The Dangerous Jacob Wilde

by Sandra Marton

But, somehow, he held himself still.

  Waited until her muscles took all of him in.

  Then, slowly, he drew back. Not all the way. Just enough. The sensation, so exquisite, so exciting, made him shudder.

  She went wild beneath him.

  He caught hold of her hands, brought them to her sides, moved faster, faster …

  “Jacob.”

  Her voice was low. Breathless. She said his name again and lifted to his thrusts, her body an arcing bow of pleasure as his arrowed into her.

  The world blurred.

  Sweat glistened on his skin.

  “Now,” he said, and she came, sobbing his name, her legs locked around him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

  He gave one long, rough groan.

  Then he flew with her into a rainbow of color and light.

  He lay sprawled over her.

  His body was solid. Hard. He outweighed her by who knew how many dozen pounds.

  His weight pinned her to the mattress….

  And, oh, it was a lovely feeling.

  When he moved, she gave a little mmm of protest.

  “I’m too heavy for you,” he whispered.

  “No,” she whispered back. “You’re not.”

  She felt his lips curve against her throat.

  “I am,” he said.

  She sighed. “I don’t care.”

  No. Neither did he. He could stay exactly where he was, forever.

  Still, after a minute or two, he rolled off her, wrapped her in his arms, drew her against him so that her head was on his shoulder and kissed her.

  A pleased sigh eased from her lips. She felt his mouth curve against hers in response.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, a little hoarse. “I think so, too.”

  Was sex supposed to be like this?

  She couldn’t ask him; no way would she expose her ignorance but the truth was that even though she had a reputation that would have given Salome a run for her money, this was all new.

  She’d had only three prior lovers. One had been a virgin, like her. It had happened in college. The other two had been when she was in law school.

  Nice guys, all of them.

  But the sex …

  It hadn’t been memorable.

  This—this experience with Jacob … Okay. Both experiences with Jacob …

  Memorable.

  Incredibly memorable.

  Although today might even have been better, Addison thought, repressing a little shiver of delight.

  For one thing, the rain had stopped. Daylight was streaming through the windows.

  She could see Jacob.

  He could see her.

  She tried not to blush at the thought.

  Plus, last night, escaping his arms, putting space between them, had been what she’d longed for.

  Not today.

  She wanted to lie here forever. Just like this. Her head pillowed on his shoulder. With his hand stroking the length of her body.

  He was doing it in a way that sent just the tips of his fingers over her breast, over her nipple …

  She was blushing now. She could feel the rise of heat in her face.

  And he knew it. Just look at how he was grinning.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said, “how about sharing it with me?”

  “That was …” She cleared her throat. “It was … nice.”

  “Nice? Nice?” He scowled, rose up on one elbow and looked down at her. “You know how to hurt a guy, McDowell.”

  He was teasing her. And she loved it.

  Who’d have thought sex could involve laughter?

  He grinned. Rolled her on her back. Caught her wrists, pinned her hands high over her head.

  “Admit it.”

  Oh, the feel of him against her. All that hard, lean muscle …

  “Admit what?” she said breathlessly.

  “Admit this was better than nice.”

  “Maybe,” she said, teasing him back.

  “Maybe, the woman says.” He shifted a little. She bit back a moan. He was becoming aroused. She could feel him against her belly.

  “Lots better than nice,” he said in a low, sexy whisper.

  She wanted to say something clever, but all she could manage was a soft moan.

  He kissed her mouth. She returned the kiss.

  He moved. She did, too.

  The engorged head of his erection was between her thighs. It brushed against her sensitized flesh.

  “Please,” she said.

  “Please, what?” he said, and then he was inside her, moving inside her, and the world tilted and spun away.

  This time, after he withdrew, he wrapped them both in the duvet.

  Then he drew her into the warm shelter of his arms and kissed her temple.

  “Sleep,” he said softly.

  She couldn’t. She was lying on her right side, and she never—she never—

  When she woke, there were long shadows in the room, and a fire leaping in the hearth.

  Jake, wearing only his jeans, squatted beside it, feeding wood to the flames.

  Addison sat up, the duvet clutched to her chin.

  He looked around, smiled when he saw her.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  She shoved her hair back from her face.

  “What time—” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat, started again. “What time is it?”

  He looked at his watch.

  “Almost five.”

  Her eyes widened. “Almost …”

  Jake rose. His beauty made her heartbeat quicken. His skin was tanned, his muscles the kind a man got from hard work, not from a gym. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned; she couldn’t keep her gaze from going to the arrow of dark, silky hair that disappeared behind his fly.

  “Don’t tell me,” he said, as he came slowly toward her. “You have an appointment with a can of paint.”

  “A can of …” She laughed. “You can still smell it.”

  “Uh-huh.” He sat down next to her, leaned in, gave her a long, lingering kiss. “You painted this room all by yourself?”

  “I’m a painting expert. Do you have any idea what painters charge in New York?”

  “A frugal woman.” He clapped a hand to his chest. “Be still, my heart.”

  “A broke woman. Tuition loans. A condo mortgage.”

  “According to Caleb, all lawyers are rich.”

  “I’m an indentured servant, in my second year at Kalich, Kalich and Kalich.”

  He grinned. “An imaginative name for a law firm.”

  “Especially,” Addison said, “when you consider that the last Kalich toddled off this mortal plane twenty years ago.”

  Jake laughed, leaned in and kissed her again. This time, she sighed and sank into the kiss.

  “So,” he said, curving a hand around the side of her face, “you went to Home Depot—”

  “Sears. They had paint and stuff for the floor and all the other things I needed.”

  He shook his head. “Old man Chambers would be horrified.”

  “Horrified? That I cleaned up this—this—”

  She was indignant. Jake tried not to laugh.

  “Keeping the place a disaster area was a point of pride with him. The summers I worked here, I used to offer to deal with more than the fences and the horses. He’d always get this look on his face and tell me to mind my own business.” He shrugged. “But I don’t think he really let it all go to hell until the last few years, while I was … away.”

  Away. Addison looked at him. Away seemed a strange way to describe being in a war, getting wounded, doing something heroic enough to win an important medal.

  “How long were you away?” she said softly.

  A muscled knotted in his jaw.

  “Too long,” he said, after a minute. “And maybe not long enough.”

  He turned away from her … and her breath caught. A series of vicious scars pocked his right shoulder. Without thinking, she r
eached out and touched her fingers gently to the raw-looking flesh.

  He jerked back, grabbed his shirt from the floor, shrugged it on and reached for his jeans.

  “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry. Did I hurt—”

  “I’m fine.”

  Addison reached out to him but his posture was unyielding. Instinct warned her not to touch him.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “I just don’t want to talk about it.” His words were clipped as he rose to his feet. “I’m going to make coffee.”

  “Jacob. Wait—”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Go on. Get dressed.”

  Moments ago, they’d been part of each other. Now …

  Now, she grabbed the duvet and dragged it to her chin.

  She was entirely naked. Not just her body. Her soul. Her heart. In less than twenty-four hours, she’d become terrifyingly vulnerable, something she had spent most of her life avoiding.

  She must have made a sound. A whimper. Something, because he swung toward her.

  “Goddammit,” he said. “Honey, I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head without looking at him.

  “No. No, that’s okay. I just—I just—”

  Jake cursed, strode back to her and gathered her tightly into his arms.

  “It isn’t you. It’s me, honey. I don’t talk about it. What happened. I don’t talk about it to anybody.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  He almost laughed.

  She didn’t. She couldn’t. Hell, he didn’t understand it, and he lived with it.

  “I flew Blackhawks,” he said. “Do you know what they are?”

  “Helicopters?”

  “Yeah. Big, bad birds. They can carry damned near anything to a battlefield. Troops. Equipment. Anything.” His voice roughened. “And they can carry things off a battlefield. They can do medical evacuations, provide cover and get men who’ve been pinned down, men who are dying, out of harm’s way.”

  “Jacob, don’t.” She put her fingers lightly over his mouth. “You don’t have to—”

  “Sometimes things went right. I was lucky. Sometimes, I wasn’t.” His mouth twisted. “After a while, you start keeping score, you know? Two saved. Two lost. Two bastards taken out, permanently. That kind of thing.”

  “It must be awful. To lose men. To have to wonder what will happen next.”

  “Yeah. But, like I say, you keep count. As long as your numbers stay ahead, you stay sane.” He paused. “And then,” he said, in a low voice, “then, one day …” He shuddered. “I can’t talk about it. Just—just leave it alone.”

  “Whatever you want,” she said softly.

  He stared at her while the seconds swept past. Then he groaned and wrapped her in his arms.

  They sat that way for a long time. The fire in the brick hearth burned down to cinders.

  Finally, Jake sighed.

  “That’s more than I’ve ever told anyone,” he said softly.

  He hadn’t told her anything, not really, but she knew what he meant. He’d let her see beyond his wounds, to his pain.

  “So,” he said, and she could see how hard he was searching for something to lighten the moment, “so, one confession deserves another.”

  She smiled. “You think?”

  “I know.” He smiled, too; the smile was almost real but it still had a way to go. “For instance … it’s late, we haven’t eaten all day. So, I’ll let you in on a Wilde secret.”

  She sat back and widened her eyes.

  “You turn into a werewolf at midnight.”

  He laughed.

  “I know how to cook.”

  Addison clapped her hand to her chest.

  “Be still, my heart.”

  “Just tell me what you want for breakfast, or lunch, or whatever in heck this meal is, and I’ll go down to the kitchen and put it together.”

  “Hmm. How about pancakes?”

  “How about Jake Wilde’s famous scrambled eggs and onions? Or Jake Wilde’s dee-licious fried cheese sandwiches? See, the real confession is that I can cook, but only those two things.”

  She laughed.

  “Okay, your turn. You have to confess something to me.”

  You’re wonderful, she thought, but she didn’t have the courage. Besides, she knew it had to be something that would make him laugh.

  “My name isn’t Addison.”

  Jake touched the tip of her nose with his finger.

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Huh. What is it, then? And how come you changed it?”

  “If I were to tell you what it is, you’d understand why I changed it.”

  “What’s this ‘if’ stuff, McDowell? You’re supposed to be telling me something here, not just telling me your name isn’t Addison.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “They are, huh?” His smile turned masculine and sexy; he pushed her back on the bed and kissed her mouth. “Well,” he said softly, “I guess I’ll just have to find a way to unseal them.”

  She let him do just that. Then she smiled and linked her hands behind his neck.

  “Okay. You’ve worked your magic. Bend down so I can whisper my secret.”

  Jake complied. He put his ear against her lips … and, suddenly, what she was about to tell him didn’t seem so funny anymore.

  Nobody knew her real name. Why would she admit it to him?

  “You don’t have to tell me,” he said.

  “No?”

  “No. Because I figured it out. Your real name is Rumpelstiltskin.”

  That did it. She laughed. And said, “My name is Adoré.”

  Jake didn’t laugh.

  “Adoré,” he said softly. “Adoré,” he said again, as he gathered her to him. “It’s a beautiful name, sweetheart. Almost as beautiful as you.”

  She blushed.

  “You think?” she said with girlish delight, and he tumbled her back against the pillows.

  “What I think,” he said gruffly, “is that food can wait.”

  “What am I going to do with you, Jacob Wilde?”

  Jake bent his head, tongued a tender pink nipple. Addison’s laugh became a gasp of pleasure.

  “I’ll help you think of something,” he whispered.

  And he did.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ADDISON STOOD in the kitchen, wearing a robe that came down to her ankles, and stared blankly at the old clock ticking away above the stove.

  “Midnight?” she said. “It can’t be midnight!”

  Jake, dressed only in jeans that rode low on his hips, stood leaning against the door frame, arms folded, bare feet crossed.

  She was a delectable sight, and all he could think about was taking her back to bed.

  But it was late, they were both hungry, and grabbing a bite to eat seemed a smart thing to do when he had every reason to keep up his energy.

  The night wasn’t over yet.

  She looked at him. “What does your watch say?”

  He looked at his watch, then at her.

  “The little hand’s on the twelve,” he said, deadpan. “So’s the big hand. Where I come from, that means it’s either midnight or high noon, honey, and considering the fact that it’s pitch-black outside, my best guess is midnight.”

  “Midnight. I just don’t see how—”

  She bit her lip. And she blushed.

  Damn, he loved that about her! Hours in his arms, hours spent exploring each other, and she could still turn pink as a schoolgirl.

  And yet, she had all the confidence a man could want in a woman, in bed or out. You’d never be able to take her for granted; she’d always be an exciting challenge.

  You could build a future with a woman like Addison McDowell.

  Jake frowned.

  What kind of nonsense was that? This was about terrific sex with a terrific woman. End of story.

  “You’re right,” he said, taking things back to where th
ey belonged. “Where could the hours have gone?”

  The color in her lovely face deepened. Jake relented, straightened to his full height, walked slowly toward her and took her in his arms.

  “Either we get some food in our bellies or they’re gonna find just two piles of bones on old man Chambers’s magnificent linoleum floor.”

  Addison leaned back in his arms.

  “Not a fan of linoleum, huh?”

  “Frankly, I can’t tell linoleum from marble. Well, yeah, I can, but it’s that shade of green makes my stomach lurch.”

  “It’s called chartreuse.”

  “Even worse.”

  She slid her hands up his naked chest, loving the feel of his skin, the silkiness of the dark hair across his sternum, the strong beat of his heart.

  “We had linoleum in the kitchen when I was growing up. Not green. Pink. We had pink everything. Walls. Rugs. Bathroom.” She smiled up at him. “But I got even. Every single thing in my apartment, walls to floors to furniture, is white.”

  “Aha.”

  “Aha, what?”

  “Aha, that explains old man Chambers’s bedroom.”

  “My bedroom,” she said softly.

  “Damned right,” Jake said, his voice a little rough.

  Addison locked her hands at the nape of his neck. She could feel the very edge of his scar under the tips of her fingers. She wanted to slip behind him, press her lips to the scar, but she knew better.

  Jake hadn’t mentioned it again.

  Still, she knew it was some kind of concession that he hadn’t put on his shirt when they finally left the bed, especially since he had not once removed the black patch from his eye.

  He was hurting. Not outside. He was hurting inside and she hurt for him. It was a helpless feeling, not to be able to do anything to help.

  “Such deep thoughts,” he said, brushing his mouth gently over hers.

  Somehow, she managed a quick smile..

  “Chartreuse linoleum will do that every time.”

  “I agree. So, how about we eat something fast so we can get out of this room just as fast?”

  “A brilliant plan, Captain. What would you like?”

  He gave a soft, sexy laugh. She blushed again and he drew her even closer and kissed her.

  “I’m serious, Jacob.”

  “So am I,” he said, and kissed her again.

  The kiss went on for a long, lovely time. Then Addison stepped out of his arms and opened the fridge.

  “Let’s see—I have some cheese….”