“You should’ve gone to the hospital.”
He shook his head slowly. “Nothing’s broken. Just bruised. I need to file a report tonight.”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight, Jack,” she said softly and waited for an argument that didn’t come. Jack closed his eyes and took deep breaths. “Where were you when this happened?” Gently, she dabbed at the cuts under his eyes. He held back a flinch and she gave him credit for trying to minimize the pain he was in for her sake.
“Parking lot behind the flower shop.”
“What were you doing there?”
His eyes opened and he made another attempt to smile. “Buying flowers.”
“Oh.” That really didn’t answer her question.
“For you.”
“For m-me?” Jillian nearly swallowed her tongue. A dozen questions came to mind but she didn’t voice them. She was more concerned about Jack’s injuries than wondering why he wanted to bring her flowers. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
Tears welled in her eyes and something hot burned its way to her gut. Jack was out buying flowers for her. How could a simple act turn so violent? But she knew. Deep in the pit of her stomach, she really did know. She was a jinx. Jack’s bad luck charm. Ever since she’d shown up here, Jack’s well-ordered life had taken an unholy turn for the worst.
She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have come back to Hope Wells. But even though those thoughts seared a path to her brain and screamed at her for involving Jack in her problems, she also knew she had to muster up and see it through. She couldn’t let Jack down. If he lost little Beau on her account, she’d never be able to look herself in the mirror.
“Comes with the job,” he said lifting one shoulder slightly in a battered shrug.
The blood from his shirt had seeped onto his chest and she dabbed at it. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be any gashes anywhere on his torso, though some nasty bruises were starting to turn color. “How are your ribs?”
“I’m breathing fine,” he said quietly. “Like I said, nothing’s broken.”
“And how would you know that for sure?”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, babe. I’ve been in worse fights.”
“As a lawman?”
He gave his head a shake and then flinched from the sudden movement. “Not as a lawman. I’ve had a few punches thrown at me, but nothing like this.”
“Then when?”
He paused, as if reluctant to say, and then his eyes met hers and the intensity of his stare ran chills down her spine. “After you left town.”
“Oh?”
“I guess, I went through a wild phase, before my daddy reined me in.”
Her eyes squeezed closed as memories returned. Her mama had dragged her away to the west coast screaming and kicking and it had been horrible. Jillian resented her, resented the aunt who had taken them in for a short time, resented her life in general. Not that Hope Wells had been dear to her heart, just the opposite, but the thought of being ripped away from Jack and the only stability she’d known came as a big blow.
Northern California might have been known for its clear blue sky days, lush vineyards, sparkling with ripe purple fruit, and coastal cities booming with culture, but for Jillian, living with her aunt and step-uncle meant cold, lonely days and nights where she sobbed herself to sleep. Where she wouldn’t make a friend out of sheer stubbornness. Where she could’ve easily been mistaken as a soul-empty, foot-shuffling cast member of The Walking Dead.
But she’d never thought Jack would have it as bad. She never thought Jack would lose himself to disorderly conduct. By nature, he was only a rebel in jest. He wisecracked his way through school, yet everyone knew Jack to be honest and trustworthy and good. To the bone.
So this came as a shock to her. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“A man gets kicked in the balls, he comes out fightin’. That is, once he can stand erect again.” His lips fought for a smile.
“Oh, Jack.”
“It’s in the past, Jillian. Leave it there.”
She would. She had to. She finished cleaning him up, coated antiseptic on his lacerations and bandaged his smaller cuts. Handing him a glass of water, she spilled two extra strength aspirins into his hand.
He stared at them.
“It’ll help with the swelling. And… pain.” The words struggled from her lips.
Jack looked pretty beat up but, even still, lying in his bed half covered with a sheet, his chest big and broad and bruised, Jillian swallowed down daring any other man to be more appealing. He looked vulnerable, yet intimidating. Weak, yet strong and so jaw-droppingly rugged right now, she had a hard time peeling her eyes away.
After he downed the pills, she took the glass from his hands and set it on the nightstand. “You should rest now.”
“It’s early.”
“Not that early. And you’re tired. I can see it in your eyes.”
He closed them and her heart lurched at the pain he must be in, the pain he tried hard to hide from her. She wished he would go to the hospital, or at the very least, see a doctor, but his mind was made up and she knew arguing with him tonight would be futile.
“I’ll shut off the light and say goodnight,” she whispered.
She planted her feet on the ground and rose from the bed just as his right hand snaked out to grab her. She turned to glance at his big hand covering her wrist.
“Don’t go.” His eyes were open now, clear and beckoning her earnestly. “Stay with me a little while.”
“I, uh, you really need to rest. We can’t…”
A flicker of amusement lit in his eyes. “You give me too much credit, babe. Doubt I’m in any shape to make you moan right now.”
She opened her mouth in a silent oh, and the man actually grinned. “I’m not asking for anything but your company. Until I fall asleep.”
Of course he was. She was a fool and a woman with sex on the brain. Not that she wanted to indulge with him because that would only lead to more confusion, but she could definitely lie beside an injured man to give him peace of mind. What he’d gone through tonight couldn’t have been easy. Even the mighty Jack Walker needed a little solace and comfort after having three men unfairly thump on him.
“Sure. I can do that”
She shut off the light, kicked off her shoes, and, careful not to disrupt the calm, climbed gently into Jack’s bed, fully dressed. Just a second later, he touched her hand, entwining their fingers from under the sheets, sending sweet butterflies to her belly.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
But he didn’t need to say the words.
She knew.
*
Jillian woke up bathed in warmth, something tickling the slope of her throat. Not something, someone. Jack spooned her, his arm draping over her hip and his lips pressed against her skin, just below her right ear.
“Jack?”
“Hmmm.”
“What are you doing?”
“Feeling better?”
Despite herself, she chuckled. “I’m glad.”
“Me too,” he admitted in a low, rough voice. The rasp did things to her. Hot, wonderful things.
The tiniest sliver of light coming into the room announced dawn was on the horizon. It was early, too early to get out of bed. She’d slept in her clothes but that wasn’t as bad as the signal she was sending Jack, not leaving his bed. Last night, she’d kept an eye out for him to make sure he was okay, to make sure he didn’t wake up in pain, but she’d had every intention of going to her own room before sleep claimed her.
Now, cocooned in his embrace, she didn’t want to move. It felt good, too good, being with him again. Having his body nudged up against hers and sensing his arousal pushed her to the limit of her willpower.
She wanted him. God help her.
His hand began making circles over her belly, his fingers hovering below her navel. She caught her breath before a gasp of pleasure escaped. And then, his lips were on the back of her thr
oat, pressing and releasing soft moist kisses there.
“I’m glad you stayed,” he murmured.
“It was an accident.”
She felt his smile against her throat. “Too late for excuses.”
“Mmm,” she replied, agreeing.
“You feel good,” he whispered, his hand inching further below her waist.
Spirals of heat swamped her body. “Jack.” She protested rather weakly. Actually, it hadn’t come out as a protest at all, but more a whispered breath.
This encouraged him and he moved over her. A sharp grunt pushed out of his mouth, probably from the movement, but Jack covered her mouth so quickly, she didn’t have time to ask. Instead, he made it clear kissing him was the tonic he needed.
And maybe that was true of her too. She hated seeing him hurt. Hated knowing the big, strong man had been downed in a brutal way, but today, she could make him feel better and suddenly that was what she wanted more than anything.
She turned to face him. His fingers tangled in her hair as he gave her this moment. She met his gaze and his lush dark eyes spoke to her, revealing desire and want and… trust. Jack trusted her. He let her see his vulnerable side. He let her see him weakened and injured, claiming no stubborn pride or alpha superiority. He’d been hurt and he’d allowed her to tend him. And now, he was allowing her to see him buck naked.
Even as varying shades of bruises colored his body, he was breathtaking. Her eyes touched on each of his injuries, one by one, willing the pain to go away, hoping his recovery would be easy. She brought her mouth to his again, touching his lips gently, noting how much the swelling had subsided.
“Heal me, Jillian,” he whispered between her kisses.
“I plan to.” She only took a few seconds to discard her clothes and come back to him on the bed.
This time when he groaned, it was from pleasure. His hands immediately found her hips and he slid them up and down her body, splaying his fingers wide as if to feel as much of her as possible. Then he grazed over her breasts, teasing the globes that so sorely ached for his touch. He cupped them in his hands and applied sweet pressure and the moan escaping her lips was long and low and necessary.
“You’re perfect, Jillian,” he said, dipping down to bathe one taut nipple with his tongue.
Sensations rifled through her at breakneck speed now and she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, arching her back. Everything inside her went tight. Tremors and hot anticipation warred to overtake her body, but soon Jack was pulling away from her chest. His mouth making a claim on her lips and his tongue meeting hers in a flirty push-pull that sent shock waves below her waist.
The next thing she knew, Jack was there, one hand slipping below her navel to gently massage the sweet spot, his fingers riding over her sensitive skin, back and forth, over and over. Jillian huffed. Her breaths shortened. Her eyes squeezed shut.
“Shatter for me, babe,” Jack said.
Hearing those words coupled with the way he was playing her body so expertly, Jillian couldn’t hold back another second. She did as she was told. She shattered. For Jack. Because of Jack. Her lips parted and a whimper of need came out, a plea that rose along the peak of her sanity, threatening to crush all rational thought. She bucked and jerked and Jack persisted, making her cry out louder as she rode the stream of this heightened pleasure.
“I can’t,” she whispered desperately, the orgasm rocking her.
“You can, sweetheart.” Jack rasped, sounding just as turned on as she was.
After she was through, somewhere in the back of her mind, Jillian remembered that she was supposed to heal him, not the other way around. But as she opened her eyes to him, he was smiling, a hotly satisfied look on his face that most likely mirrored hers.
“Are you through healing me?” he asked, finding his own wit awfully funny.
“Not even close, buster. Lay down and—”
“Shut up? You got it.” The mattress hissed from his weight as he threw himself back, waiting, his eyes latched to hers.
She wasted no time climbing over his hips and straddling him. Careful not to disturb his injuries, she bent to shower kisses on his mouth, chin, jaw, and then lower to the broad breadth of his shoulders. Nimbly, she moved her body down along his legs and, kneeling between them, she gripped the length of his arousal, teasing and taunting him with her mouth and tongue.
His breath caught nosily in his throat. And she lifted her lashes to see the torrent of pleasure on his face, his teeth gritted and a fiercely hungry look in his eyes. She loved pleasing him and making him hers for these few short hours.
It was heaven on Texas earth.
His taste, the salty silky texture of his thick erection began building another wave of heat inside her body. She was lost to it, to him. His hands pushed through her hair, tangling in the locks deliberately as she kept on giving him pleasure, taking some for herself.
He uttered curses which ordinarily would be vile, but blowing out of his mouth only heightened the sensual moment, only made her want to please him even more.
Her tongue wound around him, her mouth covered him one last time before she rose up on her knees and positioned herself. With his hands on her hips as guidance, she met his intense stare, the darkened pupils, the heat between their bodies, the nod of his head once he had protection in place, telling her he was ready. More than ready.
She sank down, onto him, her folds parting to make way for the gloriously thick shaft impaling her. She had it right. Heaven on Texas earth. Her eyes slammed shut, allowing her to simply feel. And it felt so darn good.
Jillian smiled to herself. Jack brought out the sex kitten in her. But she’d never admit that to a soul. Especially Jack.
His hips rose up to meet her and she lowered down. The union was fierce and powerful and hot… hot… hot.
Beads of perspiration coated Jack’s forehead.
Her body blazed.
It was better than great, riding him, setting the pace, watching the combination of sheer joy and wild lust on his face.
“Nothing is better than this.” He rasped, his hands gripping her hips, his eyes on the bounce of her breasts, his erection pulsing deep inside her.
It was sex talk, but Jillian had to agree. If they had one thing going for them, it was wild, crazy hot sex.
It wasn’t enough to rely on. It would never be enough to sustain them, and Jillian quickly struck those thoughts from her mind. For now, she’d take crazy hot sex. With Jack. Her fiancé. Soon-to-be temporary husband.
Jack bucked, his hips lifting to thrust fully into her. She crashed down against him and the tempo picked up, faster, faster. She rode him hard, harder, and then his low, deep grunts told her he was ready. She didn’t need to catch up, she was already there.
His hands dug into her sides, her skin taut under his fingertips as he held her tight and gave her one surging thrust after another. Sensations whirled around in her head, her mind going fuzzy and then her body released, collapsing in mind-blowing spasms of shocking jolts.
A long, deep groan pulled from Jack’s mouth, his face contorting as he rode out the storm, his body pulsing, his heartbeats quickening. She watched him as he watched her and together, they met their ultimate completion.
Seconds afterward, Jack fell back onto the bed, taking her along with him. “Your injuries?”
He shook his head. “I can’t feel anything right now but you, babe. God, you feel good.” He pressed kisses to her forehead, her earlobe, her cheek and then, with a finger under her chin, positioned her head so that he could kiss her mouth senseless.
She curled her arms behind his neck. “So then I healed you?”
“I’m not sure I want to be healed. Kinda nice having you look after me this way.”
She chuckled. “Part of my charm.”
“Hell, yeah. Don’t I know it.”
“But are you really feeling better, Jack? I mean those bruises on your chest are starting to look really
nasty.” Gingerly, she placed one fingertip on the worst of the bruises.
“I’ll heal in time, don’t you worry about me.”
But she did. Too much. She cared about Jack. More than she should.
More than was smart.
Or safe.
*
Jack arranged to pick up Beau Riley from his foster care home hours after leaving Jillian in his bed. It was the boy’s first day of school and he didn’t want to miss any of Beau’s firsts. The astute kid immediately noticed the cuts on Jack’s face and since his uniform covered the rest of his injuries, he fibbed, telling Beau he’d been clumsy as an ox falling over a pile of bricks in his side yard, garnering a relieved smile from the boy.
“Got your backpack all set?” he asked Beau as they drove toward McGowan Elementary School.
John P. McGowan had founded the town years back, owning most of the surrounding land too, and had eventually portioned it off to sell to ranchers. The man had been arthritic and had discovered the swirling warm waters of Wishing Wells somewhat helped heal him. He named the town after the wells and the hope he’d had for the future. Hope Wells had intriguing history up the ying-yang and Jack hoped to share that history with Beau one day.
Beau nodded. “I think. Mrs. Weston packed me a lunch. We went shopping for school supplies. I got new pencils, crayons.” The boy shrugged. “Stuff like that.” His shoulders slouched; he appeared a little nervous but was trying his best to conceal it.
“Hey, and remember I’m picking you up today. After school, we’ll go to the park and play catch. I’ll try not to fall over my own feet.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice a little bit off. “Will Jillian be there?”
Jack immediately flashed an image of Jillian saying goodbye to him this morning wearing next to nothing. He’d had a hard time leaving her. Had an even harder time not letting thoughts of her consume all of his morning. He was in so much trouble. He had it bad for her. Really, really bad.
“Uh, do you want her to come to the park?”
“She’s nice,” Beau said.
“Yeah, she is. I’ll ask her, but I can’t promise she’ll be able to.”
“Okay.”
The boy had had so many changes in his life already and starting school was just one more to add to the list. But it wasn’t unusual for there to be nerves on the first day of school. Jack had spoken with Beau’s teacher several weeks back. Claire Kelly had given him a few pointers as to what to expect. Because he knew Claire personally, it hadn’t been a formal meeting, yet it still felt good to be acting as Beau’s parent, getting tips and hints on how to deal with the boy’s anxiety.
Loving the Texas Lawman Page 13