Inked Memories (Montgomery Ink Book 8)

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “You’re barely thirty, Jillian.” His tone was dry, but there was still an understanding in his gaze.

  She rolled her eyes. “True, but I can’t say I’m in my twenties anymore. Not that I particularly liked that era. I’m not that far into my thirties, like you said, but I already like them more. I know who I am, what I want, and I’m working on getting there. I don’t feel like I need to be apologetic anymore for loving my job and being damn good at it.”

  “Hell no. You’re the best damn plumber we’ve ever had.”

  She tipped her imaginary hat. “Why thank you, sir.” They both laughed, and she wiped her hands on her jeans, calmer than she had been before. “I don’t think any of us truly found the path we needed until it was right in front of us, you know? We might have tried to pave other roads, or at least the ones that we thought were good for us, but I think, at least the two of us, found one that worked for us rather than what might have worked for others.

  “I thought I’d marry Sophia,” Wes said after a moment. She froze fractionally before she made herself relax. While she might not like hearing about his ex, he saw hers every day and seemed to be fine with it. She could deal with a little conversation. “When I bought the house, she and I were seeing each other and getting serious. Yes, I bought the place for myself but also with room for family. I didn’t make any of the major remodeling decisions until she and I were no longer seeing each other. I waited, I guess, for input from the woman who was going to be my wife, and in the end, that didn’t happen.”

  “She hurt you.” There was no hiding the truth of that in his tone, but there was a sense of finality about it, as well.

  “Yeah, and pissed me off. She left me for a man with deeper pockets to help along her gambling habits and any other addictions she picked up along the way. I enabled her at first because I thought that was what I was supposed to do. I thought I was helping everything by fixing it all, only in the end, I made it worse. It took me a while to realize that.”

  “You’re a fixer,” she said, understanding. “You’ve always been that way. Storm told me some,” she explained when he gave her a look. “How even when you were younger, you tried to figure out how to make things better for your siblings so your parents wouldn’t have to worry.”

  Wes gave her a grin. “Maya really wanted her lemonade and sticker stand to work out, and boys kept coming up and trying to steal her favorite stickers. So when she punched the neighbor boy in the mouth for stealing, I tried to take the fall for it, but Maya would have none of it. She told our parents straight out what she’d done and that she’d do it again. And when that boy’s mom came to yell at our parents for raising a heathen girl, they stood up for all of us. Yeah, Maya got grounded for using her fists, but they didn’t yell at her for defending her territory.”

  He smiled at the memory, and she couldn’t help but imagine little Maya with pigtails, scowling at anyone who would dare steal from her. Then, of course, she pictured a slightly older teenage Wes, glaring down at anyone who thought to hurt his baby sister. It was a cute image, and she bet he’d do it again even now that they were all far older.

  “I don’t miss Sophia, by the way,” Wes added after a moment, surprising her.

  “What?”

  He turned so they were facing each other, their hands still clasped together. “I don’t miss her. I did at one point, but seeing her again so recently? It just reminds me how much work it was to be with her. And loving someone shouldn’t be work, not really. A relationship is work, that much I know. It should have both people working on it to make sure that the other person knows they’re all in. But the actual love? That shouldn’t be work. And for Sophia, it was work.” He winced and leaned down to kiss Jillian’s temple. “And I probably shouldn’t be talking about her, huh? Kills the mood.”

  She shook her head. “You should talk about whatever is on your mind. I’m not hurt that you’re talking about her. It gives me more insight into who you are.” She shrugged. “If we ignore the tough topics, then what we have is only superficial.”

  He tilted his head and studied her. “And what do we have, Jillian?”

  She swallowed hard, annoyed with herself for broaching this topic though she knew she’d needed to. “I don’t know what to call it.”

  He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Sounds about like what I’m thinking, too. Are we too old for boyfriends and girlfriends? Maybe, but calling you anything other than my girlfriend sounds weird.” He leaned forward and cupped her face with his free and. “I like you, Jillian. I like being with you. I like the way you make me feel. I like the fact that we’re learning each other even when us being together at all was unexpected. I don’t know what’s coming next for us, but I do know that I want to find out. Together.”

  She licked her lips and leaned forward to kiss his lips softly. “I want to find out, too. I didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect you. I mean, I don’t think we had a real conversation without snark or yelling until we were making out.”

  Wes’s eyes filled with laughter. “True, though I’m glad we still snark and possibly yell. Keeps things interesting.”

  Her phone buzzed with a weather alert, and she sighed. “Looks like rain is on its way. We should head back.”

  “Want to come to my place? I’ll cook.”

  “Words any girl likes to hear,” she said with a laugh as they made their way down the path. The two of them had been very careful not to use the L-word when they were talking about their feelings, and she wasn’t really sure if that’s what she felt for him. She liked Wes. She wanted to be with him. But love? Well, love hurt. A lot. It was such a risk—especially for her in this situation. Because if she truly loved Wes and it became too much work like he’d said had happened with Sophia, then she’d be left with no one.

  She’d lose her friends, she’d lose the foundation she’d tried to make for herself.

  She’d lose Wes.

  So taking it slowly like they were, would have to be enough. Because loving Wes right now would be a mistake.

  And if she kept telling herself that, she might one day believe it.

  “Did they ever find out who tried to break into the warehouse,” Jillian asked as they hiked back, trying to keep her mind off of her and Wes’s future.

  “No, and it’s pissing me off. We’ve had what? Five failed attempts? I can see blaming kids for maybe one or two of those times, but all of them? I just don’t know. We’ve been set back twice now because of broken glass and knocked over supplies, and I’m really fucking annoyed. Not to mention the elevator breaking down again after we fixed it. And the random leaks going on in the building that have nothing to do with your work,” he added quickly when she growled. “All of that added up together sounds like either someone is out to sabotage this project, or we’re cursed.”

  “Don’t forget you getting hurt,” she said, her voice cracking when she remembered the look of him in that hospital bed. “You got jumped right after we started this project, and that guy kept asking where it was. What is it”?

  Wes frowned. “You don’t think the two are connected, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really, but you never know.” She froze as she remembered something she’d forgotten to tell Wes.

  “What is it?” he asked, stopping to face her. He looked her over and frowned. “Are you hurt? Is it your ankle? I’ll carry you back.”

  She held up her hand as he bent to pick her up. “I’m not hurt, Mr. Fixer. I just had a thought. I’m really okay.”

  He kissed her quickly. “Maybe I just wanted to get my hands on you.”

  “Cheeky. And maybe when we get back to your place…”

  “That’s a promise.” He spanked her, and she shivered. Damn man. “What was your thought?”

  “After I got home one night, I briefly thought someone had gone through my things. I can’t explain it, but it was as if someone had been in my house and I just knew. I mean, I chalked it up to me being tired and paranoid at
the time, but now, I’m not so sure.”

  “Fuck, Jilli. Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Or call the cops?”

  She held out her hands again, annoyed at herself and him in the moment. “I don’t remember why I didn’t mention it at the time, probably because I was exhausted, but it honestly slipped my mind because it didn’t seem like a big deal. And nothing was out of place, so it’s not like I could call the cops and say ‘hey, I feel weird, can you use your manpower for the little woman in need?’”

  Wes let out a growl and cursed under his breath. “If you thought someone was in your house looking for something and not finding it, it could be connected to everything else going on.”

  “Or we’ve been watching too many crime shows where everything is connected. It was just a feeling. I shouldn’t have brought it up. The only reason I did was because I forgot about it in the first place. I’m sure nothing is connected. It wouldn’t make sense if it were.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she tugged on his hand. The first crack of thunder splintered the air, and she tugged harder. “Come on, we’re so close to the truck, and I don’t want to get drenched.” He reluctantly ran beside her as they made their way to the vehicle. The first drops of rain splashed the windshield as soon as they got inside and started the engine.

  She knew he was stewing over what she’d told him, and she was doing the same, but really, what were the odds that it was all connected? Slim, she reminded herself.

  Plus, it wasn’t like she had anything anyone would want.

  Right?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We’re going to be late,” Wes said as he leaned against the door in his bedroom, and Jillian knelt in front of him, her hand slowly sliding up and down his cock. It was such a pretty picture that he knew he’d always be able to imagine her on her knees, holding him by the balls—literally—and having all the control.

  It was damn sexy.

  “I think we have time for me to finish what I’m doing before we go.” She winked before using her tongue to play with the slit at the top of his cock.

  He groaned and fisted his hand in her hair. “Okay, okay. I guess if you want to suck me off, we’ll find the time.”

  She squeezed him, and he let out a laughing wheeze. “That’s what I thought, Wesley.” Then she hummed along his shaft as she sucked him down, bobbing her head and making his eyes cross.

  Her tongue slid along his length as she worked him over, bringing him closer and closer to the edge but pulling back when he was almost there. She knew his body, knew the signs for when he was about to come and was empowered because of it.

  And he fucking loved it.

  Because when he took her later, he’d do the same to her, knowing her body in and out and bringing them both pleasure because they found it together, driving them both past the brink of obsession and pleasure.

  His jeans were still on his hips, just riding low with his fly open as she hollowed her cheeks. He groaned, coming down her throat in the next instant. He’d tugged on her hair to warn her, but she’d just hummed along, swallowing every drop of him. And when she let go of his dick with a pop, he grunted and tugged her up by the hair, aggressive yet gentle because he knew that was how she liked it. He crushed his mouth to hers, tasting himself on her tongue. It made him hard again, and as she squirmed in his hold, clearly turned on by giving him a blowjob, he tightened his grip on her hip and hair, exploring her mouth to get his fill.

  “Wes,” she gasped, breaking away from him as they both fought to catch their breaths.

  “You’re so fucking hot.” He bit her lip, and she moaned.

  She winked when she pulled back, wiping the drop of come they’d both missed from the side of her mouth. Seeing the wicked glint in her eye, he decided to take control—just for now.

  He turned them both and twisted her around until her back was to his front. Then he pressed her hard into the door, loving the way her pulse raced beneath his hand as he held onto her wrist. When she pressed her cheek to the door and wiggled her ass against his raging hard-on, he slapped her butt hard.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice low. “You don’t have the upper hand here, Jilli. I’m going to fuck this pussy—my pussy—but before I do, I’m going to see how wet you are. Are you a dirty, girl, Jillian? Are you wet because you had my dick in your mouth, choking you as I came?”

  She licked her lips, obviously turned on at his words. But because they were going a little farther than they had before, he leaned forward and nipped at her ear.

  “You tell me to stop, I stop,” he whispered. “I go too far, you tell me, and we stop this right now. I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m going to make you beg for it.” They never ventured into anything too kinky where a safe-word would be needed, since that’s not what they preferred in their relationship, but he always wanted to make sure the two of them were on the same page just in case.

  She smiled at him, her eyes warming. “I like it, Wes. Don’t worry about me, just make me feel good.”

  He leaned down and took her lips. “That I can do. Now, let me check this pussy. Are you wet? Or are you just lying to me when you say you’re turned on.”

  Wes undid the button on her jeans and slid his hand down the front of her pants. It was a tight fit, but he had his palm over her mound and his fingers stuffed inside her in no time. Her cunt clenched around his fingers, and he grinned.

  “So. Fucking. Wet.” He pumped in and out of her a couple of times, letting her grow accustomed to his hand, then sped up. The wet sounds of him fingering her filled the room, and it made him even hornier. Holy hell, his woman was too hot for words, and he loved the way they went at it during sex.

  “I’m close,” she panted.

  He leaned forward and bit her shoulder over her shirt. She let her head fall back as she came, her pussy like a vice around his fingers as she tightened around him. He slowly removed his hand as she came down off her high and then made sure she was watching as he licked her juices off his hand.

  “Holy hell, that’s hot,” she said with a laugh. “I never thought that was sexy when I watched porn, but you doing it? Just…get inside me already, will you? Because I think I need that big dick of yours right now.”

  He laughed, loving that they laughed and joked together during sex. She helped him with her pants and then shoved his pants down to his knees, but he kept her in the same position so he could take her from behind.

  “Hands on the door,” he ordered, and when she complied, he entered her. She was so wet and slick, he knew neither one of them would last long, but he didn’t mind. Their foreplay was always so long and hot that they usually could go at it three or four times a night if they played it right.

  The door rocked on its hinges as he fucked her hard, her hips moving with him and pressing into his groin so she went deeper and deeper. Too soon, they were both coming and panting each other’s names. Sweat covered their bodies, and he knew they were both sticky and messy.

  Seriously the best sex. Ever.

  “We’re officially going to be late to dinner,” Jillian said on a laugh, her face still pressed against the door.

  He rolled his eyes and smacked her bare bottom that now held a nice pink spot, so he rubbed it softly so it wouldn’t ache.

  “I told you that before you started sucking me.”

  “Well, you didn’t put up much of a fight, did you?”

  “You had my dick in your mouth, I couldn’t really come up with an argument. Now let’s clean up and head out. A little late is okay.” Something he’d never said before in his life.

  Needless to say, their shower together took longer than planned, and a little late turned into a whole lot late but the hostess with the knowing glint in her eye had seated them at their table anyway.

  “I saw the way she looked at you,” Jillian whispered over her menu. “She knew what we were doing.”

  He smiled and studied the drink specials and what was on ta
p. “Well, since you’re wearing two different shoes and your dress isn’t fully zipped, I’m not surprised.”

  She gasped and checked herself before kicking him under the table with her very pointy shoe—the same shoe that had a matching one on her other foot.

  “Liar,” she whispered fiercely.

  “But you laughed.” He winked, and she laughed and flipped him off from behind her menu.

  “I can’t believe how nice this week was compared to the last,” Jillian said once they had finished their dinner and were now onto their chocolate tortes. Wes ate his slowly, his attention on the way she licked her whipped cream from her fork rather than what the dessert tasted like.

  He was seriously a goner.

  “You’re right,” he said after he took another bite. He needed to keep his mind on their conversation and not on what he planned to do later. “We actually got work done and are heading toward our target. It was a good week.”

  There had been no mishaps, no break-ins, and no leads on who had jumped Wes in that alley. His ribs ached just thinking about it, but he’d had no long-term effects from the incident. They’d even called the detective in charge about Jillian’s place but had pretty much been blown off. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t make sense that everything was connected, but they’d wanted to make sure there was a record of it nonetheless.

  “Here’s to next week,” Jillian said, tapping her fork to his.

  “Speaking of next week, Mom called and told me we’re doing the family dinner at her place on Saturday. We alternate months with Austin since his house is big enough to fit all of us.”

  “Your house is, too,” she added.

  “True, but we’re only just now adding Austin into the rotation. Give it time to trickle down,” he said on a laugh. “Anyway, do you want to come? It’s an invite from me, by the way. I want to bring you as my date, rather than my mother inviting you like last time.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I’d love to, and you know your mom is probably going to call tomorrow and invite me anyway. She’s so sweet like that.”