by Joya Ryan
“Who I trust is my decision,” I said, and put the contents of the salad in the bowl, grabbed my purse and keys, and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to have dinner?”
I looked at my best friend. “I’m not that hungry anymore. And I’m not losing my mind or making things up. Yes, Brock being back has affected me.” When all the other elements were peeled away, the truth was clear. “I don’t feel safe,” I admitted. “Except when I’m with Jack.”
“I want you to feel safe, too. I’m not trying to push you away,” she said softly with hurt behind her eyes.
“I know. But that is what you’re doing by not taking me seriously.”
~
After drinking my dinner at the little café two blocks down, I walked back to my house with a belly full of vodka and orange juice and tried to sort out what was going on in my world.
Everything felt like there was an underlying scheme. Like my father and his interest in Jack and me. Harper wasn’t acting herself, and while Jack and I had made progress, there was so much more to come if this was to be a relationship of growth.
“Plus, I may be going crazy.”
Maybe Harper was right and I was being paranoid because Brock was just closer than usual. I walked up to the house, which was dark. Harper’s car was gone. I felt terrible, walking out like that. She must have left for Aspen, and I hadn’t said goodbye. I had reached my max on hearing the reasons I was struggling, failing, and naïve. I dug my keys out of my purse and stopped when I saw my car.
“Oh, my God…” I looked for a long moment, making sure it wasn’t my vision wavering, but what I was seeing was real: All four of my tires had been slashed.
So much for thinking this was just my imagination. Which meant, if this was happening, someone had been in my house. And inside my car last week.
I looked around, feeling very exposed on a dark street. I felt violated. Worse, I didn’t know who was behind it this time.
~
“Hey,” Jack said, opening the door to his house. While he was still dressed in semi-casual business attire, he was in bare feet. It was a good look for him. “You must have read my mind, because I was just finishing up some business and was going to call you.”
I forced a smile the best I could. I didn’t want to go into details about tonight until I was sure who was behind this mind fuck. So, I’d taken a cab to Jack’s.
“I hate to invite myself, but do you mind if I stay with you this weekend?”
“I’d like nothing more than that.”
He let me in, and I picked up the small bag I’d packed. He raised a brow. “Prepared, I see.”
I felt embarrassed. I wasn’t trying to be a pushy girlfriend, I just couldn’t step foot in my home. I’d literally sprinted through the house to gather a few things, then waited for the cab outside. And I couldn’t handle this idea of someone lurking in the shadows. I needed evidence about who it was. So many times before, I’d been questioned. My gut told me maybe Brock had found out about my father trying to hire me and he was behind this.
I needed Brock gone.
“Lana,” he cupped my face and looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
I blinked away the scary thoughts. “Just a tough week.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. His hands skating from my neck to my shoulders. “You’re tense.” He looked over my body. “Something happened. What?”
I shook my head quickly. There was no easy way to explain without explaining everything. And I didn’t want to get into that tonight.
“Just a stressful week. Edith found out about us and was giving me a hard time. Then some asshole slashed my tires.” There, truth. Just not what was the key to my tension.
“What? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It happened tonight. I’ll get new tires tomorrow; I just didn’t want to stay there.”
“Of course. Do you know who would do that, or do you think this is just random?” He took my bag and then my hand, and led me upstairs.
“I honestly don’t know.” Not the whole truth, but the closet I’d ever come to lying to Jack. I was sure someone was behind all these little taunts. But that wasn’t a clean story to dive into. More questions would arise, and I’d have to think about how to answer them. Questions like: why do you think Brock would do this? Yeah, not a question I wanted to answer. “Is it okay if I just want to escape for a while?”
“That can be arranged.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He glanced at me as we walked into the master bathroom. “I have some ideas.”
Turning on the bath, hot water filled up the claw-foot tub and steam rose.
Jack slowly took my clothes off, until I stood before him naked. He helped me into the warm water, and I laid back.
“You’re not joining me?”
He knelt and rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up. “This is for you to relax.”
Threading his fingers through my hair, he combed the locks up into a pile on my head and fastened it with the band I had on my wrist. The feel of his fingers along my scalp, brushing my hair away from my face, was soothing. Then, he reached into the tub and got a massive sponge and put soap on it. His soap. I loved the spicy smell.
“Sit up,” he said, and I did. He ran the sponge down my back, washing away the tension, seeming content to just see to me. It was a nice feeling…being taken care of.
I hugged my knees to my chest, and he continued to massage my back and shoulders. I looked at him.
“Do you ever wish you could control life? Turn back time and make things go how you want them to go?”
“Every day.” He focused on his task and said, “But, things happen that we can’t control. No sense in dwelling on that part. Simply take control of what you can now.”
If that didn’t show the kind of man Jack was, nothing did. It made sense now. His mother’s death, his father’s treatment of him, all of it happened out of Jack’s control. Which is why he looked for ways to control his world now.
“Is that why you have hardwood floors throughout the house? Because of your mother?”
A small smile tugged his mouth. “The sound makes me think of good memories, before everything went to hell. It’s amazing how one moment can change your entire world and course of fate.”
“I understand what you mean.” For Jack it was his mother’s death. For me, it was the night Brock snuck into my room.
“Will you tell me about the squeaking door?”
He glared at the water, watching it run down my back, and continued to sponge my skin.
“All the doors in my father’s house squeaked to high hell. When he stumbled through them, drunk usually, I knew what was coming.”
“He hurt you.” I didn’t ask, rather stated.
“Usually, I was just in the way. But a few times, it got bad. I was eleven the first time I tried to defend myself, and he choked me until I passed out.”
“Oh, my God.” I grabbed his free hand.
“That was when I really understood that my own life was in someone else’s hands, and I hated it. He thought he’d killed me. When I came to, he hugged me. Cried. Swore he’d never hurt me again. It was the one time I believed he gave a shit,” Jack scoffed. “But his promise didn’t last long.”
Tears danced along my eyes, and I unwove his fingers from mine, skimming them along my lower lashes. “Don’t cry for me. I don’t want it and I don’t need it. I’m telling you this because you asked, and because I trust you.”
That made me want to cry for a different reason. Jack was so strong and intense. It made sense how growing up in that situation causes confusion and guilt and anguish. He couldn’t control what happened to him any more than I could. Yet, somehow, we’d found solace in each other.
“I’m sorry for what you went through,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry for what you went through too, baby.”
“It’s getting better,” I said with a soft smile. “You make it better.”
“I’m glad. I just…worry.”
I was hearing that word a lot lately. Coming from him, it made my chest hurt.
“What do you worry about?”
“You,” he said. “If I’m what’s best for you.”
“You are.”
He grinned and ran his thumb along my lower lip. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Not always.”
I sat up further, leaning over the side of the tub to face him. “Why? I know there’s a lot to work through. I know there are details and pasts that we both have that we haven’t shared. But I want to get there. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of worrying, and I’m tired of you worrying. I just want to be happy. With you.”
The truth rushed my brain. I couldn’t really let go and be happy while being so close to Brock. I wouldn’t run, but he needed to go. Because Jack was what I wanted. A future where I had pride and wasn’t scared of who was haunting me was what I wanted.
“There’s so much between us. Said and unsaid. But can you just believe me when I tell you that I…”
He frowned. “You what?”
With a heavy breath, I said the one truth I could, “I love you.”
His face flashed with shock. I’d never seen Jack so caught off guard. But then sadness washed over him.
“You shouldn’t.”
My ribs tightened. “Well, I do.” I rose to my knees to meet him face on. “I love you. And you can’t tell me otherwise this time. Do you understand me?”
Something dark unleashed behind those smoky eyes, and he kissed me hard. My wet breasts rubbed against this crisp white shirt and tingles pricked over my skin. He devoured me, drinking me in with hard, deep swipes of his tongue.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my entire body against his. He maneuvered me back into the massive tub, not caring that he was fully clothed.
“Say it again,” he growled against my mouth.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Reclining against the tub with Jack on top of me, he wedge himself between my thighs and ate up my skin like he would an ice cream cone, licking and sucking from my neck to my breasts. Plucking my nipples with his teeth, then suckling them like a starving man.
There was something so hot about him being clothed, sopping wet in the tub with me while I writhed naked beneath him.
Reaching between us, I unclasped his pants and shoved them down enough for his hard cock to spring free, which was difficult because the wet material didn’t cooperate well. But his white shirt was see-through now, sticking to every hard ridge and muscle of his stomach and chest.
“Make love to me,” I begged, and twisted my hips so that his cock nudged my entrance.
“I want to, baby,” he sucked my breasts, pulling so much flesh into his mouth that I couldn’t breathe, the pleasure was so intense. “Let’s get out and I will.”
“Please.” I pulled him close, terrified of losing this connection. This moment. “Please, just take me.”
“I can’t. I don’t have a condom.”
I cupped his face and met his eyes. “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”
His brows sliced down, taking in my words and pondering them for a moment.
“I haven’t been with anyone but you since I was checked last, and I’m clean too.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He wrapped one arm around me, and the other held the edge of the tub by my head. “You sure?”
“Yes. So sure.”
He look at my face, into the depths of my soul, and thrust inside of me.
My eyes widened and Jack watch every expression I gave as he retreated, then thrust again.
“Lana…” he said my name with awe and pleasure that made me want to burst from the tenderness of it.
Long, slow, and hard was the pace he kept as he penetrated me over and over. His wet clothing scraped against my skin. He kept his eyes on me as he buried himself, each time deeper than the last. I clung to him. The water sloshed around us, tickling my skin as he took me with every ounce of power he had.
He growled with frustration because his pants were restricting his movement. I used my feet to push them down, and finally off his legs. He reached back and threw them out of the tub.
I whispered his name and sat up. He let me. He didn’t seem pleased leaving my body, but once I had him sitting, I straddled his lap. His cock bobbed between us. I rocked my hips, sliding my clit along his length, but never penetrating. The fire of pleasure crackled further.
“You’re teasing me again,” he rasped, and cupped my waist. I continued my foray of his body. Using it to tease us both a little as I removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor.
“I don’t want to take your control,” I said. “That’s why I’m asking if you’ll allow me to have you.”
His expression was fierce and soft as the same time. With his face at my breasts, he looked up at me.
“Yes,” he said.
I reached down and gripped his cock. I’d never had this much control before. I was the one who took over, who would join our bodies and set the pace. And he let me.
I positioned him at my entrance, then sank down, slowly. The feel of him, all of him, was incredible. There were no barriers between us. Just our world, there inside a tub, surrounded only by hot water and each other’s skin.
“You’re perfect,” he said, kissing my breasts like he would my mouth. He tasted my skin, and his hands explored, as if trying to feel every inch of me while I slowly rose, then sank down again.
I could tell he was fighting the urge to hug me tight, pull me close and take over, but he let me lead. Trusted me enough to let go of a little of his control.
I took him as far as I could. All the way to the hilt and stopped there. He cupped my neck and rained kisses over my mouth, my face, and my breasts. I’d never felt so…
Loved.
He didn’t say it. But the way he held me, was like he was silently worshiping my body, my whole being, and it brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t want to rise up and pull away. I wanted to stay right there, with him deep.
So, that’s what I did. I rocked back and forth, slowly circling my hips in his lap, but refusing to pull away. He hit every nerve ending deep inside, and I clung to him as I grinded harder. Wanting more.
“Baby, I’m there.”
“Me too.”
Fire built low in my belly, and I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head as my release took me over, my body gently shaking and convulsing.
He hugged me back, wrapping me up in those strong arms, his mouth at my breast as he trembled with his own release. I felt him, hot and strong, coming inside me. It was so powerful, it made my already sensitive body light up with another round of tremors.
Jack seemed to have felt it, because he sucked my nipple deeper, eating at my skin until there was not even a breath of space between us.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere I wanted to go. Because right there, in Jack’s arms, was the only world I wanted to be a part of.
Chapter Nineteen
A low buzzing noise woke me from my sleep. A wonderful sleep spent in Jack’s arms. I slowly got up, careful not to wake him. My phone was going nuts on the bedside table. It was seven in the morning on Saturday, and already I had nine missed calls and several texts. One from Harper, letting me know she made it to Aspen, the rest from my father.
Putting on my shirt and pants, I walked downstairs, leaving Jack sleeping in bed, and called my father back.
“There you are!” he said, with happiness in his voice.
“What is it? Is there an emergency?”
“No, not really…” he did that sigh thing I was starting to hate so much. “I drove by your place last night and saw your car out front.”
“Really?” That awful feeling I’d been having? Just doubled. My fa
ther never sought me out like this. Much less randomly drove by my house. This seemed convenient. Too convenient. But would my father stoop to this kind of level? I’d expect creepy behavior like this from Brock, but my dad?
The world felt like it was spinning faster, and I couldn’t gain footing. Playing on my fear would be a new low for my dad, but just the fact that I questioned him, thought of him as a foe before a friend, broke a final piece of my heart and hope that things could ever be different between us.
“Yes, everything okay? Do you need some new tires?” he asked.
“You’re offering to buy me tires?”
“I worry about you.”
That was the last thing I wanted to hear from him. He hadn’t worried when I needed him to. This was all a ploy.
I was making headway with Jack, at least, I thought so. Sure, he hadn’t said he loved me back, but I was determined to continue to move forward. I needed to handle my life to prove to myself that fear would not dictate my world.
I couldn’t deal with my dad, and I couldn’t be in the same city as Brock. Maybe I was being paranoid about my father possibly having a hand in this, but I’d never wished for anything as hard in my life as I did in that moment: Please just let Brock go back to New York.
“Funny, you stop by my house the night my tires are slashed.”
“Lana, I need to be honest with you.”
“By all means,” I said sarcastically.
“It’s Brock. There’s something not right about him. I told him about the plan for you to bring in Powell—”
“I agreed to no such thing.”
“—and he’s been acting strange ever since. I thought he’d like to go back to New York. Maybe it’s best that way.”
“I’d like for him to go back to New York too.” Further, if it were possible. “But, what are you saying? You think Brock is the one who slashed my tires?”
“I think Brock is capable of a lot of things,” he said lowly. “But I can’t get him out of here until the Denver branch is secure. I need a new client, Pumpkin. Believe me, I want him gone as much as you.”
“Then do that. You’re the boss.”
He scoffed, and we both knew that the real boss was his wife. “Most of the big fish we need around here are already taken, and we aren’t big enough to get their attention, let alone sway them to our firm. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. Please. I don’t want Brock near you any more than you do.”
