Chapter 11 #2
I backed her against the wall, my hands rough as I pulled her blouse over her head. If she wanted distraction, I'd give it to her. Hard and fast and mindless.
Her breath hitched as I unhooked her bra, exposing her breasts to the cool air. I lowered my mouth to one nipple, drawing it between my teeth, and she gasped, arching into me.
"Jackson," she moaned, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
I lifted her, carrying her to the dining table—the same one I'd imagined bending her over. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I set her down, her skirt riding up her thighs.
"Is this what you want?" I growled, pushing her skirt higher, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties.
"Yes," she breathed, lifting her hips to help me remove them. "Please."
I unbuckled my belt, freeing myself from the confines of my pants and kicking them off. She reached for me, her fingers wrapping around my length, guiding me to her entrance.
Fuck, she was already slick and ready. That only fired me up even more.
I thrust into her in one smooth motion, and she cried out, her head falling back. I set a punishing pace, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. She met each thrust, her nails digging into my back through my shirt.
The table creaked beneath us, the sound barely registering through the haze of pleasure. Elena's moans grew louder, more desperate, as I drove into her again and again.
"Harder," she gasped, and I obliged, gripping the edge of the table for leverage.
With a sudden crack, the table collapsed beneath us. We tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs, the shock of it cutting through the moment.
Elena blinked up at me, stunned, and then, to my surprise, she started to laugh. The sound was bright and unexpected, a stark contrast to her tears from moments before.
"I'm sorry," she gasped between giggles. "That table was already wobbly."
Despite everything, I found myself chuckling along with her. The absurdity of the situation—the broken table, our half-dressed state, the fact that I was still inside her—was too much.
"Bedroom?" I suggested, and she nodded, her eyes darkening with renewed desire.
I lifted her, still joined, and carried her to the small bedroom off the main living area. We fell onto her bed in a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing. This time, our pace was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense.
I watched her face as she came undone beneath me, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth falling open in a silent cry. The sight of her pleasure pushed me over the edge, and I followed her into oblivion, my release tearing through me with unexpected force.
I pulled out, grunting as my cum squirted over her thighs, making her legs quiver.
Fuck, she looked good like that.
I flopped down beside her, drawing in air as I savored the moment. I'd not had a fling recently, and the feel of a real woman was always better than my hand.
Elena's eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling steadily. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget everything else—the suspicion, the investigation, the questions about her motives.
She looked at ease right now, still riding the high, a small smile on her lips.
"Thanks for pulling out, I don't have condoms," she breathed. "I wasn't… well, expecting that. I am on birth control though, just so you know."
"That's good." I was inwardly scolding myself for getting so caught up in it, but I'd already seen her doctor’s prescriptions for birth control in my deep search of her. It was still better to be safe than sorry.
"You often get horny when emotional?" I asked as I propped myself up on one arm.
"No… but you excite me more than you should," she murmured, her cheeks reddening as she slipped her hand under my open shirt, running it up over my shoulder to trace the burn scars there. "Even your scars, I find them… beautiful."
I scoffed, finding that hard to believe. "How?"
"They tell a story, one of survival. I'm sure it's something you don't want to talk about though. Just know that I don't see it as ugly, Jackson," she said quietly, her eyes soft.
Damn her. From the moment I'd laid eyes on her, she'd drawn my attention, and now, she was unraveling me in ways I didn't want her too.
The last time I'd fallen so hard for a woman, she'd left me for another man. Fucked him in our bed, where I found them tangled in the sheets after coming home early from a mission to surprise her.
It had turned me off dating or getting involved with someone. It gave them too much power to break a part of you.
"Can I see them?"
I frowned, caught off guard by her request.
"My scars?"
"I understand if you'd rather not," she said quickly, biting her lip in a way that made me want to kiss her again.
Instead, I sat up and shrugged off my shirt, tossing it aside and turning my back to her. Turning my back to a potential enemy wasn't wise, but there was something real and genuine about her that had me doing stupid things. Going against everything I believed and had been trained for.
It was dangerous.
I shuddered as her fingers traced over my scars ever so lightly.
"What was the tattoo?" she asked, her featherlight touch drifting over what once had been a dragon tattoo on my back. Fitting, considering it was now a jagged mess of scarred tissue and black ink.
"A dragon, I got it before I enlisted," I shared. "Got all the others during my breaks between missions."
"Right." There was no pity in her tone, more an awe as her fingers danced over them, pausing on a few scars not from the flames. Scars from bullets, and one from a knife.
I knew she wanted to ask about them, I could feel it in the air. Instead, I turned back to her, lying down again and keeping myself propped on one elbow.
"Do you have any scars?" I asked, wanting to learn more about this woman getting under my skin.
"Nothin like yours, little ones from kitchen accidents, one on my knee from jumping a fence as a kid with Ivy," she said, a small smile dancing on her lips.
"We were stealing a rose from Mrs. Monroe's garden to give to my mom for her birthday.
Heard her coming out so we tried to run for it.
Funnily enough, she popped by that day to see why we'd done it, saw the rose in a vase on my mom's counter and me with my knee all patched up, and she told me to just let her know next time I want flowers for my mom, especially on such an occasion. "
Elena was a woman with a soft heart, I could see that as she giggled and shook her head at the memory.
"She sounds like a good neighbor."
"She was, drove us home one night when we missed the bus in town and mom was sleeping. She was getting gas late after coming back from a vacation and saw us. Small towns are good places for families."
"So I've heard."
She reached out, her fingers brushing over my dog tags. "This is not at all how I thought things would go." Her face shifted to one of confusion and unease. "I don't do this… ever. Sleep with people. I've pretty much been celibate since my last relationship…"
"Maybe that's why you needed to jump me," I said with a chuckle, but her frown only deepened.
"I'm sorry, Jackson."
"For?"
"For this. It can't… it can't become anything. My mom, I need to focus on her right now…" Her words trailed off as she hugged herself, pursing her lips. Like she was trying to shield herself.
"Why'd you come all the way to Ironstone then?
" I asked gently, resting my hand on her shoulder and stroking my thumb over her soft skin.
Maybe I could coax the truth from her. Elena didn't seem like the kind of person to do something bad without a reason.
Maybe, by some crazy chance, it was a ll a misunderstanding.
Her sweet blue eyes searching mine, and I could see her walls crumbling, like she wanted to stop hiding and be honest.
Too bad we were interrupted by the shrill ringtone of my phone.
"You should get that," she whispered, and I knew the moment was lost.
Fuck.
I sighed and slipped out of bed, grabbing my briefs from the floor, and padded to the kitchen to take the call.
My pants were a crumpled mess on the floor by the broken table, and I fished my phone out before leaving them on the floor.
I couldn't help the small smirk at the remains of the furniture.
"Graves," I answered, keeping my voice low. A shrill ringing started up, and I glanced at Elena's discarded purse on the floor. Uncanny timing.
"Those financials she was looking at," Roman said without preamble, snapping my attention back to him just as Elena stumbled from the room, summoned by her ringing phone. I kept my back to her. "They're connected to Anthony Cassaro's death."
I closed my eyes, fisting my free hand at the confirmation that she was digging for anything on Anthony Cassaro's death. I knew Pristine Solutions was a clean-up crew for the family. From normal cleaning right to dealing with the mess of gunfights and dropped bodies.
Something told me this was the reason she was digging.
"Any ideas why? What now?" I asked, as I turned to glance at Elena. Her brows knitted together as she caught my gaze, her ringing phone now in hand. She turned away and headed back into the room as I clenched my jaw.
"Not too sure yet. But it means she's digging into things that could put the family at risk," Roman replied. "Leo wants her questioned. Find out what she knows and why she's looking."
I glanced toward the bedroom door, where Elena was now taking her own call. "Understood."
I ended the call, cursing myself for the lapse in judgment. I'd just fucked a potential enemy, someone who might be targeting the family I'd sworn to protect.
Why was she so damn difficult for me? Pulling all the right strings, messing with my walls and making me feel like a damn fool.
Whatever Elena Peters was after, I needed to find out. Now.