End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) (38 page)

She grimaced.

“Get up front. I’m sitting back here with my
ex-maid
.”

Kelly seemed to dismiss the edge of anger to his words, but Jessica did not.

“Everyone ready?” Gabe asked as soon as Kelly closed her door.

With a unison of yes, they were off to Long Beach.

Kelly dominated the conversation with her pre and post triathlon meal plans for everyone, the map of the course, check-in times, and basically everything else from the website as if she were the only one in the group who could read.

Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket and focused on the screen. Jessica drummed her fingers on the arm rest, stealing an occasional sideways glance. Those hands that held his phone and fingers that slid over the screen were the same ones that cupped her breast, brushed over her nipple, and slipped between her legs. She adjusted in her seat, feeling warm and tingly.

Her phone vibrated. Slipping it out of her bag she smiled.

Jones:
Hi.

Jessica:
Hi.

She rolled her eyes to the side, but his face remained stoic as if he were messaging someone a million miles away.

Jones:
I’ve missed you.

Her heart galloped.

Jessica:
Missed you too.

Jones:
Did you lose my number?

She stared at the screen.

Jessica:
Just my nerve.

Jones:
Because of the bag?

Jessica:
Yes.

Jones:
I miss your lips.

She shifted again in her seat. How he sat there like a statue was beyond comprehension.

Jessica:
They miss you.

Jones:
Why no bra today?

She dipped her chin. Her hard nipples were molded in twin peaks against her grey tank top. Tossing any sort of discreetness out the window, she turned and stared at him, silently demanding him to look at her. But he didn’t. He showed absolutely no outward signs that they were having any sort of interaction.

Jessica:
I’m against suppression.

Jones:
It’s distracting.

Jessica:
So are your socks. How did you end up wearing two right ones today?

Jones:
They’re crew socks. There is no right and left. They’re ambidextrous.

Jessica:
If I wouldn’t have cried in the shower, how many times would we have had sex by now?

She stared at her bold words, letting her finger hover over the send button. She had to know, so she let her thumb tap the screen. Then she waited, but within seconds there was a return message.

Jones:
More than you can count.

Gulp.

Jessica:
Fuck me …

Somehow her fingers typed what her brain was thinking, not what she really meant to say.

Jones:
When and where?

She turned to him again. Nothing. Not one look. Not one flinch.

For a brief moment she wondered if she had the right “Jones.” What if he lost his phone and got another one with a new number? What if she was having this conversation with a sick and twisted stranger? Even worse … what if she wasn’t?

Jessica:
Ever had sex in the restroom of a restaurant?

Jones:
What do you think?

That’s just it, she didn’t know what to think. Before that day she would have said no. But when her orderly, completely irresistibly sexy, mindfuck of a friend answered “when and where?” to her fuck-me comment—all bets were off.

Jessica:
I think if the restaurant where Kelly has planned for us to stop for lunch has a restroom door with a lock on it we …

“Are we stopping for lunch soon? I’m
starving
,” Luke called up to Gabe and Kelly.

No need for foreplay. That was it. The heavy ache between her legs grew with such intensity from his voice—his words—she feared just getting out of the vehicle would detonate her impending orgasm. The more she thought about it the more certain she was that she’d never make it. The feeling was ten times worse than a full bladder on a bumpy road. Her pulse was nonexistent in her chest; every beat was at her sex. How would she explain going weak in the knees in the middle of a parking lot from an orgasm?

“There’s road construction so we’re going to detour. I’ll have to look for a different stop, so it might not be for another hour or two. The bag on the floor between you two has some snacks in it,” Kelly said.

Jessica salivated like a dog. Her entire body was in zero hour meltdown. If it were a bladder issue she could request they pullover and let her squat in the ditch. But how could she ask them to pull over and step out of the car while she had emergency sex with Luke?

Luke:
wet your finger

She squinted her eyes at his text. What did he mean?

Brushing her finger over her lip, her tongue darted out to wet it.

Luke:
lower

His all-consuming eyes finally met hers, sucking her into his sensual vortex. All of her senses sprang to life: the brush of her cotton shirt along her nipples, the salty taste from her own finger that was destined to slide between her own legs, and the sudden rush of Channel No. 69 that infiltrated her nose like a drug.

Under his manipulative trance, controlled only by his eyes, she pulled up her cotton skirt and slid her finger under the crotch of her panties, being careful to not touch her painfully sensitive clitoris. One wrong move and she would have exploded. A single swipe and her finger was drenched.

Luke bent down. With one hand he ruffled the snack bag and with his other hand he clasped Jessica’s wrist. Keeping his head ducked behind the front seats he brought her wet finger to his lips and slid it into his mouth. It was a modest gesture with a monstrous effect.

Jessica panted through it … fighting for control and dying to release soft moans of pleasure. He pulled her finger from his mouth and circled the tip of his tongue along the pad of it and It. Was. Over.

She squeezed her legs together, dropped her chin to her chest letting her hair fall like a curtain over her face. Then she bit her lips and closed her eyes as an orgasm pulsed in rippling waves along her sex, clear to her toes curling them in her flip-flops.

How did he do that? Some guys could fondle a woman’s body for hours and—nothing. Luke texted
where and when
,
wet your finger
, then sucked said finger for less than ten seconds. Bang!

With his hand in the bag he went ahead and retrieved an apple before releasing Jessica’s wrist and sitting up straight again.

“Those are so good.” Kelly looked back at the apple in Luke’s hand.

“Mmm … yeah, my mouth is already watering.” He took a big bite with a smirk on his face, eyes on Jessica.

She narrowed her eyes. Cocky wasn’t becoming of him. Well, maybe it was.

*

The restaurant bathroom
did not have a locking door. Just as well. Luke wasn’t entirely certain how he and Jessica’s first time would play out. The close call in the shower at his parents’ was the weakest moment he’d experienced in years, a real diving-into-the-shark-tank move. He had been ready to bleed again if it meant being with her, until she cried and his selfishness hit him in the chest like a wrecking ball. How could he have lost sight of the regret she would feel?

Gabe let Kelly and Jessica off at the hotel entrance while he and Luke looked for a parking spot.

“So who’s the girl?” Gabe asked.

Luke glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “What girl?”

“Our parents had dinner the other night. I heard you took a girl home for the weekend.”

Luke nodded. “I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

Gabe laughed. “That’s not how your parents described it.”

“What did they say?”

“They said she’s
the one
.”

Of course they thought that, whether it was true or not. She was the girl you hate to love and love to hate; either way she was nothing short of an addiction. He was out of control with her and desperate without her.

“So who is she?”

Such a simple question.

“A friend of a friend.”

“Really? I know most of your friends. Maybe I know her.” Gabe pulled into a parking spot.

That seemed one hundred percent probable.

Luke got out and slipped on his sunglasses. Gabe shut the door and rested his hand on Luke’s shoulder. A shit-eating smirk not-so-elegantly graced his lips.

“I’m giving ya shit, man. God, it’s exhilarating for once to watch the great Dr. Jones squirm a bit. I know you took Jessica home and you have some serious explaining to do.”

“Does Kelly know?”

“Nope. She’d be pissed that Jessica hasn’t said anything.”

“How long have you known?”

“About a week.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now?”

“I assumed you’d tell me. You
were
going to tell me, right?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I don’t get it. We fixed you two up. Why the secrecy?”

Luke turned and started unloading their gear. “As I said, it’s complicated.”

“Listen, dumb ass, I have a PhD in physics. I can handle ‘complicated.’ You won’t even have to talk slow or use elementary vocabulary.”

Luke sighed. “It’s … it’s not that you won’t get it or understand. It’s that I can’t tell you everything.”

They weighted themselves down with bags and bikes. The car beeping when Gabe locked it was like a lightbulb going on in his head.

“Oh fuck! She’s your patient, isn’t she?”

The guy really was too smart for his own good.

Knight

D
ay two on
their journey back to Omaha went much better than the previous one. AJ ate the salty peanuts and diabetic Twizzlers then washed them down with bottled tap water.

“There’s a rest stop coming up. Want me to pull off?” AJ asked.

“Sure.”

There was only one other vehicle as they pulled to a stop. They stretched and hobbled a bit toward the bathrooms, legs stiff from so many hours on the road. AJ was already in the truck by the time Jillian came out.

She froze.

Two of the lights along the walk were burnt out, leaving her nearly blind to anything on either side. Someone was lurking in the distance. She closed her eyes so she could focus on the faint rustling of footsteps in the brush.

“I know you.”

The initial fear that clenched her heart was replaced with a killer’s rage the second she processed the voice.

“Your hair is different, but I’d recognize that body anywhere.”

The truck was twenty yards away. She could see the outline of AJ from the light of his phone screen. His chin was tilted toward his chest. Jillian needed to keep walking, but Jessica could not.

“You killed my friend. I know it was you. He wouldn’t have committed suicide.”

It was Jessica Day’s opportunity for closure. She could walk away and let him decide his fate, but the license plates on the truck would lead him to AJ’s family. Her identity could lead him to Omaha. Nobody wakes up and decides to be a killer, certainly not Jillian Knight, but Jessica Day was trained to defend herself and that training had made her a killer.

He laughed. It was the same sadistic laugh that filled Jessica’s ears as Four cut her friend, Claire.

“I think this is fate. Of all the rest stops in this goddamn big ass country, what are the chances of us reuniting here, tonight? What are the chances of your boyfriend over there saving you before I put a bullet in your head?”

He moved closer and she closed her eyes again, hoping AJ couldn’t see her in the shadows.

“I’d fuck your tight little ass first, but I don’t trust you. I saw the news. You died and I don’t trust ghosts.” He inched closer.

Knox had blindfolded her over and over, sharpening all her other senses and removing the humanly guilt that came from taking the last blink of life from a victim’s eyes.

It was too easy. All those years later, she remembered everything with exact precision. Two moves in less than five seconds later, he was disarmed and limp on the ground with a broken neck.

Her heart pounded as one lone tear trailed down her cheek. It wasn’t for him. It was for her—for Jillian. Jessica died a killer, but Jillian would have to live as one.

Taking a deep breath she balled her fists that were a bit shaky, opened her eyes without looking at the body even once, and walked to the truck.

AJ glanced up from his phone as she got in the driver’s side. “You okay?”

She started the truck and nodded.

“They need to replace some lights around here. It’s black as sin.”

Jillian didn’t acknowledge him. Some things were better left in the
sinful
dark.