Drogo’s tail wagged faster and faster. He must have understood what Chrissy had just agreed to.
“No. Not at your brother’s. Here, at my house, with me and Drogo. You’re staying with me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You sound surprised, Daniels.”
“I am. You never do anything I ask of you.”
“Well, this time I guess you win. I’ll stay.” She smiled, but a second later began yawning.
“Come on, baby. It’s been a long day. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Bed.” She smiled dreamily. “My bed.”
“Yes, baby. Your bed in your new home.” He picked her up and began walking upstairs with her as she nuzzled her face into his neck.
“It’s been a long time since I felt like I had a home.”
“Well, get used to it, ’cause this is home.” That was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep.
“Jack, baby, can you come here please?”
Chrissy was lying naked in his bathtub. He tried to swallow, but nothing happened. “Y-yes?”
“Can you wash my back, please?”
He walked over and grabbed the sponge and soap. “Chrissy, honey, are you trying to seduce me again?”
“Jack,” she whined, “it’s been over a week and you haven’t so much as touched me.”
Jack laughed as he began to wash her back. “Chrissy, I don’t think you can handle me touching you just yet. You’re still not completely healed.”
“But—” Just then there was a knock at the front door.
“That’s Slade. Get dressed and come downstairs. He’s been coming around to talk to you every day, but I haven’t wanted anyone to upset you, so I told him he couldn’t talk to you about … you know, things just yet. But since you’re recovered enough to want to have sex, you’re recovered enough to talk to your big brother.”
Chrissy let out a groan. “I’m not in the mood to be scolded.”
“I think you’ll be surprised when you hear what he has to say.” He handed her a towel. “Meet you downstairs.”
Chrissy dried herself off, got dressed, and hesitantly walked downstairs. Slade was sitting at the dining room table.
“Hey there.” Slade stood as soon as he saw her.
“Jack?”
“Went for a jog by the beach. Probably to give us some privacy.” She nodded. “Sit with me?” Slade pointed to the chair next to his.
“Of course.” Chrissy sat down, and Slade did the same. As soon as Slade opened his mouth to speak, Drogo began to growl.
“Drogo!” she said sternly. “Time out, boy. Stop growling at Slade. Go upstairs.”
Slade laughed. “He’s not a person, Chris, he isn’t going to—” And then the pup, his tail literally between his legs, his tiny face dejected, moped all the way upstairs. “Wow. That was just … wow.”
“I have to see if I can get him to like you. He really doesn’t seem too fond of you, though. It will be a challenge,” she said, and smiled.
“You look better. This bruise here”—his finger grazed a bruise under her eye—“looked worse yesterday. You scared the shit out of me, Chris. When Jack called and said you’d been in an accident, I thought … well, I thought so many things.” He took a deep breath before he continued, “Jack told me you told him about Brian and Dad.” She nodded but didn’t say anything. “Listen, Chris, I think you’ve got the wrong impression about what happened all those years ago.”
“What do you mean?” She couldn’t help tearing up. She wasn’t in the mood to be reprimanded about her actions. When would she finish serving her penance? “I know I caused everything. I know that Dad is dead because of me. I don’t need you to remind me, Slade. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I don’t know what else to do to make things better between us. At the funeral, you told me how you felt. I get it. Really, I do. I don’t need you to tell me again.”
He put his hand on her mouth to shut her up. He wasn’t normally much of a talker or a serious guy, and seeing him so somber made her uneasy. “God, you’re always so doom and gloom,” he told her. “Listen to me for a moment. Jack told me about the conversation you and I had at Dad’s funeral. Chris, why have you held that in for so many years? You should have talked to me about it. I swear to God, Chrissy, I don’t remember saying all those horrible things to you. I don’t believe them. If I said it, it was out of anger and ’cause I was a drunk jerk. But I didn’t mean it. I spent two weeks completely obliterated. If it had alcohol, I drank it. It was stupid, but I was stupid. I didn’t know how to cope, so I thought it would be easier to be numb. When I finally sobered up, you were gone and I was alone. Over ten years ago I lost my sister and my father on the same day. I know you think I was a shitty brother, and maybe I was, but, sis, you were kind of shitty too. I mean, I called you a lot, but you were never around. I know you traveled all over the world, but you didn’t keep in touch. In fact, I think I called you more than you called me.”
“I thought you blamed me. Every time I saw that you had called, I was waiting for you to remind me what I did to you. To us. To Dad.”
“I didn’t blame you, Chris. How could I? Yeah, I was mad at you for keeping the Brian thing a secret. I was mad at you for not letting me go kick his ass. But none of it was your fault. Not one damn thing. Dad and I did the best we could with you. Mom died when you were only two years old. She was fine one day and then she discovered the breast cancer and within a month she was gone. Suddenly Dad had this little girl to raise, and as you and I grew up, I felt I had to protect you, but I didn’t really know how. I didn’t have any women in my life to guide me, and you were such a pain in the ass sometimes, always wanting to hang around when I wanted to keep you away from my troublemaking—and keep you out of harm’s way. I’d already lost Mom, and I didn’t want to lose you too. I guess I went about it the wrong way. Instead of keeping you safe, I pushed you away. I wasn’t good at the ‘I love you’ stuff and the hugs and all the other girl things you probably needed. But that didn’t mean I didn’t love you then, or that I don’t love you now.”
“You didn’t push me away. I thought you hated me. I thought you saw me as a pest. And when Dad died because of me … because I came back and told him about Brian …”
“You’re my little sister, Chris. I never wanted you to leave, and I certainly didn’t blame you for Dad’s death.”
She sniffled. “We should’ve had this talk a long time ago, huh?”
“Yeah. We should’ve. God, Chrissy, I was so scared. I thought you were going to die and I would never be able to tell you that I loved you and that I was sorry for being a shitty brother.” Just then they heard the door open and close. Jack came in and leaned against the doorframe. He smiled, and she returned it. But she had to finish this conversation with her brother. That was the most important thing at the moment.
“I’m sorry for leaving, Slay … both times. And I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m fine now. Really. I am. You don’t have to worry about me.” She looked over to Jack.
“You haven’t called me that in years,” her brother told her. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry for being such a crappy brother and for calling you to fix my stupid mistakes. I was mad you left, and I guess I did take advantage of you by asking you to bail me out of my problems all those times. I see why you assumed I blamed you. You deserved better from me. I’m the older brother, and I should’ve been there to take care of you. I love you, sis. And I’d like you to come home for good. Isn’t there a place you can work here in town? At least when you’re not traveling?”
“I didn’t renew my contract. I won’t be traveling anymore,” said Chrissy.
“You didn’t?”
“No. I didn’t. I got a job offer in Miami and was thinking about accepting it. In fact, I was meeting with them the day of the accident. I’d decided to come back here instead of accepting the position.”
“You didn’t accept it?” Slade re
peated, as if he couldn’t believe it.
She shook her head. “I’m staying here, with Jack.” She glanced at her man, standing by the door. He gifted her with his dimpled smile.
“It’s about damn time. I saw this happening twenty years ago,” Slade said, pointing at the two of them. “Now I’m going to head out and check up on Jessica. We good?” Slade asked Chrissy.
“Never better,” she replied. Slade reached toward Chrissy for a hug and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Glad we had this talk.”
“Me too. Bye, Slay.”
“So …,” Jack said as he sat on the couch flipping through the TV channels.
“So …,” Chrissy said back. “Are you just going to sit there all day looking hot?”
“You think I’m hot?”
Chrissy grabbed one of the decorative pillows from the couch and threw it playfully at him.
“I guess you really are starting to feel better.” He leaned closer to her and placed a kiss on her head.
“Jack, I’m fine. Seriously, I’ve been home over two weeks. Dr. Stevens gave me the all-clear just this morning. I can’t believe you won’t sleep with me.”
Chrissy inched her way closer to him, tracing his jaw with her finger, kissing his neck. Even though the bruises were almost gone—all that remained were some yellowish patches around her cheekbone—she still looked so fragile, Jack thought. He wanted her, of course. Honestly, he’d wanted her the day she came home from the hospital, but what kind of sick fuck wants to screw his beautiful girlfriend the day she gets released from the hospital all battered and bruised? This sick bastard did! But that was something he was going to keep to himself. She still had dull headaches almost daily. He didn’t think she was ready to make love, and he was terrified of hurting her.
But if there was one thing he knew about Chrissy, it was that when she set her mind to something, she was relentless. Her teeth nibbled his neck and kissed behind his ear. The little minx snuck her hand under his shirt and traced his chest with her nails. She was on her knees on the couch right next to him, her body inching closer and closer, her hands running up and down his chest and her mouth exploring every inch of his neck up to his jaw and then his mouth. Her hands found his nipple and she pinched.
“Ah, hell. You sure you’re up for this, Chrissy? Because that pinch went straight to my dick, and now I don’t know if I can say no.”
She continued to kiss him. “Then don’t say no,” she whispered.
He didn’t hesitate, and stood up with her in his arms.
She laughed. “I can walk.”
“You can, but that’s no fun.”
When they got to his bedroom, he looked at the happy dog who was standing by the door wagging. “Sorry, my man. I got the girl. Today you stay outside.” He stuck his tongue out at Drogo before closing the door with his foot. The dog growled.
He gently stood Chrissy up in front of his bed, and they slowly undressed each other. “How okay do you feel, exactly?” Jack asked.
“Very okay. As long as you’re okay with my limited mobility and very unattractive bruises.” She pointed at her head.
“There’s nothing unattractive about you. But I’ll be careful and extra gentle.”
Once they were fully naked, he laid her on his bed and stared down at the woman he loved. “Your eyes are so blue right now.” He kissed one of her eyelids and then the other. Then he moved down to her neck. Her arms ran down his back softly as he moved lower. “You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.” He bent down, put his mouth on one nipple, and nipped. Her body arched into him, and the soft caressing strokes on his back became incessant clawing. When he was finished with one breast, he moved to the other, but continued twisting and pinching the nipple of the one he’d just fondled. When both nipples were red and pointy, he trailed kisses down her body. He put his hand between her legs and stroked gently. “I love how you’re always wet for me.” His words were as arousing as his tongue and hands. He parted her legs wider and began stroking. When she started writhing under him he made his way back up her body and gently drove his erection into her. She squirmed and moaned under him. “I want to make love to you. The last times have been amazing, but this time we are going to take it nice and slow.”
Chrissy felt her desire mount to unbearable levels. “I don’t think I can. I need you to—”
He hushed her. “Just close your eyes and go with it.” Then he kissed her forehead and then her lips.
Jack looked at her like no man had ever looked at her before. Her arms went around his neck and she held on. He moved in and out of her slowly, creating the most agonizingly exquisite tension. She felt her climax start to build, but he was going so slowly that it just continued building. She needed the release he wasn’t allowing her to get. He whispered loving words into her ear as he gyrated into her. In and out. Swirling his hips around. “Christ! I need more, Jack.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist. Their hips rocked together, and each pass along her clitoris elicited a moan, her nails digging deeper into his flesh. Jack reached behind him, released her fingers from his back, and kissed each finger one by one. With one of his hands he pulled both of her arms above her head and gently held them there. She was essentially immobilized. He shifted, completely flush against her body, and pressed his mouth against her lips again.
His tongue softly caressed the corners of her lips. Nothing more than a whisper against her mouth. All her female parts tingled. He moved to her neck, kissing, licking, and snaked his free hand around Chrissy’s waist, pulling her even closer to him, adjusting their angle. Her body arched in response. She squirmed beneath him and thrust into him in rhythm.
“Oh, baby. That feels so good,” said Jack, increasing the pace of his thrusts.
He was inside her, moving in and out of her, for what felt like days. The slow buildup increased the tension to unimaginable levels. She felt when his resolve to keep a slow pace snapped and he began pounding faster and harder into her. She matched him thrust for thrust in a perfect rhythm. Her eyes rolled back from pleasure.
“You’re about to come,” he murmured. “I can feel it. Your wet pussy is tightening around my dick.”
She secretly loved when he talked like that. Although, she thought, it wasn’t a secret—he knew it drove her crazy. His words drove her past the edge, and the climax she experienced was the most intense of her life, even more so than the previous ones Jack had provided. She cried out his name over and over as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. One last thrust and Jack followed her to oblivion.
Pure exhaustion from the ecstasy overtook their bodies. She was drunk from his kisses and lovemaking, and she cradled his head on her stomach as sleep consumed them.
Minutes, hours, days later … time had ceased to exist.
“Hey, Jack. Can I ask you a question?” She was drawing circles lazily on his chest.
“Anything,” he croaked.
“I was just thinking—if you hate the name Jack so much, why don’t you just have people call you John?”
He burrowed his head in her chest and groaned.
“What?” she asked, amused.
“My real name isn’t John. It’s Jack. Jack Daniels is my legal name.”
Chrissy let out a snort and then started giggling uncontrollably.
“Are you laughing at me?” His tone was serious, but she could see that he was trying to hide a little smirk.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you. Really, I don’t. But, what were your parents thinking?” She was still laughing.
“What can I say? My parents are a little eccentric. That’s their favorite drink. They thought it was a cool name. It’s a man’s drink. Real men drink whiskey. I’ll have you know Jack Daniels is a very manly name.”
“Oh, poor baby. That’s just—wrong.” She was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Stop laughing at me or I’ll give you something to laugh about. You k
now, people refer to Jack Daniel’s as ‘Gentleman Jack.’ If you’re going to start making fun of me, then you should start calling me Gentleman Jack.”
But she couldn’t stop. It was like the floodgates had opened. She laughed so hard she was gasping for air.
“You, sir, are no gentleman,” she said at last, poking his chest. He was so muscular, it was like poking iron.
Lust filled his eyes. “Oh, baby, you are so right about that. I am certainly no gentleman.” In one swift move, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. He held her hands together on his chest as he started tickling her ribs.
“Jack! Jack! Stop!” she gasped. “Can’t breathe!”
“Promise to stop teasing me?”
She nodded.
“Say it.”
She tried to speak, but he kept tickling her, and she couldn’t get any words out.
“God, I love your laugh.”
She finally stopped laughing when he leaned up and kissed her neck. “Stop.” Kiss. “Calling.” Kiss. Kiss. Lick. “Me.” Lick. Lick. Lick. “Jack.” Kiss. Lick. Suck. Kiss. “Daniels.”
She nodded, suddenly serious. And for the next hour Jack proceeded to show Chrissy all the ways he was no gentleman.
At last they lay in bed, completely spent. “I’m crazy in love with you, Christine Martin. There’s no one I’d rather fight with, and I can’t wait to do so for the rest of our lives.”
“And I can’t wait to perform stupidectomies on you for the rest of our lives. I love you, Jack.”
Epilogue
Two months later …
Jack came home after a hellish day at work. He was tired, grimy, and quite frankly bitchy. It was the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to wake Chrissy. But his keys clinked against the metal of the doorknob slightly, just enough to send Drogo into a yapping frenzy. Quickly he closed the door behind him, crouched down, and whisper-shouted at Drogo to shut up. When the dog saw it was just Jack, he growled one last time, showing his tiny sharp teeth, and lazily wandered back up to the bedroom. Quietly Jack unfastened his shirt, then threw it in the basket in the laundry room. He was just about to turn on the kitchen light when Chrissy walked in and crashed right into him.
Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) Page 22
