Chapter 6
Chapter Six
He’d fucked Wren.
He’d fucked Wren.
And now she was asleep, and he was standing by her bed and…
He’d fucked Wren.
Jake kept coming back to that point. Probably because it was an exceedingly important point. A point that was changing his whole world.
He’d ditched the condom. Seen the bit of blood on it. Which brought up another utterly astounding point.
I’d been the first to fuck Wren Maye.
How in the hell had that happened?
How in the hell had he gone from having the woman as his dark obsession for years to—to actually having her?
He frowned down at her. She should get under the covers. She’d be far more comfortable under the damn covers. He bent and scooped her up. She cuddled against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Jake.” A soft whisper of his name.
And he almost didn’t put her back down. His stupid arms wanted to keep holding her because if he let her go, he might lose her. This whole night might vanish. Be just another dream. One that made him wake up aching for her, in a cold bed.
Get your shit together, man.
He held her with one arm. Yanked back the covers and tucked her in and forced himself to let go. Let go. She was naked and delectable and if he didn’t put the covers over her, he’d be trying to fuck her again.
Yes, let’s do that.
No, dammit, no.
He snatched the covers in place. Covered that hot body.
Her eyelashes—those long, dark lashes—fluttered and opened and her gaze zeroed in on him. Sleepy, but aware. “Are you covering me up?” Husky. So sensual.
“Yes.” Hissed.
“Why?”
“Because you could get cold.”
“Not if you’re in bed with me.” Whispered.
She had no idea that she was playing with fire. “If I’m in bed with you, I’ll be fucking you again.”
“Okay.”
His eyes squeezed closed. “You are pushing me.” He was way too close to the edge. She didn’t get just how desperate for her he truly was. She’d bled. She’d hurt. He wasn’t supposed to screw her like crazy all night long. He was supposed to show tact. Care. Be a freaking gentleman. Because he’d been her first.
How in the hell had he been her first?
Why? Why had she picked him? Why in the hell hadn’t she picked someone nicer? Some actual gentleman? Someone who didn’t have so much blood staining his hands?
His eyes flew open because he needed the answer to that one, burning question. “Why, Wren?”
But Wren’s eyes had drifted shut. She’d turned onto her side—toward him—and snuggled against the bed. “Safer that way,” she responded. Her words slurred together.
Safer? What did that even mean?
“You can stay.” So soft. He almost thought he’d imagined her words, but then she added, “If you want. Still night. Still counts…as one-night…stand…” A soft exhale.
“This is not a one-night stand.”
She didn’t respond. Because she’d gone back to sleep. Like the woman didn’t have a care in the world. Like she hadn’t nearly been abducted that night. Like some prick hadn’t cut her neck. Like Jake hadn’t fucked her like a possessed madman who would never, ever get enough of her.
“It’s not a one-night stand,” he repeated. How could it be when he just wanted more and more and more?
After he’d ditched the condom, he’d hauled his boxers and jeans back into place. No shoes or a shirt. He stood by the bed and kept glowering at her.
His phone beeped and vibrated. He wanted to keep right on staring—dammit, glowering—at Wren, but his gaze reluctantly turned to the phone. His eyes narrowed on the screen, and when he realized the text was coming from his twin, he grabbed the device and nearly shattered it in his hand.
Is Wren secure? The question on the screen had come from Eb.
Secure? Not quite the description he’d give. But texting back… She’s just been thoroughly fucked didn’t seem like the right thing to do. So, instead of saying that, Jake sent: Call me now. 911.
911—that meant serious emergency status achieved.
And the phone was ringing even as he turned away from Wren and hurried for the door. His fingers swiped over the screen. He put the phone to his ear right before crossing the threshold.
“What is happening?” Eb demanded and there was real fear in his voice.
“You haven’t fucked Wren.” He pulled the door shut behind him.
It clicked closed.
“What?”
He stood just beyond that door and tried to figure out how to not sound insane. “You haven’t fucked Wren.” Okay, yeah, same words. Still probably sounded crazy. Too bad. He felt crazy.
“Uh, yeah, I’m aware.” Fireworks seemed to explode in the background.
Jake tensed. It wasn’t the Fourth of July, and he’d bet his soul those were not exploding fireworks. “Eb?”
“Really kind of busy at the moment,” his twin returned, “so if this isn’t life-or-death, how about we chat later?”
More fireworks. Shit.
“Is Wren safe?” Eb bit out.
“She’s with me.”
A quick exhale. “Good. Keep her close. You know I love that woman.”
Jake’s heart stopped.
“I’d be there myself if I could?—”
Fireworks. Nah. Correction, gunfire.
“But that can’t happen. Not yet. Working on it, though. In the meantime, you have to stay close to her, bro. I get that you don’t like the woman.”
“I like her just fine.”
“Uh, right. Wren tells me all the time she thinks you hate her but…you can keep her safe. I know you can do that.”
Wren thinks I hate her? So why did she just let me fuck her?
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Eb said. The words were an order, but held the tone of a plea. As a rule, Eb never pleaded for anything.
“What is the threat to her? Where is the danger coming from?”
“The past. Mine. Yours.”
Oh, that couldn’t be good. Their past tended to be a shitshow. “You’re gonna have to be way more specific.”
“I would be if I could be and— dammit! ” An explosion of gunfire. “Way too close. Look, I got word that payback was coming at me. At us. Didn’t know exactly how or when. I was already on edge, and…then, fuck, I received an email with Wren’s pic attached.”
Uh, yeah, so where was the big drama?—
“In the pic, there was a bull’s-eye on her face.”
“Trace the email.” Simple enough.
“You think I didn’t try?” Eb’s breath heaved in and out. “The fucker is good. He knows his way around tech. He wanted me to know what he was doing. Wanted me to know he was targeting her. I’m trapped here, she’s there, and he wanted me to know she was in danger.”
“How do you know this isn’t just about you?” Because maybe this wasn’t their past. Maybe it was just Eb’s.
“Because the email had a damn message that said, ‘The sins of the brothers will burn the bitch.’ Brothers, as in plural. As in you are the only damn brother I have in this world. There. Does that get nice and specific enough for you and—shit, way too close!” Gunfire cut through his words. “Hell is raining on me, and I’ve got to go. Just—look, Wren is the target and the tool of someone’s twisted vengeance and just keep her safe. Don’t let her out of your sight. Take her off the grid. Make her go dark. Kidnap her if you have to do it, but she has to get out of sight until I can figure out more and— people are shooting at my team. I have to go! ”
Well, great. “Stay alive, asshole.”
“Working on it. You just keep her alive.”
The call ended.
Keep Wren alive? Done. End goal. He pulled in a breath. Exhaled slowly. Eb was CIA. When he talked about his team, he was talking about the spooks that would have his back. His brother had damn well better stay alive.
The sins of the brothers…
Hell, they had committed far too many sins in their lives. Which one was coming back to haunt them now?
Jake opened the door. The lights in the bedroom were still on. He should turn them off so that the illumination didn’t disturb Wren. She needed to sleep. The fingers of his left hand rose and pulled down the light switch. The overhead light immediately turned off, but the bedside lamp still glowed.
He walked silently across the room. Stared down at Wren. His beautiful Wren. She rolled away from him in her sleep. And as she did, the light fell on her back. Her bare back. He saw the scar that skated across her right shoulder. And the mirrored scar on her left.
What. The. Hell?
He dropped the phone onto the nightstand. His hand lifted toward her right shoulder. Almost touched the scar. A scar that sure as shit looked like it might have come from the blade of a knife.
Who had hurt Wren?
When?
And was the sonofabitch still alive? Because if he was, Jake would gladly send him to hell.
But his fingers stilled before he made contact with her skin. This wasn’t the time to demand explanations. He’d get his answers soon enough. Instead, his hand pulled back.
Mirrored scars. Deliberate cuts. No way is that shit accidental.
He turned off the lamp. Then he climbed his ass in bed with Wren. He wasn’t supposed to let her out of his sight, after all. So it looked like they would, indeed, be having a one-bed situation. But he eased forward just a little because those scars bothered him so much.
Wren shouldn’t know pain. Not ever.
I hurt her tonight. I didn’t mean to do it. If I’d known that I was her first, I would have been so much more careful. Would have made sure she was so lost to pleasure that she would never feel pain.
His lips brushed over one scar.
An old scar. It had faded a pale white against her golden skin.
He eased back against his pillow, but his arm locked around Wren, and he pulled her close. He’d been her first lover. Jake still had trouble wrapping his head around that fact. How did he get to be the lucky bastard?
As for Wren…
She was going to be the first woman he slept with. Actually, slept with. Because she’d been right. He didn’t stay with lovers. There were no permanent ties in his life. Not except for his family.
And Wren.
His eyes closed.
What in the hell am I going to do with Wren now? Other than, of course, keep her alive.
Keep. Her.
Her eyes opened. She stretched and rolled slowly as awareness trickled in and she faced?—
Jake.
A Jake who was right beside her. As in, beside her in bed.
Her lips parted.
His eyes opened. “Morning, sunshine.” No sleepiness. Complete awareness.
Jake was in her bed. She was naked, and Jake was in her bed.
Wren screamed.