Black Jack

by A Parker

  I’d thought about him deep inside me every time I went up or down those stairs for the past week and a half.

  Thinking about it now made me pinch my knees together as a swell of need gathered between my legs. The need continued to grow like a blossoming flower spreading its petals in a desperate attempt to catch as much sunlight as possible.

  My pussy wanted to catch something, that was for sure, but it wasn’t sunlight.

  Jackson followed me toward the stairs, shoulders dipping with every little step he took. His eyes were hooded beneath his brows but they burned in the dim lighting of the bar, and they never strayed from their target—me.

  Finally, I reached the bottom of the stairs. With a guiding hand on the railing I crept up them, turning my back on Jackson and casting the occasional look back at him over my shoulder as he followed. I deliberately put some extra sway into my hips—the same languid motion I used when I used to be a waitress and was desperate for tips or when I wanted men to buy me drinks back in my night-club days. Jackson’s gaze fell to my ass and he savored the sway of my hips with every step.

  I loved the way he looked at me.

  Nothing had ever made me feel so desired in my life as Jackson’s needy gaze did. There was something about the total abandon he had. He didn’t give a damn if I knew he was looking. Hell, he probably wanted me to know he was looking because like he said, I belonged to him.

  He could look as much as he damn well pleased.

  He could take and wreck and fuck me until I wasn’t even me anymore, and I’d still be okay with that. In fact, I wanted it. Craved it. I needed his body like a dying man needed water in this desert. I needed his hands on my thighs, thumbs and fingertips pressing into my flesh as he pushed his way inside me.

  At the top of the stairs, I pushed through my apartment door. Toes, who’d been sleeping on his perch by the windowsill, hopped down with a soft meow in greeting, but as soon as Jackson followed me inside the cat took off toward the bedroom with his head low. Jackson kicked the door closed behind him with enough force that the walls seemed to rattle.

  I backed up toward the couch where we’d last had sex. If I thought too hard about it I could still feel the press of his body against my back as he took me from behind.

  “There’s nowhere left to go,” Jackson said, his voice full of gravel and lust.

  Go? Why on earth would I want to go?

  “Take your clothes off,” he said.

  I dropped my jeans first. My shirt was quick to follow. My panties and bra came next. Standing before him completely naked, I basked in that look of his that I loved so much. His eyes raked me over from head to toe, lingering in all his favorite places. Slowly, I turned in a circle for him, showing off my assets. I drew my hair behind my ears as I put my back to him and arched my spine, knowing for a fact it was the best position to make my ass look incredible.

  I’d done it in front of a mirror more than a handful of times.

  Jackson pulled his shirt off over his head and came for me. He scooped me up and carried me backward until my bare ass hit the windowsill and my shoulder blades touched the glass.

  I pressed my hands against his bare chest, against the swell of muscle and the patchwork of tattoos. “Jackson, people might see.”

  He pushed my thighs apart and stood between my legs with a hand on each of my knees. “Let them look. Let them feel jealous that they can’t have you.”

  My fingers chased the ink across his chest and over his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you rather they not look upon what’s yours? Shouldn’t I be for your eyes only?” Teasing, I leaned in close and trailed my lips across his collarbone and up his throat, pausing to press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. He swallowed beneath my lips and I smiled before working my way up to his ear. “Show me how you take care of what’s yours, Jackson.”

  He shuddered, and I had never felt more powerful in my life.

  I could bend him to my will just like he could bend me to his. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting me worship his neck and jaw with more kisses until I found his lips. I held his face in my hands and kissed him like it was both the first and last time this might ever happen.

  Catching feelings for a man as dangerous as Jackson meant one day one of our kisses might very well be the last. If I’d learned anything over the years it was to live in the moment, so with him standing between my legs I did just that. I tasted him. I nipped at his lips and felt the tickle of the stubble on his jaw against my palms. I arched my back and pressed my hips forward, daring him to do something with my naked body poised on the windowsill.

  He rose to the bait and ran his hands up my thighs. I let out a little sigh when he touched me between my legs. His fingers slid over my clit and I flinched, inhaling sharply when he filled me up with two fingers. I wrapped my legs around him and held him close so I could kiss him while he fucked me with his fingers.

  Like all days, he smelled like sandalwood.

  Jackson’s shoulders shifted as he fingered me, and I spread my legs a little farther, no longer caring that my bare ass was on display for anyone who might have happened to pull into the parking lot down below.

  “You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he growled.

  I could feel it. It felt so good. The ache inside me had morphed into something new and glorious, and I felt myself edging toward the release I desperately needed.

  Jackson kissed me and used his free hand to grip the back of my neck and hold me in place. I whimpered in his grasp as he bit my bottom lip and teased me, his fingers flicking upward inside me, his thumb pressing down on my clit. I shifted on the sill as my nerve endings screamed with pleasure.

  “Do you want to come?” he taunted.

  I nodded.

  “Let me hear you say it.”

  “I want it,” I said breathlessly. “I want to come.”

  He grinned like the devil. “Not yet.”

  Please.

  Jackson gripped my hips and pulled me down from the windowsill. Not knowing what he wanted, I stood in front of him and tried to kiss him, but with a hand in my hair, he guided me to my knees. I knelt, trapped between him and the wall at my back, while he used one hand to undo his belt. Once it was undone, he stood there expectantly and gave my head a sharp tug. The roots of my hair stung, but I got the message.

  I worked to free him from his jeans. His thick cock sprang from his boxers, which I left trapped around his thighs, and he wasted little time pushing his hips forward. I opened my mouth just in time and he pressed between my lips and slid across my tongue until he hit the back of my throat.

  I pushed against his thighs.

  Jackson let out a growl of pleasure above me. Looking up, I admired the sight of his naked torso basking in the morning sun streaming through my living room window. It bleached his hair almost white and he looked nearly angelic—or he would have if his cock wasn’t so deep in my throat that I couldn’t breathe.

  He pushed in deeper and I resisted until I realized it was futile.

  He’d told me he was a man who took what he wanted, and I wanted to give him just that, so I stopped pushing against his thighs and let him fuck my mouth with his hand in my hair and the wall at my back biting into my shoulder blades.

  After every session with Jackson I walked away with bruises. I didn’t mind. They reminded me of how good he could make me feel.

  I spread my legs and rubbed myself as he used my throat how he saw fit. He fucked me until it hurt—until I didn’t think my jaw could take much more. But it did. He fucked me until his cock was pulsing and every thrust could have been the last.

  Right when I thought he was about to finish he pulled back, gripped his cock, and pulled me to my feet by my hair. Breathless and damn near disoriented, I let him spin me around to face the window. The sun kissed my cheeks and warmed my skin as I ran the back of my hand across my mouth. I heard him tear open a condom wrapper and knew he was rolling it on seconds later.

  As I stood there betwee
n him and the window, fully exposed to anyone who might have walked by on the street below and happen to look up, my knees threatened to give out. Jackson patted the inside of my right thigh in silent demand to spread my legs farther.

  I did.

  He slapped my ass hard as he slid his cock inside me. I gripped the windowsill and strained against the pressure, but my body knew how to handle him and adjusted to his size. I arched my back and pressed my ass deeper against him.

  He leaned in close to my ear and chuckled deeply. “Be careful what you ask for.”

  I smiled despite the pain in my scalp as his grip in my hair tightened. “Do your worst.”

  Jackson released my hair and braced his forearm against my upper back, forcing me up against the window so ruthlessly that my breasts ached as they were crushed against the glass.

  Please don’t let anyone see me, I thought, even though the thrill of it caused a rush between my thighs unlike anything I’d ever felt before. The risk of getting caught lit a fire in me that had never burned so hot, and as Jackson bucked against me I whimpered and moaned and begged him to fuck me harder.

  He did. He slapped my ass and spread my cheeks apart. He spat between my cheeks and I felt fresh wetness as it trickled to his cock and he pushed it inside me. My grip on the windowsill tightened until my nails felt like they might pop of because of the pressure.

  Jackson pulled me a couple inches away from the window to let me breathe, only so he could reach up in front of me and squeeze my left breast. I shuddered against him as my climax built. He cooed in my ear that I was a good girl, and a dirty little slut, and that I deserved this.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Please what?”

  “Let me come.”

  He chuckled, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers pinching my nipple mercilessly. “Have you been holding back this whole time?”

  I nodded. He’d told me to. What did he expect?

  “Fuck,” he growled, abandoning my breast to reach up and grip my throat instead. His grip fastened until I could no longer draw breath. “You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

  I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes. Yes. Harder.

  Jackson buried himself in me over and over and his grip tightened until I saw stars. I broke. Everything I’d been holding on to left me in a rush and euphoria swallowed me whole. My mouth fell open in a silent cry of pleasure, and as I came Jackson gave in, too. He fucked me until he was finished, and finally he let me come up for air.

  Breathless and spent, he turned me back to him and away from the window. He wiped my smudged makeup from my cheeks, kissed me gently, and ran feather-light fingers over my throat.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

  Chapter 26

  Jackson

  Samantha hooked one long bare leg over mine as we lay on her bed. I stared up at her ceiling while she lay on her side tucked up against me, her blankets a crumpled mess all around us, her cat perched on the edge of the bed with his tail flicking from side to side.

  He most likely felt like I was in his spot again.

  Tough shit, cat. I earned this spot.

  Sam snuggled in a little closer and nuzzled her head under my chin. “Are you sure you have to leave? If you stay I could make you lunch. I make a pretty good grilled cheese.”

  “Don’t try to bribe me with food, woman. I have work to do today.”

  “Dangerous work?”

  Lying to her simply was not an option. She’d been through too much in the last twenty-four hours and I knew if I got caught spewing bullshit, she’d have my head.

  So I told the truth.

  “Well, I have to convince the boys to let Hogey Hughes back into the fold so we have access to his resources.”

  She propped her head up in one hand and her elbow sank into her pillow. “I was hoping you’d have changed your mind.”

  “Because you called him a weasel?”

  “Because he is a weasel.”

  “Sometimes you need a bad guy on your side to catch the other bad guy. Hogey’s too fucking stupid to be much of a threat. If he tries to orchestrate something behind my back he knows it will end badly for him. There’s probably only one person in this town that scares him more than Walter Bates, and that’s me.”

  She sighed. “If you say so. He already betrayed you once. All I’m saying is there’s nothing stopping him from doing it again. So just be careful, okay?”

  Be careful.

  Had my sister said those words to our brother on his last night alive? She said them to me often enough I found it hard to believe she hadn’t that night. William probably rode away with a wave thinking she was always worrying for nothing.

  Until he got shot.

  Sam ran her hand across my chest. “What are you thinking about?”

  “William,” I admitted.

  She nodded knowingly, like she knew the pain of losing a sibling—like it was comparable to losing a parent. They were each a unique sense of grief, and neither was worse than the other, but William’s death was a tragedy. It hit different.

  “I know you miss him,” she said softly.

  It wasn’t just that I missed him. He’d been dead for over two weeks now and I still hadn’t brought him the justice he deserved. I needed to start making headway. Otherwise the guilt would eat me alive.

  “Would William have approved of you going to Hogey for help?”

  Immediately, William’s voice filled my head.

  How fucking stupid are you, Jackson? Hogey will stab you in the back the first chance he gets. Fuck him and his greedy little hands. We’ll do this without him.

  With a smile, I shook my head. “No, I don’t think he would have approved. But dead brothers can’t bitch and moan, so if William is watching me right now, he can sit down and shut up.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes at me but indulged me with a laugh. “Nice. Real classy.”

  “William and I were never classy.”

  “True.” She rolled onto her stomach, fluffed her pillow up beneath her, and tucked it under herself so she could cross her arms over it and rest her chin on the back of her hands. “Why did you start the Devil’s Luck?”

  “Where did that come from?”

  “I’m just curious. What compels a man to want to start his own club of rowdy bikers?”

  “A love for the road,” I said.

  “It’s more than that.”

  Turning on my side to face her, I rested a hand on her bare ass. “I suppose it is. It was a combination of things really. My brother and I were under the heel of the government and in over our heads having to pay off our parents’ debt after they passed. Turns out our old man had been evading tax collectors for a long time by putting his sons’ names on titles for his cars and the house. Everything he owed, we had to pay. We just didn’t make good enough money tinkering on cars at Grant’s shop. So, when William started talking about doing things our way and smuggling some weapons through town, it got me thinking. The Devil’s Luck were never supposed to stick around. We were supposed to dissolve after a few years once we’d lined our pockets.”

  Sam watched me with knowing eyes and a sly smile. “But you fell in love with it, didn’t you?”

  Yes, I had fallen in love with it. I’d fallen in love with the freedom that came along with being a man in leather that nobody else wanted to fuck with. Not even the cops. Once we made a name for ourselves, all of Reno knew to stay off our radar. If they left us alone, we’d leave them alone. We fought for and protected what was ours and we often rose to the occasion when locals ran into trouble and needed help, but for the most part we kept to ourselves.

  Until now, at least.

  “If we’d disbanded like we were supposed to, William would still be alive,” I said.

  Samantha sighed. “Yes, he probably would be. But would he have been happy?”

  That was an impossible question to answer, so I merely shrugged and gave her ass a little squeeze.

 
Sam lifted her feet off the bed and crossed her ankles. “And the SEALS? What made you want to join the military? For a guy who was chasing freedom it sure seems like a strange choice.”

  Another fair question, and another one that was hard to answer.

  “I was lost,” I admitted. “The club fulfilled a part of me, but it also cost me something.”

  She frowned and lifted her chin from her hands. “Cost you what?”

  “A part of my soul. I crossed lines, Sam. A lot of them. I did things to and for people that I never thought I would. Joining the military? I don’t know. It felt like an atonement for the things I’d done and couldn’t take back. It wasn’t wiping the slate clean, but it was a way for me to pay it forward for my country.”

  “Did it work?”

  I watched her quietly.

  She snuggled up against me, her breasts hot and soft against my ribs. “Did it help you atone?”

  My eyes shifted to the bedroom ceiling as the sounds of machine guns roared in my ears, and my fellow soldiers screamed for aid. “No, it didn’t help.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “That you gave up so much for something that didn’t end up being what you hoped it would.”

  I pulled her in close and stole several sweet kisses. Her eyelids were heavy with fatigue, her cheeks rosy from all the things I’d done to her, her makeup smudged in the corners of her eyes.

  She was so damn beautiful.

  “I’ve made my peace with who I am,” I told her.

  “And who is that?”

  “A fighter.”

  Her lips turned down in a frown. “You’re more than that, Jackson.”

  “Nah. All I’ve ever been good at is throwing punches.” I chuckled. “I’m fairly good at taking them too, I guess. William used to try to beat the shit out of me once he grew big enough to handle himself in a fight, but he’d always lose. Drove him fucking crazy. I let him win a handful of times just so I didn’t have to hear him complaining about how hard on him I was.”