Chapter Three
Jack
"Jesus Christ, Jack!" Dillon practically shouts at me as soon as he answers the phone. "I've been calling you for an hour to make sure you were still alive."
"I didn't hear my phone. I was busy."
Judging from the silence ringing down the line, the sheriff is cranky tonight. Typical. For a man as blissed out in love as he is, he's one crabby bastard.
"Who was in your pool house?"
"What?"
He growls like a rabid dog as I peek through the blinds at said pool house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Madison. I tried to convince her to come stay in the house with me, but I think I may have freaked her out a little with the having-my-baby talk. She decided to stay out there tonight.
I couldn't think of a single valid excuse to stay with her. I'm not happy about it. I'd much rather her be in my bed. You know, where I can keep an eye on her.
"Your pool house," Dillon growls. "Who was in it?"
Fate. Destiny. An angel straight from the past.
"Rats," I lie.
"What the fuck?"
"Apparently I have an infestation. They're probably attracted to the humidity from the heat pump under the pool house." If lying to an officer of the law is a crime…actually, it is a crime in certain situations. Whatever. I'm going to hell, sue me.
But I'm not ratting Madison out to the fucking sheriff. If she wants to hide out here and haunt her father until the bastard cracks, I'm down. Dillon probably won't see it that way. He has a legal obligation to do all the legal shit. Better not to involve him yet.
"Jesus Christ." His heavy sigh speaks volumes. "I thought you were dead. I'm going to fucking bed until Monday. Do not call me until then, Jack. I'm serious."
"For the record, I texted you. You called me. I told you it was probably a ghost. It's not my fault you got all bent out of shape," I remind him. He did that all by himself.
"When I drop dead, I'm haunting your new pool," he mutters. "I'm going to leave ectoplasm all over the goddamn thing."
"If that's a fancy way of saying you're going to beat off in my pool when you're dead, I will hire an exorcist and fill it with holy water, motherfucker."
Dillon laughs. "I'm not a demon, you asshole."
"Huh. Could have fooled me." I peek through the blinds again, scowling when I still don't see Madison. Would it be morally wrong to cut the power to the pool house so she has to move into the mansion? Asking for a friend. Obviously.
Dillon laughs again and then hangs up on me.
I drop my phone on my desk before peeking through the blinds again. Third time is not the charm. She's still out of sight.
"Dammit." I drop down into my chair, adjusting my dick. The bastard has been standing at attention since I pulled Madison onto my lap. Staring at her? Christ, it felt like staring down fate and looking into the past at the same damn time.
Of course I remember her. I've never fucking forgot her.
The night of the party, she was a pretty little angel dressed in pink, outshining everyone else by miles. Why the fuck Gerald dragged her out that night, I don't know. It was obvious she was still grieving her mom and didn't want to be there. But he dragged her all around the room like she was a showpiece, bragging about how she was the youngest millionaire in the room, and he was running her company for her.
He acted like her mother dying and leaving her a fortune and the company was some big accomplishment for her. It was obvious she hated every minute of it. And it was obvious that he didn't have a clue how goddamn heartless he sounded.
When some client's daughter insulted her dress, she looked like she wanted to cry. The way her chin wobbled broke my heart. Her prick of a father just chuckled instead of standing up for her, so I stepped in and told her that she looked beautiful. It was nothing but the truth. Even back then, she was radiant.
I still remember the way she looked at me like I was her fucking hero that night. It made me want to be her hero. I barely even heard the rest of the conversation because I was too busy staring at her. I…Christ, I intended to ask her out until her father mentioned her age. The way he'd been trying to get her to drink champagne all night to celebrate, I thought she was older than she was. Realizing she was still just a kid felt like a punch to the gut. And I felt like an asshole.
After she went missing, the way she looked at me that night haunted me for days. I donated fifty thousand to the reward fund, hoping that'd make me sleep better at night. It didn't. I even quietly looked into her disappearance myself, found out that she emptied Gerald's safe before she left.
I've never let myself question why I cared so much because it was a line that felt fucking wrong to cross. But part of me always hoped she got the fuck away from her father and was living her best life even if it was lightyears out of my reach. He's always been a greedy, self-serving prick. It was never as obvious as it was at that party, with him acting like he was high and mighty now that he was running his wife's company for Madison.
He didn't have a single thing to do with the company's success. From what I know about it, the perfume company was passed down to Madison's mother by her parents. I'm not surprised he wanted it for himself given how much it's worth, but trying to kill his own daughter to get it?
That's a level of fucked up beyond comprehension. Sadly, it's not entirely surprising coming from him. If anyone is capable of that kind of fuckery, it's him.
If Madison wants to make his life hell for a while, I'm more than happy to help. Christ, I'm down for whatever she wants to do.
Which is…honestly wild. Two hours ago, the last damn thing I wanted in my life was a woman. But no one told me Madison was an option. Had I known that? Well, shit might have been a lot different.
She isn't too goddamn young anymore. She isn't off-limits now.
She's still fucking stunning. The pretty little angel grew into a blonde hair, blue-eyed siren. She's lush and sweet, her body thick and perfect everywhere.
Every word those perfect lips form is dipped in cinnamon and sugar and doused in snark and flame. She isn't delicate. There's steel in her, and fire. It's a hell of a combination. One that has my cock aching like a motherfucker.
I squeeze myself through my pants, groaning at the memory of her lips against mine. They were so damn soft and pliable. She was so sweet and eager, like she was as desperate to kiss me as I was to kiss her.
Will she be just as sweet and eager—just as pliable and soft—when she's beneath me, moaning my name?
I close my eyes, imagining that very scene…her beneath me, moaning.
"Fucking hell," I groan, yanking my zipper down to free my cock. We've already established that I'm going to hell. Might as well take a little pressure off before I make the trip.
I delve my hand into my boxers, pulling out my cock. I picture Madison, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed. She's naked and trembling, reaching for me.
My name echoes in the room around us as my lips glide up her leg. I can't wait to taste her. I'll live between her legs, eating her for every damn meal. By the time she's wrapped around my cock, she'll be begging me to breed her.
Please, Jack. Please, fuck your baby into me. Fill me up.
I growl out loud at the thought, working my cock in a tight fist. She wants me to fill that perfect pussy? I won't quit until she's so full, she's dripping cum every minute of the day.
I'll possess her, own her…fucking worship her.
She'll be pregnant with my kid in no time, begging me to put my ring on her finger.
That picture slams into me—her naked, wearing nothing but my ring and my marks—and my balls cinch up tight. I jerk my cock harder, growling her name.
My head tips back against the chair, my breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck, baby," I groan, hips bucking wildly as I come all over the goddamn place. "Fuck."
I work out every last drop, hanging onto that image of her in my ring until my dick is so sensitive I'm trembling. The bastard doesn't go down. He just hangs between my legs, hard and heavy, as if asking when the fuck he's going to get the real thing.
"Soon," I growl, snatching a handful of tissues from the holder to clean myself up. I pretend I'm not talking to my cock. And that I'm not losing my mind over a woman I thought was forever out of my reach until an hour ago.
But…I am. Christ, am I ever.
"Shoot. It's him," Madison grumbles from the other side of the pool house door when I tap on it early the next morning.
"Would you prefer the sheriff, baby?" I call through the heavy wood, smirking as I juggle a breakfast tray.
She mutters something I don't hear. Whatever it is, I'm guessing it isn't a compliment, and then unlocks the door for me.
My dick immediately stiffens, pressing up against my fly. Fuck me. She's even more beautiful first thing in the morning. There's a pillow crease on her cheek, and her hair is a wild mess around her face. I can see her nipples—her perfect, hard little nipples—through her tank top.
"My eyes are up here, Jack."
"So they are. But if they're going to stare at me, I'm going to stare back, baby." I lift my gaze to her face, grinning.
She rolls her eyes, scowling as she crosses her arms over her chest to hide her tits. "It's way too early for you to be this aggravating."
"I've heard sleeping with a guilty conscience is hard." I gently nudge her aside before stepping around her, making sure I brush up against her. Fuck me. She's so soft and warm. "You'd probably sleep easier in my bed. Snuggled up against me. Safe." My lips brush her ear.
She whimpers, her eyes going glossy. And then she seems to remember that she's trying to resist me or whatever bullshit she talked herself into because she immediately squeaks and pulls away.
"Too early," she mumbles before dashing down the short hall. "Way too early."
I chuckle, setting the tray on the island separating the living room from the kitchen as she vanishes into her room. I spy her phone and pick it up, grinning when I realize she doesn't even have a passcode set. I quickly dial my number from hers, waiting until mine vibrates in my pocket so I have her number and then I disconnect and program my info into her contacts before putting it back where I got it from.
Not even two minutes later, she reappears with her hair in a messy bun and a robe on over her pajamas.
"Is that coffee?" she asks, her eyes narrowed on the tray.
"Depends." I hold up the carafe.
"On what?"
"If you're feeling talkative this morning."
"No one feels talkative in the morning without coffee, Jack," she scoffs. "If they do, they aren't human."
"I haven't had coffee."
"You're proving my point for me," she says sweetly.
I laugh quietly, shaking my head. "Have you always been this vicious?"
"No." Her shoulders slump, a shadow passing through her eyes. "But I was on my own at eighteen with eight thousand dollars to my name, a father who wanted to kill me, and no identity."
"Jesus." I swallow, my jaw pulsing as I pour her a cup of coffee. "Why didn't you come to me, baby?"
"You didn't even know me, Jack," she whispers sadly. "We met once."
"I would have helped you," I growl, gritting my teeth. Maybe that meeting wasn't significant for her, but it damn sure was for me.
She stares at me for a long moment, completely silent. "No one knew me. I was just the poor little rich girl who lost her mom. I had no friends because I did an independent study program from home because my mom's immune system was so compromised. Her friends stopped coming around after her second round with cancer. I couldn't go to any of his friends because I didn't know which he was paying." Her shoulders bounce in a shrug. "I didn't think anyone else would believe me when I had no evidence. At best, he'd convince them that I was crazy, and I'd end up in a straitjacket. He'd get exactly what he wanted without even ending my life."
I want to argue that she's wrong…but hell. Maybe she isn't. Had she come to me back then, what would I have said? What would I have done? I would have believed her. Of course I would have. But could I have helped? I don't fucking know. Maybe I would have made things worse, and she would have ended up exactly where she feared—in a straitjacket while her father took her company and her money anyway.
I place the mug in front of a stool and then set a plate beside it.
Her eyes widen. "You cooked for me?"
"Figured you probably haven't been doing much of that the last few days."
"I've been eating," she protests.
"I said cooking, Madison." I arch a brow at her. "Cereal, pop-tarts, and whatever you've raided from the pantry isn't food."
"Then why is it in the pantry?"
I smile despite myself. "This is how Drake feels every day, isn't it?"
Her brows furrow as she hops up onto the stool, carefully keeping that damn robe belted closed. "Isn't Drake your brother?"
"Mmhmm. He thinks I'm a pain in the ass."
"In that case, I wholeheartedly agree."
I chuckle, pointing a fork at her. "Eat your damn breakfast, baby."
She shoots me a tiny smirk before taking the fork. I watch, impressed and turned the fuck on, as she inhales the bacon, eggs, and toast, moaning like she hasn't eaten in a year. It should not be nearly as fucking sexy as it is. And yet, by the time she's finished, I kind of want to sweep the dishes off the island, toss her gorgeous ass up there and eat her.
A woman not afraid to eat like there's no one watching? Fuck yes.
I make a mental note to cook for her often.
"Feel better?" I ask when she pushes her plate away, groaning in satisfaction.
"Maybe." She eyes me skeptically. "Depends on if you're going to pretend I didn't just demolish breakfast like I have no manners."
"I'm actually trying to talk myself out of fucking you like I have none." I sip my coffee, eyeing her over the rim. "I like watching you eat."
She blushes from the top of her robe to her roots. "If I'm going to be squatting here, we need to set some ground rules."
"Oh, we do, do we?" It's cute that she thinks she gets to set rules.
"Yes. Definitely." She bobs her head for emphasis.
"Let's hear them then."
"No talking about having sex with me. No talking about getting me pregnant. And absolutely no more kissing me."
"Yeah, fuck all that bullshit, Madison." I set my cup down, stalking toward her. I cage her in with my arms on either side of her, planting my lips right up against the side of her throat. Even though she tries like hell to hold herself rigid, she still leans into me. "Here are my rules, baby. I will be talking about fucking you. I am going to get you pregnant. And we will be doing a whole helluva lot more than kissing."
"Jack," she whimpers.
"Also, you're moving out of the pool house into the main house." I nip the shell of her ear. "No negotiations."
"But…"
"There are rats out here," I lie.
"R-rats?"
"Giant, smelly rats."
"Maybe I should move into the main house," she whispers. "J-just in case."
"Yeah, maybe you should." I nip her ear again to hide my smile. If this is what winning feels like, it's fucking great. "You can do that while I'm at work today. And then we'll go to dinner at Drake's."
You know that scene in The Exorcist where the possessed girl's head turns all the goddamn way around and she's screaming "Fuck me!"? Madison's head damn near does that.
"W-what? Dinner where? Why?"
"Dinner with my brother and his wife. At their house." I tilt her head back, brushing my lips across hers. "Because I said so."
"You can't just…"
"I can." I kiss her again. Fuck, do I really need to work today? "You've been hiding out here for three days, baby. You need to see something other than the blue paint. And they don't live in Silver Spoon Falls, so it'll be fine."
She stares at me with wide eyes, doubt written plainly on her face.
"It'll be fine, baby."
"Says you," she finally mutters. "It's not your life on the line."
"Hey." I force her to look at me. "Do you think I'm going to let anything happen to the mother of my children? Hell no."
"Children?" she splutters. "Jesus, Jack. Maybe you're the one with a concussion. You've moved awfully fast from, "Me man, me tie you to bed" to, "You woman, you have all me babies"."
"It's a logical progression, Madison." I brush my thumb across her bottom lip before reluctantly releasing her. "And it isn't awfully fast. It's been seven goddamn years in the making."
I step away, leaving her gaping at me, the shock evident on her face.
"Yeah, I said what I said. See you after work." I stride for the door, only to pause. "Move your shit into the main house. I left it unlocked for you."