Blackbirds & Bourbon

by Heather R. Blair

  “Open the fucking door, Seph. Or I’ll knock it down.”

  Let him. I don’t fucking care.

  Two seconds later, Jack comes through the door, bringing a swirl of wind and snow with him into the sparsely furnished cabin. This is nothing like the sexy buildings the bruins use on a daily basis. It’s a glorified shed with one bed, a wood stove I never bothered to light and ragged, sun-bleached curtains covering the window. The pine floor is scarred from bear claws and boots and is gritty under the soles of my wet Uggs.

  “You need to leave.”

  “No, you’re not going to be alone. Not tonight.”

  “So you heard.”

  “Of course I did.” I want to ask who told him, but if it’s who I think it was—

  “Get out of here, Jack. I mean it.”

  “Make me.”

  I launch myself at him, teeth bared, nails out. He staggers when I hit him, but barely, which only enrages me even more. I want to see him flat on his back, I want to see pain and blood because somehow if I make Jack hurt badly enough, maybe this ache inside me will go away.

  I kick at his boots, scratch at his leathers and scream in his face, magic crackling around us, warping the air, but Jack doesn’t let me go. He takes all my abuse without a word. It’s only when I’m limp in his arms, panting and sweaty, tears pouring down my cheeks in the frigid air, that he finally speaks.

  “I’m sorry, princess.” He strokes my hair, his voice thick.

  I remember the last time Jack said that to me. When he was delivering me to Georg. Maybe I should’ve gone back to the Den with the stupid bruin that night. Maybe then none of this shit would’ve happened. Maybe Georg would still be alive. I sway and Jack swings me off my feet and into his arms without another word.

  He sets me on the edge of the bed before starting a fire in the old stove.

  Once he’s got it roaring, Jack comes back to kneel on the floor next to me, peeling off my soaked boots and socks, rubbing my freezing feet in his big, warm hands.

  My fingers dig into the thin coverlet. “I told you the nice stuff makes me twitchy.”

  “Deal with it.” That hollow flexes in Jack’s jaw, his hands rubbing just a bit harder. I can hear his teeth grinding together.

  “What?”

  “Sometimes it gets to me. That I can’t do the simplest thing without you thinking it’s an act, or a ploy to get something.”

  “Isn’t it?” I ask wearily.

  He looks up at me, his eyes disturbingly blank, like glass. “You’re about to find out.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He gets to his feet, grabbing a blanket from a shelf over the door I hadn’t even noticed in the hours I’ve been here. I don’t expect an answer, but he surprises me as he thrusts the blanket into my hands. “We’re running out of time, Seph. So I’m about to tell you some things. For all the good it will do either of us at this point.”

  I wrap the musty blanket around my shoulders, as he goes back to the stove. “Like why you hide behind that asshole thing all the time, even though I don’t think it’s who you really are?”

  “Oh, it is.” He pokes at the fire, broad back taut. “Believe me. I was one cold son of a bitch back in the day.”

  “Was? What happened?’

  He looks over his shoulder and smiles tightly. “You happened, Seph.”

  “And I changed you? Yeah, right.”

  Jack doesn’t deign to respond, only raises an eyebrow.

  “Oh whatever, Jack. Is that why you ripped my heart out? Because I changed you? Bullshit.”

  His lips twitch, but there is no amusement in his voice. “No. That was deliberate and you know it.”

  “I know that I loved you, Jack. So. Fucking. Much.” The words spill out of my half-numb lips, and I can’t take them back. Not that it’s news to either of us. I told him as much the night he took me to his bed. He even said the words back to me. All part of his little act.

  “I know.” To my shock, that lithe body slumps and suddenly Jack’s sitting on the bed next to me, his head in his hands. “Believe me, I know exactly what I did to you that day.”

  “Tell me.”

  He drops his hands, his voice steady but dull, as he stares straight ahead. “At first, the plan was simple. And it was my plan, Seph—all mine. When Cerunnos failed, I vowed to succeed. I was going to… stop you. Stop the prophecy from ever happening.”

  His eyes meet mine, full of a grim darkness that makes me ache. “I had a spell that I knew would work, one that I could twist to my needs. I just had to be patient. Let you grow up. Then it would be easy. Seduce the virgin witch and break her heart. I figured it’d take three weeks. A month at the outside.”

  Jesus. He was one cold bastard, wasn’t he? But something doesn’t add up. Jack and I were together over half a year before he made his move.

  “Why drag it out so long? You could’ve had me anytime you pleased after the first couple weeks, and we both know it.”

  “Because once I fucked you, it would all be over. At first, that’s exactly what I wanted, but…” He scrubs his face with both hands, sounding incredibly tired.

  Slowly, it comes to me. “Did you… like spending time with me?”

  He tilts his head back and laughs, but the sound twists my heart. “Like it? Oh baby, I couldn’t think of anything else. You fascinated me from day one. God. After existing for so long, I was like ice inside. Exactly like they say. I hadn’t had an honest-to-goodness emotion since Rochka got hurt. Being with you was like sweet April air after a thousand winters. I’d forgotten what it was like to live.” My throat is closing, watching him. This can’t be for real, can it?

  “You made me see things, feel things… Things that messed with my head, princess, that threw the game out the window and stomped on it.” His voice drops to a rough whisper. “When I finally did what I’d promised to, it damn near killed me.”

  “It fucked me up pretty bad, too,” I say in a small voice. “And I think you’re exaggerating a bit about me.”

  He gets to his feet and in my face so fast, I gasp. Jack leans over the bed, his hands on either side of my hips. “Exaggerating? Why do you think you have so many male 'admirers'? Why do you think an assassin sent to kill you let himself be captured rather than complete his job? Why do you think the king of the bears—one of the most powerful men on the continent, a man who definitely should've known better—couldn't see straight when it came to you?”

  I blink, my throat closing at the thought of Georg, but I swallow and shove the pain aside. “I’m pretty cute, yeah, but I’m not all that.”

  “It’s not always about the cute, Seph—and you are all that. Jesus, you’re everything. And you don’t have a clue.” He gives another bitter laugh. “You’ve never realized I’m further gone than any of them.”

  The raw emotion in his voice slams into my gut, hard. I don’t need the truth stone to tell me Jack is being honest. In that instant, our fucked-up past doesn’t seem to matter anymore. Only that he’s here, right in front of me. And that I suddenly want him so badly my nails dig into my palms as I fight to keep my voice even. “There haven’t been so many. Not really.”

  He’s shaking his head, getting to his feet and pushing away from the bed. “You’re a full-grown woman with a damn healthy libido. You’ve had lots of men, Seph, and that’s to be expec—”

  I stand up and reach out a hand, flattening my palm on his chest. His heart pounds against my fingers. “That’s not exactly accurate. Really there's been only…one.”

  Jack goes still. I don’t think he even breathes for a full minute. Then, “Say that again?”

  I duck my head, unable to look him in the eye. Instead, I run my hands nervously up his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt pocket. I shouldn’t tell him this, I know that. I shouldn’t give him this, but…

  “Persephone?”

  “I’ve played around. A lot, yeah. But I…that is to say…” Finally I raise my gaze to
his. The intensity there takes my breath away. He has to shake me a bit to bring it back.

  “What are you trying to tell me, princess?”

  “You’re the only man who’s been inside me, Jack. Ever.”

  Absolute silence. The temperature in the room plummets. Our breath fogs the air between us, air that seems in very short supply all of a sudden. His fingers tighten on my arms. “Not even Georg?” The rasp of his voice is so low I swear I can feel it, rough against my skin, raising goose bumps.

  “No. Jack—”

  I’m in the air, his name torn from my lips. Luckily, the bed is soft when I land because he’s not. Jack is over me before I can bounce. Pinning me down with that hard body. Hard all over.

  “You shouldn’t have fucking told me that. Goddamnit, Seph. You give me more power over you than I deserve.”

  I look into his face and wonder who those words give more power to because Jack looks shaken to his core.

  I’m not.

  I’m calm and sure when I pull him down to my mouth. But he tears the kiss from me, pushing my hands above my head, my body stretched beneath him, our fingers laced together as he takes what’s his. What’s always been his. His tongue dances with mine, hot, teasing little flicks. He’s hard as stone and I can feel the heat of him thick along my hip. I whimper, shifting in the bed, arching until he’s right where I want him. Jack groans and kisses me harder. I’m on the verge of coming, both of us fully clothed and barely started.

  “I can’t stop this now. I fucking can’t.” He tears his shirt over his head. My throat goes dry as he balls it in his hands, staring down at me, his hips pinning me to the bed. He’s so beautiful. That lean torso above me is taut, every muscle standing out in rigid perfection. It hits me that he’s barely holding on. That Jack is as close to losing his shit as I’ve ever seen him.

  “Nine years. Nine goddamn years. Fuck, every time I see you. Smell you. Do you know what your smell does to me, Persephone?” With a growl, he tosses the shirt behind him.

  “No.” I trail my fingers up his stomach, slowly. His skin feels like warmed satin, pulled tight over all that steely strength. “What do I smell like, Jack?”

  “Like the first rain, the one that brings the flowers out. Like life. That’s how you smell, all sunshine and lilies and spring. But you’re fucking killing me.”

  “I’d never hurt you.”

  He closes his eyes. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  “It’s nothing, princess. Except maybe once, just fucking once, I want the goddamn fairy tale to end the way humans think they do.”

  “A happily ever after? For us?” Something flutters inside me, beating its wings fast and hard. It feels like hope, but that way madness lies. Best to focus on what I know I can have in this moment because the future is something scary and likely to eat us both whole.

  When I pull off my shirt and shrug out of my bra, he sways like someone cold-cocked him.

  “Stop,” he breathes. “I want to do the rest.”

  Those frosty eyes stay locked on my body. Jack’s warm palm skims over my midriff, then the curve of my waist, one finger flicking open the button of my jeans, before moving up to trace my tattoo. My stomach tightens, and chills dance over my skin as he explores. “It’s so gorgeous—what the hell made you decide to do it? You almost passed out the first time you watched Jett tat someone up.”

  “Rochie didn’t tell you?”

  Jack cocks his head, his fingertips continuing their path to where the branches of the tree brush the underside of my breast. My nipples darken and peak. His heated gaze slides over the hard points, before dragging back to my face. “Rochka? What does she have to do with your ink?”

  “I lost a bet with her. So she made me get a tat. With your name in it. Your real name.”

  His eyes narrow. Without a word, he pushes back off the bed, then yanks my hips right to the edge of the mattress. Stripping my jeans from me, Jack kneels between my legs, bending over to examine the tat closer. The ink on his own shoulders ripples as he moves and I bite back a moan, trying to be patient while he looks his fill. He leans so close his lips almost brush my skin as he finds and presses a fingertip to each letter of his name hidden in the tangled roots of the tree over my hip.

  Finally he raises his head, his expression utterly perplexed.

  “I have no idea why she’d do that.” Jack frowns, but I don’t give a damn about Rochie and her fairy bullshit right now. I don’t even bring up what she said about us getting it on before Yule. Feeling his breath against my skin has me squirming, my mind blanking out as a soft whimper escapes my lips.

  His frown fades and a slow grin takes its place. One that turns the flames licking inside me to a roaring fire. He teases the black lace edge of my panties with a fingertip. I’m wearing the Charmed ones Carly bought me last Christmas. His eyes crinkle. “I was kinda expecting pink. But this works.”

  “Take them off, Jack.”

  He gives me a wicked grin and a wink. “As you wish.”

  Oh yeah, this man knows exactly how to get to me.

  Placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my bare stomach, Jack tugs the panties down. His eyes are locked on mine as those roughened fingers slide over my hips and down my thighs. Throwing my panties behind him, he dips his head, letting that sandpaper jaw lightly graze my inner thigh. My ass comes off the bed, but he forces me back down with one hand. “Wait for it.”

  “No. I’ve waited long enough.”

  “Fine.” In one swift movement, he slides those hard, corded arms under my thighs and yanks me to his mouth, driving his tongue deep inside me. My head falls back and my arms fly apart as I scream, fingers scrabbling at the sheets, needing something to hold onto because it feels like he just threw me off of another cliff, only this time I keep falling and falling.

  Pleasure closes over my head, drowning me in liquid ecstasy as Jack tortures me with his mouth. He’s so good at this, like oral is an art form and he’s Da Vinci, Van Gogh and Dali all wrapped into one. His tongue slides out of me to tease my clit, circling round and round until I’m breathless. Then back inside my pussy again, making me clench tight. My toes curl into the warm muscles of his back, my hips rocking helplessly, begging for more. And I know exactly what more I need.

  I slide my fingers into his hair, tugging hard. He makes a disapproving noise deep in his throat, the vibrations nearly sending me over right then and there, but I hold back because this is important.

  “Not yet, Jack. Please. I want you inside me when I come.”

  He lifts his head, and the sight of him between my legs, that perfect mouth slick from pleasuring me… There is the sound of tearing fabric as my fingers rip one of the sheets half off the bed.

  Before I can blink, he’s standing at the foot of the bed, kicking off his boots, peeling off his jeans. I know what Jack looks like naked. The image has been burned into my brain all these years, haunting my dreams and fantasies, but he’s all that I remembered and a bag of chips.

  The party size.

  Muscles ripple with every movement of that lithe body, making my throat dry.

  He straightens, obviously enjoying my eyes on him, my half-open mouth as I stare. Good thing he’s already taken off my panties or they would’ve spontaneously combusted. Those wide shoulders roll with power even as he casually kicks his jeans across the floor. Tattoos curl and twist down his carved arms like blackened smoke, seeming to float above his skin in the half-light of the lantern.

  Holy fucking horned one, gimme. I lick my lips. Jack groans, stroking himself once before kneeling on the bed and sliding over me. My legs wrap around the hard planes of his waist, my fingers running up his forearms and higher. I look right into his eyes. “No more teasing, Jack. We’ve been doing foreplay for like a decade now. Let’s do this.”

  Laughing softly, he leans his forehead against mine. My breath catches as the underside of his cock slides over my pussy lips, bumpi
ng gently over my clit in a way that has my nails scoring his skin. “I could hurt you. It’s been so long…”

  “Believe me, the only thing that’s going to hurt is you dragging this out.”

  He nods once, his eyes never leaving my face as he positions himself.

  When Jack pushes inside me, slow and hard, joining our bodies together, the pleasure is blinding. I close my eyes because I can't bear it, my palms cupping the bunched muscles of his arms as he sinks deep. My mouth opens on a gasp and my head falls back. Something soft and cool brushes my face, again and again. I force my eyes open and let out a shaky laugh.

  “You're making it snow.” I stare at the flakes drifting down, dusting his dark hair. Light and cold, they kiss my skin. I can feel the cold, but it can’t touch the heat of him inside me. Thick and pulsing. I think if he moves one more inch, I'm gonna come. “What is it about me that brings out your inner Elsa?”

  His lips twitch even as his eyes darken, like a winter storm forming behind foggy glass. “You appeal to my magic as much as you appeal to me. I think it's trying to show off.” We both contemplate a flake that catches on the edge of my nipple. “I can't seem to control it.”

  “I don't want controlled from you. Not tonight.”

  “You sure about that?” His gaze never leaves that sparkling bit of ice against my skin.

  “God, yes.”

  His head lowers and his hips shift, making me gasp and dig my nails into his skin as he sinks deeper.

  “Fuck,” I manage to whimper, right before his warm mouth brushes that hardened bit of flesh, sending such a tingling burst of ecstasy through my body I have to bite my lips to keep from screaming.

  Then he’s sucking my nipple and moving his hips at the same time, and now I can’t scream, because it’s too much. Much too much and not nearly enough. My heels slam into the hard curves of his ass as I arch, forcing him deeper.

  Jacks stops and lifts his head, watching me with narrowed eyes, his lips parted, still hovering above my breast. I can feel each hot exhalation. I want his mouth back doing what it was, but I want his cock more. I can’t believe I’ve lived without this for almost ten fucking years.