Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (13 page)

“Five, six, seven. Let’s shake those booties, ladies,” Dolores screamed as hip-hop blasted from the speakers. She loved loud music and flashy lights. Part of the sexy experience, she always said.

Before the first song was over, Jack was at the door, trying to open it. Elle could pinpoint with maddening accuracy the second it dawned on him that it was locked because his icy-cold eyes flashed with fury.

She turned to him and with an I-told-you-so smile, waved at him. She would have thrown an air-kiss his way, but she wasn’t sure the glass door would hold if he rammed it, so she refrained.

Dolores was a stickler for punctuality—a fact that had landed Elle in trouble many times—and hated people coming late or interrupting, so she ignored Jack, which suited Elle just fine.

Through the glass she watched as he reached for his pocket and took one of those antacids he seemed to gobble nonstop. He might have looked tense before, but now it was much worse. The vein at his temple was about to burst and he was grinding his teeth.

Screw him. His fault.

For a whole hour, Jack stood in front of the glass walls, his arms crossed, his eyes spitting fire while Elle did her damnedest to make him pay.

He was sweating more than she was, especially when she did the floor movements. She could swear his muscles had increased in size, his silhouette big and ominous. The few men who dared to brave Jack’s threatening demeanor didn’t even get close enough to see too much. Jack made sure of it.

Once the class was over and the girls started marching out, she expected Jack to rush inside but he didn’t. He waited for her, immobile, his expression inscrutable.

She walked past him, trying to hide her smug expression, but failed miserably. “I saw you at the door. Would you have wanted to join us after all?”

He remained quiet, but it cost him a hell of a lot, she could tell. His knuckles were white, his jaw about to split.

They walked to the truck in silence. The engine roared to life.

“Don’t you fucking ever lock a door on me.”

She lifted her eyebrow, dying to tell him he was dreaming, but she refrained and went back to fiddling with the radio.

* * * *

“Can I tempt you? I make a mean mojito and you look like you need one,” Paige said, the bottle of white rum in her hands.

Jack didn’t need a mojito; he needed a whole bunch of them, but he shook his head. He’d seen the results of Paige’s mojitos many times. Besides, he was still supposed to drive. Elle had some sort of unplug session or low-key jam or whatever the fuck she’d called it after working at Rosita’s.

If this was what Elle understood by keeping things to a minimum, he didn’t dare speculate what her normal day was like. Crazy running from one place to another until she crumpled exhausted into bed, he bet.

Not that she wasn’t enjoying putting him through the wringer, because she so obviously was. Like the twerking shit this morning. Man, oh man, that had been fucking torture.

“Hard day?” Paige asked with a smirk. “Wednesday is twerking day.”

She was trying not to laugh.

“If it is any consolation, she goes out of her way to bug you. Most guys only get indifference. Or mild interest at best. You must be doing something right.”

How sick was it that Paige’s statement felt good?

It was past twelve and the last customer had left five minutes ago, so when the front door opened, Jack turned immediately.

In came an almost seven-foot, two-hundred-fifty-pound Japanese American guy with Yakuza-looking tattoos coming out of the T-shirt collar and peeking from the leather jacket sleeve.

Kai.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asked in a growl.

“Came for Elle. Is she around?”

“She went upstairs to get ready,” Paige offered.

“Right. I’ll wait.”

Fantastic; this day couldn’t get better.

Kai and Jack went back a long way, but there was no love lost between them. They had their brushes when both had been young and stupid and Kai was doing something much more dangerous than tattooing people. And far more illegal.

He admired how Kai had managed to change his life and extricate himself from his family, but that didn’t mean he liked Kai. He didn’t. And that he had had some kind of relationship with Elle, or maybe still had, didn’t help matters in the slightest.

Paige noticed the tension in the air and without even trying to make small talk, she got busy clearing the counter. Clever girl.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Elle came from the back looking like Jack’s wet dream come true except for those annoying braids running along her scalp, now up on a bun. One a.m. and dressed to kill with some sort of vintage dress that gave her a pinup vibe. As if staring at her in her sexy-as-fuck Rosita’s uniform hadn’t been bad enough. Or the twerking shit he’d been forced to endure, with Elle clad in tight, barely there shorts. Although by now anything on her made his cock hurt.

“Hi, Kai,” she said walking straight to him and hugging him. “What are you doing here? Weren’t we meeting at the club?”

“Hello, beautiful. I thought I’d pass by to pick you up.”

“Oh, great. Let’s go then.” She turned to Jack and whispered, “You see? Beautiful, not pet. Beautiful. That’s how you treat a woman.”

“I heard, pet,” he answered curtly.

Kai motioned toward Jack. “I didn’t know you already had a date.”

“Him, you mean? Not a date.”

He hated the camaraderie between Kai and Elle. Totally fucking hated it.

“You in trouble of some kind?” Kai asked, looking at him and then at Elle. The motherfucker had always been very perceptive.

“We hooked up,” Jack stated, taking her by her neck and silencing her with a kiss he’d been dying to give to her for the whole day. Once he released her mouth, he stared at her, daring Elle to deny his statement.

“Such a joker my Borg,” she said, patting his cheek harder than necessary. “You don’t like parties. You could stay and I go with Kai. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe with him.”

“I don’t think so,” he answered. “Let’s get moving.”

The faster they got there, the faster it would be over.

Elle pursed her lips but addressed Paige, “Can you take care of closing up?”

“Sure. Go have fun.”

“Great,” Elle said heading to the door.

She was breathtaking from the front. From the back she was even better, the dress hugging all her curves. Fuck, she had a great ass, and fuck, she knew how to move it. Just the right amount of sashay to look classy and sexy. Jack was an ass man through and through. Unfortunately, so was Kai, who was glancing at it appreciatively.

Elle reached the door and held it open. “Gentlemen.”

Jack grabbed the coat from her arm and wrapped it around her. “Go,” he ordered, holding the door himself.

“Cute hairdo,” Kai complimented her on their way to the car.

Elle turned to Jack, her eyebrows lifted, a conceited expression on her face. “Isn’t it? I thought so too.”

“I’m parked there,” Kai said, pointing to the right. “See you at the club.”

“I can ride with Kai,” Elle said to Jack. “He doesn’t mind me fiddling with his radio.”

“Get in, pet,” he growled, unlocking the doors with the remote. He didn’t want her fiddling with anything of Kai’s. Not a single thing. Not even the damn radio.

Jack gritted his teeth and kept quiet during the ride.

When they made it to the bar, the parking lot was full. Not good.

After entering the establishment, his fears were confirmed. The place was packed. As in to the brim with rockabillies.

“This is what you understand by low-key?” he demanded, holding her by the arm. “We’re going home.”

For the first time today, Elle looked panicked. “Jack, this is important to me. My brother Jonah loved this band. I haven’t missed one of their jam sessions for two years. I can’t start now.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He could deal with sassy and belligerent Elle without batting an eyelash. But vulnerable Elle he was not ready to handle. It tugged at the wrong part of his body. At his heart.

If he’d learned anything in the last fifteen years in the field, it was that thinking with his cock would get him killed. Thinking with his heart would get him killed even faster.

“Half an hour,” he grumbled against his better judgment. Crowded, enclosed spaces like this one were a security nightmare.

Once they hit the main floor, he had to reassess his first impression; it wasn’t a security nightmare but an all-around clusterfuck that, judging by the level of alcohol flowing around, had been going on for a while.

Elle shrugged off her coat and he realized that some shiny white inscriptions and flowing lines had appeared on her body. Fuck him, she had UV tattoos, the ones that only were visible under black light. Fantastic, like she wasn’t visible enough.

“Elle!” someone from a big group sitting at the counter yelled, waving at them. Kai was already there.

It took a while to get to them, because she seemed to know everyone.

“Hi, guys,” she greeted when they reached them.

Jack got introduced to a bunch of people as Borg and then Elle proceeded to ignore him.

“Going to dance,” she said, leaving her beer on the counter.

He watched at the crowded dance floor. “No dancing, pet.”

He knew the second he said it that it was a mistake. Right on the money. She smiled at him deviously and sashayed to the dance floor.

Fuming, he watched Elle dancing. Watched as all the men around were eating her with their eyes. And who could blame them? She was so fucking sexy, those white inscriptions and lines on her legs playing off her dark dress, seeming to flow as she moved.

Then the music changed to a slow song and Kai approached her. Fuck no.

“Step aside,” Jack found himself growling.

Kai lifted his hands and let out an amused smirk, stepping back while Jack took her in his arms, holding her harder than need be.

“I thought you said no dancing.”

He loomed over her and fought to get the words out from between his clenched teeth. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you want me to kill every man in this place?”

“Why would you?”

“Because all of them are looking at you and fantasizing about fucking you.”

“And? What is it to you? You walked away from me yesterday, remember?”

Before he could assess the wisdom of speaking the truth, he blurted it. “I find it fucking difficult not to think of you as mine.”

Surprise left her speechless for a second, but then her expression twisted in anger. “Start learning then, buddy, because I am not yours and it was your choice. Live with it. Besides, if fucking from behind is all you can offer, any woman will do. We are all alike from the back. I told you I’m sorry you’re stuck with me and this is such a burden you can’t even look at me, but—”

He grabbed her by the arms, their noses almost touching, and growled low. “You think I can’t even look at you? I want you so fucking badly I can’t even breathe.”

She faced off with him, going on her tiptoes. “Well, I hope your ninja training includes holding your breath for long periods. Or let me ask at the counter, they might have an iron lung somewhere. Either way you said your dick is not in charge here, so order it back to its cave and don’t waste my time.” And wrenching away from him, she took a step back.

“You dancing, doll?” a guy that had been eying Elle asked.

She turned to Jack. “Doll. Not pet. Doll.” Then she smiled at that mofo and answered, “Sure, I’d love to.”

That was it. That belligerent Elle he could deal with without remorse.

He yanked her away from that asshole and threw her over his shoulder. The crowd might have thought it was staged because they started to cheer.

“Jack! What are you doing?” she screamed, fighting to get free.

He gripped her even harder. “Quiet, pet.”

“Let me go,” Elle yelled, hitting his ass. She tried to incorporate herself so he dipped her even lower.
“Bastardo! Lasciami andare!”

She could call him whatever she wanted. Curse and scream and thrash. He was not letting her go.

He marched to the truck and put her down, trapping her between the door and him. She was spitting mad, those gorgeous black eyes of hers flashing fire.

Her breathing was labored, her chest falling and rising rapidly over her wide neckline. She was magnificent.

For a couple of seconds they were both silent, staring at each other.

Her voice was deceptively low and it trembled with fury. “Do not presume you can manhandle me because you got inside me. That doesn’t give you any rights.”

“Wrong, pet. It does. You’re mine. This is mine,” he growled, cupping her pussy with one hand while holding her neck with the other, forcing them face-to-face, breathing into each other’s mouths.

It was a risky move; he wouldn’t put it past her to bite him, but she didn’t.

“Sorry, Borg. Pussy is not a detachable body part. It comes along with the smart-ass tongue and the snarky attitude. Oh and this face, the one you can’t stand to watch, remember? It’s a package one takes or leaves. It was your choice to leave it.”

He cut her off, kissing her ravenously. Then he fisted her bun and locked eyes with her. “Look at me. I know it’s a package. And I’m taking it. I tried to stay away from you. I tried to make this easier.” Now it was too late. He couldn’t help himself. He was going to give into it and the hell with the consequences. “You kept pushing and pushing. Taunting me. Now you got my full attention.” He lifted her, rested her back against the truck and worked his way in between her legs, bunching her dress up.

“I do not want your attention anymore,” she said, but she was holding him tight.

“Too bad, pet, because you’re getting it.” He shoved his hand under her panties. “And you do want it. You’re already wet for me.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t answer anything. She was furious and excited, he could tell, and he was so far gone that if she turned him down now his cock was going to fall into pieces. But she didn’t reject him. She took his mouth as hard as he always did hers. Harder.

The kiss got fucking hot, fucking fast. Like everything with her.