Brian didn’t seem to think that far. He drew his arm back and let another punch fly. Jackson ducked, grabbed Brian’s fist and used the man’s momentum to send him stumbling several steps away.
That did nothing to cool Brian’s anger. In fact, it made his skin flare red with unchecked fury.
Jackson began bouncing on his feet, preparing for Brian’s next move. The man swung and missed, his fists flailing with temper more than skill. Unfortunately, even a blind squirrel uncovered a nut now and then, and Brian managed to land a few shots—one to Jackson’s face, another couple to his body.
What he wasn’t ready for were the words that poured out of Brian’s mouth as he moved. Or his own reaction to them.
“She’s using you, Duchane. Spreading her legs just to get closer to the gold. It’s all she cares about. Her dad’s legacy. You’re nothing but a tool.”
Brian’s lips twisted into a self-righteous smirk. “She’ll get exactly what she wants and when she’s done with you, she’ll head straight back to the perfect life she’s built for herself in Chicago.”
Jackson’s body flooded with heat. Stepping into Brian, he twisted his hand in the other man’s shirt, pulled his face close.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you imply that Loralei’s no better than a gold-digging whore,” he growled.
It was one thing for Brian to take cheap jabs at him, but entirely another for him to disparage Loralei’s reputation.
Hauling back, Jackson put every ounce of power he had behind the punch. It landed squarely on target, right beneath Brian’s chin, sending the other man sprawling backward. His arms windmilled. His body hit one of the tables before ricocheting off the hard edge and collapsing to the floor in an uncoordinated heap.
A clatter sounded behind him. Silverware and plates hitting the floor and breaking.
15
“WHAT THE HELL is going on?” Loralei’s raised voice shot into the room.
She rushed straight past him, skidding to her knees beside Brian, tossing Jackson a glare on her way by.
“Are you okay?” she asked, pulling Brian’s shoulders up off the floor and cradling his head in her lap.
Brian nodded, giving her a glazed look that Jackson had to admit made him pretty damn proud. One solid right hook and the man was dazed and confused.
“Infantile children. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes.” Waving at one of the other men from her crew to help her, Loralei ushered Brian to his feet.
He swayed slightly, leaning heavily against Loralei’s shoulder.
Jackson didn’t particularly want to help Brian, but he sure as hell didn’t want the man draped around her, either. Stepping forward, he tried to take Brian’s weight, but Loralei pushed him away.
“You’ve done enough.”
Jackson ground his teeth together, trying to find a lid to push back down over his temper. “Enough? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You knocked him on his ass, Jackson. With one punch. You’re a SEAL, for God’s sake, and have at least forty pounds of solid muscle on him. Brian isn’t anywhere near your weight class.”
“Which is why I ignored his jabs and insults...until he suggested you were exchanging sex for information.”
Loralei gasped.
The room went utterly silent.
Her skin flushed bright red and Jackson immediately regretted his words. Not because she didn’t deserve to know, but because he could have found a more private way to explain what had happened.
His temper had gotten the better of him, something that rarely happened.
“What is he talking about?” she asked Brian, switching her glare to the other man. Jackson had to admit that made him feel slightly better.
Brian, his intelligence finally returning, kept his mouth shut. But one of Jackson’s crew didn’t have any problem piping up.
“Jackson’s right. He tried to ignore the asshole. Took a couple hits himself without returning fire, too.”
Just the mention of those punches had his jaw throbbing and the tiny cut on his mouth aching.
Loralei’s gaze bounced between the two men, clearly uncertain who to trust. Jackson didn’t say anything more. Was it wrong to want her to believe he was a decent guy? The kind who wouldn’t throw a punch like that without good reason?
Something dangerous settled inside him when she reached for Brian’s arm draped around her shoulder and removed it. Another guy from her crew moved in, taking her spot and helping Brian shuffle out of the galley.
Loralei grabbed Jackson’s hand and marched through the throng of men standing by, eagerly watching the drama unfold. She led him out of the room, and he let her, wondering just what she planned to do with him. It was clear from her heavy steps that her temper was still simmering fairly close to the surface.
She wound through the ship toward his stateroom, not stopping until they were both crammed into the tiny attached bathroom.
Swinging around, she tugged on his shirt until his knees folded beneath him and his butt landed on the closed toilet lid. Loralei was still glaring as she turned to a cabinet, snagged a clean cloth and started running water in the sink to wet it.
With sure movements, she reached for the hem of his shirt and yanked it up over his head. He bit back a hiss when cotton scraped against his abraded skin, sending a shock of pain through his system.
Curling a hand over her hip, Jackson pulled her into the open V of his thighs.
“Don’t,” she said, the single word still stiff and unhappy.
He leaned forward, letting the crown of his head rest against her belly.
She sighed, a deep exhalation that he felt flutter across his hair. “Dammit,” she whispered beneath her breath. But her body relaxed. The tension leaked from her right along with the air.
Bracketing her hands around his face, she applied gentle pressure until he looked up at her.
She shook her head, one corner of her mouth dipping down with exasperation. Her thumb brushed just beside the cut he could feel on his bottom lip.
“You’re a mess.”
He grinned. “You should see the other guy.”
Humor and irritation tinged her gaze. “That isn’t funny. What am I going to do with you?”
A wicked, hopeful grin bloomed. “Kiss it and make it better?”
“You’re not in any shape for that, ace.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why is it that men think sex can fix everything?”
“Because sex is always a good idea. No matter what. Even if we were dying, at least we’d go out riding a wave of pleasure.”
“Like I said, idiots.”
Taking the washcloth, she started dabbing at the cut. His jaw throbbed like a son of a bitch, and it actually hurt worse whenever she touched him, but there was no way he was going to tell her that.
His arm was tight around her waist. She was standing between his open thighs, staring down at him with an intense expression.
It had been a long time since a woman had cared for him this way. Possibly because aside from his stepmom and sister, he’d never let anyone get close enough.
Something warm spread through him, starting at his chest and melting out to every one of his extremities. Suddenly the pain he’d been ignoring faded.
She rinsed out the cloth and continued dabbing at his skin. Her fingers and the water were warm. Soothing.
Until that moment he hadn’t realized he craved that tenderness. It was addicting, having her soft hands soothing his injured skin.
Jackson let her wash away the blood, sitting still even as his entire body responded. His skin tingled wherever her fingertips touched. The ache behind his fly slowly increased, pushing out the edge of pain coming from the rest of his body.
But this was more than his uncontrolled physical response to her touch. He didn’t just want sex. He wanted to worship her body the same way she was soothing his. To take his time and di
scover everything about her—inside and out.
His cock wasn’t the only thing aching, there was a suspicious throbbing sensation right around the center of his chest, as well.
When Loralei was finished with his face, she picked up one of his hands. Staring down at his split knuckles, she breathed out his name before softly brushing her lips across the surface. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
“Defended your honor?”
Loralei’s gaze jerked up to his for the first time since she’d hauled him into the tiny bathroom. He realized the gorgeous green was glazed with unshed tears. That alone had him fighting the need to find Brian and beat on him some more—for starting the whole damn thing and making her cry. That wasn’t Loralei. She was strong, even taking on the mess her father had left her.
She was so fiercely determined she was willing to face her fear of the water and try to conquer it. Jackson admired that.
Standing up, he kept his arms locked tight around her.
“He wants you, Loralei.”
She shook her head, going up on tiptoe, her mouth brushing against his.
It hurt, but he didn’t stop her. In fact, he took advantage of the moment, swiping his tongue across the full swell of her bottom lip.
Slowly, she pulled back. “Brian isn’t standing in this bathroom with me right now.”
“No, no he isn’t.”
Reaching down, Jackson grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. Her glorious dark hair fell around her in a soft cloud. Weaving his fingers through it, he swept it back off her face and stood there for several moments, staring down into her intent gaze.
They breathed together. There was something deeper about this moment. A quiet understanding. Warmth spread through his chest as he drank her in.
He wanted to savor her. Take his time and relish every sigh and gasp and hitch of her breath.
* * *
TAKING THE FEW strides to the bed, Jackson bent and placed Loralei in the center. Instead of joining her, he stood back, and stared down at her for several seconds.
She fought the urge to cover herself. It was a stupid impulse considering everything they’d shared already, but somehow, the way he was looking at her, left her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Not because she was nearly naked—her bathing suit had left more skin bare than what she still wore.
It was something in his expression. The intensity filling those bright blue eyes scared her, almost as much as the ocean used to. She felt the familiar roll deep in her belly.
Her hands twitched, instinctively moving to do something, but Jackson reached down and stopped her.
Pressing a knee into the bed, he deliberately stripped away each piece of her clothing—shoes, shorts, bra and panties. His hands roamed, touching every part of her that he revealed. Yet, his gaze never wavered from hers. That left her feeling restless.
He wasn’t making her uncomfortable, but suddenly she was uncomfortable in her own skin. Without a single word, he was forcing her to admit—at least to herself—that there was something more going on between them than she wanted.
He saw too much. Had from the moment he’d come into that bar and had sat down beside her. No one had ever looked that deeply into her before.
She was used to being ignored, left and forgotten. Not once since he’d walked into her life had Jackson Duchane made her feel that way.
“God, your skin is so soft,” he said, his voice filled with a reverence that should have allayed every one of her fears, but only stoked them higher.
What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if he discovered what she’d done? What would she do when she lost this and had to go back to being alone?
She’d been perfectly happy in her life, but now she wasn’t sure it would ever be enough again. Not without Jackson there.
He wanted her. Thought she was beautiful. That truth shone clearly from his gaze. Not to mention, he’d said as much. But she wanted more. And that scared the hell out of her.
Because she couldn’t have it.
Not with him.
Again, she tried to squirm away, from him and herself. To find a sliver of sanity that would help her keep that barrier between what he was making her feel and what she knew she could have.
This was supposed to be easy. The way Jackson was staring at her didn’t feel easy. It felt big. Bigger than anything she’d ever experienced before.
The heavy hands on her hips held her in place.
“Don’t, Loralei.” She heard the rough edge to his voice and realized she wasn’t the only one feeling vulnerable at the moment.
And that stilled the agitated energy deep inside her.
It was her turn to look up at him, warmth pouring through her body like sunlight. “Come here, Jackson,” she finally said.
When he moved close enough, she started pulling at his clothes, needing him to be as exposed as she’d felt just moments ago. Not for herself, but for him. There was something liberating about coming through the uncomfortable sensation, sharing it—and a piece of herself—with him.
She was just as deliberate about removing the rest of his clothes. Unzipping his jeans, pushing everything down his hips and revealing the tight, toned body she’d become so familiar with over the past few days.
Rolling up onto her knees, she brought them closer together. One hand on his shoulder, the other at his hip, she pressed Jackson back until he complied, stretching out on the bed as she had.
She stared down at him, letting her gaze travel the length of his body. There was no denying he was gorgeous by anyone’s standards. His body was packed with muscle, golden skin stretched across the straining sinews. But she didn’t just see a man with a beautiful outside.
Loralei saw what was beneath. What that body meant.
Jackson was the kind of man who believed in strength and honor. He’d fought to protect the country, taking on dangerous tasks knowing that most of the time no one would ever acknowledge the peril he’d faced. Because it was the right thing to do.
Starting at his feet, Loralei worked her way up his body, paying special attention with her lips and hands to every long-healed scar or brand new mark of pain. Most of them were nowhere near an erogenous zone, but that wasn’t what the moment was about.
This was her way of saying thanks for caring about her, for taking in her crew, for being the man he was.
She licked at the discolored skin of a scar at his hip, at a jagged pucker of tissue that looked suspiciously like a bullet hole near his left shoulder. Kissing his right knuckles, she couldn’t stop herself from sucking a single finger deep into the recesses of her mouth.
Jackson pulled in a hard breath and then took the opportunity to stroke his fingertip across her tongue. She felt the caress deep inside, as if he’d been stroking her.
His fingers tunneled through her hair, pulling her up until her eyes locked with his. The heat that washed over her was intense, yet somehow soothing at the same time. Familiar.
She wanted to feel him inside her. For the first time she realized just how wet she’d become. Her sex throbbed with the need to be filled, but only by him.
Rising to her knees, Loralei gripped him and brought him to the entrance of her body. And he watched her, his jaw tense as he let her take control, at least for the moment.
Slowly, she slid down onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The sensation of him filling her was glorious. Perfect.
Yet it wasn’t enough. Why did she still feel as if something was missing? That there was more and they simply hadn’t reached it yet?
Her hips pressed hard against his. Loralei stayed there for several seconds, waiting, relishing the sensation of him deep inside her.
But Jackson wasn’t content to take things slowly.
He sat up, wrapped his arms tight around her body. Gripping her hips, he lifted her, running a hand down her thigh until her legs were wrapped around his waist before surging back inside.
The shift
in angle had her pulling in a sharp breath. Taking a tight nipple between his lips, Jackson sucked at the same moment his hips bucked beneath her.
She let out a garbled groan, her head dropping back as her arms tightened their hold around his neck.
She had to move. Now.
Rocking her hips, she timed her movements with each of his thrusts. Their bodies slipped together, rubbing in all the right places.
Never in her life had she felt so close to anyone.
Jackson’s hands spread across her back, urging her tighter against him. He stared up, his gorgeous blue eyes glazed yet still completely focused on her.
His powerful thighs contracted beneath her. Loralei threaded her fingers deep into his hair, searching for something to hold on to.
The storm was building, not just the orgasm gathering at the base of her spine, but something deeper swirling dangerously close to the center of her soul.
God, with little effort this man could become so important to her.
He could become everything.
Maybe he already had.
Before that scary realization could take hold, it spun away, ripped out of her thoughts by the grip of an orgasm so powerful there was nothing left but it.
Jackson let out a low cry, surging deep before joining her in the release.
Panting, they clung together, their skin slick. Jackson’s face was buried in her neck. Her cheek rested on the crown of his head.
She never wanted to move.
16
HE DIDN’T WANT to leave Loralei. It would be so easy to get used to waking up beside her.
He watched her sleep for a bit, trying to reconcile the past few days.
She wasn’t what he’d expected, but he’d known that from the moment he met her. Although that hadn’t stopped him from trying to define her by her father’s actions.
It would have been so much easier if things had been black and white...if he could blame her for what her father had done.
But there was more to Loralei. More to the situation.
And, damn, he was torn.
He wanted to trust her. To believe that what they’d shared last night had meant as much to her as it had to him.
Under the Surface Page 16
