Chapter Nine
Jack
" W hy the fuck are you here so early?" I growl, scowling at Dillon, who is standing on my doorstep with a smirk on his face. The sun is barely even up. And I've been up half the night. Just so we're clear, I'm not complaining about that last part. Spending half the night fucking Madison raw is worth it every damn time. Especially on our wedding night.
"I need to see your wife."
I stare at Dillon for a long moment before slowing inching the door closed. He shoves his foot into the opening, laughing at me.
"Stop being a possessive asshole and go get Madison, Jack. This is important."
"Better be," I mutter. "You're interrupting the best night of my life."
"It's morning."
"Not when you only went to sleep three hours ago it isn't."
He laughs again, letting himself in while I go in search of my wife. I find her in the kitchen, making coffee, looking like a goddess. I stand in the doorway for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of her. Goddamn, she's gorgeous.
"You're staring again."
"You're wearing my ring. Unabashed staring is covered in the fine print, baby."
"Is it? In that case…" She turns around, raking her gaze up and down my body as she sips her coffee with a smirk.
I shake my head, my cock turning to stone. "Stop looking at me like that. Dillon is here to see you."
"Well, his timing sucks."
"Hard agree." I hold out a hand for her. "Come on. The faster we deal with him, the faster I get to take you back to bed."
"You have to work today."
"Uh, no, I don't."
"You missed work yesterday, Jack."
"I work for my damn self, baby. I can miss work if I want to miss work."
"You're terrible at secrets, just so you know," she mumbles, marching past me into the living room.
I swat her gorgeous ass.
"Morning, Sheriff," she says, scowling at me over her shoulder.
"You started it," I mouth at her.
She harumphs and turns to look at Dillon, who just shakes his head like he thinks I'm an idiot. Which, now that I think about it…
"What can I do for you this morning?"
"Do you know Kenneth McDougal?" Dillon asks her.
"Kenneth McDougal?" Her brows furrow. "He's one of my father's old college buddies. He lives in Houston. Why?"
"He's the one your father called after you talked to him the other morning," Dillon says. "And McDougal showed up in town a few hours later. He stayed at a hotel over the weekend before heading back to Houston."
"McDougal," she whispers.
I step up beside her, sliding my arm around her waist. "We're going to bring the fucker down, baby."
"I know, I'm just…" She shakes her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, really. I guess I just liked him more than most of my father's friends. He was always nice to me."
"Well, from what I've been able to put together, it looks like he may owe your father a considerable amount of money," Dillon says. "Your father bailed him out of some financial trouble some years back."
"His company was struggling," Madison mumbles, her expression twisting as if she's remembering something from a long time ago.
"Yeah." Dillon jerks his chin in a nod. "Gerald cut him a check to bail him out. It would have been before…"
"Before my mom died," she whispers, glancing up at Dillon. "I remember…" She pauses, exhaling a breath. "I remember them arguing about it. I can't remember the details, but I don't think she knew what my father was going to do until he already cut the check. It was a lot of money." She looks at Dillon as if seeking confirmation.
"It definitely wasn't pocket change."
"She wasn't happy about it, but he said it was a good investment. Then she got sicker and it just kind of ended there." Madison shakes her head. "I guess we know why he thought it was such a good investment now, huh?"
I press my lips to her temple. "Just a few more days, baby," I murmur against her skin.
"You should talk to Kenneth," she says to Dillon. "If he's the one…well, I doubt it was his idea. My father probably used that loan to get him on board, threatened to take his company or something. He may talk to you."
"Or he'll run to your father," Dillon says.
"Speaking of which…"
Dillon whips his head toward me, his eyes narrowed. "What now?"
"She wants to see her father before the press conference."
"Why?"
"She isn't done haunting him," I mutter dryly.
She elbows me in the ribs. "That is not what I said, Jack."
"Same difference, baby."
Dillon glances between us. "That might not be a bad idea."
This time, I'm the one scowling at him all suspicious-like. "It's a fucking terrible idea."
"Think about it," he says. "If she shows up at his place, it'll spook him. She's already laid the groundwork. Why not use it to try to nab a confession?"
"Uh, because he wants to fucking kill her?" I snarl, gripping onto her like she might slip through my fingers. At this point, she fucking might. Jesus Christ. They're both insane. The last place she needs to be is alone with that prick.
"So she shows up in his office instead, surrounded by people," Dillon says. "With the two of us waiting right outside the door. He won't have a chance to get his hands on her. But she'll have a chance to say what she wants to say to him. If we're lucky, we hear enough to incriminate him. Then you hold your press conference, tell the world she's alive and you're married. And by the way, her father is in jail for plotting to murder her."
"It's not a bad idea," Madison whispers, peeking over at me.
"Uh, it's a fucking terrible idea," I disagree. Her anywhere near that bastard is the worst goddamn idea since we decided to elect Dillon as sheriff again. The man is a menace. And we just keep giving him a badge and a gun. What is wrong with us?
"Please, Jack," she pleads quietly. "I'm ready for this to be over so we can move on."
Goddamn son of a bitch motherfucker.
We haven't even been married for twenty-four hours, and I already can't tell her no. I'm in serious trouble over here.
"Fine," I growl, giving in gracefully. Gracelessly. Whatever. I give in because what the fuck else am I supposed to do? If she needs this, I'm not going to be the thing standing in her way. I support her. Always.
But I turn a dark scowl on Dillon. "If he touches her, I'm killing him. And then I'm killing you. And I might do other shady shit too. Undecided."
"If he touches her, I'll let you use my gun, how about that?" Dillon says, completely serious.
Fine. Maybe he isn't a terrible sheriff and electing him again wasn't an awful idea.
"Come here," I order Madison as soon as I slam the door closed behind Dillon an hour later. Our plans are made, we know what the fuck we're going to do. First thing in the morning, Madison will be waiting in his office.
Which means I have twenty-four hours before I have to let her walk in there and face that prick.
I fully intend to spend every minute of the next twenty-four hours inside her. When we leave here in the morning, she'll be taking every piece of my heart with her. And she'll go knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'll be coming home to me.
I refuse to let her doubt that for even a minute. Doesn't matter if I'm worried as fuck. Doesn't matter how I feel. The only thing that matters is her. I think she's been the only thing that's mattered in years.
I tried to bury myself in work. I tried to hide in numbers. I smiled in the right places. I said the right words. But every goddamn minute, part of me was missing. It vanished seven years ago.
I should have torn the world apart looking for her. Had I known that she wasn't where she wanted to be, had I suspected that she felt even an inkling of what I did…not a damn thing would have stopped me from doing exactly that. But I didn't know. I thought she drove out of Silver Spoon Falls to find something better…something that wasn't her father and wasn't me.
I'll never forgive myself for not knowing the truth.
But I know it now. And I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring that she's never anything but happy. That she's never anything but safe. That her money and her company and every single damn thing that belongs to her remain hers and only hers.
I'm one of those things. I'm hers. I'll only ever be hers. And I want myself branded in her psyche like a fucking tattoo before she leaves this house tomorrow.
She hurries across the floor to me, flinging herself against my chest. I boost her up in my arms, my lips coming down on hers in a hard kiss as her hands go to my hair, tugging and pulling.
"I love you," she whispers, the sweetest words I've ever heard.
"Good because you're all mine for the next twenty-four hours, baby," I growl, palming her ass as I stalk toward the sofa with her in my arms. "And I intend to spend every minute of it all over you."
"Yes," she moans, already writhing all over my cock.
I slide her down my body, spinning her until she's prostrate over the back of the sofa, her ass out, her tits against the fabric, her face buried in the cushions…looking like a pretty little goddess.
I rip her panties down her legs as I drop to my knees behind her, growling at the sight of her pussy peeping out at me, already wet and swollen. Already begging for me to feast and fuck.
I bury my face in her from behind, spreading her cheeks to get closer. She sobs and rocks back against my face, greedy and loud.
I have no manners when it comes to her. I'm just a slavering, snarling beast set loose on an angel. I eat and tease and torture her until she's begging me to fuck her, my name ringing around us in an endless litany.
She shatters with a pretty little scream when I slam myself inside, her head flying back. I grip her hair, pounding into her with my fingers on her clit.
"How many times do you think you can come before you pass out, hmm?" I ask, already dragging her back up the cliff. I drive into her again and again, loving the way her cunt grips me. Loving the way she moans and whimpers for me. Christ, there isn't a damn thing about this that isn't heaven. "Think I can keep you coming all day, baby?"
"No," she moans.
"Guess we're going to see, aren't we?" I fuck into her again and again, bringing her to orgasm until her knees buckle. Even then, I don't stop. I simply haul her up higher over the back of the sofa and start all over. Until every thrust has her whimpering, her pussy fluttering endlessly.
"Please, please," she gasps. "Please."
Even begging for mercy, she still tries to rock back against me, still tries to take more. It's like she just can't help herself.
I set my thumb against her clit, grinding in circles as I demand one more. Always, one more.
She whimpers, her inner muscles clenching and fluttering.
"Give it to me, baby," I groan. "Come one more time."
My name sounds so fucking sweet leaving her lips as she cracks for me, convulsing on my cock. I grunt, slamming myself deep as I follow her over this time. My balls draw up, my spine tingling as she milks every drop from me.
And I pray to God the whole damn time that if she isn't already pregnant, this time does it. That's what I want. My wife pregnant with my baby. The way she would have been long ago if not for her prick of a father.