Chapter Twenty-Three
Jet
The war room empties slowly, voices fading down the hallway until it’s just Justice and me. He’s still standing near the table, arms braced, eyes fixed on nothing.
“You okay?” I ask.
He looks up, and that storm-gray stare hits me like a punch to the chest. “We need to talk,” he says quietly. “About your memories.”
I nod, even though my stomach twists. The things I remember… and the things I don’t… they scare me more than bullets ever could.
He leads me down the hall and up the stairs, past locked doors, until we reach his room. He gestures for me to sit, but I don’t. I stand close instead, too close, maybe because I want to see what kind of man hides behind that hard jaw and steady voice.
“Close your eyes,” he says. “Just breathe. Tell me what you see when you think about the women who were in the Wheelers’ compound with you, especially the one you called Maria.”
The word alone sends a tremor through me. I shut my eyes. “Maria,” I whisper. “She had long dark hair with a gray streak on one side. She had little to do with me and the other women. They let her roam the compound on her own. No guards.”
“Could she have been working for the Wheelers?”
My eyes snap open. “But she was in with us.”
“Was she really? Or was she there to keep an eye on you all?”
Biting my lip, I nod slowly. “It would make sense.”
“What else can you remember about her?”
“She had a tattoo on her wrist, a pair of wings in red, outlined in black.”
Justice steps closer, his hand brushing my arm. I breathe him in, and my fingers move before my brain can stop them. I trace the line of his forearm, the muscle flexing under my touch. “Are you always this gentle with witnesses?” I murmur.
He chuckles low, a sound that curls through me and sends a shiver up my spine. “Only the ones who could burn me alive.”
We’re inches apart. “Careful, Justice,” I say, my voice dipping. “You might like the heat.”
“I already do.”
The air between us crackles. I reach for him again, my fingertips grazing the hollow of his neck, following it down until my knuckles brush the fabric of his shirt. His breath catches, and I can feel the restraint in him, the kind that makes a woman want to test every inch of his control.
He says my name once, rough, like it costs him. “Jet.”
“I’m remembering more,” I whisper, but I don’t move my hand. “Maria once talked about Casa del Sol—it’s a Mexican restaurant on Beach Boulevard.”
Justice frowns. “Why would you remember that?”
Smiling, I say, “Because I love Mexican food.”
I can’t stop tracing the ink on his forearm. “You’ve got your own marks,” I say softly. “Guess we both carry ghosts.”
His hand catches mine, but instead of pushing me away, he turns my wrist over and presses his lips to the inside. Just once. Just enough to make my knees weak.
“We’ll figure this out,” he says.
“Okay,” I whisper, leaning in so close our breath mingles.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I swear the world narrows down to that one impossible second before everything breaks. Then his self-control snaps.
Justice grips my hips and pushes me back, guiding me down onto the bed.
The mattress dips beneath me as his weight follows, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s all hunger and heat and unspoken need.
My hands find his shoulders, fingers digging into leather and muscle as his tongue slides against mine, claiming, tasting, demanding.
The world tilts. The only sound left are the harsh rhythm of our breathing and the soft drag of fabric as his hand slides along my side. Every brush of his lips feels like a spark catching fire, and I can’t tell where my body ends and his begins.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard.
“You make it hard to think straight,” he mutters, voice rough and low.
“Good,” I smile against his lips, still breathless. “Maybe it’s time someone else messed with your head for a change.”
His laugh is dark and delicious, the sound of control slipping away. And as his gaze searches mine, I realize that for the first time since my release, I’m not afraid.
I’m alive.
“Kiss me like you mean it.”
With a low growl, Justice nips my bottom lip and kisses me slowly.
This man knows how to kiss.
He tastes of danger and heat.
His hand travels down my side, to my waist, and then he lifts my T-shirt. Justice’s fingers lightly graze my bare skin then pulls down my bra. His rough hand massages my breast, fingers tweaking my nipple until it pebbles.
My body is betraying every wall I ever built.
The kiss breaks when he stands, boots thudding to the floor like a promise of what’s next.
This man is sexy. His body is strong, and his tattoos follow the lines of his muscles.
Every make tells a story, and I want to learn them all.
Justice comes back to me, kissing up my stomach and sucking on my nipple. His tongue flicks across it, and I whimper.
“Justice,” I whisper.
His mouth comes back to mine, fingers digging into my jaw, then his tongue slips past my lips. My hands wrap around the back of his neck.
I don’t want this to end, I don’t want him to stop.
Don’t think, Jet, just feel.
With each stroke of his tongue, my body aches for him. Justice rolls his hips between my legs, and I can feel how hard he is through the thin material of my leggings and panties.
My stomach flips and turns, and my nerve endings are on fire, want more and more of him.
Rocking my hips against him, I realize this isn’t like last time. This is so much better.
Breaking the kiss, I suck on his shoulder and then bite it lightly. He hisses against my neck, so I bit him harder and he bucks against me.
Justice massages my breast and sucks on my earlobe. His hand slides down the front of my leggings, past my panties and pushes two fingers inside me.
“You’re so wet for me, Jet.”
My body arches against him, and I groan.
Justice moves his fingers in and out, stroking the right spot, over and over. I’m lost in him and the sensations he’s eliciting from my body.
No fear, only fire.
I’m rocking against his hand, and I’m almost there when Justice stands and pulls my leggings and panties down my legs.
Frustrated, I growl at him. “Justice.”
He chuckles, cock in his hand, stroking himself, and I swear I’ve never seen a more manly sight.
“Needy woman.”
I nod, and his smile widens.
“Trust me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply. And I mean it. This man hasn’t hurt me.
He’s taken care of me. No one’s ever asked me to trust them before.
Not like the others. The Crimson Wheelers, who took what they wanted, and never asked. They only hurt me and seemed to like it.
“Jet, it’s just you and me in this room. No one else. Eyes on me, baby. Let me make you feel good.”
Baby?
Ooh, I like that.
Sitting up, I take off my tank and bra and then scoot further up the bed.
Justice bends, one hand planted on the bed, eyes locked to mine, and kisses my leg, just below my knee.
“Spread your legs, baby.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I do as he says.
My pulse is a drum, and he’s keeping time.
He crawls up the bed, his face inches from my pussy. I should be embarrassed, but Justice makes me feel safe.
“Wider.”
Closing my eyes, I bend my knees and do as he says.
Justice blows on my pussy, and my eyes snap open.
“Better. Keep your eyes on me.”
He lowers his head, and his tongue goes inside me, his hands grip my ass as he laps, sucks and continues to plunge his tongue into me.
The tattoos on his shoulders ripple as he continues to work my body into a frenzy.
The orgasm that washes through me as I grind into his face hits hard and fast. I’m helpless as my body shatters, and I feel weightless. Floating on the pleasure that rocks through me.
He’d never break me, but with each kiss, each touch, every kind word he’s putting me back together.
Justice stops, positions his cock at my entrance and slams into me.
He’s watching my face, making sure I’m okay. But this is what I need. His cock inside me, Justice slamming into me again and again.
A whimper escapes me as I spread my legs wider for him. He stops and looks down at me.
“Please, don’t stop.”
Smiling, he lowers himself on top of me, kisses me and eases himself all the way in again. The hard plains of stomach feel good against my bare skin, and he thrusts into me faster, and faster.
Every thrust steals another piece of my doubt.
Another climax is building. My body is on fire as he hits the right spot time and again and once again.
The noises I make are nothing short of animalistic as he pounds into me.
How can something feel this good?
And then I shatter, my nails drag down his back, and I clamp down on his shoulder with my teeth.
With my body still twitching in pleasure, Justice pulls out and flips me over.
“On your knees.”
Wanting more, I do as he says, ass in the air, elbows bent ready and waiting for him.
“That’s my girl.”
One of his hands pulls my hair into a ponytail, and he wraps it around his fist.
His cock slides into me from behind, his other hand digs into my hip and slams into me over and over.
Justice lets go of my hair and strokes my clit. Deft fingers that apply just the right amount of pressure, and I can feel my body building again.
When his fingers dig harder into my hip and he calls out my name, I come again.
Justice slams into me one last time and freezes for a moment.
My pussy is throbbing around him, and my only thought is: this is how it’s supposed to be.
Safe. Wanted. Seen. Cherished.
Justice bends and plants a kiss on my back. “Are you okay?”
A smile creases my face. “Better than okay,” I answer.
He thought he’d been rough with me and, like the good man he is, he’d taken care of me.
He’d made sure I was fine the whole way through, and he didn’t come inside me until I’d been sated. It’s a rare man who takes care of his woman before he pleases himself.
His woman?
My smile grows bigger, yeah, that’s what I am.
I’m not someone’s victim, I’m someone’s choice
I’m his, and Justice is mine.