Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4)

by Shauna Allen

  “What did the cops do?” Delilah asked.

  “There’s nothing they can do until he violates the order.”

  “So, he has to get close enough to hurt you before they’ll do something?” Delilah’s face was growing red with anger. “That’s bullshit.”

  “That’s how it works unfortunately,” Rachel added softly. The lawyer of the group, she understood the intricacies of all this business better than the rest of us. During one of our talks, Jewel had told me that Rachel helped her get the restraining order and I was so thankful she had good friends.

  “He’s not getting close enough to hurt her,” I vowed, my voice steel-laced granite.

  All eyes swung to me. “You can’t be there all the time, man.”

  I flinched at Jesse’s words, the truth of them the one thing that haunted my dreams now.

  “No, he can’t,” Jewel cut in, squeezing my hand. “But surely Nolan knows we’re onto him now and that the police are involved. He’d be stupid to try anything else. Besides, if he did, I’m in this great self-defense class.” She attempted a smile, but I saw the fear she masked.

  She spent the next thirty minutes answering questions and fielding concerns, while I stared off into the night. By the time we left, I was emotionally exhausted. I could only imagine how she was feeling.

  “I’m fine,” she answered when I asked her once we were alone in the Jeep.

  I didn’t believe her, but I was happy to have her to myself again and to be headed home. She said nothing when we got to the apartment and shut herself into the bathroom, where I heard her run a bath.

  Swallowing the lump of lust in my throat, I forced myself to get ready for bed and ignore the fact that Jewel Jackson was naked in my home. But I couldn’t help but want her in my bed again. Minus the nightmare. She had been as soft as a dream and her curves fit into my body perfectly. I was aching to make her mine. Totally.

  She appeared at my bedroom door a bit later, her hair damp, her face flushed. Her bare feet poked out of the bottom of her nightie and she smelled like Heaven. “Goodnight.”

  The breath was expelled from my lungs in a rush. “Stay with me tonight?”

  Her green eyes became nearly black as her pupils dilated. The air between us changed, sparked. She studied my face as if seeking a hidden meaning to my words.

  I stepped back and drew down the comforter to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come here.”

  She didn’t hesitate. She walked over and stood in front of me. I opened my knees and guided her hips closer to nuzzle her belly with my nose. She smelled like honeysuckle and roses. “Stay with me tonight,” I repeated, kissing her hip. “Please.”

  “I’m not sure . . . are we ready?” Her voice was breathless and slow like molasses.

  I lifted my gaze to hers. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I just need to have you near me. You’re healing me.”

  She melted into my lap and cuddled in. “I think you’re healing me.”

  “We’re healing each other,” I whispered against the skin of her throat.

  I shifted until we were underneath the covers and clicked off the lamp, bathing us in darkness. As my eyes adjusted, it seemed like her hair glowed in the night. I ran my fingers through the silky strands. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Her body stilled. “No, you’re not.”

  “You may not like it, but it’s still the truth.” She started to roll away from me, but I drew her back and wrapped myself around her. “Don’t. Don’t let your past cloud your future.” I kissed her brow. “I’ve literally spent years closing myself off from everyone and everything. I had no desire to feel because all I could feel was pain. The pain is still there, but now there’s you, and you make it all worthwhile. Please don’t pull away from me now.”

  “It’s so hard to see what you could possibly love about me,” she admitted in a whisper.

  “My God, Jewel. What’s not to love about you?” I pressed the hair back from her face and ran my knuckles gently down her neck. “You’re so beautiful it takes my breath away.” I shushed her denial. “You’re kind, you’re strong, you’re great at Twenty Questions.”

  Her eyes dipped as she bit back a smile. “I could say the same about you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’ll stay tonight? I won’t push for anything more if you’re not ready.”

  The longer she was silent, the louder my heart pounded, until I was sure she could hear it thumping madly between us.

  Finally, her hand traced down my shoulder to my bicep. “I’ll stay.”

  Thank fuck.

  We snuggled in together, wrapped up like spoons with my front to her back, our fingers laced over her stomach, as we picked up our game of questions.

  “Who’s the guy?” I asked first.

  “What guy?”

  “The one you said asked you out.”

  She hesitated, probably sensing my silly jealousy. “Officer Varga.”

  “Officer? As in from work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was he the guy we ran into at the grocery store?” I vaguely recalled the tall guy with thinning hair that eyed her like a piece of candy. I didn’t like him.

  “That’s him.”

  I digested this. “You said no, right? That’s not happening.”

  “It wasn’t ever going to happen. No sparks. At least not on my end.”

  I let this mollify me a tad. We had enough sparks to light up Times Square. “Okay. Your turn.”

  “Do you want kids?” she asked.

  “Yes.” There was a time I thought I’d be a horrible father with all my baggage, but as my friends started having kids, I realized that may not be true. Maybe. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was simple, but I had a hard time deciphering the emotion hidden beneath it. “How many do you want?”

  I thought a moment, weighing my words. I didn’t want to scare her off. “A lot.”

  She tilted her head toward mine. “How many is ‘a lot’?”

  “You sure you wanna know?”

  “No.”

  I laughed and kissed her nose. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Okay. How many?”

  “Maybe six?”

  “Six?” She sounded as shocked as I figured she’d be.

  “Or seven.”

  She shifted away toward the window. “Wow.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I’m not your wife. Those won’t be my kids.” Her voice was soft, vulnerable.

  The first thought that ripped through my head was denial. Of course those would be her kids. Our kids. But I held my words back, not wanting to frighten her with my intensity.

  We were quiet a moment, then she said, “Your turn.”

  “Are you scared of him?” I asked the question that had been ricocheting around my mind since I found her trembling in the parking lot talking to the police.

  She paused, thinking. “Yes and no. Yes, because I know what he’s capable of, and no, because I’m stronger than I was. I’ll never cower like that again. To anyone.”

  I kissed her shoulder. “I’m glad.”

  She went for the jugular. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Yes.”

  She tensed, but didn’t say a word.

  “Twice. Jessica Royce, fifth grade . . . and now.”

  Jewel did not move, barely breathed. “Are you serious?” she finally asked.

  “Very. Jessica was my first kiss, you know.”

  She rolled and faced me, tears quivering in her eyes like pools of light.

  I leaned in, my hand cupping her head. “I’m serious.”

  “Oh.” She curled into me so close I could hardly tell where I ended and she began. “I think . . . me, too.”

  An emotion I’d never felt before rose up in my chest and lingered like a bubble, ready to pop. It floated there, almost painfully, then burst to bathe my insides with cont
entment like I’d never known. It was all suddenly so clear. Everything in my life, everything, had led me to this moment, to this woman. She was it for me, always had been.

  My hand grazed down her waist and hip, as far as I could reach with the hold she had on me. I caressed, hiking up her gown to feel the flesh of her thigh. She gasped but relaxed into my hold. I slid the material a tiny bit higher, waiting for her to stop me.

  “Micah . . .” My name was a breathless plea on her lips.

  I nudged her to her back and used a finger to draw her gown to the tops of both thighs then caressed down to one knee. “Will you let me touch you?”

  Her eyes slid closed. “Yes.”

  I slid up to sitting, the hem of her gown in my hand. “Stop me anytime. I’ll never hurt you, I swear it.”

  Her eyes met mine, mirroring my own hunger. “I know.”

  She shifted and let me lift her nightgown off, exposing her bare flesh only covered in skimpy panties now. I gently uncrossed her arms, where she’d moved to cover her breasts. “Please don’t. You’re beautiful.”

  Slowly, her arms fell away. I cupped one breast, ran my thumb along the nipple. She moaned softly and I experimented with the perfect, full weight of them. I leaned down and suckled one into my mouth and her back bowed off the bed.

  I took my time learning all I could of her body. Her breathy reactions to my touch, my tongue. What gave her goosebumps, what made her cry out. She was a masterclass in erotic perfection.

  I slid her panties down her legs and tossed them to the floor with her gown. Straddling her legs, I ran my hands up her sides, memorizing the feel of her, indulging in every dip and curve. She lifted her arms above her head and gripped my headboard, giving me the gift of her trust. I planted open-mouthed kisses between her breasts, to her ribs, stomach, her hips. I traced my fingertips down her legs, following with my mouth. I was on a mission to erase every touch from another man from her memory.

  She was mine now.

  Her legs spread a fraction as I made my way back up, her body pliant beneath my hands. “Please, Micah.”

  “Say it again,” I whispered, my breath brushing her intimately. I nuzzled her with my nose.

  “Please . . .” She writhed beneath me.

  “My name.” I dipped my tongue to taste her, to tease.

  “Micah!” Her hands were suddenly fisted in my hair as I dove into her sweetness. And, God, she was sweet.

  I kissed and suckled and lapped at her until she was panting above me, her hips grinding to meet my mouth. I felt her tremble as she teetered on the edge, but held herself back. But I wanted it. I wanted it all.

  I added my fingers, curling into her as I made love to her with my mouth. She detonated with a cry, convulsing around me. I’d never seen anything more glorious.

  I pressed one last kiss to her thigh then crawled up her body to kiss her lips. Her contented moan vibrated against my mouth as she wrapped her arms around me. She was sated and relaxed and loose in my arms. I scooted us until we were spooned again then nuzzled the back of her neck. “Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams.”

  She murmured a goodnight back to me as her breathing deepened. She was at peace and that gave me peace. I didn’t need anything more.

  Jewel

  I woke up in Micah’s arms again, but this time there were no nightmares. Only peace. Beautiful peace. I rolled gently and faced him. Coal black lashes shadowed his stubbled cheeks. His face was relaxed, almost childlike, in sleep. I’d never seen him so content.

  I let my gaze slide down his chiseled body, to caress his chest, his abs, that incredible V of his hips, where his boxers rode low. My mind grappled with everything that had happened. Micah opening up to me, telling me his secret torment. Nolan showing up again. The fact that this beautiful man had told me he was in love with me—I still had a hard time believing that one, even after the way he’d worshipped my body last night. There was no other way to describe the exquisite way he’d touched me. My cheeks flamed as I remembered how he’d played me like an instrument, bringing out a tune I never knew my soul could sing. And I hadn’t returned the favor.

  My eyes lifted to his face. He was awake and staring at me now.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was coated with the barbs of sleep.

  “Nothing. I’m just . . . I’m sorry. About last night.” I stammered and hated it.

  “You’re sorry?” His gaze was pained.

  “Not about that . . . I mean, I’m sorry I fell asleep before . . .”

  He softened and caressed my arm. “Don’t be sorry. That was the most perfect night of my life.”

  “Really?”

  “It was spectacular. Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

  I felt the evidence of how perfect it was pressed against my hip. “Even if . . . ?”

  His half-grin made me melty. “Even if. There’s plenty of time for that. When you’re ready.”

  I leaned in and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and rolled to sitting with a yawn. “You okay with going in to work a little early this morning? Blake told me a rush job was dropped at the shop yesterday that he needs me to start on right away.”

  “Sure.”

  I watched him rise and pad to his dresser and yank on a T-shirt. “You can borrow one of my shirts if you want.”

  “Why would I borrow a shirt?”

  He winked. “I wanna see you in it. Come on, gorgeous. We have time for breakfast first.” He walked out, leaving me gaping.

  Slowly, I rose and moved to his dresser. I opened the top drawer and found socks and boxers. I moved on to the second drawer. Bingo. I rifled through shop shirts and a couple concert T-shirts, until I found a pile of plain white ones on the bottom. I grabbed the last one and my hand brushed something metal that clanked against the wood of the dresser as I drew the shirt out. I moved the other clothes out of the way.

  Dog tags.

  I drew out his tags and flipped the cool metal over in my hand, reading the inscription. His name, social security number, blood type, and religious preference. Pain sliced through me as I realized what these were for. It could’ve just as easily been him that was killed in Afghanistan then we wouldn’t have this chance we have now.

  I squeezed his tags tightly as my eyes slid closed and I tried to picture an existence without him in it.

  “What are you doing?”

  My eyes popped open and my heart thumped at his angry words. “Nothing. I was just getting a shirt like you told me. I found these . . .” The painful fire in his eyes took me back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Put them back,” he bit out. “Please.”

  “But—”

  “I told you I don’t like to remember. Just because I trusted you with the truth doesn’t mean I want to rehash it.”

  “Fine.” I slid them back and slammed the drawer closed. I tossed the shirt I’d selected onto the bed. “I’m gonna get ready for work. I’ll drive myself today.” I turned away from him as angry tears filled my eyes.

  “You will not.” His words were softer, but still held an edge.

  I faced him. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Then don’t. We agreed. I’m driving you.” He spun away and strode down the hall again.

  I stood there listening to him slam around the kitchen. I knew he was emotional and that I’d never fully understood what he’d experienced, but I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought he said he loved me. Why would he shut me out now? I stupidly found myself envious of his military friends. They were the only ones who truly knew him, what haunted him, and I desperately wanted to.

  Confused as hell, I dug through my bag, found some clean clothes, and yanked them on. I ran a brush through my hair then met him in the kitchen. He seemed calmer as he sipped a shake, his gaze unfocused. When he heard me, he straightened and set his drink down.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

  “Okay.” I brush
ed past him and, in an act of rebellion, reached past him for the box of Pop-Tarts. I ripped open a package and took a big bite.

  He just stared at me, his eyes inscrutable. “You’re pissed.” He stated the obvious, which only made me madder.

  “Gee. What makes you say that?” I shoved another bite in my mouth, a bit surprised at my own behavior. I’d never acted like this before. I’d always been more of a put-up and shut-up kinda girl.

  He spun away and chugged the last of his disgusting green concoction then snatched up his keys. “Ready?”

  I gaped. “You’re really not going to say anything?”

  He paused but didn’t face me. “You said you didn’t want to fight.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind.” It felt good to raise my voice.

  His head dropped. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “I just can’t, okay?”

  I frowned at his back, utterly confused. Then it dawned on me. He wasn’t ready to go back to the war, even in his mind. He’d given me what he could and here I was yelling at him. I was the world’s biggest jerk.

  I hugged him from behind. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  He spun and hugged me back. “Don’t be sorry, baby. I understand. I told you I’m not the easiest guy to be around, but I hope you’ll be patient with me. I’m trying.”

  “I know you are.”

  He kissed the crown of my head. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah.”

  We stepped outside and he locked the door behind us. “You need something to eat or will that Pop Tart hold you?” He was smirking.

  “Sugar and carbs will hold me just fine, thank you.”

  He laughed and drove me to work.

  “See you later.” I stretched over and smacked a kiss on his cheek, then rushed inside before he could follow me.