1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Fourteen

by Kristen Ashley

  They’re good-looking guys. Not hot-tattooed-fighter good-looking, but more like successful-banker-golfer good-looking.

  I try to politely brush them off while Eve gives them death stares, mumbling something about asswads and pricks. It’s bad enough that we’re in the club at all, but getting kicked out for public drunkenness is sure to draw unwanted attention.

  Punching a quick text to Jonah that we’ll be out front in fifteen minutes, I look up to see Eve with her arm slung over banker-golfer number one. She teases her finger at the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt. Guess her anger at men is over.

  “Eve, our ride will be here any minute. What do you say we hit the ladies’ room and make our way to the door?”

  Totally ignoring me, she runs her hand into Number One’s hair and leans in to whisper in his ear. Pink Shirt steps in my space, pressing me back into the bar and blocking my chance for escape.

  I flatten my palm to his chest. “Can you please step back?”

  “You ran away from me earlier. Can’t let that happen again.”

  The smell of his breath makes my stomach clench. My spinning head, combined with fear and a belly full of liquor, has me tasting bile.

  I try to implore Eve for help, but she’s face to face with Number One.

  Pink Shirt hooks a piece of my hair with his finger. “You’re gorgeous.” He motions to his friend with a tilt of his head. “My buddy and I have a room at Trump. Looks like your friend and my friend are hitting it off.”

  He’s right. Number One has his face buried in Eve’s neck.

  He steps closer so that I’m arched back over the bar, my head turned away. He leans to my ear. “What do you say you and me—”

  “What the fuck is going on here?” The voice comes from down the bar, but it’s unmistakably male and mad.

  Pink Shirt steps back, freeing me, while Number One is yanked violently backwards. Eve shrieks and falls back onto her barstool.

  Pink Shirt looks like he’s about to run, but sways as if he doesn’t know if he should attempt to help his friend.

  Number One’s down. A man wearing all black holds him by the neck of his shirt and shouts in his face. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but from the look on the poor guy’s face, it’s terrifying.

  The man in black shoves Number One hard to the ground and turns to Eve. Only then do I catch the face of our knight in shining armor.

  My heart races and I break out in a sweat. Stalking towards us with a murderous look on his face, he gets right into Eve’s space. Nose to nose, he stares her down as she looks up at him doe-eyed.

  “You trading me for a pussy-ass, country-club boy, Eve?” Vince’s body trembles with rage.

  Terror works behind Eve’s eyes as she shakes her head.

  “Vince, she didn’t do anything wrong. Those guys wouldn’t leave and—”

  He rakes his eyes over me, and my mouth slams shut.

  “Mind your own fucking business!” All pleasantries from our first two meetings are gone.

  “Vince, please, look at her. You’re scaring her,” I whisper, trying to control my voice. She’s not the only one who’s scared.

  “Look, you little slut.”

  I flinch as his insult cuts deep.

  “I told you this is none of your business. You wanna make it your business, I can do that. You two are coming with me, and I’ll be happy to make it your business . . . all night long.”

  “You wouldn’t . . . I mean . . . Dominick . . .” The vicious smile that breaks his angry expression tells me everything. Dominick doesn’t care about me. As long as I’m able to solicit myself for him, he could give a rip about what Vince does to me.

  Tears burn my eyes as the reality sinks in. I’m breathing rapidly. The hurried beat of my heart pounds in my ears. I should run, but I can’t leave Eve.

  He eyeballs me from my boobs to my shoes and licks his lower lip. He wraps his arm around Eve’s waist, pulling her from her seat. Her eyes are unfocused as he tugs her close to his side. His free arm shoots to me. The impact of his grip throws my body forward. He drags us through the club. I stumble to keep upright. The crowd of gyrating bodies part as he storms through the dance floor to the club’s exit.

  With a firm kick, the double doors fly open, and we’re in the secluded alley behind the building. I take a sobering breath of fresh air to clear my head. I need to get us free so we can run. But how? Looking around frantically, I search for a way out, knowing I have only seconds before we’re locked in his car.

  My mind surges with questions. What would Guy tell me to do? What would Jonah tell me to do? And with that comes my answer, loud and clear.

  Fight.

  Adrenaline floods my veins. Energy strengthens my muscles as I struggle in his grip. I pull against his hold, digging my heels into the pavement. His eyes shoot towards mine and narrow. His grip gets tighter and Eve whimpers.

  I twist my arm as hard as I can, and his hold begins to slip. Twisting and pulling, a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder. Desperate to free myself, I push through the ache. Vince stops walking and I yank down. My arm slips from his hand. He grabs hold with his other hand. He let Eve go.

  “Eve, run! Run!”

  Blinking wildly as if she woke up from a trance, she takes off. Vince has my back, his arm locked around my waist, hand gripped on my throat. Screaming is out of the question as his crushing embrace robs me of breath. I struggle to get free and my vision starts to recede. The sound of heavy footfalls pounding the pavement behind us has me jerking in his hold.

  My vision goes black as two words scream in my head.

  Help me!

  Twenty-one

  Raven

  One minute I’m choking, desperate for air, and the next I’m on all fours sucking precious oxygen into my lungs. Hearing a scuffle, I turn to see what freed me.

  Shock freezes my body. Vince is on his back and Jonah is straddling him. His fists are pounding Vince’s face. His colorful arms are blurry with the speed of each blow. The sickening thud of each blow is a drastic contrast to the beauty and fluidity of his movements. Jonah’s arms swing with deadly accuracy. But Vince is out, his body flopping from side to side with the power of each punch.

  “Jonah, stop. You’ll kill him.” My burning throat makes my voice a little more than a whisper, not enough to penetrate Jonah’s rage.

  I crawl to him with trepidation and place myself by Vince’s bloody face.

  “Jonah, stop. I’m okay. I’m right here. You have to stop now.” My voice is gentle, and it’s then that his arms slow their gory punishment.

  Jonah’s body stills, but his chest swells and deflates with deep breaths. Reaching forward, I place my hand on his forearm. His head jerks, and his eyes connect with mine, wild and distant. He blinks a couple times and I see my Jonah return.

  “God, baby, are you okay?” His words falter with the power of each breath.

  Jumping off Vince, he pulls me to my feet. His eyes move over my body along with his hands.

  “I was out front. I saw Eve run from behind the club. I ran as fast as I could. He had you . . . Shit, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little scared. Where’s Eve?”

  “I told her to go to the truck and sit tight.” He looks back at an unconscious Vince. “Who the fuck is that piece of shit?”

  I drop my eyes to the ground, wanting to slap myself. I never told Jonah about Vince. “That’s Vince, Eve’s boyfriend,” I take a deep breath, “and Dominick’s right hand.”

  His eyes grow narrow and his muscles tense. “That motherfucker!”

  An echo of Jonah’s curse rings off the walls of the alley. The H2 I saw at Eve’s the other night is parked there, hidden in a service entrance of the warehouse next to the club. Without a soul around, I’m thankful no one was a witness to what Jonah did to Vince. But I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Jonah hadn’t shown up when he did.

  “We need to get out of here.” I rub my neck an
d wince as my shoulder protests the movement.

  Jonah looks undecided as to whether he should finish the job he started on Vince or get us to the truck. Moaning drifts from the bloodied piece of meat beside us, and that seems to force Jonah into a snap decision. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and the other around my stomach, supporting my weight, and we hurry to the truck.

  It’s a silent ride to Eve’s house except for her occasional apologies for Vince’s behavior. I see hurt in her eyes, but not hurt that she just found out her boyfriend is abusive. The pain in her eyes is that of a girl with a broken heart. Will she always be attracted to men who hurt her like her father did? God, I hope not.

  We drop her off at her insistence. She wants to be alone, and I don’t blame her. She has a lot to think about. Jonah walks through her house, turning on all the lights and making sure she feels safe before she locks herself inside.

  Safe in the cab of the truck, I allow myself to feel the weight of what happened. I turn my head to face out the window, not wanting to give Jonah any more to worry about. A silent sob rips through my body as tears of fear, guilt, and anxiety flow down my cheeks. The driver side door slams shut and a warm hand covers mine. I interlace our fingers, hold on tight, and vow to never let go.

  ~*~

  Jonah

  “That son of a bitch!” Blake’s response to my re-telling of the evening’s events mirrors my own.

  I grip my phone tighter before loosening my hold, remembering what happened the last time I took out my anger on my phone. To avoid putting my fist through a wall, I force myself to my bed.

  “You told him at Zeus’s Playground to pull his tails on Raven. I was there. I heard you!”

  I don’t know if calling Blake was the smartest choice. Talking shit out with Blake usually helps me decompress. Right now, he’s just getting me worked up. I sit back and stare at the ceiling, hoping I can calm my ass down before Raven gets out of the shower. The poor girl has had a round trip ticket to hell and back. The last thing she needs is her raging boyfriend climbing the fucking walls like a caged animal.

  “I almost killed him. I swear if I hadn’t heard Raven’s voice begging me to stop, I would have. Seeing that motherfucker with his arms wrapped around her . . .” My sentence trails off as my jaw clenches so tight I’m spitting words through my teeth.

  “Sounds like it’s time for another meeting with dear ol’ dad,” Blake says, his voice holding a hint of excitement.

  “Yeah, I have to talk to my girl first, get the story on this Vince guy.” My head falls to the backboard and I rub my eyes with my free hand. “You should see her arm. All dressed up, lookin’ hot as hell, with a fucking bruise in the shape of a man’s hand on her arm.” The calm that had been slowly moving through my body dissolves into anger. “He had her fucking neck!”

  “At least you taught that fucker a lesson. Don’t think he’ll be messin’ with Raven again after you flipped the switch on his ass."

  He’s got a point. I had to trash one of my favorite shirts because it was splattered with his blood.

  “Look, the fight’s this week. You and Raven lie low until then. You don’t need any more publicity than you…”

  My attention is drawn from Blake to the sound of the shower being turned off.

  “What the fuck is Eve thinking?” His angry question jerks me back to the conversation.

  “Don’t know, don’t fucking care. This douchebag’s been on Raven’s ass from the get-go. I’m putting this shit to an end.”

  “Fuckin’ A, brother,” Blake says under his breath.

  The bathroom door opens and Raven walks out in nothing but a towel. My mind clears of everything that happened tonight at the sight of her wet skin. I imagine drying her with my mouth as my eyes devour her legs and move over her towel to her arms. Her arm. The angry bruise brings me back in a violent rush.

  I glare at the color on her arm. “Gotta run. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Right. Tell your girl to stay strong.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  Tossing my phone on the bedside table, I watch Raven put on a short pair of drawstring sleeping shorts, no panties, and a thin tank top. Blinking, I tell myself that my body can wait but the conversation we need to have cannot.

  “Baby, come here.”

  I make room for her on the bed, and she quickly takes her place at my side. Her cheek is pressed to my chest and her finger traces lazy circles on my abdomen. My dick responds immediately. I place my hand over hers to stop the stimulation before I forget my own name and bury myself inside her.

  “Um, you’re going to have to stop that so we can talk. Shit happens to my body that short-circuits my brain.”

  I feel her smile against my chest. She pushes her hand out from under mine, down past my belly button. I groan as her delicate fingers slip beneath my shorts.

  “I, ah . . .” My mind goes fuzzy and my heart pounds in my chest.

  Her soft hand grasps me in a firm hold and my hips jerk in response. Fuuuck.

  “I know you want to talk, Jonah, and we will. But right now, I need you.”

  I can’t remember what we were going to talk about, and I don’t care.

  Her hand picks up its pace and pressure. My eyes fix on her forearm as her lean muscles flex with each stroke. The fruity smell from her clean hair makes my mouth water. My lips burn with the need to kiss her.

  “Baby, I want your mouth,” I say, panting.

  She kisses my neck, a tease with her full wet lips that has me achingly frustrated. I wrap my hand behind her neck, sifting my fingers through her hair, then grip tight. She moans.

  I bring her luscious lips to mine, taking what I want. Our tongues crash together as I convert my anger from earlier into passion. The feel of her teeth as she nips impatiently at my lips makes me think she’s doing the same. My mouth is flooded with her pure, clean taste. I flex my hands in her hair as her sweet mouth moves against mine in a sensual rhythm.

  She presses her breasts into my chest and her stroke quickens. I’m fighting not to roll my eyes at the perfection of her touch. Reaching down, I release my button and zipper, freeing myself for her. She smiles against my lips then sucks on my lower lip. I can’t help but imagine she’s sucking on something else, and I groan.

  She breaks the kiss and locks her blue-green eyes on mine. Her eyebrows raise a fraction as if she’s asking a question. Then her hand releases me just enough to slide her hand lower.

  “Mmm . . .” My head falls back and my eyes slam shut. She’s never done this before, and I marvel at her growing confidence. Her gentle play and tender touch are both teasingly sweet and erotic as hell. My stomach muscles contract as I let her explore.

  Desperate to feel her, I slide a hand beneath her tank top. Her soft skin is pliable against my rough hands. I cup her firm breast then knead, rolling the tip between my thumb and forefinger. Her sexy curves push and rub against me, enticing my body.

  “I want you naked,” I growl.

  Pushing myself up, I straddle her knees, and pull her tank top off. She sucks in a pained breath and falls back to the bed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My shoulder,” she says with a grimace.

  “Shit, baby. I don’t want to do this if it’s going to hurt you.” The thought alone is like dumping ice cold water on my crotch. “I already feel like an asshole not giving you more time to heal after last night.” I sit back on my heels and pray she doesn’t want to stop.

  “I can’t explain it,” she says and pushes herself up on one elbow. “All I know is that, after everything I went through tonight, I want to feel safe and cherished. Protected.”

  I look into her eyes and watch them brim with tears.

  “I want you . . . I need you to love me. Please.” She’s beautiful all the time, but the vulnerability in her eyes as she pleads robs me of speech.

  I lean forward and she lies back. My tongue licks at the crease of her mouth, requesting entrance. We have
plenty of time for rough passion. Tonight, I want to love her at a deliberate pace.

  I slip my hand beneath the drawstring of her shorts and she breaks the kiss, gasping at my contact. Her hips move in rhythm with my fingers. I brace myself above her on one elbow, mesmerized by her response: her lip sucked into her mouth, moaning. White knuckles grip the sheets as her hips push and roll against my hand.

  Perfect.

  Her hands move to her shorts, and, with a lift of her hips, she pulls them down. I do the same, ridding myself of the stifling confinement. She’s naked before me, chest rising and falling erratically, and knees wide in invitation. I caress her thighs, taking in all that is mine. Only mine. She stares openly at my hard-on, making it twitch, and I watch her eyes widen.

  From my kneeling position between her legs, I grab her hips and pull her up so her ass is resting on my thighs. I spread my knees, bringing myself lower and pulling her higher until we meet. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I slip my hands below her ass and tilt.

  “Jonah.” There’s an edge of concern in her voice.

  This is a new position for her, and I’m sure she’s nervous. My chest swells with the knowledge that every position will be new to her and I’m the one who gets to teach her.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  Her expression relaxes with a tiny smile.

  I push forward, and just like last night, my stomach is gripped with the urge to thrust. Slowly. I repeat it in my head. Inch by inch I ease into her. My eyes take in the sight of our bodies connecting. The silky heat, gripping pressure, and visual stimulation turn me into an emotional live wire. I pull out an inch and push in two more. Over and over, slowly until I’m buried deep. I pause and fight the explosion coiling in my body. Think of something else. I go over a list of choke holds. Triangle choke, gator roll, rear naked choke . . . Oh, no, not that one.

  The image of my body connected to Raven’s becomes too much. I fall forward, bracing my weight with my arms and straighten my legs. Raven immediately responds to the closeness of our mouths by devouring mine. I move above her in lazy strokes, taking in each sensation. My chest brushes against her breasts with each painstakingly slow thrust. She squirms with impatience beneath me.