Jacked

by Tina Reber

  I WANTED TO argue, plead, tell her we were both wrong, but instead I cupped her face in my hand, pulling her into my chest with the other. Her unspoken argument disappeared on a gasp when I let my actions speak for themselves.

  I felt off balance. Hungry, confused, twisted up inside. This amazing woman was in my house and mine for the taking, and hell if I’d let another opportunity to let her know it slip by.

  She only fought a second, giving me a weak shove not really meant to push me off, before she surrendered and melted into me. I released her lips long enough to wet mine so I could kiss the shit out of her, holding her fast so she’d get my meaning.

  She made a few soft whimpers as I tested her willingness with the tip of my tongue. I deepened the kiss, demanding more, needing more, dying for more. I drew in her sighs, her tongue, the way her moans curled around my own. I wanted to drink her in, devour her mouth, spend hours getting to know every square inch of her body. I tangled my hand in her hair, branding her memories with my flavor.

  Erin’s hand brushed over the day-old stubble on my face, curling her fingertips into the edge of my jaw, doing her own form of branding on me. Holy hell, she had me deep, searing her name all over my bones, owning me inside and out.

  I felt like a teenager all over again, getting that all-encompassing rush of excitement from kissing the girl, feeling that strange pressure in my chest and limbs. Arousal also flooded into my cock, indenting it painfully into the zipper on my jeans.

  I’d kissed plenty of girls since… but none of them had me panting like this.

  Not even…

  I palmed Erin’s ass, squeezing out the memories of that other female as quickly as they came in to spill their poison on this moment. The wind gusted outside, sending a frosty haze of white crystals across my front window, but it didn’t matter, because inside I was burning up. Erin, however, quivered in my arms.

  Our lips rested as our breath blended into one. Her hair was all tangled around my fingers.

  “I wanted to do that since the first night I met you,” I whispered quickly, taking her mouth again. Getting to feel this much from just kissing someone was worth the risk of having myself gutted if it didn’t work out.

  Never before had I felt this passionately connected to someone. Never. This woman was stripping me of my self-protective shields one by one, wiggling her way past my defenses.

  “I thought you didn’t—” Erin managed to say before I cut her words off with my tongue, letting my overwhelming desire for her answer her questions.

  She whimpered again, wrapping her tiny hands up the back of my shirt.

  “Spend the day with me,” I said on her mouth, unwilling to separate us that far.

  Her hands did a slow slide up my back, grazing her nails lightly over my skin. “You really want me to?”

  I scraped my teeth over her top lip, sucking on it, thinking about kissing her like this for the next twelve hours, at least, while she scored my skin with her fingernails. “Most definitely.”

  She tore her mouth away and gasped, leaving me out of breath. Her chin dipped down. “I wish… I wish you would have knocked.”

  I pressed my lips to her forehead to keep our connection, guessing she still doubted my intentions. It was frustrating, but I tamped it down, knowing I had the power to change her perceptions. Girls were always worried about being used, and I suspected Erin was no different in that respect.

  I tilted her face up. “Make no mistake; this is me knocking now, okay?”

  I locked eyes with her and stared her down until she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.

  I sealed our small agreement with a soft kiss, sensing she wasn’t ready for much more.

  Her hand gently closed around mine, wrapping herself deeper.

  She tugged on my bandaged hand, raising it up to inspect it. That little crinkle formed between her brows, followed by her disapproving frown. “This should be changed.”

  I sighed with relief knowing I’d managed to crack into her tough outer shell. It may have been a small tear into her protective lining, but at least she wasn’t running out of my house anymore.

  “Just so we’re clear, all these dark spots are chocolate. I had a few cookies last night. They were fresh from the oven and still hot.”

  Her brow tipped up. So did one side of her luscious mouth. “Chocolate?”

  Just seeing part of her smile return was enough to make me high. “I’m serious. My partner’s wife made them. Stuff melted all over.”

  “Well, I need to rewrap it before you get any more food in your stitches.”

  Her teasing me was cute as shit, however separating her body from mine was the last thing on my mind. I warmed the edge of her jaw with my mouth. “I’d appreciate that.”

  She left out a breathy “okay” before both of her hands pushed slightly back on my arms. A moment of sanity slipped in on top of my thrumming heart, reminding me to slow the fuck down.

  Her brilliant blue eyes flashed down my body before a tinge of shock registered on her face. The smug bastard inside me smiled. That’s right, babe. Check it. I’m hard as a rock because of you.

  There was no way I could hide it, either, not that I wanted to. I gazed at her until she looked back up at me, amused that she was so intrigued.

  She tugged on her T-shirt and tried to smooth her hair. “I, um…”

  Seeing her flustered, her soft cheeks flushed, wearing one sock and a dazed look in her eyes made her even cuter. I took her hand and gave a tug. “Come on.” She followed me back up the steps without objection. By the fifth step I contemplated stripping her bare and messing the bed up even more, see if we could dislodge the sheets, let her feel exactly how much I was turned on by her.

  But her hand felt so fragile in mine and the weak hold she had on my fingers was enough to tell me she was probably still feeling the aftereffects of a night of binge drinking. I could completely relate to that shitty state of being all too well. The body aches, the sour stomach, the debilitating lethargy. Making love to her would have to wait.

  I towed her right into my bathroom and closed the lid on the john, giving her a place to sit.

  I don’t know why, but the first thing I noticed when I opened up my linen closet was that fucking box of tampons. I fought the urge to crush the box, squeeze it flat, and get them the hell out of my house. I shoved it to the side. Erin had to have put them back in there because I surely didn’t.

  I stifled my curse, knowing she restored things to how they were before she stumbled onto them, as if she didn’t want to upset me or my world.

  I pushed some towels over it, searching for my new roll of gauze, knocking over a bottle of hair spray that used to belong to Nikki in the process. It landed on my foot.

  Two new bottles of women’s body wash and some other girl products were also glaring at me. I wanted to swipe it all off the shelf, toss it all in the fucking garbage, and eradicate every trace of Nikki from my house. I should have done it sooner, but I resolved that I’d throw it all out later when Erin wasn’t sitting two feet away watching me get pissed off.

  “Here’s shampoo.” I pointed, purposely not looking at her, knowing that I’d probably see her disappointment all over again. I set the purple bottle in the shower and turned the water on. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll leave some clean clothes on my bed.”

  “Wait. What about your hand?”

  I glanced back, masking my attitude with a smile, and flashed the roll of gauze between my fingers. “I’ll deal with it.”

  I pulled the door closed behind me, getting out of there before I lost my shit. Nikki and I were done. I needed to get rid of her crap. Pronto.

  I had thought seeing Nikki’s stuff used by another woman would give me satisfaction, but in reality it turned my stomach, thinking of her lingering memories touching Erin’s skin.

  Erin was beautiful inside and out.

  She didn’t deserve to be soiled by my past.

  She deserved better.


  She deserves better from me.

  ERIN CAME INTO my kitchen with her hair still wet, wearing one of my black ATTF T-shirts and my Temple University sweatpants. My chest started to ache. The shirt was fairly new, but those sweats I’d had since my freshman year. The logo running down the length of her right leg was as well-worn as my memories. Knowing Erin was the first woman I’d ever allowed to wear them gave me a renewed sense of satisfaction.

  A ghost of a smile tilted her lips but her lingering sadness was visible, like a heavy weight crushing down on her shoulders, making me wonder if there wasn’t more to her depression than she was letting on. I knew without a doubt I had something to do with her mood, but the loss in her eyes was unmistakable.

  I’d lost plenty of people in my life. I’d been through my share of death—friends, relatives, my partner. It hurts, it sucks, it takes a while to get over, but whatever it was that she was carrying was more than that.

  I turned the burner off on the stove. This was as good of a time as any to defrost some homemade chicken soup. “You hungry?”

  She nodded and pulled out one of the island chairs. “It smells good.”

  I slid the sandwiches I’d made out of the pan and sliced them in half. “Hope you like grilled cheese.” It had always been my failsafe meal after a bout of heavy drinking.

  Erin was still trying to shield that crescent-shaped bruise under her eye. Her hand covered what wasn’t hidden by strands of wet hair.

  It was time to break her of her self-consciousness. I tossed my damp dishtowel over my shoulder, set her plate in front of her, and met her on the other side of the island.

  I tipped her face up. “Let me see it.”

  She tugged her chin away. “No, just don’t look at it. Please.”

  “It’s not as bad as you think.”

  She didn’t seem to agree. “It’s hideous, and huge.”

  I took her face in my hands. “Doc, look at me. Seriously, it’s a small bruise. It will disappear in a couple of days. I’ve got a two-inch gash in my hand that’s tied up with your stitches. We’re just having a row of bad luck.”

  Being this close to her, catching the all too familiar fragrance coming off her clean skin, it was as if she’d branded herself just for me, bathing her entire body in my scent. Curiosity and base male instinct had me sniffing her hair next.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  I couldn’t suppress my groan. “You smell like me.”

  She looked apologetic. “You told me to take a shower.”

  “I thought you’d use the girl stuff.”

  She shook her head; long wet strands swished back and forth, tickling the backs of my hands. “Decided against it.”

  I couldn’t hide my smile. “Yeah?”

  Her shoulder tipped up. “I didn’t want to smell like a reminder of someone else.” She sniffed her arm. “I’d rather smell like you.”

  Holy shit. I think I’m in love.

  That was it.

  Her five simple words tipped me right over the edge.

  If want could take human form, it just possessed me from head to toe and clouded my every thought. And now I wanted to possess this woman as much as she’d possessed me—inside and out. Gone was the guy who questioned how far I was willing to overlook her drinking binge while freezing his nuts off for two hours this morning shoveling heavy snow and ice.

  Those vibrant blue eyes gazed up at me, glistening with anticipation, rimmed with a hint of fear but open to trust, calling on every carnal instinct deep within me to own her heart.

  I wanted to dive in, take what I wanted so desperately, but I restrained myself, using her reactions to gauge if I had an open invitation. I had never forced myself on a woman before and I sure as hell wasn’t starting now.

  But her soft pink lips parted, her eyes darted from mine, down to my mouth, then back up to seeing right into my wretched soul. That was all the invitation I needed. Her stretching to meet my mouth halfway caused that winded feeling to blast my chest, taking away my ability to breathe.

  Excitement flashed through me like a million tiny shards of sheer energy, tensing my muscles, tingling down my spine, driving me to that point where everything and nothing merge and consumes you. The soft brush of her beckoning tongue pushed all of my doubts and lingering fears right out the fucking window. Nothing in my life had ever felt so right as her lips on mine—

  N o t O n e T h i n g.

  This woman, this luscious creature, had been haunting my every waking moment and much of my unconscious ones since the moment I met her and by some dumb luck or twist of fate here she was, in my hands like a precious jewel, letting me show her exactly how I’d been feeling but unwilling to admit.

  Her teeth scraped over my bottom lip, sucking and pulling and just as hungry, echoing that same sensation right into the depths of my jeans. If just kissing her was this mind-blowing then making love to her would surely be the death of me. I’d been bleeding inside for so long, missing something I couldn’t quite name. It was hard to hide just how desperate I was for her to heal me.

  Her fingertips pressed into my sides and curled, tugging and gripping my shirt in bunches. I tangled my fingers into her damp hair, hanging on for dear life, marking her memories so she’d never want to think of another man ever again.

  I’d been down for so long, I forgot how it felt to be happy. I’d been doing time, not living it. A prisoner of my own doing. Erin was a breath of freedom and a lifeline of sunshine and damn if she didn’t taste like perfection.

  …mixed with my mint toothpaste.

  Our kiss slowed, our lips rested, our breaths both came out in pants. It was the best and scariest feeling, like the exhilaration that comes from jumping out a plane and landing in a safety net piled with pillows and knowing you’d survived the wildest ride of your life.

  If I go in for another kiss, I’m not coming up for air.

  And fuck being afraid.

  Or hesitant.

  Or unsure.

  I held her jaw, hoping she could see all I wanted to say to her but wasn’t quite ready to say out loud.

  Not yet. That would have to wait, and be earned.

  But this kiss, it was enough to seal our fate. At least for me it was, because I could see so many unsaid words flashing in her wounded eyes, basically asking the same thing.

  Will you hurt me if I let you in?

  Can we go forward without being torn apart inside?

  I want to want you.

  And I’m scared, too.

  But I’m drunk on you and I need you to feel this high again because if this is how you make me soar from one kiss, imagine what else we can feel inside.

  And yes, you’ve turned this hard-hearted bastard into a poet.

  Most of the time, when I’m kissing a girl, I feel nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. More like physical horniness mixed with a bit of deviousness, plotting the quickest way to getting the woman naked and my balls emptied. That had been my only goal since ending things with Nikki. Make no ties with anyone who crossed my path, have no worries. Things were simpler that way. Manageable.

  But Erin was different. I don’t know how but I could just feel it inside. I felt different with her, as if she had this invisible hold on me, tethering me with renewed purpose.

  The hold Nikki once had had on me was nothing compared to this.

  The granite top of my kitchen island was looking to be the perfect height for me to crawl up inside this amazing woman, but I won’t. Erin isn’t the type I want to fuck and chuck to the curb. I knew that for sure now. All my senses were telling me that would be a waste of a good woman.

  A small “wow” slipped out of her wet mouth when I rested my forehead on hers. I had to agree.

  I knew I should back up, re-evaluate, slow the fuck down, but that seemed too far away from her and I just didn’t want that separation yet.

  The smile I felt burning on the inside came out on my face.

  Part of me considered whe
ther or not I should just toss her over my shoulder, carry her to my bed, and continue this until neither of us could walk or move. My mind had wrapped itself tightly around that single notion. My hard-on definitely loved that idea too, even giving me a standing ovation for being brilliant.

  But the weight of her sadness was still lying heavily around her despite having new things fluttering around her busy mind. She didn’t need to say it; I could feel it.

  I skimmed my nose over hers, wanting to stay locked together somehow. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

  Her fingers slipped up my back, sending another shiver through me. Erin’s shy approach was beyond sexy.

  “Is that so?” she whispered.

  I shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

  She smiled coyly. “You’re just saying?”

  “Just saying.” Playing with her was such a turn-on.

  Her fingernails scraped over my sides again from my small taunt when I faked backing away, unwilling to relinquish her hold on my shirt. Hell if that wasn’t a turn-on, too.

  I went in for another kiss. Carrying her off to my bed and fucking her stupid crossed my mind again, this time with clearer, more vivid pictures.

  Pictures I’d hoped to paste around the entire inside of my skull and keep the leftovers in my wallet.

  Erin’s lips let go first.

  Another time, perhaps. I tried to back up, get out of her space. It was after I kissed her forehead that it struck me how natural that felt. “Eat your sandwich.”

  I set two bowls of soup down and sat next to her, dipping half of my sandwich right into my hot broth, trying to get my hard-on to subside. No sense putting on false pretenses. I was glad to see she was able to eat, even though she was taking small bites. There was nothing worse than rot gut from a hangover. Been there, done that.

  “Your stomach feeling better?”

  She nodded, puckering her lips to blow on another spoonful. An urge to snag the spoon away from her and kiss her again came on like a sudden hurricane.

  “This is delicious. You make it?”

  I finished the last of my grilled cheese. “Nope. This is mom soup.”