The Jack & Jill Series

by Ann, Jewel E

  “You were … you still are.” Jillian tipped her chin up in defiance.

  A sense of foreboding hung in the air as he squinted at her a split second before yanking her arm toward his garage door. He typed in a code and pulled her inside before pausing the door to send it back down. Jillian covered his hand that was clenched around her arm. As her heart began to race her fingernails began to breach the first few layers of his skin. Her eyes locked to his.

  AJ clenched his teeth, his breath heavy, his intent clear. “Do it.”

  The rest of Jillian’s body relaxed as just her hand curled with strength and complete control, drawing blood. AJ closed his eyes, opening them again when she relaxed her grip. They both stared at the micro pools of blood clotting at the surface. He grabbed the back of her head. Their lips collided with anger and raw need. Jillian ripped open his shirt, sending buttons scattering in every direction. She moaned, clawed, and ignited from his touch.

  AJ grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back as he pushed his erection against her. Breathless, he broke from her angry kiss and rubbed his rough face against her cheek until his lips brushed her ear. “What do you need?” he whispered.

  Short, quick puffs of breath escaped her parted lips as she wriggled her hands free from his. She pushed down on his shoulders. AJ lowered to his knees in front of her. Jillian fisted the material of her skirt over and over until it was gathered near her waist.

  He looked up. She looked down. Their breaths were the only sound mingling with the sticky summer air. The tension in the garage could be felt like the crack of lighting and crash of thunder vibrating everywhere with the eerie descent of a mid-summer storm.

  AJ curled his fingers around Jillian’s panties and slid them down her legs, keeping his eyes fixed to hers. He gripped the firm muscled tissue of her legs and pressed his lips to her. Jillian swallowed hard, flattened her hands to the drywall, then curled her fingers until a dusting of it began to collect under her fingernails. Her skirt fell over his head like a mechanic under the hood of a car. God, did she need to be serviced.

  His tongue eased along the apex of her legs. Her head fell back against the wall with a soft thump, eyes closed, fingernails chiseling small divots in the wall. It was the closest she’d felt to Luke in months. His voice whispered in her head.

  “You can touch anything … but me.”

  As AJ teased her opening and massaged her clitoris with expertise, she bit her bottom lip until she tasted her own blood. Another coping mechanism that she’d given up, but once again needed. Jillian needed so much more, but she took what AJ gave her and knew that it would be enough … it had to be enough.

  The pressure built with momentum. Jillian wanted to let go as much as she wanted to hold on. She tried to pull away as he pushed her closer to the edge, but her silent pleas to wait just a little longer went unheard. He slid his hands up the back of her legs and palmed her ass hard, holding her to him as she went tumbling out of control down the hill of a body-seizing, mind-blowing orgasm. The sound of AJ moaning against her sensitive flesh, like he was getting off from just the taste of her, echoed in her ears.

  AJ emerged from under her hood, wiping his mouth with the back of his non-bloodied hand. He looked like hell and Jillian rather liked the dark side at that moment: his right hand smeared with blood, his shirt torn open exposing his rock-solid physique, and his lips swollen from administering an unforgiving assault on both sets of her lips.

  Jillian bent down and grabbed her shoes and panties. “So … tell Carin I’m sorry for keeping you.” She considered saying thank you but decided to just bite her lips together and leave it at that. AJ gave her his signature blank stare so she turned to leave through the side door.

  “Jillian?”

  She looked back, feigning confidence because she wasn’t. She was flustered with a nauseating mix of embarrassment and guilt.

  “Thank you for not taking advantage of my son tonight.”

  A grin pulled at her lips. “You’re welcome.” She turned without looking back.

  She was greeted by the smell of popcorn the moment she walked in the door. Jackson sat at the dining room table enjoying a late night snack while messing with his computer. He clocked her the second she closed the door; his eyes moved to her hand that held her sandals and panties.

  “You know, there’s a reason they call them undergarments.”

  She dropped her shoes on the floor and padded off toward her room. “Good night, Jacks.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jillian stirred to consciousness by Für Elise, the worst possible, nearly indistinguishable version of it. She suspected that to be the “rape” to which Jackson had made reference. On a long groan, she reached for her watch on the nightstand. It read five after noon.

  “I’m a complete lazy-ass,” she mumbled through a lion’s yawn as she stretched into an X on her big bed. Confirming the time of day, the shrill screech of the mail truck’s brakes sounded in the distance. Jillian traipsed to the front door, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Jackson sitting next to his student. She stuck her tongue out at him before stepping into the sweltering sun, wearing only her thread-bare tank top, hip-hugger panties, and of course red rain boots.

  “Oh, man. My dad’s going to crap his pants.” Cage grinned while circling a soapy sponge over the hood of his truck.

  Jillian padded toward the mailboxes, squinting at him. “Why? Did he have undercooked chicken for dinner last night?’

  Cage laughed. “No. He’s usually not home to see you get the mail, but he just pulled in. Came home for lunch today.”

  She retrieved her three pieces of junk mail. “Is my ‘getting the mail’ an event around here?”

  “If you lived in college dorms, no. But around here, yes. You getting the mail is the event of the day for these guys. Except my dad. I don’t think he approves of your …”

  Jillian raised a hand to her brow, blocking the sun. “My?”

  Cage shrugged, “Your … free spiritedness.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  “He means the strip show you give the neighbors.” AJ stepped out from the corner of the garage. “Give us a minute, son.”

  Cage’s face looked pained as he fought to hide his monstrous grin. “Told ya.” He chuckled before going inside the house.

  Jillian eyed AJ in his uniform. “Back to work today?”

  “Go put some clothes on.”

  She laughed. “I’m not naked.”

  “You look cheap and easy strutting around wearing next to nothing in front of your neighbors.”

  Jillian wet her lips then bit them together. “I see. Did I taste cheap and easy last night?”

  AJ’s eyes slipped from her gaze.

  “I’m probably more than ten years younger than you. What will the neighbors think when they see you looking at me like the perverted dirty old man you are, like a dog salivating over a piece of meat.”

  AJ’s face masked into an unappreciative scowl, focusing his gaze back on Jillian’s. “I have to get back to work.”

  “It must be exhausting being grumpy all the time. When you’re alone do you roll around on the floor, hugging your belly while laughing hysterically? Because it’s human nature to smile and laugh, so holding it in for the sake of keeping up this stern façade of yours must feel like torture sometimes. Am I right?”

  AJ turned. “You don’t know me.”

  “I don’t. But I feel you.”

  Jillian’s words stopped him like a fired gun. AJ looked over his shoulder.

  “Good day, Sarge.” She took her barely-covered body back in the house. A dreary cloud of sadness weighed on her. Luke had said those same words.

  I feel you.

  *

  Jackson finished his two lessons for the day and took Jillian to get her Harley. They grabbed an early dinner, then she set off for the open road while he headed home for his first official date since arriving in Omaha—the daughter of a student. Jillian warned him
it wasn’t going to end well, but Jackson returned with the look-who’s-talking face.

  She arrived home just after seven. The whole neighborhood was outside watering plants, walking dogs, chatting in driveways. The trademark rumble of her hog pulling into the development turned heads and unhinged jaws. Jillian smirked behind the shielded face of her helmet. If there was a noise limit for Peaceful Woods, she was most likely breaking it.

  “Yours?” Stan asked as she pulled off her helmet. He and Dodge sat in the pimped-out golf cart parked in her driveway just feet from her garage.

  She shook out her long blond hair … just because. Dodge and Stan shared a pleased grin that Jillian caught out of the corner of her eye. “Yep, it’s mine. You like?”

  One by one more neighbors gathered around because they really had nothing better to do than keep tabs on the new neighbors.

  “It looks like a sweet ride. It doesn’t have any Husker decals or a cooler on the back, but it’s not bad at all.” Dodge winked.

  Jillian grinned. “Oh, Dodge. I knew when I saw your baby that any attempt to compete would be futile at best. But she’s an okay ride, even if I have to stop at an actual bar to get a drink.” She ran her hand over the seat.

  “Hey, Sarge! Whatdaya think of Jillian’s Harley?” Stan handed AJ a beer from Dodge’s cooler.

  Jillian looked up, not realizing her surly mannered neighbor had joined the evening’s circus gathering.

  “Looks like she has too much time on her hands and too much money in the bank for someone her age.”

  “Yeah, Jillian. That’s quite the purchase for someone mowing lawns and watching Lilith part-time.” Marvin Housby, Greta’s husband, piped up.

  Jillian squinted at AJ for a second before moving her focus to Marvin. “I do home parties at night too.”

  “Oh yeah? Like candles or the gourmet meal type stuff?” Greta asked with complete innocence.

  Jillian smiled. She did offer edible underwear and edible chocolate body cream, as well as some scented candles that gave off an aphrodisiac aroma. “Sort of, along with some other PPDs.”

  The small gathering looked at each other in confusion, but nobody wanted to admit they didn’t know what she meant by PPD … except AJ.”

  “PPDs?” he questioned.

  Wicked delight danced across Jillian’s face as she looked at AJ. “Personal Pleasure Devices. Can I interest you in a private demonstration, Sarge?”

  The cricket chirps amplified in the silence her words created. Then faces morphed into shock as everyone stared at Jillian and AJ. They, however, looked only at each other.

  Dodge cleared his throat. “I’ve … uh … gotta get back to Lilith. I told her I’d only be gone ten minutes.” With his cue everyone else mumbled a few excuses and wandered back to their houses, leaving Jillian and AJ alone.

  “Sex toys?”

  “Come inside, AJ.” Jillian shrugged off her leather jacket as she walked in the house.

  “I don’t want to see your—” The door shut before AJ could finish his protest.

  Jillian snagged an apple from the counter and washed it. The grin on her face grew as she waited for the backdoor to open. She knew AJ was standing in her garage, grumpy as hell, contemplating his move. There was little doubt in her mind that he would eventually come inside. She knew underneath that seemingly impenetrable layer of stubbornness was an undeniable curiosity that made him just as human as everyone else.

  “You realize half the damn neighborhood thinks you’re married, and now you’ve got them thinking there’s something going on between us—” AJ let his cheery self into the house.

  “Is there not something going on between us?”

  He helped himself to a seat at the table. Jillian plopped down in the chair next to him, propping her boots up on his legs. He frowned at her boots.

  “What do you need, AJ?” She threw his words back at him. “Do you want to go downstairs and duke it out? Do you want to fuck me doggie style until I howl at the moon? Do you need me to suck you off to help relieve a bit of that pent-up anger you carry around all day?”

  His jaw twitched as he stared at her with such intensity it nearly cracked her own façade. “Yes.” Just one word.

  Jillian paused mid-chew, waiting for more, but he offered nothing. She continued eating her apple. “What did you see that messed you up so bad?”

  “Who said I’m messed-up?”

  She chuckled. “Fair enough. Why don’t you ask me out on a proper date: flowers, cloth napkins, fine wine, a chaste kiss goodnight?”

  AJ raised a suspicious brow. “Chaste kiss? Has a guy ever given you a chaste kiss and lived to tell about it?”

  “So you won’t ask me out because you’re afraid of me?”

  “I fear no one.”

  Jillian’s eyes widened. “Wow. Lucky you.”

  AJ shoved her boots off his legs then dusted off the nonexistent dirt. “Who do you fear?”

  Jillian finished her apple, core included, then tugged off her boots before drawing her knees to her chest. “Where to begin … uh … I don’t trust women with more than three children under the age of eight. They have to be ticking time bombs. I’ve seen it at the grocery store—one in the cart screaming with his hand stuck between the metal bars, one under the cart eating cookies out of the box that hasn’t been paid for yet, another bear-hugging her leg because he didn’t get the pack of gum he wanted, and one in a carrier latched-on to the breast, but occasionally popping off to look around and the mom doesn’t realize her body is in letdown mode so she’s spraying breastmilk everywhere.”

  Jillian met AJ’s gaze and although his lips were set in a hard line, she swore his eyes sparkled with a glimmer of amusement.

  She continued, “People who drive ice cream trucks. I mean come on, parents tell their kids not to talk to strangers or take food from strangers, yet they send them down the street with a five dollar bill in hand chasing some old truck that probably has three kids gagged and bound in the back already. It’s like they’re saying ‘Hey, here’s five bucks, take my kid.’ And don’t even get me started on people whose second toe is longer than their big toe.”

  That’s when it happened. As hard as he tried, AJ couldn’t stifle his laugh any longer. Jillian took advantage of the moment by climbing onto his lap. He had a smile that was boyish yet handsome. She rested her hands on his broad shoulders and pecked at the grin that lingered on his lips. He tensed when she drew his bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it gently between her teeth. Then she released it and kissed him with a patience that threatened to drain her last bit of control.

  Making someone bleed just to prove a point is not control. Luke’s words calmed her urge.

  Jillian pulled back even as AJ’s mouth continued to reach for hers. “Take me out on a real date.”

  She felt his heart thumping against her chest, his arousal between her legs, and his quick breaths against her face.

  “No.” He claimed her lips once more with demanding force. His tongue as desperate as his lips. Before Jillian could bring the moment into focus, his hands slid up her shirt and he moaned when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra. He pushed her shirt up and released her lips. Jillian hissed in a breath as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Closing his eyes, he took pleasure in her body.

  The woman in her, the Jillian in her, wanted to let go and feel her own pleasure, but she couldn’t. The recent rebirth of her life had left her lost in self-discovery. Passion wasn’t love and love wasn’t passion. Her physical urges felt like emotional needs, yet she knew that wasn’t possible. She’d been several pieces away from solving a puzzle, and then some bully came along and wiped all five thousand pieces onto the floor like the ruins of a small town after an EF-5 tornado.

  “Enough,” Jillian said, swallowing hard.

  AJ continued.

  “E-nough!” Jillian raised onto her knees until her right one was applying firm pressure to his crotch.

  “Dammit!” AJ jerked his
head back and grabbed her waist to lift her off him. “What is your deal?”

  Jillian walked into the kitchen and jotted down her phone number on a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed it to him. “Congratulations for not being messed-up from your past, but I kind of am. So when you’re ready to treat me with respect give me a call.”

  AJ stared at it then stood. “That won’t be happening.” He tossed the piece of paper on the table and walked out the door.

  Jillian laughed to herself. She didn’t think it was possible to find someone functioning in society that was as messed-up as she was. Wrong!

  *

  Five days passed before Jillian saw AJ again. The complete lack of activity next door led her to believe he had disappeared like Cage said he did on occasion. She kept busy with two lucrative Lascivio parties, keeping the yards looking trim, and her favorite job: watching Lilith.

  “Jesus, Dodge! What the hell happened?” Jillian winced, looking at the stitched-up gouge between his two black eyes.

  “Nasty leg cramp in the middle of the night on Sunday. Fell out of bed and the corner of the nightstand high-fived my head before the rest of my body hit the ground. Stan had to take me to the emergency room at two o’clock in the morning. But don’t worry, it looks worse than it feels.”

  “I don’t doubt that because I’m going to be honest with you, Dodge, it couldn’t look much worse.”

  “Just as well, young lady. At least now you won’t be flirting with me so much and making the missus jealous.”

  Jillian looked over at Lilith, who was enraptured with a grin on her face while reading what must have been a good book. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s been a real issue.”

  Dodge looked down at his phone. “Stan should be picking me up soon. You two ladies have fun.”

  “Where you off to today?”

  “Lumberyard. Stan’s going to get some boards and stain them to match my headboard. Then he’s going to build a railing for the side of my bed that locks in at night to prevent future injuries.”