by Jewel E. Ann
“All?” Luke raised his brows.
“No, not all. I’ll see you tomorrow. I gave you three months of my soul and then you tried to dump me. So for that you are not absolved.”
“First, it is ‘tomorrow,’ second, I have yet to see your soul, and third, I didn’t dump you.”
The soul comment stung a bit. She couldn’t blame him. It was possible she no longer had a soul to be seen. “I must look like a sewer rat.”
“What?”
Jessica blew a stray hair from her face. “Me. I need a shower…” she whipped the sheet off her legs, exposing the mottling of road rash “…and then there’s the ugly that won’t disappear any time soon. But you’ve never looked better. You probably need a shower, but I swear to God I can still smell that soap or cologne of yours, and your hair has escaped the confines of its normal gel coating and it’s giving me inappropriate thoughts. I go from visually tolerable to offensive and you go from GQ to Sports Illustrated.”
“Jessica, you look fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you mean white boy fine, not like when a brother says his woman looks real fine.”
“I am white and you’re not my woman.”
Her gaze slipped. Luke was perceptive and always stated the obvious as if she was somehow always missing it. “Thanks for staying, but you can go now.”
“I’ll get your doctor to release you, then I’ll take you home.”
When he left the room, Jessica closed her eyes. “You’re killing me, Jones.” There was never a magic wand around when she needed one. With a few waves and some magical words she would be normal and irresistible in his eyes. Her whole I-make-men-bleed-because-I-watched-someone-murder-my-best-friend thing was really getting in the way of the whole I-need-Jones-in-my-bed-NOW thing.
“Jessica, how are you feeling this morning?” Her doctor and his nurse filed in the room with Luke behind them.
“I feel and look like roadkill.”
“Nothing that won’t heal over time,” her doctor reassured her with a kind smile.
“I don’t know, my ego took quite a hit.”
Luke glanced up from his phone, biting back a grin.
Cheeky bastard.
The doctor checked her over then released her. Luke waited outside while she dressed.
“Ready?” he asked as the nurse wheeled Jessica down the hall against her will.
She nodded. “Did you call a cab?”
“No. Gabe and Kelly brought my car last night. Then they took yours home. Nice friends we have.” He relieved the nurse of her chauffeur duties and pushed her to the elevator.
“The best.” Jessica nodded.
In the elevator she glanced up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re studying me.”
Luke chuckled as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “Probably because I am.”
“Have you figured me out yet?”
“Not completely.”
“And when you do?”
“Then I’ll have to start doing my own cleaning again.”
Jessica held her breath to keep from gasping. His words were a means to an end. She’d come to rely on her time with him, not his professional knowledge … him.
“What will you do without me to entertain you?” She controlled each word, stripping them of the nervous emotion they wanted to convey.
“Whatever I want.”
The elevator doors opened. He pushed her to the entrance as her shoulders sagged in a slump of defeat.
“Wait here. I’ll pull my car around.”
Jessica stood and waited by the curb; her mind reeled with panic. Luke was supposed to be her incentive to get better, find normalcy again. If getting better meant saying goodbye to Luke, then the incentive was gone.
She looked up as the vibrating roar of an engine approached. “What. The. Hell?”
A cherry red, mint condition 1967 Pontiac GTO pulled to a stop. It was the ultimate car porn and Jessica nearly convulsed right there on the spot. The driver’s window cranked a turn. “Get in, Jessica. It’s not a date.”
She feathered her fingertips along the shiny chrome handle then opened the heavy door. Jessica felt Luke’s eyes on her as she closed hers and slinked into the black leather seat, one slow inch at a time. “400 cubic inches … 360 horsepower … I’m in love,” she whispered.
“Sorry, it’s not a Jetta—”
“Shh! Don’t—don’t ruin this moment for me.”
Luke laughed a little. “I thought you’d like her. Buckle up.”
She opened her eyes and fastened her seat belt. “You’re going to let me drive her, right?”
He shifted into first and eased up on the clutch. “Not a chance.”
Chapter Nineteen
Knight
Days passed and again it appeared as though AJ had vanished. Jillian helped with the grounds upkeep during the day and sold battery-operated sex by night. She took punishing runs sometimes as late as midnight and sparred with Jackson until her bones melted into jelly under her fatigued muscles.
While her brother seemed to be flourishing in his role as Jackson Knight, Jillian warred with her emotions until her world spiraled on the edge of control. She hated Luke for making her love him. She hated Jackson for making her live. She hated AJ for making her care.
“Great night for a ride,” Stan hollered over the rumble of her Harley’s engine.
Jillian smiled and slipped on her helmet, grateful for a night to herself.
“I’ll leave the notes from the association meeting here on your work bench.”
She nodded again then pulled out of her garage. With less-than-perfect timing, AJ made an appearance. Getting out of his jeep, he signaled for her to stop. Jillian flipped him the bird and kept going with a fuck-all-men attitude that had been brewing for months. They weren’t necessary anyway, and she had a catalog full of PPDs to prove it.
Shortly after finding some open road she tracked a black jeep in her mirror. A full tank of gas assured she wouldn’t be stopping to listen to his meaningless words for many miles. AJ followed her, keeping a safe distance for close to two hours before she stopped at a lookout point up a gravel road atop a bluff.
“I’m not in the mood,” Jillian said as she pulled off her helmet, looking out over miles of grassy terrain in the shadows of the sunset.
AJ stood behind her, keeping his distance. “I’m sorry.”
His words brushed her nerves like sandpaper. “I’m not. I only regret not actually breaking your nose and a couple of ribs.”
“Jill—”
“Don’t!” She turned. “Go fuck somebody else today. I’m not in the mood for your crap.”
“I’m not your knight in shining armor.” AJ pumped his fists. He did it often.
Of course he wasn’t. Her knight wore argyle socks. “I’m not Cinderella.”
The tension between them built. It always did. It was undeniable, uncontrollable, and unpredictable.
“I hurt my wife,” AJ gritted each word through clenched teeth. It was pain woven with anger.
“I hurt everyone I touch.” She spoke with resolution, stating a fact without apology. Acquitting herself of responsibility came too easy. She surprised herself with just how well those old victim’s shoes fit.
“I’ll hurt you.” He swallowed hard, each breath coming faster.
“I’d like to see you try.” She took two long strides and fisted his T-shirt, pulling him to her lips.
The kiss was hard, sensual, and desperate. Their hands warred as each fought for the other one’s clothes—pushing, pulling, tugging. AJ lifted her up to his waist and she wrapped her legs around him. Leaving her black jacket and both of their shirts in the dirt, he shuffled to the passenger’s side of his jeep with his jeans at his ankles.
“You…” he breathed heavily setting her sideways in the passenger’s seat “…I need to fuck you today.”
Jillian’s eyes flitted between her hand and the large muscles of his torso and arms flexed like steel as he rocked his pelvis towards her. The high that shot through her veins from seeing him like that was dangerously intoxicating. But it didn’t satiate her need to make him bleed, and for that she felt a pang of nostalgia as Luke’s voice seeped from her conscience.
AJ’s eyes grew heavy as she tightened her grip, circling her thumb over the engorged head of his erection. “I’m going to make you bleed and then you can fuck me,” she whispered, and for the first time her words held an edge of regret … a breath of shame. Once again, he made her care.
He met her gaze, brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, then nodded once as he slid his hand behind her head and claimed her mouth. Only a self-loathing man would offer himself to a monster. She clawed at his skin as though the earth was trying to bury her alive—desperate, lost. AJ released her mouth as she gasped for air a split second before digging her teeth into the muscled flesh of his shoulder.
Not a flinch, not a sound, just a statue of strength, AJ let her teeth melt into him. Like the air that filled her starving lungs, she felt the reprieve—the control she needed. The wet crimson smeared along his skin as she laid a gentle kiss on his neck.
“Now?” he whispered.
“Now.”
AJ flipped open the glove compartment, retrieved a condom, and rolled it on. “I’m sorry … I can’t be gentle today.”
Jillian scooted to the edge of the seat and spread her legs wide. “I know.”
*
Jillian left AJ without a word. The guilt on his face said enough. Truth? He was somebody’s knight in shining armor. Luke had once said people are exactly what they say they’re not. Expectations demand accountability and accountability only matters in the presence of another. Denial is the road to solitude.
On the long ride home under a shimmering canopy of stars and in the watchful headlights of a black Jeep, Jillian contemplated her own accountability. By the time her bike was covered and her hand was reaching for the door handle to her house, the answer came to her. Jillian pushed the button to the garage door and raced out, jumping over the beam. She looked up and froze. AJ stood in his driveway, hands shoved into his pockets, a heartbreaking mix of sadness and relief stealing his handsome features.
“This is a mistake,” he said as his gaze sank to the concrete.
Something so dark resided in AJ that at times she swore she felt it bleeding from his soul. “An epic mistake.” Jillian ran into his arms.
It was a crushing embrace. She’d never felt anyone cling to her like their life depended on it. AJ needed her, maybe even more than she needed him. She physically needed him. He emotionally needed her.
“I’m due for an epic mistake.”
AJ released her and cradled her face. “Me too.” He smirked. “Stay…” he brushed his lips across hers “…stay with me tonight.”
Blood surged through her heart like a freight train in her chest as she willed herself to take a few slow breaths to suppress the fear. You’re Jillian Knight. Fin de journée.
“Okay,” she whispered.
She felt like a child when he took her petite hand in his. AJ was strong and towered over her small stature. Any other woman would have felt protected in his presence, but not Jillian. She experienced a constant rush of adrenaline, a need to stay alert that could not be tamed. The feeling was equally exhilarating and exhausting.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She smiled. Hospitable AJ was charming.
“Wine? Beer?”
“Beer, please.”
“Not a wine drinker?” AJ grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator.
Jillian’s smile faded a bit. “No, I’m not into wine.” It was the truth. Jillian Knight did not drink wine.
They stood in the kitchen leaning against opposing counters while an awkward silence settled over them.
“Maybe we should drink our beers naked.”
AJ choked in the middle of his long pull.
She grinned. “Only because we seem to be more comfortable with each other when we’re naked.”
AJ scanned her body with a stormy look brewing in his eyes as he set his beer down. “I do want you naked, beneath me, in my bed.” He pushed off the counter and ran his hands through her hair as his lips descended to hers.
Jillian reacted to him with a feral hunger. She pushed his shirt up until he grabbed it, breaking their kiss for a split second as it brushed past his face. He squeezed her breasts through her shirt and she moaned into his mouth, her hands making haste to unfasten his jeans. Then … the doorbell rang.
“Fuck!” His forehead pressed against hers. “Don’t. Move.”
She nodded as the moist heat from their labored breathing lingered between them. Her legs felt weak when he released her to answer the door.
“Surprise!” A female voice that Jillian couldn’t quite place filled the air.
“Carin,” he choked on her name.
Jillian found her legs and peeked around the corner. Carin stood at AJ’s door in a long black trench coat that hung open revealing her red lingerie including a garter belt, black stockings, and stilettos. Carin eyed AJ’s bare chest with a look that made Jillian want to do physical harm to her.
“Looks like you were thinking about me too.” Carin wet her lips as she stared at AJ’s unfastened jeans.
“Uh …” AJ buttoned his jeans and yanked up the zipper “…did we have plans I forgot about?”
Carin stepped inside forcing AJ to retreat a step. “No, silly … hence the surprise.” She shrugged off her coat, letting it pool at her feet.
“You seemed distracted the last time I saw you. It was the first time we didn’t…” she bit her lip “…you know. So I thought I’d spice it up a bit.”
“I told you last time the arrangement is no longer working for me.”
“But why?” She released her bottom lip into a pouty frown.
“Well, what a pleasant surprise.” Jillian stepped around the corner.
Carin froze.
“Carin with a C, don’t you look irresistible tonight.” Jillian wedged herself between AJ and Carin.
“I told you to wait in the kitchen,” AJ gritted.
“Victoria’s Secret?” Jillian asked as she ran her finger along Carin’s satin bra strap.
Carin shivered, eyes wide.
“How do you feel about being on the bottom?” Jillian sucked in her bottom lip.
Carin’s gaze shot to AJ.
“Because Sarge thinks he’s going to have me beneath him … but I’m never on the bottom.” Jillian turned to face a disgruntled AJ. “Will this be your first threesome, Senior … Master … Sergeant?” Jillian traced her fingertips along his firm abs.
“Are—are you with her, AJ?” Although weak, Carin found her voice.
When AJ and Jillian looked at each other, a half-naked Carin ceased to exist. Carin was the innocent party, and Jillian would have felt bad, but the truth was … Carin was normal and deserved better.
“I’m his mistake,” Jillian teased her fingers below his navel, keeping her eyes locked to his.
“An epic mistake,” AJ whispered.
“Well … I-I can’t do this. I’m not that type of girl.” Carin slipped on her coat and cinched the tie. Without another word she scurried down the drive to her car.
AJ kicked the door shut and had Jillian lifted with her back
pressed against it before a coherent thought could form in her head or an audible word could escape her lips. Her hands slid up his neck and her fingers curled craving a fist full of hair, but his buzz cut denied her every attempt. He kissed her neck while an uncontrolled groan rumbled from his chest. Hugging her to him, he carried her to his bedroom. Before he set her down, she placed her palms on his cheeks until he looked at her.
“I will not be beneath you.” She swallowed a lump of anxiety. How could one person be so messed-up? She knew he wasn’t going to hurt her, but for some reason what she knew, what she felt, and what she feared were all at war.
His eyes searched hers. “I don’t give a fuck about gravity when I’m inside you.” He kissed her, drowning all her senses with his lingering words, his intoxicating taste, his powerful body flesh to hers. He sat on the bed and leaned back with Jillian straddling him.
*
AJ slept. Jillian did not, although exhaustion fought to pull her under. The more the voice in her head tried to convince her to close her eyes, the crazier she began to feel. She slid off his chest.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled with his eyes shut. Jillian questioned if he was really awake.
“Bathroom,” she whispered, grabbing her clothes off the floor. The reflection in the bathroom mirror still looked like a stranger. Dark roots pushed past the platinum blond, a reminder that she needed to schedule a hair appointment. Her tan line reflected the short denim shorts she wore while mowing instead of the bikini bottom lines Jessica Day used to have.
AJ’s chest rose and fell with deep even breaths as she peeked around the corner. Jillian didn’t want to leave. She wanted to feel his naked body next to hers in the morning. She wanted to share coffee and discover the labyrinth of detail that made him the man he’d become, but she was too tired and too weak to crawl back into his bed.
Tiptoeing up the stairs, she pushed open the door on her right. It was Cage’s room. Behind the locked door, she slid between his sheets, then she set her phone’s alarm to five a.m. and fell asleep.