sleeping form. She was still weak, and the blood would not be enough to replenish her strength completely. He couldn’t allow her freedom until he figured this mess out. He watched her for a moment, loving the curve of her face and smooth, creamy skin with his eyes. Enough! He turned and headed for the door. He was going to visit his buddy Rick Boston at a club. Rick had an uncanny knack for ferreting out information. And now, after all these years, Jericho was in doubt of Sabrina’s guilt. His mind had been so pinpointed on revenge, he’d never thought there could be more to Jade’s murder. If anyone could find out, Rick could.

  He had to put this matter to rest before things got any deeper. Sabrina was awakening emotions in him he thought long dead and long forgotten. He wanted to claim her, his heart wanted to possess her, and his soul wailed a song of longing while his brain—the obviously only sane part left of him—screamed for him to be logical, to think with his head and not his dick. He took a deep, steady breath. He would not allow his emotions to cloud his judgment or to deny him vengeance if Sabrina did prove guilty.

  * * * *

  Rick Boston sat at Rizzo’s, his favorite hangout for the past . . . oh, hell, who was he kidding. He didn’t even remember for the past how many years. All he knew was it was a lot, and it had gone through several names since when he first started visiting. He’d just gotten the attention of the blonde with big blue eyes and even bigger boobs sitting at the end of the bar. They had begun an interesting game of flirtation when the front door banged open and Jericho Tavi strolled in. The deep lines set between his old friend’s eyes practically shouted, “I’m in a pissy mood, so don’t mess with me.” Jericho jerked the stool out next to him and sat down.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t Jericho Tavi himself.” Rick was glad Jericho was his friend and had his back if needed because the man was deadly. He’d never be stupid enough to cross him. He’d known many who did. Many who wished they hadn’t. Jericho had a silent lethalness about him that either did two things to a man: inspired respect and awe or inspired idiocy and the urge to fight. The latter were the ones that got in too deep, too fast, and were too late in realizing that there was no chance of winning.

  “Yeah, yeah. What’s up, Rick? Anything new?” Jericho spotted the blonde with the huge tits at the end of the bar staring at Rick and the corner of his mouth turned up, almost suggesting a grin. “Little young, isn’t she?”

  Rick laughed and flashed the blonde a big smile, followed by a wink. She lowered her eyes, but not before Rick caught the amused interest that sparked in the baby blues. “Nah, never too young. Well, unless they are jailbait. I don’t go for that. But as long as they are eighteen, they are fair game as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, if you want to get technical, aren’t they all a little young for us?”

  Jericho shook his head in a slow, lazy motion. “You never change, do you?” Rick grinned. He liked his notorious-with-the-ladies status. He wasn’t an idiot, though, and knew his looks went a long way to getting him as much pussy as a man could want. Jericho
was about five inches taller than he was, which still put him right at six feet—hell, most men weren’t close to Jericho’s size. Rick also had a muscular frame, dark brown hair, and golden eyes that women had a hard time resisting. He wouldn’t necessarily call himself vain, but he knew he was easy on the eyes and didn’t mind in the least using it to his advantage.

  “Why change? I have way too much fun.” Rick knew Jericho would probably get more women than even he could if it weren’t for those damned black eyes of his. They made the son of a bitch look evil.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. Look, I need a favor.”

  “You? Well, well, well. The great Jericho Tavi needs help from little ol’ me.” Rick sighed and sipped his brewsky when Jericho’s shoulders tensed. If there was one thing he knew about Jericho, it was that he didn’t like asking anybody for anything.

  “Don’t start, Rick. You’re the best bloodhound I know on two feet, and I need some information fast.”

  Jericho snapped those hell-riddled black eyes around and leveled them on him. Rick held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry. What are you looking for?” Holy shit! He sure would like to know what had Jericho’s panties in such a bunch. Then a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The only thing he knew that could rile a man, even a solid son of a bitch like Jericho, was a woman.

  He took a deep breath. “I need to find out if anyone knows the circumstances of Jade’s murder.”

  Rick sucked in a surprised breath. Even though Jade’s death was no secret, no one dared utter a single word about it in front of Jericho. Jericho never talked about Jade and obviously didn’t want to now since he was clinching his fists so tight his knuckles were turning white. “I thought Sabrina Johnson did it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “But—”

  “Look, do you think you can find out anything or not?”

  “I’ll try. Give me a couple nights, and meet me back here.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.” Jericho swung off the stool and headed for the door.

  “Whoa! Wait a minute. Why don’t you have a drink before you go, catch up on old times.”

  “Sorry, not in the mood.”

  “Yeah. I figured as much. Look, Jericho, I’ll find out what I can, okay, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “I know. You’ve always done right by me. Thanks, Rick.” Jericho slapped Rick on the back in typical manly fashion, except the slap seemed a little harder than necessary.

  Rick watched Jericho leave. His friend had definitely gotten himself into something. And his bet was that it was Sabrina Johnson. He knew that look. A man always had a certain smug, pleased look when he had banged a chick who had made his eyes cross. He only hoped he would feel that way later with the blonde. He smiled and turned his attention back to the little tasty bit still sitting at the end of the bar. Speaking of getting into things. He raised his glass to her, and when she smiled at him, he knew the deal was sealed.

  * * * *

  Her head felt like it was going to explode when she awoke. Even though Night Wanderers were able to heal quickly, lack of blood slowed the process down to near-human speed. And, unfortunately, she was missing a couple pints and this headache wasn’t going away any time soon. The familiar, tangy scent of blood wafted through the air enticingly. She slowly sat up and found another mug of blood on the nightstand and gulped it down. The blood was enough to sustain her, barely, and she knew Jericho was aware of exactly how much she needed without returning her to full strength.

  She hated being so helpless, so weak. And she hated feeling the warm glow of desire deep inside at the mere thought of the man who was doing this to her. She dozed back asleep moments after drinking it and woke what could have been hours or minutes later to Jericho’s obsidian eyes watching her as he sat in the chair across the room.

  “Jericho, what are you doing?” Her voice sounded raspy, and her throat felt raw.

  “Sabrina, I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them yes or no. No bullshit, no explanations, just yes or no. Got it?”

  She was getting tired of being treated like a freaking piece of crap when she hadn’t done anything to deserve the punishment. “Fine.”

  “Did you kill Jade?”

  “Jericho—”

  “Yes or no!” Jericho sat forward, gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

  She sighed. Fine, she wanted this over with anyway. “No.”

  His fingers relaxed their hold on the chair arm, and he leaned back once again, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Were you involved in any way with the person or persons who killed Jade?”

  “No.” Damn, the man was gorgeous. Gorgeous in a bad boy sort of way. You knew you were going to get burned by him, but you also knew the ride, the excitement, and walking on the edge would be worth going down in flames.

  “Did you know Jade was going to be killed?”

  “No.” How many times was she going to have to tell him that she didn’t have anything to do with her murder before he actually believed her? Would he ever believe her to be innocent?

  “Do you know who killed Jade?”

  “No.”

  “So, you are telling me that you have no idea who killed Jade or why she was killed and that you were not involved in any way?”

  “No.” He was on her in a blur of speed, pinning her to the bed, one large hand wrapped around her neck.

  “What do you mean ‘no’?” Red sparked deep in his onyx eyes, and his breath quickened.

  “I meant I have an idea why she was killed but no I wasn’t involved in any way.” His hold relaxed, and she gasped.

  “Tell me.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I tried to tell you before, and you didn’t want to hear it. Excuse me if I don’t want abused anymore because of something I had nothing to do with.” She watched guilt fill his eyes. She didn’t even know Jericho Tavi was capable of feeling it.

  He got off her, sat on the side of the bed, and rested his elbows on his thighs. “I’m sorry. Now, please tell me.”

  She sighed once again. Fine, if he wanted to hear about his precious Jade, then so be it. “I’ll tell you, Jericho. But if you touch me once while I’m telling you, I swear I will never utter another word about it.” She waited until he nodded before she continued. “Jade was a notorious man-chaser. She had a knack for making just about every man in existence do anything she wanted. She was a liar and even a murderer. She had affairs with many married men and didn’t care about their wives. In fact, I think she enjoyed tormenting others. She got a real kick out of it.” She watched the muscle tick in his jaw, betraying his agitation.

  “How could you possibly know all of this about Jade?”

  “Because she was my half-sister.”

  Jericho’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “What?”

  “Yeah. That’s how I know so much about her and why I didn’t associate with her. I couldn’t take her nastiness anymore, and we had stayed away from one another pretty much for fifty years before you met her. And wasn’t it just lousy luck on my part that I felt guilty about not talking to my half-sister for so long and showed up seconds after she was murdered? The story of my life—I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time. ”

  “How come you never told me this before?” Jericho pushed his fingers through his hair.

  “I tried to tell you once, but you wouldn’t listen. The rest of the time, I’ve been trying to stay the hell away from you because you wanted to wring my neck.” Sabrina thought she might finally be getting through to him. That he might actually realize she was innocent. She sat up, gently placed her hands on his shoulders, and started kneading his stiff muscles. He put his head in his hands and did something she never thought she’d see Jericho Tavi do.

  Cry.

  He didn’t bawl or whine or sniffle like a child. In fact, if she weren’t paying really close attention, she probably would have never realized
what he was doing. She leaned to the side and witnessed the only betraying sign of his anguish. A tear rolled out of the corner of his eye and over his hand. That was it. No other sound, no other tears. He was a man who didn’t allow his emotions to control him. He allowed himself that one tear and no more.

  The sight was awing to her. She knew that most men thought it was not macho to cry. She, on the other hand, wasn’t so naïve. She knew it took a strong, secure, confident man to express such emotion. She had a feeling, though, that she was witnessing something as rare as the Hope Diamond. She actually felt honored in an odd sort of way. After she thought about it, she didn’t even know if what she’d witnessed would actually be considered crying. One tear, nothing more. Was that crying?

  Whatever it had been, she couldn’t take it any longer. Her heart ached. She scooted off the bed, stood in front of him, and cupped his head, pulling his face up to kiss him. The kiss started out gentle but turned urgent, demanding, and possessive. She parted her robe, and he stroked down each side of her bared body, loving her curves. Before he continued, he stood and dug a key out of his pocket and finally unlocked the chains holding her prisoner. He watched her intently, lids half closed, not moving a muscle after the chains hit the floor. She knew he was wondering if she’d run, but she stood, proudly, and waited for him.

 

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