“There’s only one part of me registering anything right now and it’s not above my waist.”
“The hotter you burn, the sassier you get.” He crawled over her long enough to kiss the end of her nose then rolled so he lay beside her, one knee cocked in a casual, sexy pose. Funny, how he was completely dressed and she was buck naked, but didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable. “You okay with how things went down?”
“Hmm?”
He inched closer and smoothed his fingertips over her mound. “I’m asking if anything was too much for you.”
She opened her mouth to fire off another smart-ass comment, but promptly shut it the second she locked on to Jace’s deadly serious gaze. Was he out of his mind? She freaking loved it. For the first time in her life, she’d experienced the kind of passion she’d only fantasized about. Rough, raw, carnal bliss, and then some. Of course, the whole spanking and dirty talk thing might just have been him giving her what he surmised she wanted. If she admitted how much she liked it, he might think she was a freak.
Tell him the truth.
The thought zapped through her in a liberating strike. Why couldn’t she own it? If anyone would accept her like she was, it would be Jace. “I liked it.”
His lips curled in a wicked but oh-so-gratifying grin, and he drew slow tempting circles on the inside of her thigh. “You screamed my name loud enough to carry through the whole house. I’d say you more than liked it.”
Damn. “You don’t think your mom and Sylvie heard, do you?”
His slow, easy laughter wrapped around her. “No one here but us, sugar. Wouldn’t give a shit if the whole family was here, though. Fucking love the sound of my name from your mouth.” He slid his hand to her knee and lifted her leg up and over his hip so her core was exposed. Slow and soft, he brushed his fingers along her sex. “Want to see my come here. Want you to feel it when I mark you.”
Her stomach flip-flopped and it was all she could do not to squeeze her thighs around his questing touch.
“You got a problem with Zeke running tests?” he said.
“That depends.” Gone was her loopy tone, replaced with something far more husky. “Are you comfortable with Zeke doing a pelvic on me?”
He scowled and cupped her mound in a proprietary way that might have pissed her off it hadn’t come off so defensive. “Scratch that. We’ll get you a woman doctor. The only man getting anywhere near your pussy is me.”
She rolled her lips inward to fight back her smile. Good to know she wasn’t the only one rolling around in the possessive neck of the woods. Probably best she got off the topic of sex before things got out of hand and he stood Axel up for the entire shift. “So, you want to run tests and change the gender of my gynecologist. Now that we’re clear you’re not out to break things off between us, what exactly did you want to talk to me about?”
She’d thought the change in topic might unwind some of the tension, but if anything, his scowl turned uglier. He tugged the comforter from underneath her legs and covered her up, not meeting her eyes. “The guys think you’re safe. Beck and Knox have combed all the evidence, and they think I was the target, not you.”
“Someone tried to kill you?”
He shoved his hair away from his face and reclined against the headboard. “It wasn’t an accident. Got security cameras in the parking lot, and the man with the gun was aimed straight at me, so it was a hit.”
“Why would someone want you dead?”
“Hell if I know. Got a lot of people I’ve pissed off over the years, but don’t know any who’d want me to stop breathing.” He shrugged and laced his fingers with hers. “Except maybe Hugo. Beck says he’d be shocked if Moreno would pull something so public, though.”
“Then the club is the last place you need to be.”
“Not gonna hide at Haven, sugar. I’ve got a job to do, and I’m going to do it like I always do. Security’s been beefed up and everyone’s on guard. Beckett’s even called in a few of his contacts at DPD to make their presence a little more prevalent. Hopefully not the kind that goes with more arrests and ugly segments on the nightly news. Too much more bad press and even your PR mojo won’t keep my customers coming in.”
He pulled their joined hands up to his mouth and teased his lips across her knuckles, studying her over their joined fingers. His cropped beard tickled her skin and his warm breath radiated deep. Squeezing her hand, he lowered it to the bed and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. A second later, her keys dangled from his fingertips. “Axel brought it out for you. He parked it out front.”
“I can go?”
The second the question came out, his face hardened and his chocolate eyes glimmered closer to black. His lips pressed together so hard they were nearly white. “I’d rather you stay, but it’s your call.”
God, it was tempting. The last seven days had been so easy, surrounded by people that accepted her no matter what mood she’d been in or how she’d presented herself. Even showing up to breakfast with no makeup in Jace’s pajama bottoms with the waist rolled up too many times to count and an oversize T-shirt, they didn’t blink.
And Jace...being around him centered her. Took the edge off all the should-dos and have-tos running around in her head, just by being close to him. Surrender would be so simple.
Jace’s rumbling voice cut into her thoughts. “You’re not staying, are you?”
“You have no idea how strong of a personality you are, do you?”
“Don’t know much about my personality, but I’d heave a Mack Truck across the driveway with my own two hands and feet if it meant you staying here.”
She giggled at the image and ran her fingers through the soft beard along his jawline. “What was your first business?”
“A little pub in lower Greenville called Trident. What about it?”
“The first time it turned a profit, how did that make you feel?”
“Greedy, which is exactly the reason I want you to stay here, so wherever your logic’s headed isn’t the strongest.”
She pressed a finger over his lips to silence him. “But it felt good, right? Like you could hold your own?”
He nodded, though it was plenty obvious all kinds of retorts were building up in that head of his.
“You’re huge, Jace. Larger than life. I need to know I can hold my own with you. That I’m not taking this path because it’s easy and comfortable, but because I choose it. That I’m strong enough you won’t swallow me up.”
He lifted the hand she’d used to silence him and nipped the pad of her finger. “Not an ounce of weak in you, sugar. Afraid, maybe, but not weak.”
She traced his lower lip. “There’s a difference between you believing it and me believing it.”
Cupping the side of her face, he leaned in, pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I’ll give you that one,” he murmured.
His cold, platinum Haven tags knocked against her knuckles where she touched his chest. She scooped them so they lay in her palm and traced the Haven emblem with her thumb. “You’re lucky. Growing up with people you can count on, who support you no matter what, is precious. You have no idea what I’d have given to have that in my life.”
His fingers tightened in her hair, and he cocked his head at a thoughtful angle. “You might not have had it growing up, but you can have it now. My family’s yours if you accept them. I get you need time to figure it out on your own, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to reel you in.” Slowly, he lifted the chain over his head and put it around her neck. “You keep these, and remember that.”
“Jace, I can’t take these.”
“You can and you will.” He kissed her forehead, pulled away and rolled to his feet, tucking his T-shirt into his jeans. “I’ve got to get to work. You feel the need to bail tonight, you do it early so you don’t fall asleep driving home.”
“Ja
ce—”
“It’s all right, sugar. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.” He anchored one arm beside her, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and cradled her face. His gaze roamed her features as though locking every detail away for the very last time, and his lips pinched tight. When he spoke, his strained voice raked her from the inside out. “You take what time you need, then get your ass back to me.”
Five seconds later he was gone, his powerful strides carrying him out the door without so much as a backward glance.
Surely taking some time to adjust and get her bearings was the smart move. No one in their right mind would dive into a healthy relationship this fast. Especially after everything she’d been through.
She clenched the tags above her heart and scrunched deeper into the pillows, the weight of her decision pressing on her heart. It might be the smart move, but it hurt like hell.
Chapter 24
Viv punched the mute button on the TV’s remote and tossed it to the couch cushions beside her. The vibrant graphics from the fast food ad illuminated her townhouse’s otherwise dark living room and sent towering shadows up the vaulted ceiling.
Jace was right. Her decor was pretty, but it was about as homey as a hotel room. The neutral colors and clean lines added up to a whole lot of meh. On the bright side, she could make it almost five minutes down here without thinking about him. In her bed or her safe room, she was lucky if she could make it three consecutive seconds. Sleeping without him curled protectively around her was impossible.
Her phone’s home screen glowed 10:07 p.m. Over twenty-four hours since she’d left Haven and not one call from Jace. She’d been so certain coming home was the right thing to do, a way to center herself and give her emotions some time to level out. Instead, it just seemed to spotlight all the good she’d left behind. She’d thought for sure he’d call at least once to check in, but the stupid phone had sat dark and dead all stinking day—except for the hundred times she’d checked it “just in case.” Maybe her leaving had pissed him off and made him rethink what he wanted.
She dropped her head back on the cushion and let out a frustrated huff. The mental gymnastics were exhausting, bullshit insecurities colliding with what few reasonable thoughts her mind could pull together. For about the hundredth time since he’d draped them around her neck, Viv fisted his Haven tags and closed her eyes. The cold platinum dug into her palm and the Haven emblem burned as clear in her memory as it had the times she’d studied it in the light. The gift shouldn’t mean so much. Heck, to most women it would seem almost juvenile. Something more expected in a high school soap opera. But the second the chain had settled around her neck, her whole world had tilted, the dreams of closeness and acceptance rattling up from long-locked emotional vaults she’d never imagined reopening.
My family’s yours if you accept them.
There had to be a kicker. In her family there had always been a gotcha, an inevitable rug yanked from beneath her feet, or disappointment pitfall. She’d managed it. Adjusted her expectations and grew accustomed to the emotional bumps and bruises.
With Jace and his family, it wouldn’t just be bumps and bruises. Their level of peace and support would put the altitude too high for minor injuries. Oh, no. She’d suffer all kinds of broken and bloody feelings if things ever went south. She wasn’t even sure she’d survive the kind of hurt that went with loving Jace.
The TV brightness flashed behind her eyelids.
On the screen, blue and red police lights strobed in the latest news segment, and well-dressed patrons milled in a parking lot among some of DPD’s finest.
Viv unmuted the volume and tugged her chenille blanket up to her shoulders just as the video cut to Paul Renner mid press conference. The graphic at the bottom of the screen read House of Representatives Candidate Speaks Out.
“This country is all about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and I, for one, fully support those who reach for the American dream of building their own business. But when the safety of our citizens is in jeopardy, something must be done. The longer we allow businesses who condone or protect dangerous activities to flourish, the more the violence will escalate.”
“Ugh.” Viv punched the TV off with a harsh click of the remote and tossed it to the coffee table. What an idiot. How did people not see past that slimeball?
The same way they don’t see past Jace.
And she’d been one of them.
Tossing the blanket aside, she padded to the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the wood floors. Jace would sure get a kick out of these pajamas, white flannel bottoms with silver moons and stars, and a gray wifebeater that made her usual tanks look saintly. She snatched what was left of the bottle of red she’d started last night and poured a generous glass. God, she hoped she slept tonight. No way could she face Jace at Crossroads tomorrow without at least a few uninterrupted hours, assuming he didn’t go back to pawning her off on Axel.
The phone rang midgulp, the polite ringtone she used to give a professional image grating against the otherwise blistering silence.
Jace.
Viv clunked her wineglass down and hurried to the couch, snatching it up so fast she nearly fumbled it.
Callie’s contact picture shined up at Viv from the phone’s screen. The image was four or five years old, her sister’s innocent smile wide and happy, and her eyes clear and sober.
The warmth behind Viv’s sternum withered and a heavy weight settled on her shoulders. She slid her thumb across the screen. “Hey, Callie.”
Her sister’s frantic voice whispered through the phone, and for once, her words weren’t slurred together. “Vivie, you gotta help me. I’m in trouble.”
* * *
“Our organization simply cannot condone poor behavior from those receiving charitable funds. My recommendation is we adopt a zero tolerance stance on any actions taken by our award winners resulting in legal ramifications.”
Jace fisted his hand beneath the table and fought the urge to coil the same amount of pressure around the new director’s throat. For the last two hours, he’d listened to the charity’s newest jackass lay out his new and improved plans for the organization, but this one he couldn’t keep quiet on. “This organization is supposed to benefit troubled boys. The mission statement pretty much demands the benefactors, in fact, be troubled.”
Aaron Davidson, aka new fearless leader and close associate to Paul Renner, sneered at him from the head of the long conference table. “I’d expect such a perspective out of you. Given the latest news reports, I’m not sure you’re the best individual to offer advice on this issue.”
“As long as my money’s funding two-thirds of your scholarships, you’ll listen or you’ll lose the contributions. For repeat offenses, I’ve got no problem yanking money, but no one, and I mean no one, yanks themselves out of the gutter without a few slips. You’d know that if the soles of your Italian shoes ever got real-life grime on them.” Jace shoved upright fast enough his chair legs grated against the marble floors. “It’s late. You debate all you want, but you know where my head is on this.”
He stalked from the room and down the long, sterile hallway. For years, they’d met at the downtown museum, and normally he’d take his time leaving to enjoy the private works kept in the back offices. This time they blurred past him, so damned much adrenaline coursing through his veins it was hard to walk. Sanctimonious assholes, every one of them.
Well, maybe not all of them. Evelyn and a few of the other women were good people, but men like Davidson rubbed him all kinds of wrong. They wouldn’t know a hard time if it crawled up in their lap and sucked their damned dicks. Of course, he hadn’t exactly gone in tonight in the best frame of mind. A full fucking day he’d waited and not one fucking call from Vivienne. He knew she was safe. In the week she’d been at Haven, Beck and Knox had wired her security up good and tight, and Danny was
on watch, making sure she was really as safe as his brothers assured she’d be. Still, it was like she’d run home and locked him out of her head.
Well, he’d make sure she remembered who he was tomorrow. He’d meant every damned word he’d said to her over the last week, and like it or not, he’d show her how a real man got what he wanted.
“Mr. Kennedy.”
Jace spun toward the feminine voice behind him.
Evelyn Frank hurried his way, her heels clicking out a quick tempo. She stopped just an arm’s length away and pressed a hand against her chest while she caught her breath. “I’m sorry to hold you up.”
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled to attention and his shoulders pushed back, instinctively bracing for whatever news lurked behind her uneasy smile. “Yeah, I’m ready to be done. What do you need?”
“Well.” She glanced down the hall toward the meeting room. “Mr. Davidson thought it might be less disruptive if you provided your votes via proxy going forward. Of course, I’d be happy to relay agenda items and votes for consideration when needed.”
“Less disruptive, huh?”
She ducked her chin and smoothed the front of her peach dress. “I’m sorry. I don’t particularly care for the new direction thus far, but I do want your voice to be heard.”
Damn, he was sick of this shit. Of Paul, and Davidson, and all the other pompous pricks who thought their shit didn’t stink. They had no problem taking his money, but they wanted nothing to do with his voice or his ideas.
For the first time in more years than he could count, he didn’t have a decent comeback. “Yeah. Whatever.” He turned and strode down the hallway, leaving Evelyn locked in place.
He’d cleared the front doors and started down the steps to the parking lot when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Danny’s name and number flashed across the screen. “Viv okay?”
“Don’t know, but she’s on the move.”
Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood) Page 24
