If he was, then it was because the incident in the street just now had, quite literally, brought him to the end of his patience. With this situation. With trying to hold Jenna at arm’s length.
This morning, she had wanted him to prove how wanted she was?
Well, Jenna was very shortly going to be given the choice of how and in what way she wanted him to prove that to her.
Atticus had begun to second-guess himself by the time they reached his apartment.
Jenna had immediately disappeared to shower—he didn’t have a single doubt it would be in his bathroom—and change out of her work clothes. Giving Atticus the time to check that Ben and their reluctant guest had arrived safely at the Steele Protectors offices. Which they had, although Worthington was apparently still strongly protesting at being denied his freedom.
As far as Atticus was concerned, the other man could carry on protesting. He wasn’t going anywhere until Atticus felt completely sure Worthington was no threat to Jenna.
No one, absolutely no one, messed with or upset Jenna in the way she had been scared earlier this evening.
None of which did anything to settle the disquiet Atticus felt regarding what was going to happen in the next few minutes.
It went completely against his face-a-problem-head-on nature to back down in this way, but maybe that was what he needed to do this time.
It would make him appear weak in Jenna’s eyes to do so, but maybe that was a small price to pay for maintaining the current status quo between the two of them?
Jenna was upset. Frightened. Nervous about Worthington’s motives for approaching her earlier. The last thing she needed was—
“Okay, I’m back and ready to hear about these choices you intend giving me.”
Holy fucking hell!
Atticus could only stare at Jenna, impossible to speak when his mouth had gone as dry as the Sahara.
Her hair was now loose about her shoulders. She’d changed into a white camisole top that only just covered the bare breasts beneath, the pink nipples clearly visible through the thin material. Lounge sweats rested so low down, he could clearly see the bare skin covering her hipbones between where the camisole top ended and those sweats began. He could also see the outline of the cleft between her thighs, telling him Jenna either wasn’t wearing any panties or else she wore the tiniest thong ever created. Either way, the camisole top and sweats only emphasized rather than covered Jenna’s curves beneath.
A nerve pulsed in Atticus’s clenched jaw. “You aren’t wearing those clothes when Logan gets here.”
Her brows rose. “You would rather I was naked?”
Atticus ground his back teeth together. However scared and upset Jenna had been earlier, she had clearly recovered. The light of challenge was back in her eyes as she met his gaze, confirming that impression. “Internet off or a spanked arse,” he grated between clenched teeth.
“Or…?”
His lids narrowed. “What makes you think there’s a third choice?”
Because Jenna sensed there was one. She could almost feel that third option dancing unspoken between the two of them. Not that she wouldn’t be happy to settle for the smacked arse, but there was something in Atticus’s strained expression that told her there was more. That she could have more.
“Well?” she challenged.
A nerve pulsed in his jaw. “What would you like the third option to be?”
Another one of those moments of truth. And Jenna was going to take it this time. She had thought about the situation while she was showering and changing her clothes and decided she no longer had anything to lose. If she allowed things to carry on drifting in this way between them, then Atticus was going to have her moved back into her apartment before he left the country again on another job for Steele Protectors, before she had a chance to catch her breath.
Her chin rose, and she met his gaze head-on. “Kisses.”
“Kisses?”
She smiled at Atticus’s stunned expression. “Well, I would rather it was more than kisses, but suggesting those seems to have shocked you enough for one evening.”
“You would rather…!” He thrust his hands into the pockets of his combat trousers. “Are you aware of exactly what you’re asking? I’m a grown-ass man, Jenna, not one of those pansy-assed boys you usually date.”
Color warmed her cheeks. “How do you know what sort of men I usually date?”
“You brought two of them, separately, thank God, to a couple of Mum and Dad’s informal Sunday barbecues,” he reminded in a hard voice. “One of them looked as if he would jump out of his skin if any of us so much as said boo to him, and the other one thought so much of himself that I wanted to ram his silver spoon up his arse.”
The heat in her cheeks deepened. Rory had behaved like a privileged pain in the ass. With very little reason. Joanne and Simon were extremely wealthy, and although they might not look it, Steele Protectors had ensured all the Steele brothers were millionaires several times over. “Then maybe you should show me how a grown-ass man kisses?”
Atticus breathed out noisily. “I fail to see how that could be classed as chastisement for your smart mouth.”
“Full of yourself much?” she taunted before sobering. “Logically—”
“I haven’t heard anything in the least logical coming out of your mouth in the past five minutes!”
Her eyes narrowed. “Logically,” she repeated firmly. “The reason for my smart mouth was because I was upset and feeling unwanted.”
“I told you that isn’t the case.”
“Well, kissing me is a way you could prove that to me.”
“You really think my kissing you is going to do that?”
“Well…yes.” She could have added a duh on there, but in the interest of peace refrained from doing so. “Five kisses, Atticus,” she challenged.
Atticus couldn’t even remember the last time he’d kissed a woman. Kissing was…intimate. Intensely personal. In some ways, even more so than sex. Because the raunchy sex he preferred was always a means to an end for him, a pleasurable way of easing some tension. Atticus always made sure the woman he was with knew that, and ensured she enjoyed that release as much as he did. But kissing her? He tended to avoid doing that.
“Oh just forget I asked,” Jenna flounced at his continued silence. “I’ll settle for you turning off the fucking internet or smacking my arse—” She broke off with a surprised squeak as Atticus pulled her into his arms and his mouth came crashing down onto hers.
This was a mistake of major proportions, was Atticus’s first thought.
Fucking perfect, was his second.
Jenna’s lips were both warm and responsive, and once he had plunged his tongue between those parted lips Atticus discovered she tasted of her mint-flavored toothpaste and a heady sweetness that went straight to his rapidly hardening cock.
Her body felt soft and utterly feminine as he continued to kiss her while his hands caressed the length of her spine—confirming she wasn’t wearing a bra—and the roundness of her bottom—confirming she wasn’t wearing panties or a thong either. Jenna’s warmth and softness was in complete contrast to her character, which was all hard edges and spitting defiance.
Atticus couldn’t resist licking and nibbling on that bottom lip Jenna so often pouted at him, the catch in her breath telling him how much she liked it.
His cock gave a throb of approval when Jenna did the same to him, sucking his bottom lip into the heat of her mouth, her tiny teeth biting just short of pain before her tongue licked away the sting.
Atticus was aware of nothing but Jenna and this moment. Of lips and teeth and the ragged sound and heat of their breathing as they continued to devour each other.
“One,” she murmured breathily when Atticus’s lips kissed and bit the length of her throat.
He gave a chuff of laughter against her skin. “That was more than one kiss.”
“I’m only counting it as one.”
“Then maybe I should be the on
e doing the counting.”
“My way is more fun.”
This woman really would be the death of him.
Because, no matter how much Atticus tried to convince himself otherwise, told himself he shouldn’t be doing this, right now Jenna was proving how much of a woman she was. A passionate, highly sensual woman more than capable of giving all that he demanded.
He placed a hand either side of her face, holding her gaze with his as he tilted her face up so he could lick and bite her delectable lips.
“Touch me, Atticus,” she groaned.
“I am touching you.”
“No, really touch me.” She grasped one of his hands in hers and moved it slowly downward until his palm was cupped about one of her barely covered breasts. “Like that,” she encouraged. “Please don’t make me beg, Atticus.”
That almost broken plea was his complete undoing as, with a snarl, he gave up trying to fight taking what he really wanted.
He moved back slightly so that his hands could grasp the bottom of Jenna’s camisole, lifting it up over her breasts before pulling it off completely and discarding it.
Jenna’s breasts were heavy but firm and uptilting against her other slenderness, and tipped with the pale pink areola and nipples Atticus had imagined them as being.
He lowered his head to gently kiss and rasp his tongue over each of those nipples in turn, head tilted back slightly as he watched them engorge to twice their normal size before capturing one completely in his mouth and sucking hard.
Jenna thought her knees were going to give up any attempt to support her the moment Atticus’s lips touched her nipples, and she had to quickly grasp hold of his shoulders as he began to suckle and bite each nipple in turn. The pleasure went straight to her core, causing her channel to clench and the juices to slick her nether lips.
She was completely lost in that pleasure as Atticus swung her up in his arms and carried her across the room. Her own arms moved up about his shoulders as he placed her on one of the sofas before coming down on top of her, making her fully aware of his hard and throbbing desire against her thighs as he continued sucking and biting her nipples, his long hair an added caress against her highly sensitized flesh.
This was what she had dreamed of, fantasized about for years, and she inwardly pleaded for this never to stop. For Atticus never to stop touching and pleasuring her.
She gave a low groan as he moved slightly to one side and one of his hands moved to cup over her mound, knowing he would be able to feel the heat and dampness there through the thin material of her sweats.
Her moan turned to a gasp when the heat of that hand slipped beneath her sweats and the palm pressed rhythmically against her throbbing clit, his fingers lightly caressing along her slick and swollen nether lips.
Her fingers became entangled in the dark silkiness of his hair. “More,” she pleaded, hips undulating against those stroking fingers. “Oh God, please, Atticus,” she begged in the way she had said she didn’t want to.
He raised his head to look down at her with eyes so dark, it was impossible to see where the iris began and the black pupil ended, before his head lowered and he captured her mouth in a completely devouring kiss.
A kiss like Jenna had never known before. So full of passion, demand, control, she instantly realized exactly why Atticus didn’t have a kink. He didn’t need one when he could take complete control of a woman, of her, with just his mouth.
She groaned as she felt one of his fingers edging the opening of her channel, stroking and caressing but never quite entering that grasping emptiness as Jenna wanted, needed him to. Nor could she ask for him to do so when she didn’t want to give up the ecstasy of having his mouth continuing to devour hers. Lips taking, tongue thrusting and claiming, teeth biting.
She— “No!” she cried out in protest as Atticus ripped his mouth from hers and removed his hand from inside her sweats, a frown between her eyes as she saw his single-minded attention was no longer fixed on her as he scowled across the room. “Atticus, what—” She broke off at the sound of the buzzing of the internal phone, obviously the reason for Atticus’s distraction.
“Logan and August have arrived.” Atticus pushed up and away from her before standing, his eyes dark and unreadable slits as he looked down at her from between hooded lids. “You need to go and put some other clothes on before I let them up here. Ones that don’t say, Fuck me. Right now,” he added as she frowned.
Jenna felt the warmth of color in her cheeks as she stood up to grab her camisole top from the floor and hold it in front of her. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
His brows rose. “Telling you to change before Logan got here wasn’t me complaining?”
“That was before, I meant…after.”
His jaw clenched. “This is fucking after. Now go to your room and put some different clothes on.”
Jenna fought an inner battle with herself. Her emotions were warring between wanting Atticus to kiss her again and wanting to tell him to go to hell. Luckily, the second insistent buzzing of the internal phone made the decision for her. “Yes, Daddy,” she taunted and was rewarded with Atticus’s warning growl before she turned her bare back on him and sauntered from the room, hips swaying provocatively.
Chapter 5
Letting Logan and August up to his apartment was a stark reminder to Atticus of who and what Jenna was. Not only was she his unofficially adopted sister, she was also August’s best friend, and August was soon going to be Atticus’s sister-in-law. For him to even think of starting something with Jenna, and for it to then go wrong, would cause a rift in his family that would never heal.
Starting something with her?
What the hell had just now been if not starting something with her?
Then he would have to put a stop to it again. Distance himself from her.
Except he had no idea how to even go about doing that after kissing and touching her so intimately.
Atticus thought he at least had his desire under control by the time Logan and August came up to the apartment. Until Jenna joined them a few minutes later, wearing low-rider slim-fitting denims and a thin sweater the same color as her eyes, and his cock immediately surged to full attention.
“Is that a cucumber in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see us?” Logan mocked with a pointed glance at Atticus’s hard-on once the two women had gone to the kitchen to unpack the cartons of Chinese food they had brought with them. “Or no…the cucumber didn’t appear until Jenna came into the room. Something you want to talk about, big brother?”
“Fuck off,” Atticus snarled as he avoided meeting Logan’s equally mocking gaze. “I have to go out. Could you stay with Jenna until I get back?”
“August is staying here with Jenna, I’m going with you,” Logan drawled. “Anthony is on guard downstairs.” He named another of the men who worked for Steele Protectors.
“No—”
“Yes,” Logan overrode his protest. “I contacted the brothers. Bryce is obviously in the States, but Lucan, Rourke, and Haydn will be meeting us there.”
“What the hell…?”
His brother shrugged. “I was still in the office earlier when Ben arrived with our…guest. You aren’t interrogating him alone, Atticus.”
He gave a snort. “I don’t need four of my brothers as backup. The guy looks as if he’ll fall over if I so much as breathe on him.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “The added protection is for him, not you.”
Atticus stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Considering the amount of time it took you to let us up here and your appearance when we arrived, I would say you aren’t exactly a disinterested party in all this.”
Atticus ran a hand through the length of his hair. “What’s wrong with my appearance?”
Logan gave a pointed glance at the plain gold watch on his wrist. “The cucumber in your pocket aside, I don’t think we have enough time right now for me to even start answering tha
t question,” he mocked. “Enough that I can say you look as if you’ve been dragged through several hedges and that you and Jenna weren’t so much as making eye contact just now before she went to the kitchen with August.”
Because Atticus had wanted Jenna so badly earlier that he hadn’t given a damn about anything else. Not her relationship to his family. Not her friendship with August. He had just wanted his cock buried inside Jenna’s silky heat. If Logan and August hadn’t arrived when they had, he knew he would have gone there too.
Jenna might have thought she was playing another one of her let’s-tease-Atticus games, but she had woken a beast inside him he was no longer sure he could keep under control.
“Atticus?”
“Fine, come with me. All of you can fucking be there,” he snapped. “But I’ll still be the one asking the questions.”
“There are a few questions I’d like you to answer on the way there…”
“Not happening.”
“She’s August’s best friend, Atticus.”
“I’m aware of who and what Jenna is.”
“Then the question is, what is she to you?”
Atticus’s nostrils flared. “Stay out of my business, Logan. I mean it,” he growled as Logan would have spoken again. “All of you, just butt out.”
Logan held up his hands in surrender. “August isn’t going to let you off so easily if you hurt her friend.”
“Then I suggest you get your woman under control, because I’m not answerable to her either. Can we go now?” he snapped. “Because I have someone I need to interrogate.” He didn’t wait to see if Logan followed him as he left the apartment.
“Did you and Atticus…?”
“No!” The blush that heated Jenna’s cheeks instantly gave lie to her protest. “Not completely, no,” she amended awkwardly.
“But you probably would have if Logan and I hadn’t arrived when we did?” August probed gently.
Jenna wasn’t exactly surprised by her friend’s interest now that Atticus and Logan had left the apartment. “Probably. Maybe.” She gave up all pretense of trying to eat any of the Chinese food from the cartons they had put out on the breakfast bar in Atticus’s kitchen. “I have no idea what would have happened if you and Logan hadn’t interrupted.”
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