Atticus (steele Protectors 2)
Page 7
His mouth twisted into a humorless smile when August continued to eye him suspiciously. “I promise I am not about to be arrogant or cruel, or lose my temper.”
Jenna gave a scathing snort. “That would be a first!”
Atticus was too relieved to see her here and safe to take exception to her skepticism. She was a little pale, that pallor emphasizing the freckles across her nose and cheeks, but otherwise, Jenna looked as stunningly beautiful as always in a thin green sweater that matched the color of her eyes, and black low-rider skinny-fitting jeans. Her long hair was a silky soft curtain of red with natural cinnamon highlights running through it.
“Please, August,” he prompted huskily.
August gave Jenna’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll just be in the sitting room. Making my feelings known to my fiancé regarding disloyalty to friends,” she added with a warning glance at a still completely unperturbed Logan.
Atticus waited until he and Jenna were alone, the kitchen door closed by Logan, before speaking again. “I owe you an apology.”
Jenna had been psyching herself up for yet another argument with Atticus, so much so that she could now only stare at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.
He gave a rueful smile at her obvious shock. “Yeah, it’s something I don’t do often enough,” he drawled before sobering. “I’m everything you said I was. I was arrogant last night regarding your decision to release Worthington. In a temper when I stormed off. Then cruel with my words when I got back to my apartment.” He took a step farther into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean the things I said to you, Jenna.”
She continued to eye him warily as she gave a slow shake of her head. “Everything you said was the truth.”
He winced. “But I still shouldn’t have said them.”
She shrugged. “I am softhearted. I do have nightmares. I don’t particularly like being alone anymore. But I’ll get better at it,” she stated firmly as Atticus would have spoken. “And more quickly by being back in my own apartment than continuing to stay at yours. I’m not a victim, Atticus.” Her chin rose. “I refuse to ever become one.”
Atticus admired Jenna more in that moment than he ever had before. And he had thought she was pretty spectacular, a survivor rather than a victim, before this.
He took another step toward her. “You still have an outstanding debt to pay.”
She blinked at the sudden change of subject. “I didn’t think… I should have offered… How much rent money do I owe you for staying at your apartment the past three weeks?”
“If I was to allow my foul temper free rein, that remark would have set it off.” Instead, for once, Atticus forced himself to remain calm. “I wasn’t talking about you paying me rent, Jenna,” he added softly.
She frowned her puzzlement. “Then what?”
“I believe you still owe me three kisses.”
Color instantly blazed in her cheeks, her throat moving as she swallowed before speaking. “Three kisses?”
He nodded. “We only reached the count of two before we were interrupted.”
Jenna could only stare at him, not sure what to make of this conversation. She had thought that what happened between her and Atticus earlier yesterday evening was something he would rather forget and certainly never want to talk about. And yet here he was, asking for the three remaining kisses she’d demanded he give her to show she was wanted.
Well, later events had overtaken those two kisses, making the other three superfluous.
Besides, what they had done together had been so much more than kiss.
She gave a shake of her head. “It was just a game, Atticus.”
“Really?” he challenged.
She sighed. “One with no winner, only losers.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Atticus stood directly in front of her now, so close it was possible for Jenna to smell the citrus body wash she had so often seen when she used his bathroom. “What do you think would have happened if Logan and August hadn’t arrived?”
Jenna refused to back down, no matter how disturbed she was by his close proximity. “Well, going on our past history, I’m sure one of us would have said something unforgiveable and the whole thing would have blown up in our faces.”
“By one of us, you mean me?” Atticus reached out to push a tress of her long hair behind her ear.
Jenna pulled back from that intimacy. “No, I mean one of us,” she said wearily. “I’m just as guilty of baiting and tormenting you until you lose your temper.” For so many years, it had been the only way she could get any reaction out of Atticus. So much so, it had become habit rather than necessity? Jenna didn’t know anymore. She just knew they had to stop hurting each other. “I accept your apology, Atticus. Now could you please go?”
“No.”
Jenna closed her eyes, not sure how much longer she could continue this conversation before she began to cry.
It hadn’t been easy to leave Atticus earlier this morning. To walk out of his apartment and know she might never walk back in again. To accept that there would never be a reason for her to do so. But she had done it anyway, knowing she had no choice if she was to hold on to any of the pride she had left.
But now Atticus was here and forcing her to go through leaving him a second time.
Chapter 8
“Three kisses, Jenna,” Atticus repeated softly.
Her eyes narrowed. “They’re superfluous when I already know the answer to my original question.”
His brows rose. “You do?”
She noisily breathed out her frustration. “You don’t want me, you’re just a controlling jerk who doesn’t like being disobeyed or questioned. Well, guess what? I no longer give a damn— Oof!” All the breath was knocked out of Jenna’s lungs when Atticus placed one steely arm about her waist to pull her hard against his muscular chest. “What the—” Her words were cut off abruptly as Atticus’s other hand cupped the side of her face and his mouth took possession of hers.
It was as if no time had passed or angry words exchanged since the last time Atticus kissed her, the heat and desire instantaneous as Atticus’s mouth proceeded to devour and claim hers.
Jenna’s arms moved up about his neck, her fingers becoming entangled in his long dark hair as she met and returned that heated demand, their previous argument completely forgotten.
Desire blazed through Jenna with the force and speed of a forest fire, and she could feel the rigid length of Atticus’s aroused cock against her abdomen.
Jenna pressed nearer still, wanting even closer contact as their tongues dueled and stroked, igniting sparks of pleasure that caused her nipples to engorge and between her thighs to burn.
They were both breathing heavily by the time Atticus ended the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. “Can we go home now and finish this in private?”
Jenna looked at him searchingly, not sure what he meant by “home” or “finish this.” Not even sure what this was.
Desire?
Need?
Love?
Certainly, it was all three in her case, but she doubted Atticus felt the same way. Oh, his physical desire was undeniable. But need? Atticus had never needed anyone or anything. Love? Atticus didn’t love her, and he never would.
The real questions were, was she willing to accept the few scraps of affection Atticus was capable of giving her? And if she did, how would they be able continue being members of the same family once his desire for her had burned to ashes, as it inevitably would?
Atticus gave a pained wince, his arms slowly loosening about her waist. “If it’s taking this long for you to think about it, then the answer must be no.” His arms fell back to his sides before he stepped back. “You’re right, it’s a bad idea, on so many levels.”
Jenna instantly felt the loss. “I didn’t say that.”
He grimaced, dark gaze guarded. “You didn’t need to. I never meant to hurt you, Jenna.”
Her smile lacked humor. “It�
��s not your fault.” Love couldn’t be forced. It either was or it wasn’t. And for Atticus, it just wasn’t.
“This situation is…” He gave a shake of his head. “I would protect you with my life.”
She nodded. “All the brothers would. I know that.”
His gaze became shuttered. “So what happens now?”
“You go back to your apartment, I go back to mine, and we both get on with our lives.” She forced a smile. “Hopefully by Christmas with the parents, the two of us can be back to tormenting the hell out of each other.”
Atticus didn’t want to leave things between them like this. Unresolved. Awkward. Frustrating as hell.
But what choice did he have?
Jenna responded to him on a physical level, but emotionally, she had decided to shut herself off from him.
Because he was a bastard!
A selfish, controlling bastard, who did nothing but hurt Jenna. Time and time again. And it had to stop. Now.
He gave an abrupt nod. “But the bodyguard and security surveillance continue.”
“Until when?”
“Until I say otherwise.”
Her smile was mocking. “There’s the Atticus I know and…know.” Her gaze avoided meeting his. “Fine. One bodyguard and Haydn’s security cameras can also stay. But otherwise—” She broke off at the sound of a loud ringing noise.
The sound became louder as Atticus took out his cell phone. He could hear the sound of a slightly different alarm going off in the apartment and guessed it was on Logan’s cell phone. Meaning this was an all-brothers alarm.
The last time they had one of these, Jenna had been abducted.
Obviously, he knew that hadn’t happened this time, but the message displayed on his cell phone was still enough to stop his heart beating for several seconds.
“What is it?” Jenna demanded as she saw the blood drain from Atticus’s face.
He gave a slow shake of his head. “I have to go.”
“I— But— Atticus, what’s happened?” Impossible to hide the panic in her voice.
“I don’t have all the details yet.” He seemed to be looking at her and yet not actually seeing her. “Let Ben accompany you home, Jenna, and then stay there.”
“Has someone been hurt—”
“For once in your life, will you just do what I’ve told you to do without argument or explanation?” His fingers bit into her arms as he shook her, his eyes glittering darkly. “Go home. Lock the door. And don’t open it again for anyone. Do you hear me?”
“I… Yes, I hear you. I just… You’re frightening me, Atticus,” she admitted brokenly.
He pulled her roughly against his chest, his arms holding her tightly. “I don’t mean to do that,” he said into the softness of her hair. “But I do need you to do as I ask.”
“I will.” She nodded against his chest. “I’ll have Ben drive me home now, okay?”
Some of his tension eased. “Okay.” He held her at arm’s length. “I— None of us would survive if something happened to you.” He bent forward to place a gentle kiss against her temple.
“Atticus.”
She lifted her head to see a grim-faced Logan standing in the doorway, the two men exchanging a silent glance before Atticus released her and strode across the room to join his brother.
“Stay safe,” he paused to instruct before the two men left the apartment together.
The bed was huge. The mattress was comfortable, the bedcovers the softest cotton imaginable. Yet Jenna still couldn’t sleep. Because after hours of tossing and turning, she still hadn’t heard from Atticus. Where he was. What he was doing. What the alarm on his cell phone earlier had been about.
August had claimed not to know any more than Jenna when she’d asked her friend why the two men had left in such a hurry. The other woman seemed content to accept that Logan would explain the situation once he returned home. No doubt, after living with him for a month, August was used to Logan’s sudden disappearances for work, and the explanations later.
Jenna wished she had the same patience.
But she’d done as she said she would and had Ben drive her to the apartment. Then proceeded to wait for Atticus or one of the brothers to contact her by phone or in person.
When none of them did, she had decided to take a shower and get ready for bed. There was still no message from any of them on her cell or the answer machine when she left the bathroom. As it was after midnight, she’d crawled into bed and tried to fall sleep.
Two hours later, she was still wide awake, staring up at the ceiling and willing her cell phone to ring or ping with a text message, anything to let her know Atticus and the brothers were all okay. She’d give it another ten minutes and then she was going to call August and see if she had heard from Logan yet—
Jenna tensed at the sound of a door opening, the noise very loud in the otherwise silent apartment. It was followed by stealthy footsteps coming down the dark hallway toward where she was lying in bed.
Why was there never a blunt instrument around when you needed one!
Come on, Jenna, improvise, she instructed frantically. If she didn’t have a blunt instrument, then she had to find one. The bedroom was in darkness, but her eyes were accustomed to the moonlight enough for her to grab the lamp off the bedside table, quickly removing the shade and bulb before taking it beneath the bedcovers with her as she feigned sleep.
Just in time as the bedroom door was pushed open and a dark figure stepped into the bedroom.
Jenna kept her breathing shallow, but her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure the intruder must be able to hear it. She watched through slitted lids as he crossed the room to stand beside the bed.
Oh God, oh God, oh God!
The man looked huge, not only tall but muscular. She doubted a bedside lamp was going to do any more than bounce off all those muscles—
“Jenna, what are you doing in my bed?”
“Atticus!” She didn’t hesitate to toss back the covers and throw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping about his waist as she clung to him like a spider monkey in her relief at it being him.
“Ouch! What the hell, Jenna?”
“Oops, sorry.” She dropped the lampstand as she realized she must have hit him on the side of the head with it when she threw her arms about his neck.
Atticus drew in a hissing breath. “Damn it, you dropped it on my foot.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She clung even tighter to him. “I thought you were an intruder.”
“And you were going to hit him over the head with a— What the hell was that?”
“The lampstand.”
He drew in a controlling breath. “Jenna, this is my apartment, and that’s my bed.”
“I know but I didn’t want to go back to my apartment and decided to wait here for you instead. The guys on reception downstairs didn’t think anything of it because I’ve been staying here anyway. I waited and waited, but you were gone so long, I decided to go to bed.”
“In my bed.”
“Well. Yes. I changed the sheets on the bed I was using before I left this morning and didn’t see the point in messing them up again.”
“You didn’t— Jenna, what the hell are you wearing?” Atticus’s hands stilled, having roamed down her back until his hands were now cupping her bare bottom.
“One of your T-shirts.” Her words were muffled against his throat. “All my stuff is back at my own apartment.”
Atticus and his brothers had spent the past seven hours first confirming the message on their cell phones and then being voluntarily questioned by the police. Coming home to find Jenna not only in his bed but also only wearing one of his overlarge T-shirts was too much when his emotions already felt so raw and exposed.
His evening had been hellish as he answered the same questions from the police over and over again. Put in a dozen different ways, and from a different angle, but still the same questions, until Atticus had thought his head would explode.
Maybe he’d fallen into bed as soon as he got home and was now asleep and dreaming?
If he was, then he wasn’t in a hurry to wake up any time soon.
But he tried, even in his dream, to give Jenna one last chance to escape him. “If I start this, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
Her eyes glittered in the semidarkness. “I won’t want you to.”
He groaned as he buried his face in the side of Jenna’s throat, breathing in her perfume, something citrus and floral, along with that unique feminine musk that drove him insane every time it invaded his senses.
“The T-shirt’s coming off,” he growled, Jenna’s arms and legs still clinging to his as he released her bottom to pull the offending garment up her body. The moonlight shining in through the window allowed him to see the curls on her mound, her concave stomach, and those full and uptilting breasts, before he pulled the T-shirt up and over her head and threw it onto the floor. Her hair fell back down like a silky curtain about her slender shoulders, partially concealing those plump breasts. “I’m not a gentle man,” he warned.
She snorted. “I already know that.”
“No, I meant I can’t be gentle, not tonight.”
Jenna wanted to ask him what had happened tonight, but the dangerous edge and the raw passion she could see blazing in his eyes warned her against it.
Instead, she bit the flesh just beneath his ear, hard enough to bruise but not to break the skin. “I can take anything you have to give me.” Her breath was hot against his skin.
His arms tightened. “Are you sure about that?”
Jenna raised her head, her gaze challenging on his. “Anything and everything.”
Atticus moaned low in his throat as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that bordered on savage and was everything possessive.