Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

by Dannika Dark

  “Don’t be a hard-ass. I want to do this together.”

  He thrust deeper, and I moaned. “I want to pleasure you, baby. Just let it go.”

  Frustrated by his stubbornness, I cupped his cheeks and leaned up, giving him my tongue, and our kiss went deep. So deep it felt just as intimate as the sex. When it broke, my mouth slid to his ear and I spoke words that broke his willpower as his hips crashed into mine.

  “Sweetheart. Oh God, please come with me…” My words broke off into a series of moans, and I gripped the roots of his hair.

  “Say that again.”

  “Come with me,” I said in shallow pants.

  He hooked his arm beneath my leg and pulled it up, driving harder as I held onto his shoulders.

  “Not that,” he said.

  What had I said? What was it he wanted me to repeat? My brain scrambled. “Sweetheart.”

  His body stiffened and felt like granite beneath my fingertips. Jericho shouted and dropped his head, a shower of long hair curtaining my face as I cried out, still rocking beneath him. He picked up the frantic pace again, and we found our release… together.

  One word we were always meant to be.

  ***

  Jericho and I held each other for what seemed like an eternity. We nestled our bodies close, our damp skin sticking together. I traced my finger over his left bicep and circled over his tattoo. Jericho tenderly drew my hand to his mouth and kissed the marks on my wrist. I smiled against his chest.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, absently brushing his hand through my hair.

  “The song playing outside. Reminds me of the night we went to that DJ’s house and you sat on a soda can that some rock legend had autographed… I forget who.”

  “That wasn’t my fault. If you’re going to get an autograph from a legend, you don’t put it on a can of root beer.”

  “Maybe it’s all he had with him.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I sat on it. If I am in the presence of a rock legend, holding a can of root beer and a permanent marker, then feel free to tie my testicles to the bumper of a big wheeler and hit the gas.”

  I kissed his chest. “You are the rock legend.”

  He sighed. “Maybe that’s not a title I want anymore.”

  I turned over and rested my arms on his chest, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Lexi’s going to open a pastry shop pretty soon. Austin wanted me to play there once in a while with my acoustic. I dig that scene. Reminds me of some of the places we used to hang out in when coffee was cheap.”

  “Yeah,” I said wistfully. “But you’re so good at what you do. Plus, there’s no money in that. Not to mention the customers would line up outside the door and go crazy to see you.”

  He laughed quietly. “Maybe that’s what Austin’s thinking. It would draw in a crowd, and after a while, I wouldn’t be such a big deal like I am onstage. I can do low-key.”

  “Is that what I am? Low-key?”

  His eyes dragged down, and he shifted so that we were facing each other. “My favorite keys on the piano are the lower keys. They have the most depth and soul. Same with the guitar; the high strings are sweet, but the low ones will break your heart. Maybe it’s time I tone things down. But fair warning—I still like to party and have a good time.”

  “Me too.”

  “I like to hang out at the bar and get rowdy.”

  “So do I.”

  He licked his lips. “Sometimes I have a little weed. Not often, but I usually have a few hits when I’m partying with a crowd.”

  “Does it still feel good?”

  “Not so much.”

  I circled my finger on his clavicle. “Then maybe it’s not a big deal if you just stop. I don’t want to see you go back to that life again.”

  “Done deal.”

  “No, I don’t want you to hold that against me.”

  “Same old Isabelle,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I can drop the weed without blinking, but I can’t quit smoking.”

  “I don’t care, sweetheart. I’m not trying to change you. But when I ask you to put a mint in your mouth, you’re going to obey.”

  He rocked with laughter and grabbed my thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “What if you took a job helping Lexi out in the new shop when they open it? She’s going to need experienced staff because she’ll be too busy working the register and making pastries. Austin talked about hiring a couple of girls.”

  “She should have table service. Why be like everyone else? People like to be seated and waited on. Sometimes they don’t feel so important in their daily life, and having someone take care of them is a big deal.”

  “You always had a sweet heart,” he murmured, kissing my forehead again.

  “I can always spot the lonely ones. I spend more time talking to them so they feel like someone cares. It’s not just about slinging beer.”

  “I know that, baby. You think I don’t respect what you do? That’s why I asked about the pastry shop. Nobody keeps a cool head in chaos better than you. It’s not about all that hip-shaking you do in the bar for tips, but damn, Isabelle. You shine, and it’s infectious. That’s the effect you had on me when we first met. You made me feel like somebody.”

  “You are somebody. You always were; you just didn’t see it.”

  He smoothed his hand down my arm. “That’s what I mean. You have a gift. I’ve seen you work your magic, and it blows me away. You pick out the meanest bastard in the room and make him feel like he just might have a heart.”

  My lip quivered, and I turned away. “It’s not true, Jericho,” I sobbed. “You can’t say that to me.”

  All the emotion I’d kept bottled about Hawk began to seep out.

  “Hey, now. What’s going on? Shhh… Baby, talk to me,” he said, whispering against my shoulder.

  With my back to him, I sniffled and tried to keep my voice level. “How could I have been with such a monster? What does that say about me? I can’t bring out the best in anyone, Jericho. Maybe I bring out the worst.”

  He propped up on his arm and his voice darkened. “Why the hell would you say that?”

  And then it came out. “Because look what I did to you!”

  He turned me onto my back. “You think you’re the one responsible for me shooting up? Do you?” He sighed hard and tenderly brushed my hair away from my face. “I never had a purpose in life like my brothers did. Reno was the bounty hunter, the twins were good with numbers, and then I came along. I carried that with me my whole damn life. When the fame hit, I wasn’t ready for it. The drugs were recreational at first, but eventually I needed them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I felt like a dirtbag. I wanted to be numb. What good was I as a Shifter? I toured with humans, lived in the human world, and for what? To have women thrown in my face and drugs shoved up my nose. That downward spiral that you seem to think is your fault was me trying to forget what a loser I felt like. You were the best thing I had, Isabelle. You’re the best thing I’ll ever have.”

  Jericho wiped the tears off my cheeks and lashes.

  “Don’t ever talk that way again. It’s not you,” he said in a softened voice. “Hawk was a deceptive sonofabitch who got what he had coming. You’re trusting, and you gravitate toward people who need help. Maybe he looked like he had all his shit together, but you must have sensed he needed someone. You look for the best in people. That’s not a fault, Isabelle. It’s not a weakness. It’s what makes you the best damn woman I know. So go ahead and let it out.”

  “I don’t want to cry anymore,” I said decidedly, pulling the sheet to cover my waist as I sat up.

  He smirked. “Your hair looks like a Pomeranian caught in a tornado.”

  I smiled sweetly at him. “But you still love me.”

  “Yeah, baby, I still love you,” he said, kissing my lips.

  “Even though I don’t have a tattoo?” I said jokingly.

  He snorted. “Seriously, Isab
elle?”

  When he pulled his head back to look at me, I shrugged. “It’s no secret what kind of women you date. Blondes who are well-endowed and inked.”

  He threaded his fingers through my hair. “First of all, you’re the only redhead I’ve ever knowingly been with for a reason. And on a side note, I think your tits are spectacular. Candy-red nipples,” he whispered against my ear, “and more than a mouthful.” His fingers grazed along the feminine curve of my chest. “As for the tattoos, I don’t want you getting one because you think it’s a requirement on my checklist. Some ink is invisible, and I know all the stories that mark you.”

  “Not all,” I said.

  “Yeah, we got some catching up to do. Look, I’m sorry, Isabelle.”

  “For what?”

  “For being such a dick and leaving you on the street that morning wearing a paper bag.”

  “You were just being your usual cocky self.”

  He was quiet for a couple of beats and working something out in his head. “I want you to stay here; I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  “Where are you going? Do you have to go onstage again?”

  “I need to run a quick errand. There’s a toilet in here, but the shower is questionable. You might have to take a bath in the sink.”

  “Super. Be sure to pick me up a rubber ducky before you come back,” I said through our kisses.

  “Maybe I’ll just lick you clean, Sexybelle.”

  “Mmm, sounds good,” I said, tasting his bottom lip.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” He glanced down at my palm where I held one of his chunky rings, the one that depicted a vicious wolf’s head.

  “I want a piece of you with me while you’re gone,” I said, sliding it on my fattest finger. “Plus, I like this ring.”

  Jericho blew a burst of air against my neck, making a terrible sound. I lifted my shoulder and squirmed away from the ticklish effect. It was so easy to fall back into our friendship—the way we were before it all fell apart. After a minute, he hopped off the bed and pulled up his jeans. “Be back in two shakes of a stripper’s ass. You have a change of clothes by the bed, and there’s some junk in the bathroom to brush your teeth with.”

  “Super. I love brushing my teeth with junk.”

  “Stay sexilicious, and don’t go anywhere. I’ll keep my phone in my pocket if you need to call.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking around. “My phone is by the lawn chairs. When I fell, it dropped in the grass.”

  “I’ll grab it on my way back.” He headed down the hall and turned on a low lamp. “I’m going to lock the door behind me. Don’t let anyone in unless they’re holding a six-pack.”

  “What if they’re wearing one?”

  “Then you’ll know it’s me and you can open the door.”

  Chapter 18

  Damn if Jericho didn’t walk out of that trailer whistling.

  Whistling!

  After grabbing a plain black tee, he drove away from the campsite. As much as he wanted to stay behind and hold Isabelle, Jericho couldn’t put off this deal any longer. Since he didn’t have the right connections, he called Wheeler as soon as he sped onto the main road.

  Wheeler had a contact, so with reluctance, he arranged for Jericho to meet with him. When Jericho pulled up to a large glass building, he parked the truck halfway on the sidewalk and got out.

  A gentleman puffing on a cigar dropped his stogie to the ground and smashed it out with his brown cowboy boot. He was a robust man with a silver beard and blue dress shirt. “My name’s Tony,” the man said with a brisk nod. “Wheeler’s a friend of mine from way back. He tells me I need to fix you up.”

  Jericho slammed the truck door and wiped his nose. “I don’t have much time. Show me what you got.”

  “Come inside and we’ll make a deal.” Tony jangled his keys and unlocked the door. Jericho moved to the center of the room, hands shaking, feeling jittery.

  Tony’s gait was slow as he went to the left side of the dark room. “Looks like you got it bad. Come over here and I’ll set you up.”

  Jericho moved toward the counter and watched anxiously as Tony flipped on a few lights.

  “What’s your poison?”

  Jericho cleared his throat. “Engagement rings.”

  Rings weren’t really the Shifter way because jewelry sometimes got lost during the shift unless you were careful to take it off first or remembered where you’d left it. But Jericho couldn’t help himself—he wanted Isabelle to have the whole damn fairy tale.

  Tony chuckled. “You had that look in your eye; I figured as much. Do you have something in mind? Platinum, white gold, marquise, princess cut?”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned over the counter and eyed all the glittering jewels.

  “Well, tell me about your woman. Is she one of those shy girls?”

  Jericho snorted. “Hell no. She’s confident, beautiful, and strong. But she has a kind heart. I don’t deserve someone like her.”

  “May I recommend a solitaire? One stone for one girl—the only one. Speaks volumes. If you told me the first three, I’d say go for flashy, but if she’s good-hearted, then she’s the kind of woman who doesn’t give a shit what her friends think.”

  “Yeah, that’s Isabelle.”

  Tony led him to a display of rings and pulled them out. After a confusing glance around, one ring caught his eye.

  “A beauty, isn’t she?” Tony smiled and pulled the ring from the case, holding it between his fat fingers. “This one is special. She’s a one-carat diamond that sparkles like no other because she has over one hundred and thirty facets. It’s like wearing a star on your finger. Fourteen-karat white gold. Hold her in your hand.”

  Jericho slid the ring halfway up his finger and grinned. “This is it. She’s the one.”

  “If you said that to your woman, then I do believe it is.”

  “How much?”

  “Free.”

  Jericho flicked his eyes up. “Bullshit.”

  Tony shrugged and took the ring away, carefully pushing it in a black box. “Wheeler’s picking up the tab. You guys can sort it all out.”

  Jericho leaned heavily on his arms. “Look, I’m not having my brother pay for my woman’s engagement ring.”

  “And do you have five large on you?”

  “Shit.”

  Tony sighed and strolled over to the left, sliding open a display. He slapped a white box on the counter. “Or, you can probably dig out what you have in your pocket for this cheap piece of shit. Each time she squints and tries to see the stone, she’ll remember it’s your love that’s important and not the ring.”

  He wanted to reach across the counter and strangle Tony. What money Jericho didn’t spend on partying, he gave over to Austin to help with bills. It would only take a few weeks for him to pay back Wheeler. The bastard. “I’ll take this one,” he said, tapping the black box in front of him.

  “Excellent choice. You can bring her in later if we need to have it resized.”

  While Tony locked up the counter, Jericho made a quick call. “Wheeler, I’m going to kill you.”

  “You wanted the best, right?”

  Jericho spun around and whispered harshly into the phone. “How do you think I feel, knowing my brother—”

  “Save it,” he replied. “You’re paying me back; this is just an advance because of the short notice. I wouldn’t buy your woman’s ring—that’s too fucking weird. Did you tell Austin?”

  “Hell no. I think I should tell Isabelle first, don’t you?”

  Wheeler grumbled on the other end. “If you say so. Just remember, the Packmaster has the final say in who stays in the pack. It’s common courtesy to tell him your intentions. After what went down with Hawk, he might not let her in.”

  “I doubt it. Keep your mouth shut until I ask her. Shit,” he whispered. “I’m fucking nervous.”

  Wheeler chuckled darkly. “Where is she?”

  “In the trailer I rented.”
/>   “That’s sweet. So you left your girl to go shopping.”

  Jesus, Wheeler could be a pain in the ass. Jericho paced around the middle of the room and heard music coming through the phone, but it didn’t sound like a live band. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I split. Not my scene. I’m at a strip club, and don’t go blabbing to Austin. He thinks I went to grab another beer. Do me a favor and keep him in the dark.” Wheeler hung up.

  Tony flipped off the light and handed Jericho a bag. “Here you go. Good luck, son.”

  That put one nervous butterfly in his stomach that was more like a winged demon breathing fire. All of a sudden, his impulsive idea was giving him cold feet. What if she said no? What if this was too soon? What if she wanted a different ring? What if she didn’t want a ring? Well hell, he’d buy her whatever she wanted. Emeralds, rubies, donuts… any damn thing.

  The thing is, her saying yes wasn’t just about accepting Jericho, but it also meant joining the Weston pack. She’d never known stability. She’d never known a family who loved her unconditionally.

  Isabelle had clung to him all those years ago because he had given her those things. If she wouldn’t live with his pack, then Jericho would be faced with a choice: love or family.

  That wasn’t a choice he wanted to make.

  ***

  After Jericho left, I got dressed and snooped through the drawers in the trailer. Most were empty, but I found some food in the kitchen and made a peanut-butter sandwich. A blues band played outside, and I wondered if the music would go on night and day.

  The trailer was beginning to get stuffy, and I had no idea how to turn on the air—if it even had air. What I really wanted to do was grab a lawn chair and sit by the door with a cold beer in my hand. Jericho had locked me in with the best of intentions, but this was a festival. I had never once been to a festival and spent it locked inside a vehicle! Then again, I’d never been to an all-Breed festival, so he was probably right.

  Someone rapped their knuckles on the front door, and I froze mid-bite. The second series of knocks sounded more urgent.

  “Izzy? It’s April. Can I use your toilet?”

  I laughed softly and put my sandwich down. “One second.”