Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Don’t pounce. Don’t pounce. Keep your hands off her.
Wren’s soft hand patted his chest. “I think I’ve shared enough for tonight. Let’s stop while I’m ahead. Not like I want you running away in abject terror.”
Her words were probably supposed to sound mocking, but he’d caught the quaver in her voice. “Told you already, I run to you. Not away.” Her touch scorched him. “Actually, I don’t run from anything.” Not his style. Never had been, never would be.
“No, big, bad you wouldn’t run.” Her fingers flexed against his chest. “So which enemy do you think has come demanding his pound of flesh?”
“Don’t know yet. But I’ll be finding out.”
“Guessing the dead man at the beach house didn’t look familiar to you?”
“Never seen him before in my life.” Her scent flooded his nostrils. So sweet. “My money says he was a hired thug. But we might be able to trace him back to the person pulling the strings.”
“You don’t think the guy who was with him on the beach—you don’t think that could be the person pulling the strings?”
“Maybe.” He wouldn’t rule out that option yet. “We’ll find out. Honey turned over the dead perp’s phone to some of her FBI buddies. They’ll try and retrieve every bit of useful intel on there.” Intel that had better lead to some results. “To be clear, until the danger has passed, you’re stuck with me.”
She started to speak, then seemed to catch herself. Her lush lips pressed together before she told him, “I have to get back to Charleston. I can’t stay here forever.”
“It’s Saturday. You can stay until Monday.” But, hell, Monday might not be an option for her. “Honey may need us staying longer.” Probably better to go ahead and prepare Wren for the change in her travel plans.
Her dark gaze was very serious. “Because you killed a man to save my life.”
“Usually, the authorities don’t like it when you scramble out of town after killing someone. Self-defense or not. Tends to look bad.”
“I would hate for you to look bad.”
Fuck looking bad. “Whenever you do go back, you’ll have a boyfriend in tow. A real possessive prick.” He’d be in tow, either in Hilton Head or in Charleston. Wren wasn’t getting away from him.
“You’re…going to stay at my home with me? When I go to Charleston?”
Why was she having trouble with this? “I let you out of my sight for two minutes at the beach house, and you rushed out screaming. I lost ten years of my life getting to you. Not gonna do that shit again, thanks. I will absolutely be staying with you. Here or in Charleston. Have you forgotten already? Where you go, I go. Thought you wanted things that way.” He sure wanted that deal.
She rose onto her toes. “I have a confession for you.”
He should stop staring at her mouth.
“If you come home to Charleston with me, it will absolutely be a one-bed situation.”
His dick saluted her. Hell. Who was he kidding? His eager dick always saluted her.
“I don’t have a guest room,” she informed him sweetly. “So you’ll have to share the bed with me.”
“I can…sleep on a couch. Or the floor.”
“That’s cold, Jake. Ice cold.” She backed away.
His hand flew out and curled around her wrist. He’d been trying to do this all nicely. Screw nice. Time to be blunt. “You think I can keep fucking you and let you go? Baby, I will own you if I have you again. Then I won’t give you up just because the danger is over.”
He’d said too much. He knew it. But the words weren’t coming back.
Her eyes were wide and stark and right on him.
Let her go. Back away. Act normal. Not like a possessive prick who wants to horde his treasure and never, ever let the rest of the world get near her.
“Go to bed,” he ordered gruffly as he freed her. “I’ll secure things here. I need to make some more phone calls. Check in with some contacts.” Get the Ice Breakers moving. Get Declan Flynn’s arrogant ass on the line so he could use the man’s assets. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation.
She didn’t move. “Do I get to own you, Jake?”
Every muscle in his body tightened. When she’d said his name, there had been longing in her voice. A sweet, savage hunger. He kept warning the woman. He’d told her how very close to the edge he was.
For fuck’s sake, he was trying. Attempting to do the right thing and not absolutely devour her. Maybe he should be even more blunt.
She batted those dark lashes at him and said, “Hardly seems fair that you’re staking possession but I don’t have the same right.”
The same right? His hands reached for her. Again. And as soon as he touched her, yes, major mistake. Need spiked through him. “You’ve owned me since you were sixteen years old.”
“Wh-what?” A little stutter. A tremble.
“You made the mistake of saving my life. That means I owe you my life, don’t I? Isn’t that what you told me back then? So I think you’ve owned me ever since that moment. When you pulled me away from the truck careening toward me, when we fell onto the pavement and my ice cream went all over us both. You’ve been in my mind since that moment. In every single fantasy that I’ve had. Even when I fuck other women?—”
“Don’t want to hear about that,” she snapped.
“It’s you. You’re the one I want. So, yeah, you own me. Lucky you.”
Her chest rose and fell quickly. “You saved my life today. I guess that means you own?—”
He kissed her. Could not hold back any longer. What did a man have to do in order to save a woman…from himself? He’d warned her that he wanted her too badly. Warned her that his control was shredding. Tearing apart more and more, minute by minute. She should have heeded his warning and gotten the hell away from him.
Instead, she moaned. Instead, her lips parted beneath his. Instead, she pressed her breasts against him and she held on and she let him taste her need and her desire and the wild want that equaled his own.
His hands slid down her body. Curled around the sweet ass that he adored. He lifted her up against him, and she wrapped her legs around his hips like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like he wasn’t about to fuck her until she couldn’t walk.
When she’d been a virgin the night before…
She’s mine now. I won’t give her up.
He intended to keep her. Somehow, someway.
With her legs around his hips, with her arms around his neck, he began to walk. He knew how to get to his bedroom. No problem. He’d have her on the big, king-size bed. And he’d be in her as deep as he could go.
He’d make her scream again.
I tried to warn her. She chose this. She chose me.
Need grew to a dangerous degree. A white-hot lust that consumed and burned and destroyed all other thought.
He lowered her onto the bed. Stripped her clothes away. Had her naked and spread before him and what else was he to do but feast? He’d already gone too long without her taste.
He spread her legs wide. Put his mouth right on her core. Licked and sucked and tasted what belonged to him. His tongue swept inside of her.
Mine.
He pulled back. Licked her clit. Heard her sharp cry of pleasure.
Mine.
His fingers dipped into her as he licked and kissed. Sucked. Teased. Tormented.
He worked her again and again and her whole body jolted when she came. A sharp and hard release that had her crying out his name.
Perfect.
He rose to the side of the bed. Yanked open his jeans and reached for a condom that he kept in the nightstand drawer.
She slid off the bed. Hit the floor right beside him, with her knees touching down. And her mouth locked around the head of his dick.
The world stopped. He wasn’t even breathing.
Wren Maye’s mouth was on his dick. Not a fantasy. Insane reality. She’d gone down on him the night before. It had been heaven. Hell. He’d wanted to explode down her throat.
I want it again.
She sucked him. Her tongue swirled over the head of his dick, and then she opened her mouth wider and took him in deeper.
He forgot the condom. His hands sank into the thickness of her hair as he guided her and fucked that sweet, wicked mouth. A mouth that Wren was using so temptingly on him. She’d taken him into her hot, tight sex, and now she was letting him fuck her mouth again.
Taking and taking, and he was going to explode right there. In her mouth, down her throat. He was going to?—
“ Wren.” He pulled back. His hands dropped to her shoulders as he carefully pushed her back.
Her lips were swollen. Red. Wet.
“I like the way you taste,” she told him.
He pretty much threw her on the bed. Grabbed the condom. Shoved it on and then shoved his dick into her. Deep and hard and mine.
Over and over, he pounded into her. When it still wasn’t deep enough, he just grabbed her legs and heaved them over his shoulders. His hips thrust wildly. Again and again and again.
She screamed his name when she came, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
He drove into her. Faster. Harder. The bed groaned and squeaked, and his hands were too rough as he held her hips. His thrusts too fierce. But there was no pulling back.
There was no control.
There was only Wren.
His Wren.
He came inside of her.
Mine.
“My God, sweetheart, are you all right?”
Makayla Lane forced a weak smile when her fiancé rushed into her den. His pale green eyes were wide and worried. He pulled her into a fierce hug and held her tightly.
“I heard the story on the news,” he told her. “Then my phone was lighting up with calls—someone tried to kill Wren? And you were right there? ”
“It’s all right, Tom.” Thomas Addison Hadden, the Third. Banker. Just like Thomas Addison Hadden the Second. And the First. Only her Tom had also been the homecoming king and the high school track star, back in the day.
Back then, he’d been way, way out of her reach.
They’d reconnected in the last year, when she went into the bank looking for a loan.
And she’d wound up with a fiancé.
“It’s not all right.” He pulled back. Stared down at her with his perfect, handsome face, and his steady but worried gaze. “A man is dead, Makayla. Some crazy guy with a knife attempted to kill your friend. And I heard Honey Jackson thinks this nut job tried to attack Wren the previous night, too? Weren’t you all at your bachelorette party then?” Alarm sharpened his voice.
“It was after the party.” A chill skated over her skin. “Most of the ladies had left. We’d piled into the limo. Wren wasn’t with us because she was walking to her uncle’s beach house.” She hugged him again. “I’m glad you’re here.” She hadn’t exactly been looking forward to spending the night alone. Not after everything that had happened. “There was so much blood,” she admitted.
“Wren’s blood?” Tom sounded horrified.
Makayla shook her head. “I thought it was hers when I saw her after the attack.” Wren, covered in so much blood. The blood had dripped down her friend’s arms. “But it wasn’t hers. It was her attacker’s. Jake shot him. He saved her life.”
“Jacob Jones.”
They’d all known each other for so long. But she nodded anyway. “He—he and Wren are a thing now.” How had she not realized that? “He flipped out when she was attacked. You should have seen him.” She stared up at the face of the man she was going to marry. “He killed to protect her.” She knew that should probably scare her. No, no, Jake had been scary. Scary and intense and… “He carried her out of there.” Wren had been limp in his arms. Had she fainted? Maybe. Everyone knew Wren hated the sight of blood. At a high school party, a guy from out of town had gotten cut once on a broken beer bottle. The blood had been dripping from the side of his neck. The cut hadn’t been that deep. Hardly life threatening. But Wren had taken one look and hit the ground. Correction. She’d almost hit. Jake had grabbed her before she could connect with the hard earth.
Makayla pulled away from Tom. “There was blood all over Wren.” She looked down at her hands. “I thought it was her blood. I thought she was dead. But she’d been fighting her attacker. She’d broken free, and then Jake rushed to her—he saved her. ” She’d never forget all of the blood that had been on Wren. “I’ve never seen that much blood in my entire life.”
“And I hope you never do again.” He caught her hands. Squeezed. He was a strong man, but his hands were soft. No calluses. No old scars. And he always touched her with such care. “I hope you are never around anything like that again. Dammit, I can’t believe I was gambling in Vegas, and my fiancée was dealing with some psycho murder scene. That is not what I thought you’d be doing during your bachelorette time with the ladies.” He sent her a weak smile. “You were supposed to have a spa day.”
“We did do that.” On Thursday.
“And then maybe go to a strip show.”
They’d done that, too. Friday evening. Jennifer had known just where to visit.
“And then maybe you were all going to drink a little too much and wind up dancing on the beach…” A long sigh from Tom. “But no one was going to die. That was not on the agenda.”
“The bridesmaids didn’t die. Wren is okay. Like I said, Jake saved her.” But he’d been so scary as he did it. A shiver slid over her. “We went to the hospital—Jennifer and I did—to make sure she was okay. Jake barely let anyone near her. The man is in serious overdrive protection mode with her.”
“Huh. I wonder how Eb feels about that.”
Yeah, she wondered, too. She also wondered…“Would you do it for me?”
Tom frowned at her. “Do what?”
“He didn’t even hesitate. You should have seen how fast he ran to her. I-I didn’t even realize what was happening. He shoved me out of the way?—”
“What the hell? He’d better not have hurt you!” Anger heated his words.
She shook her head. “He didn’t. He just—he had to get to her. It was like nothing could stand in his way, and he killed for her.” That wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. She bit her lower lip. “Would you do that for me?” Why was she even asking? Not like she wanted him to do it.
“Would I stop a depraved madman from attacking you? Sweetheart, let’s hope that event never, ever happens.” He shuddered.
Only that wasn’t an answer. That wasn’t an overwhelming, of course, I’d kill for you in an instant. But then, Tom wasn’t like Jake. Tom was culture. Tom was class. Tom was the million and one things she’d always wanted and never had in her life growing up.
She forced a smile for him even as she pulled her hands from his careful grip. “I do hope that never happens.” If it did, would she fight like Wren?
She never would have thought that Wren would be such a fighter. Wren had always held herself back. Been so very cautious all the time.
“Darling.” His fingers slid under her chin. “I would kill for you in an instant.”
A warm glow filled her chest. Not that she wanted him killing. But…still, it was kinda nice to know.
“You are going to be my wife. I would never allow anyone to jeopardize you. You mean the world to me.”
He cared. No, he loved her.
His mouth pressed lightly to hers. “I am so glad you’re safe.” Another light kiss. Not deep and wild. But…
Good.
Steady. Reassuring.
Her eyes had closed.
“I missed you,” he murmured against her mouth.
“I missed you, too,” she replied dutifully. But, no, I did miss him. I’m not just saying the words. I’m going to marry him. Going to promise to love him forever.
She eased back. Her lashes lifted.
And she caught him staring at her…
With doubt in his eyes.
Worry surged. “Tom?”
But he just smiled. He caught her left hand. Lifted it toward his mouth. Her engagement ring—the “mega-rock” as Jen called it—gleamed right before he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I want to hear everything that happened. Every detail. You must have been terrified.”
“Not half as scared as Wren. But Wren is okay, really.” Had Wren and Tom dated briefly back in high school? And why was she suddenly remembering that random bit of gossip now? Wren had pretty much just been connected at the hip with Eb back then but…
Why does it matter?
“Wren is staying with Jake. There was a second attacker. He wasn’t caught.” The words tumbled out from Makayla.
He backed up a bit. “Did you see him?”
“No, no, I didn’t. I don’t think he was at the beach house. I heard that he was—um, he was on the beach, the first night. When I was already gone in the limo. The men tried to get Wren then, but Jake stopped them. He saved her twice.”
“How very fortunate that Wren has a lover who just won’t let her out of his sight.”
The words were wrong. They felt wrong. They sounded wrong.
Tom smiled. “Never would have picked those two as a pair.”
“Most people wouldn’t pick us as a pair, either.” She hadn’t grown up with the rich kids of Hilton Head. Her mom had been a waitress. Her dad? She’d never known him. She’d always wished that she had. She used to dream that he’d rush back into her life.
He never had. At this late stage in the game, she knew he never would.
“My darling…” Tom smiled his perfect smile. Perfect white teeth. Perfectly even. A perfect product of expensive orthodontics. “You are beautiful and charming and smart and graceful and…a hundred other things I do not deserve. I am the luckiest man in the world to have you as my bride-to-be.”
He could also be so perfect with his words. She smiled at him. “You are lucky.”
He nodded. “I know.” Another kiss on her knuckles. “Though it does sound as if Wren is lucky, too. We don’t always get to cheat death.”
No, people didn’t. Sometimes, death would take you in an instant and leave nothing but heartache in your place.
“I hope the other man is caught soon,” Tom added. “Would be terrible if he struck again.”
“I bet Jake can handle him.”
His face darkened. Just for a moment.
“Do you think it was hard?” The question nagged at her. “Killing someone, I mean. Do you think it was hard to do?” It had to be. To feel that heavy knowledge weighting down your soul. To know that you’ve taken a life. That wouldn’t be an easy burden to carry, even if the kill was done in self-defense.
“I don’t think it was hard at all for Jake Jones. Something tells me this isn’t the first time he’s pulled a trigger.”
Her chill was back. The goosebumps even bigger than before. “How would you know that?”
“Let’s just call it a guess.”
Who guessed about death that way?
“I know what he does for a living.” A slight pause from Tom. “I…know people who’ve used his services in order to get back loved ones who’ve gone missing in very dangerous places. It’s not an easy job. It’s not pretty. It’s violent and intense and it requires someone who isn’t afraid to make a life-or-death call.”
She couldn’t decide if he admired Jake or if he…
Hated him. Feared him?
After what she’d witnessed that day, Makayla had to admit that a part of her feared Jake, too. She threw herself against Tom. Curled her arms around his neck. Wren could keep her “scary hot” guy. Makayla would stay with her safe fiancé.
After all, sometimes, a little safety was the most important thing you could have in your world.
“Wren should be careful with him,” Tom continued, voice thoughtful. “Jake isn’t a man who will ever give up something he wants easily.”
“He wants Wren.” She was sure of this.
“All the more reason for her to be very, very careful…”