JACKED (7 page)

Jack sat at his desk in his study and turned the small, velvet box end over end. The earrings had been an absurd gesture now that he thought about it. Who the hell celebrated a
one week
anniversary? When had he turned into such a romantic?

The earrings were sapphires, gems that matched the blue of Savannah’s eyes and also happened to be her birthstone. They’d gone for brunch that morning and he’d planned on giving them to her then. He imagined making sure she drank a few glasses of champagne before he presented them to her and after brunch they’d come home and spend the afternoon in bed.

His blood heated and he stifled a groan. The thought of leisurely lovemaking made his body harden. She sat cross-legged, across the room, in a pair of yoga pants and a sweater, studying a textbook for next semester. Yoga pants… she was trying to torture him.

But Savannah hardly spoke during the meal that morning and she turned down the waiter when he offered her a glass of champagne. Jack didn’t want to appear as though he was pushing her. She was still hurting. Maybe she expected him to apologize for telling Weston about her studies. Refusing to see her father’s behavior in a bad light she had nowhere else to set it other than squarely on his shoulders.

Rain fell softly and the occasional rumble of thunder shook the house. He still had another week off from work, and even though he and Savannah were barely speaking and certainly weren’t tearing up the sheets, he was happy to be home with her.

He turned back to his computer to look at resumes of pilots he wanted to hire. He still needed to hire two new CPAs. Not a bad problem to have and normally the company’s growth pleased him, but his mind wandered to places it shouldn’t.

The email with the link of the hospital waiting room tempted him. He could show Savannah how her father lied and manipulated everyone with the heart attack scare. Jack snorted. Weston Michaels, the son of a bitch would probably outlive them all.

At least Weston was devoted to Jack’s mother. He liked a pretty face and loved to flirt, but his eyes lit with a special look anytime Eleanor walked in the room.

He scrolled past the email from Theo and opened one from his secretary. She’d sent information about the hotel for sale in Aspen, the one built by the Montgomery’s architect. He looked at the pictures.

“Hey, Savannah,” he said. “Come tell me what you think of the hotel you found for us.”

She set aside her book and came to the desk.

“You want me to take you to go see it?”

A nervous smile tugged at her lips. She bit her lip. “I have to say, it’s been nice not flying for a few days. I get kind of anxious about it.”

“You need to drink more, sweetheart. If you have too much, I can carry you to the car.”

She shook her head. “I could be expecting.”

He stared at her. “Are you late?”

“No, but I’m still not planning on getting tipsy anytime soon.” She turned to the computer and scrolled through the pictures of the hotel. “Indoor heated pool. It looks really nice. If you wanted to go up there I would go with you. Are you planning on becoming a hotel tycoon?”

He smiled at her teasing tone. This was a lot better than the stilted conversation at brunch. Thunder cracked and she yelped and then covered her mouth with her hand. He took her hand and urged her closer, easing her down to his lap.

“Maybe you should sit down. A lady in your condition…”

She sat down, but her posture was stiff, her eyes wary like she expected him to pounce on her. He could feel her poised, ready to spring from his lap if he suddenly unleashed his lust upon her and damn if that didn’t sound good. He groaned and thought for the hundredth time how much Weston Michaels pissed him off. She drew back in response to his groan.

“Scared, little girl? Think that I’m going to ravish you?”

She shook her head and turned to his computer, taking the mouse in her hand. “I want to see some more pictures of this pretty hotel. It’s historic like the Montgomery. I like that. I would go with you if you want. I have a little counting trick I do when we land. It helps.”

He curled his hands into fists to keep from touching her. She shifted, leaning forward to read a caption. Her ass on his lap was exquisite torture. Her yoga pants hugged the curve of her ass.

“Jack, it has a spa and a library. My gosh, I love it. My sisters would go crazy here. Charlotte loves historic homes. She’d lose her mind to stay in a historic hotel.”

“That’s what I want. For our family to have a suite or an apartment and for everyone to use it. Your dad, my mom, your sisters. Maybe Thanksgiving in one place every year and Christmas in another.”

“If you’re on speaking terms with my father.”

“We’ll be talking. You’ll see. I’m pretty damn charming.” He let his hands settle on her waist. She flinched then relaxed again.

She scrolled through the gallery of pictures, pausing every so often to admire an image. “I’ve been thinking of how to ask you for something, Jack.”

He let his hands drift up her back and stroke her shoulders. Every evening she came to bed and settled next to him and slept there all night, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t touched her, but caressing her, having her sit on his lap, sent his need into overdrive.

“Don’t think.” His voice was rough from desire. “Just ask. Anything.”

“My father’s birthday is next week.”

He growled softly. “Okay. Want me to send flowers?”

“Very funny. He’s having a lunch downtown. Charlotte and Elizabeth are both in the middle of the semester and can’t make it. He asked if we would come.”

Weston wanted the two of them to come to a party? In public? That had to be some sort of miracle, or set up for a verbal assault. Jack tried to imagine sitting down at a table with friends and family. He could almost see their shocked faces when they found out about him and Savannah.

“Do you think he’s going to tell people about us?”

She nodded. “He already has. Nobody was too shocked about it so he’s…you know…cool about it, I guess. He wants to make amends.”

Jack scoffed. “I’ll bet.”

She turned to look at him. “I think he might. I’m not sure, but I thought it was a good sign. Thanksgiving is in two weeks and I’d hoped that we’d have this behind us.”

The yearning on her face made something inside him shift. He wanted her happy and if he needed to bite his tongue and go to birthday parties or whatever, then that’s what he would do.

“I’d be happy to go, baby,” he said.

Her face lit with happiness and he couldn’t help but smile.

“My dad wanted me to ask if you’ve received any military honors.”

He frowned at the abrupt change in conversation. “What?”

“You know, medals or whatever. He called and asked me. He was super sweet about it. I was surprised too. I think he just wants to know you better.”

Jack almost laughed but didn’t. Something wasn’t adding up. Weston probably wanted to have something to brag about when he introduced him to others.

“And this is Jack Marshall, my son-in-law. Did you know he received the Distinguished Flying Cross?”

“The Marines are notoriously stingy when it comes to giving out medals.”

“So you didn’t get any?”

“I did. I was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. Twice.”

He didn’t think about awards or medals anymore. That world seemed so far away. He recalled the way other pilots regarded him after he got the first one. It was considered rare to get one and when the Marines awarded him the second medal, he became somewhat of a celebrity on the base. After that he never paid for another drink, and other soldiers, strangers he’d never met, would stop him and congratulate him.

“Thanks, I can’t imagine why he wants to know. Probably just curious.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure.”

“You don’t like him.” She held him in her gaze.

He shook his head. “I like your father, Savannah. We got off on the wrong foot, but we’ll get along fine. You’ll see.”

He stroked her hair, trailing it between his fingers. “When your mother died, your father had three little girls under the age of seven. He raised them all by himself. And he did a great job, an amazing job. Now your daddy wants to keep on making decisions for you, but that’s because…” He drew a deep breath before going on. “It’s because he loves you. If I had three daughters, I’d probably be worse. Far worse.”

She sighed and he could feel her relax, soften a little. “That’s nice. Thank you.”

Why she was thanking him he couldn’t understand, but he loved that she was there, near him and that they were finally talking.

“What’s this?” she asked turning, the velvet box in her hands. “Just married a week and you already have a mistress?”

Her gaze was sultry.

He shook his head. A mistress. As if he would chase other women. Ever. He wouldn’t and she had to know. Her look was pure sass and one day soon he was going to spank her till she begged for mercy. His cock, already rock hard, twitched in clear agreement.

Turning her on his lap, he lifted her chin. “A mistress?” he asked.

“No? My father told me you’re the supermodel type. That I better keep an eye on you.”

He clenched his jaw. Weston played dirty. He needed to keep that in mind. Savannah doubted him, that much was clear, and that would be something else he needed to keep in mind. For the moment all he could think about was the way her sweet ass felt. He’d take her to bed and love every inch of her and show her what sort of type he had. Just one.

“I only want you,” he said quietly. It wasn’t like him to have so much restraint. His temper was being sorely tested, but he wanted to take his wife to bed. Keep her there. And getting riled up wasn’t part of his plan.

“I bought this for you, Savannah. Today’s our one week anniversary. Open it.”

Immediately her eyes filled with dismay. “But I didn’t buy anything for you.”

“I just want to see you wearing my gift.”

She opened the box and a slow smile spread across her lips. “Earrings. Sapphires, Jack. They’re beautiful.”

“Your birthstone.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. She took them out of the box and put them on.

He took a lock of her hair and wound it around his finger. “I knew they’d look beautiful on you.”

“I’m sorry we had to leave Jackson early. I loved the cabin.”

Her voice was soft, conciliatory, and he had to steel himself against the urge to crush her against him. Her kiss. Her sweet body under him. She kindled savage need. Primitive urges twisted inside him and he felt his self-control slipping.

“We could go upstairs and pretend.”

A drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. “What do you want to pretend?”

“That we’re back in the cabin. Like a little do-over. Or a do-again.” She gave a breathless laugh, a slow bloom of pink spreading across her face. “Please don’t make me explain this, Jack.”

Lust burned through his veins, sparking heat and need. He set her on her feet, keeping her hand in his and led her from the study. Upstairs, he shut the door behind them and gently pushed her against the wall, caging her with a hand on each side.

“I think I do need you to explain to me. But first I want you naked. Everything off. If I undress you, I’ll tear it to shreds.”

An intensity she’d never seen before lit in his eyes. Her arousal flared, heat warming her body. Her skin prickled. Her breasts tightened. She needed his hands on her.

He lifted a brow. “Do it. Now.”

She nodded and stripped. Shedding her shirt and bra, then her jeans and panties. She kept her gaze averted. The storm outside still rumbled and the room was dim. At least she wasn’t taking off her clothes in broad daylight. Still, she felt vulnerable, standing naked, inches from him.

“We still going bareback?” His gaze wandered down the front of her body, leaving a trail of exquisite awareness in its wake.

Restless, needing his touch, she squirmed under his scrutiny. “What do you mean?”

“No condom? No nothing?”

She blushed.
Bareback…
The word sounded so wicked. Primitive. He kept his hands above her head. Was he going to keep her naked, pressed against the wall all afternoon?

“I would like that,” she said.

He nodded and took her to the bed. While she got under the blankets, she watched him undress.

His mouth curved into a smile. “Think you’re going to hide from me? I’m going to tear those sheets away from you.”

She made a face. His eyes darkened with promise. She could see he was forming some plan. He kept his eyes fixed upon her, pinned her down with a simple look. After he’d shed everything but his boxers, he went to his closet, returning a moment later with several ties.

She bit back a nervous laugh as he approached. His smile widened when she shook her head to say no, as if her refusal amused him.

“What do you say we start a little anniversary tradition?” he asked, his voice a sexy growl.

She huffed with indignation. “Who in the world celebrates a one
week
anniversary?”

“You and me.”

She tried to yank the covers over her head and escape whatever wicked idea he had in mind. But he was too fast and his arm looped around her waist. She laughed even though every nerve in her body was on high alert. He eased her down on her stomach and settled on top of her, nipping her shoulder.

His cock pressed against her backside. Wetness warmed her tender core. She was instantly slick, needing him inside her, but something told her that wasn’t happening for a little while. He was going to torment her first. Tease her. Punish her for some transgression.

He scattered kisses along her shoulder. Taking one arm and then the next he lifted them above her head. While his grip wasn’t painful, it was firm, and she knew it would be useless to struggle. He was dominating her completely. Her desire heightened. The tie tightened around both wrists and she found herself restrained, but not so tightly that he couldn’t roll her over, which he did.

She lay on her back. Panting.

He smirked. “Not scared are you?”

Oh, he was a beast. While she knew he wouldn’t want to hurt her, he wouldn’t mind causing her a little discomfort. And yet that wasn’t quite what she felt. Turned on was how she felt. She wanted to beg him to take her right then, to ask for it in the coarsest language.

“I’m not scared.”

He leaned over her. His eyes glittered. “No?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He closed his eyes and drew a breath. The air hissed from between his clenched teeth. When he opened them he took another tie and blind-folded her.

Her skin tingled with anticipation but the blindfold frightened her. She shook her head. “I don’t know about this.”

The bed dipped and his voice beside her ear drew a cry of surprise from her lips. “I’ll take it off if you ask nicely. And if you agree that you were a bad girl this week. Beg forgiveness.”

His words rankled. “Why was I bad girl? Because we didn’t have sex?”

“You were a bad girl because you came and draped your luscious body over me. And clung to me every night, making me almost lose my mind. It was misery. That’s why.”

She laughed softly. He made her feel wanted. Desired. “I’m not saying anything.”

“All right, baby. Up to you.”

His lips brushed hers and he kissed her. She moaned with pleasure. The restraints around her wrists kept her from wrapping her arms around him. She wanted to thread her fingers through his hair. Trace the span of his shoulders.

A sharp awareness of how much she needed his touch made her twist beneath him, seeking contact. The only place he touched her was her mouth, his lips to hers in a leisurely kiss. His tongue stroked hers. He delved past the seam of her lips angling to deepen the kiss, then broke the kiss.

At home, he didn’t shave every day and he wore several day’s growth on his jaw. The short beard abraded her skin. It burned. Her cheek felt raw, but she needed him back to kiss her more. Craved it. Why had she slept beside him all those nights without a single kiss?

Without his touch, she felt lost, bereft even. He shifted, returned with small biting kisses that trailed down her body. Trembling with need, she let him coax her thighs apart. When he licked her a jolt of pleasure shot through her.

Pulling against her restraints, she whimpered.

“Want me to untie you?”

“Yes, please.” She wanted to touch him. Not just touch him but to dig her fingers into his straining muscles.

“Say it.”

Her mind spun with confusion. “What should I say?”

He chuckled softly and resumed his sweet torment, but this time he teased her even more. He stroked his finger along her entrance while he sucked her clit. It was too much. Her ecstasy climbed, spiking until she arched beneath him gasping. She cried out his name as pleasure tore through her senses.

A tug at her blindfold drew her from her dream-like state. Jack pulled the tie away, climbed over her like some primitive beast and settled between her thighs.

“I like to hear you come, Savannah. I like to see your face and look in your eyes when I fuck you.”

He didn’t usually say things like that to her. Everything he did to her seemed dirtier and more intense, maybe because they hadn’t made love for days. His expression was fierce. Eyes fixed on her. Mouth pressed together in a grim line. He looked almost brutal.

With a hard thrust he entered her part way. She closed her eyes, lifted her hips to meet his savage love-making. While she was wet and ready and wanting him inside her, it still felt impossibly tight. His thick cock stretched her and on the next thrust she gave a soft, low moan.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she whispered.

His lips drew back in a snarl. “What else?”

Each stroke of his cock sent showers of pleasure across her senses. He’d just given her astonishing pleasure and now he was unraveling her once more.

“I
am
a bad girl,” she breathed. “Free me.”

He yanked her ties free, claiming her mouth with his. His thrusts grew deeper, harder. With her hands unbound, she wrapped her arms around him. She held him, clung and opened beneath him, offering herself, and when he gripped her hips, everything changed. Her pleasure stole her breath and shredded her reason. Ecstasy erupted. She writhed and sobbed as her release took her. He followed her over, a growl rumbling through his chest.

Gathering her close, he rolled to the side, muttering something about not wanting to crush her beneath him. She sank into the shelter of his arms. His ties lay scattered across the bed. Limbs entangled, thunder rolling through the house, they both fell into a deep sleep.