by Nina Bruhns
Dameon shook his head. Thinking back on the night, Dameon marveled that he hadn’t flattened that pompous asshole, Garrett Chambers. The guy truly was unstable. Dangerous. Not physically, but in a conniving, underhanded way it was clear that he was out to hurt Jesse anyway that he could.
He turned at the sound and saw Jesse in the doorway. She’d changed into a shimmery tank top and lounge pants. From across the room her fragrance all but brought him to his knees. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a careless twist. Damp strands hung around her face and neck. Gazing at her from across the room, Dameon choked back the surge of lust that hit him. He refused to second guess himself for coming here when he knew how vulnerable she was. But seeing her damp fragrant body dappled by moonlight sent his dick into high alert. He silently cautioned his randy member: Act up and there’ll be hell to pay.
She saw him studying her and flushed. “I hope you don’t mind. I took a quick shower. I… had to wash off the smell of that place. The conference room. I needed to scrub it off of me.”
Dameon nodded. “Good idea. It’s been a challenging night, Jesse. You’re holding up well. I’m impressed.”
She moved several steps closer. Her expression was strained. “Dameon, I don’t know how to thank you for what you did tonight. I’m not sure either Trey or I could have made it without you.”
“Interestingly you thanked me in the best way possible when you called me and asked me to help you.”
A frown clouded her lovely face. “I surprised myself. I’m not good at asking for help. Not good at all.”
Wanting to erase some of the tension on her face, he aimed for casual.
“I was going to help myself to a beer, but I didn’t want to take liberties--”
“Would you like a beer or do you want something stronger?”
“What do you have?”
“How about some Wild Turkey Tradition?”
Dameon raised an eyebrow and gave an impressed whistle.
He followed her into the kitchen. She took a bottle of the high end whisky from the cabinet and handed it to him. She reached for two glasses.
“Straight up, Chief, or are you a wuss and need water?”
He laughed. “Straight up is the only way to drink something this fine.” Seeing the rows of bottles, he asked, “What did you do? Rob a liquor store?”
Jesse smiled and quirked a questioning brow. “Would you like to go out on the back patio? I have a gas fireplace. It takes the chill off the evening. It’s my favorite place to sit at night. I love looking at the mountains in the distance.”
Dameon took the glasses and the bottle from her.
“Lead the way, Major. And if you wish, I’d be pleased to light the fire.”
Both of them caught the double entendre. When she blushed and laughed nervously, Dameon gave her a reassuring smile.
“That was purely unintentional, scouts honor.”
After he lit the fireplace and they’d sat at either end of the rattan sofa, he took a hearty swallow of the aromatic amber liquid.
Examining the ornate bottle, he said, “This is excellent. I’ve never drank this particular poison.”
Jesse took a sip. “I didn’t rob a store. It’s a gift from my father. He insists that no self- respecting Major should drink cheap booze. He sent me a case of this when I got my last commendation. It must have set him back several thousand dollars. I’ve been drinking it ever since. I’m spoiled.”
Dameon whistled in appreciation and toasted her father in absentia. “To your father. A man after my own heart. Don’t ever settle for second best.”
They sat quietly for several minutes enjoying the excellent whisky and the starlit night. A crescent moon sliver played hide and seek with the whispery clouds, adding to the quiet beauty of the dark night. The only sounds were the birds chirping and the rustle of small animals in the brush. The occasional howl of a distant wolf reminded him they were in the high desert.
Although he hated to break the spell, Dameon needed to broach the crisis of the evening.
“Jesse, I want to talk to you about what happened with Trey. Tonight’s episode is serious. The kids Trey was with have been in and out of juvie for five years. They are druggies; both users and dealers. They’ve already been arrested twice for B and E. All three of them are on a fast track to prison.”
Jesse gasped and her huge green eyes widened further.
Dameon continued. “If that guy had been killed tonight and Trey was there? Hell, I don’t have to tell you the consequences. There’s no way Trey could’ve avoided jail time.”
Wanting to ease the pain on her face, Dameon put his hand over hers. “Fortunately, Trey is not like those other boys. He’s a good kid and tonight the good kid came through.”
Jesse pulled her hand away. She wrapped her arms around her chest and rocked back and forth. She was pale, shaking.
“I know. God, Dameon, I know how bad it could have been and… and so does Trey. I’m sick about it and so is he.”
Dameon moved closer to her but didn’t touch her. He wanted to give her space without worrying about him. And he needed to keep from doing what every muscle in his body was screaming to do—haul her trembling body up in his arms and hold her close.
“I agree. Let’s talk about constructive things. After I met with the arresting officers I went over his records. Trey was a straight A student in his previous school. Now, he’s barely pulling C’s. Driving over here I called his former basketball coach. I happen to know Doug Straight. I’ve met him at tournaments. He was shocked. He also couldn’t believe Trey didn’t go out for basketball. He said he’d called the high school coach last spring to tell him they had a star coming their way. Doug said Trey is an extremely talented kid—and a good one.”
Jesse shook her head in disbelief. “I had no idea how Garrett felt about basketball. I was as shocked as you must have been. I love basketball and I loved watching Trey play. He’s a shy kid but he comes to life on the court. He becomes a leader. He’s so quiet you rarely see it anywhere else.”
Dameon disagreed. “But we saw it tonight. He came through in the most challenging circumstances.”
Jesse gave him a grateful nod. “Yes, he did.”
She mused. “Coach Straight used to videotape the games for me and email them to me when I was on assignment. He knew how much I liked the game and watching Trey play. I was shocked when Trey told me he wasn’t going out for the team. I know how much the game means to him. I’ve tried to get him to talk about it…but…he's been moody. And I’ve barely seen him since Garrett moved him here. I don’t get to see him nearly as much as I want to.”
Dameon nodded. The situation between her and her ex-husband was crystal clear after the drama tonight.
“Okay. I have a suggestion. I’m going to consult with the juvenile counselors in the morning. If they agree, I’ll talk it over with Trey. I coach a club team that I started a couple years back. The kids are like Trey. They’re on the edge and they could easily fall off. Some will, to be blunt. But a lot of them won’t, because of what they’re learning on the team. They’re all potentially good kids but some are ‘badder’ than the others. They are, to a man, extraordinary basketball players. If you and your ex-husband agree, I think it would be a great thing for Trey.”
He gave her a wry smile.
“Even though I’m a little lighter than his last coach, frankly most of the kids on the team are black or Hispanic, a couple of Indians. They are inner city kids, not white suburban. What you’d expect from kids on the edge. Trey would be the only white kid.”
Jesse’s face contorted with a mix of emotions. “Dameon, I was shocked and angry about the things that Garrett said to Trey. I’m ashamed for him. Garrett has always been class-conscious. Face it, he’s a bigot. But it kills me that he would say those things to Trey. That he would give Trey the idea that those racist remarks and beliefs are acceptable.”
They were quiet. Their silent ponderings hung heavy, palpa
ble in the cool night air. Jesse reached for the throw on the back of the sofa and wrapped it tight around her as if warding off her troubled thoughts.
Dameon filled both of their glasses and regarded her, his eyes narrowed, his brow creased with a frown.
“I’m not going to dwell on this, Jesse, but how the hell did you end up with that asshole?”
Jesse gave a quick pained laugh and shrugged.
“I was young, sheltered… and stupid. In summary, Garrett was the first guy I’d been with. I got pregnant, we got married, and I had Trey. One, two, three.”
She was silent for a moment, ruminating, then her words flowed unchecked.
“Growing up, it was just my father and me. My father was gone most of the time. When he was away I lived with different relatives or with other Army families. By the time I was twelve my father and I decided we’d stop begging people to take me. Dad said I could take care of myself better than any stranger who only wanted the money he gave them. In junior and senior high school I handled all the documents that were supposed to come from my parents. We moved so often none of the schools figured out that I was the mother and the father who signed all the required papers and notes. My father was gone two thirds of the year and, from seventh grade on, I pretty much stayed by myself. My father made sure I could take care of myself. He taught me how to fight, how to be brave. I was smart, painfully shy and kept to myself.”
Jesse took an absentminded swallow from her glass. Her gaze was distant, her eyes glazed.
Dameon hoped she would continue. As challenging as her story was, he needed to hear it. Perhaps it would help him understand this complicated woman who'd gotten under his skin. Way under.
“I met Garrett in my first year at college. He was dashing and the first guy I’d ever dated. Like I said, I got pregnant. His family hated me; they still do. They called me white trash. They thought I was a whore, that I’d gotten pregnant on purpose to snare Garrett. They were wrong, I didn’t know any better. I was only eighteen when I had Trey. I wasn’t a good mother. I just didn’t… know how.”
Dameon did his best to cover his shock. Fortunately Jesse didn’t seem to notice his dismay at her story. She was in a far-away zone, locked in her memory. She tossed out her history in a flat monotone as if she were reciting a rote lesson. Dameon tried to come to grips with the fact that Jesse began living on her own when she was only four years older than his, adored and pampered, daughter was now. Christ, he thought Zoey was independent.
When Jesse paused, he pushed wanting to hear more.
“You must’ve finished college.”
“Oh yes. I loved school. My father was horrified when I got pregnant. He insisted I join the Army. Said it was the best way to get my education paid for. Garrett wouldn’t pay for me to go to school and I couldn’t work. You know, with the baby. My dad was fierce. Dad thought the Army was the answer to everything. To be honest, I loved the Army. It was the kind of life I’d always known. I didn’t care how hard it was to be a woman or to have a kid. Garret hated it and frankly, he hated me. He was ashamed of me. After the first rush I discovered that I didn’t like him either. He was shallow, pampered and felt entitled. I divorced him when Trey was three. Garrett was shocked that I left him. He told me I’d never get his son if I left. He’s been fighting for Trey ever since. Not because he wants him, but because he doesn’t want me to have him. He said I didn’t deserve to have a son of his. That Trey was a ‘Chambers.’ For a long time I was afraid Garrett was right. What could I offer a young boy? Garrett’s family has everything. But I couldn’t give him up. This last thing Garrett did to….”
Jesse stopped and frowned. She glanced around, looking surprised, uncertain. As if she just realized she had been talking for several uninterrupted minutes.
She shook her head. “Uh, never mind. I left the Army and followed them here to fight for my son.”
She sighed and took a large swallow of her drink. She grimaced then glanced at him. Crouching against the corner of the sofa, she looked defensive, guarded.
“I don’t know why I told you all of that. I never talk… about it… or anything… to anyone. It must be the….”
Dameon waited for her to finish the sentence. When she didn’t he moved toward her.
“I agree. That’s enough for tonight, Jesse. This has been a difficult evening. You can tell me the rest of the story some other time.”
She reared up and pushed away, clearly distressed.
“No. There’s nothing to tell. And I don’t tell it at all. That’s the most I’ve ever told anyone about what happened.”
Dameon was cautious.
“You can tell me whatever you do or don’t want to tell me, Jesse. Now and whenever, okay? For what it’s worth, I’m not surprised. It’s been a challenging night. I’ll leave so that you can get some rest. Tomorrow is also going to be difficult.”
Relief bloomed on her face, easing the tight lines around her eyes and mouth. She quickly stood up letting the throw drop to the ground.
“Yes, yes, please. I… you should go now.”
She followed him through the house and out to the front porch. He started to walk down the steps but then turned back towards her. She was leaning against the doorjamb, her pale face luminous in the moonlight. The strain on her face tore at his heart.
His voice was husky.
“Jesse. I don’t think I can leave you looking this sad. Let me put my arms around you. Just for a moment, let me hold you.”
She shook her head no. When he reached for her, she started to resist. Then, surprising them both, she whispered, “Okay,” and leaned into him.
Red Rock Rises: Chapter Thirteen
Dameon held her for a long moment. Her body was rigid against his own. When she let go and leaned into him, he groaned, knowing his resistance was shaky.
“Ah, baby, you really do need this, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t. Please… let me go.”
“Uh uh, not a chance. Just let me hold you, Jesse.”
Running his hands over her back, he pulled her closer and tipped up her chin with his thumb and forefinger, gazing into her eyes.
He murmured, “Relax, Jesse. You can lean on me.”
When she shook her head no, he nipped at her earlobe.
“Remember, tiger, I have broad shoulders.”
Pulling her closer, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her rich intoxicating scent.
“God, woman, you smell good.”
He was shocked at how quickly he’d become aroused. His cock was iron hard and he’d barely touched her. But the die was cast. His body knew what his brain was beginning to accept. There was no hiding what he felt for this woman--from her or from himself. And there was no way to turn back.
He tipped her head up and nipped gently at her full lips.
She murmured, “No, no, no,” but her breath was coming in shallow breathy pants.
He nibbled at Jesse’s lips, licking her, tasting her. Tugging at the corner of her mouth, Dameon bit down softly. She gasped but instead of pushing him away she pulled him closer, her body trembling against his. An involuntary moan escaped her lips.
He groaned a hard masculine sound. “Oh honey, that was a big mistake.”
There was no stopping him now.
Tugging at the binder holding her hair he freed the tangled mass. It tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. He couldn’t hold back his low groan.
He buried his nose and mouth in the fragrant strands.
“Jesus, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? Free your beautiful hair and run my hands through it? Do you, tiger?”
He wound his hand through the curls and tipped her head back. His voice was hoarse, raspy with desire.
“Since the first time I saw you, I wanted to lift up your beautiful face like this. Hold you in place by your hair so I could kiss you.”
Her low moan urged him on.
He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. Gras
ping her bottom lip between his teeth, he tugged on it.
“Open for me, Jesse. Open, baby. Let me come in.”
Shocked at the sensations flooding her, Jesse couldn’t hold back a soft moan. It was as though Dameon had struck a match and her body ignited with a fiery blast.
He groaned and pressed her mouth open, probing inside with his tongue.
“Yes, like that! Open for me.” Taking possession of her mouth, his gentle nips became probing thrusts. To her shock Jesse responded as fiercely. Their tongues tangled as he drove into her mouth. They began kissing frantically. Jesse tasted the burn of the pungent whisky he’d drunk earlier and wanted more. She wanted to taste all of him. She had a crazed need to devour him, take him deeper and deeper in her mouth. His rumbling groan drove her desire to a passionate peak. To her surprise, she reached up to grasp his short tousled hair and began tugging on it. She wanted him more desperately than she’d ever wanted anything.
Crooning harsh, sexy words, he tightened his grip on her hair and pulled her head back baring her throat to his eager mouth. He began licking, nipping at her tender skin, his beard shadow was tantalizingly rough against her throat. Burying his tongue in the sensitive place between her neck and shoulder, he bit down. A wild tremor shook her, sending an electric charge straight to her clit. Shocked by the rioting sensations cascading over her, she cried out a passionate wail.
Dameon regarded her in wonder.
“God, Jesse. Holy Christ, baby. Listen to you. God, woman, you are hot!”
He ran his hands under her shirt carefully avoiding the bandaged area. She felt him hesitate and shook her head frantically. Grabbing hold of his hands, she pressed them against her breasts.
“No, no, it doesn’t hurt. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
