Weathering Jack Storm (Silver Strings G Series) (24 page)

In an instant, Jack was beside her informing her of the entry code. Upon punching it in, the door opened and new car aroma mingled into the excited breaths she sucked in.

“What are you waiting for? Get in...”

“I’m wet...” Her fingers went to the damp swimsuit.

“It’s fine. It will take a lot more than water to mess up the seats.”

Needing no more encouragement, she crouched, putting a leg in and then sitting and swinging the other in. Never, until Jack and Randi’s cars, had she been in anything so beautiful, and that included a few wealthy short-term boyfriends.

“Does it talk?” She inhaled in another heady breath.

“It does,” He grinned but pointed at an ignition button. For now, you will need to use that until we get it set up to know you.

“This is Mom’s car?!” Tristan peered around Jack’s leg, taking in, what was to him, a life-sized Hot Wheels car.

“It is! Ask her if she will give us a ride!”

♪♫¨♫♪

Jack’s hair brushed one of her bare shoulders exposed by the tank top she wore. With a shiver of anticipation, she pushed at him. “Stop hovering and let me look!”

During the maiden car voyage, Jack had explained that if
she wanted anything changed or any extra accessories, despite already being tagged with her personal license plate, the dealer would make the change.

Although she insisted she liked it as is, directly after supper, he pulled up the website of possibilities, and hung over her as she swiped through different color combinations, different sunroofs and dash accessories.

Her shove and complaint of his closeness only made him grin. Putting his tongue out, he licked the affected shoulder before moving off to play Xbox with Dax and Tristan.

Jack had given many gifts over the week, so the excitement of thank you sex was not unfamiliar. However, this was a car, and her psyche was geared up, pun intended.

After supper, Dax only played a game or two and made himself scarce, declaring he was going to check out a new club. Tristan went to bed, and Jack and Marissa found themselves in the kitchen mixing drinks and revving to begin the rest of the night.

“So if you have made up your mind on that car, let’s go christen it...” Jack used a fork to blend their alcohol and tossed it into the sink. When that trademark smirk united with a raise of his dark brows, she was lost.

“Bottoms up then. No drinks out in my car.”

“Bottoms up?!” Those dark chocolate eyes flashed with mirth, and he took the joke further. “But no dicks out in your car?”

“You’re not going to think that is so funny if I say yes...”

“Hearing you scream yes is far from funny, Mariss...”

With Tristan cam locked on Jack’s phone screen, the yeses were sighed and screamed, from first the front seat, then the back. Reluctant to move off him, she remained limp, her arms forearms braced on either side of his head. He was melted to the back seat, his head resting against it.

“Wish I had my drink...,” he teased, his words muffled against her chest.

“Hmm?” Innocently, she jested, and pulled at the lacey bra hanging around his neck. “You say you wished you had your dick?” Dropping her face to his hair, she put her kegal exercises to use.

“You are going to break it...” he teased then when she repeated the maneuver, he playfully protested, “I’m not a machine...” She smiled into his neck when despite his joking words she felt the change inside her. “Even your toys have batteries...” A pointed reference to the drawer in her dresser she had negligently left open when hurriedly packing for the move to LA. Then finally, when she sweetly punished him for that comment, a buzz of strength surged through his lean muscles, and he pushed at her, coming horizontal down with her on the seat. “Alright Mariss my honey, let’s see what you got left...”

He possessed every inch of her body and soul. All she knew was Jack. The design of the seats offered her hips to him. The close confines seemed to amplify everything.

The limited proximity reminded her of junior high games like seven minutes in heaven, and it reminded her of her first time which had been in the cab of a pickup truck.

Yet, this was Jack. Not some awkward teen in a closet or clumsy crush in a car. This was Jack filling every sense.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about...,” his voice rumbled, mingling with his breath on her ear. “...so unbelievably hot...”

She needed no clarification. Finally, she had let go. The car echoed with the uncontrolled, frenzied sound of just how much she could let go.

“...so good...” The understatement of the agreeable word was all she was capable of uttering. Her brain was still a fog, and her heart was still racing.

“You okay?” Now he raised his head enough to peer into her eyes. She nodded, a blissful smile stretching her lips. Jack grinned back, rubbing his lips to hers before pulling away enough to sit up and bringing her with him.

Laying another sweet kiss on her lips, he softly declared, “I’m going to miss you so much Mariss. Cannot believe I have to leave you guys.”

“Just for a week,” she reminded, as much to console herself as him. During the first break in back to back shows, he was flying back to LA, then back to the next show venue. After that, the hopeful plan was that she and Tristan would join him within ten days.

It was the plan they had hashed over a southwestern taco salad delivered earlier that evening from a local restaurant. Stretching a hand to the console between the two front seats, she picked up Jack’s phone and studied their sleeping son while turning the screen so that he could see it too.

Here, in a brand new car, parked outside an amazing house, snuggled up to the man she loved, it did not seem that life could get any better.

“
DAMN IT JACK, YOU
gave her a new car, you tell me. How hard it is to give me a heads up!”

“It’s nobody’s business. And, what the hell is Jerry doing scoping the house when nothing is going on? How are they getting these pictures? No one has ever been at Meg’s before!”

“The pictures of you as one little happy family on the beach are actually working favorably. The picture of Tristan with a broken arm, not so much.” Through the phone speaker, Emma’s tone dripped with irritation.

“That is a perfect example of ‘what the hell! How in the fuck did that many get tipped off? It was the middle of the night, and we were not at the ER for more than an hour!”

“I don’t know Jack. All I can say is you need to help me to help you.”

“And I’m telling you I’m not going to call you up every time I buy my wife a present.”

“You just said wife. Is there something else you need to tell me?”

“She is as good as. Later Emma!”

“What’s going on?” Marissa, after shamelessly lurking in the kitchen doorway, rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Ambling over to where Jack perched on a bar stool, she saw that he was watching the PT and Tristan in the pool through the window.

“Emmajesty is all bent about the car.” Cracking one of his half grins, he returned her hug.

“Any particular reason?”

“Because she’s Emmajesty.”

“So pictures of us at Meg’s leaked?”

“So she says. I haven’t seen them. And now, apparently us in your car.”

Every muscle stiffened pulling painfully against her bones, and she stepped back to look into his face. “Of us in the car? Or...” She dropped her voice regretting that she had ever felt safe inside her own car. “Or us in the car?”

She could see it in his eyes. They lit up as if he would tease her, then just as quickly empathy replaced the emotion. “Of us and Tristan with the roof open.” His fingertips lightly moved up and down her spine as he assured, “The windows are tinted enough that, when they are up and the roof is closed, it would be impossible to see more than shadows, even with someone pressed up to the glass.”

Relief washed through her, and she again relaxed against him, swinging around to press her fingers into his shoulder blades. He groaned appreciatively under the massaging ministrations of her fingers.

For the last couple of days, he had done far more than casually pick up a guitar. His personal practice sessions ran a couple of hours apiece, two or three times a day, the third dependent on whether or not he had practice with the rest of Jackal.

“Dax fixed eggs with cheese.”

“He doesn’t have to cook for me and Tristan,” she protested. “Just wake me up, Jack.”

“Thank you. Eggs sound lovely,” Jack mocked, and she tried to pinch him but failed to grasp any skin over the lean muscles of his back.

The growl coming from her stomach made him laugh, and relenting, she mocked right back, “Thank you. Eggs sound lovely.”

Moving to the stove, she began to make toast for an egg sandwich while he picked up his phone again.

“I’m going to take Tristan out today. Drive around. Get some lunch wherever he wants.”

“Cool.” Taking a giant bite of the sandwich, she eyed him as he answered a text. She turned her attention to Tristan in the pool. Maybe she would soak up some sun on the island without Tristan continually splashing her and try not to think about how fast the tour was coming on.

Definitely, she would call her mother and update her about Tristan’s ER visit, something she should have done already.

What ended up happening was Randi dropped by to see the new car and then sweet talked Dax into picking up lunch for them, which thy ate on the patio.

“So you told Jack about Emmajesty? And the tour decree?” Randi spoke while arranging the avocados on her salad.

“It came up.” Marissa stabbed her fork into the lettuce. Then, when Randi stilled her motions with a hopeful look, Marissa divulged, “He was furious. I do not know what happened from there, but I do know we are going on tour as soon as Tristan can. And, that Emmajesty doesn’t even look at me anymore.”

Just the afternoon before, the publicist had stopped by with some papers for Jack and had pointedly turned her face away from Marissa. It was kind of a relief not to have to play nice with her anymore.

“She will get over it.” Randi shrugged.

“And who cares if she doesn’t.” Marissa shrugged.

They both giggled and went on to better topics.

“Since you will be home then, I was wondering if you wanted to check out a shoot?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Marissa hedged remembering the conversation with Candace. Were they really going to try and talk her into a lingerie shoot?

“Come on. This next one is tame. It would be fun!”

Would it? Marissa couldn’t imagine being as uninhibited as Randi, but in the end agreed.

“Awesome!” Randi cleared her trash. “And now I must go home and get ready for a date with a certain physical therapist!”

“FUCK!” THE EXPLICATIVE
carried through the hallway.

Irritably shifting on the couch, she looked up from Tristan’s tiny fingers tapping out answers on screen to a spelling game on Jack’s IPad, to see Reed storming out of the music room.

The band, and Emmajesty, and a couple of other guys she had seen at the drop party, had been holed up in the room for a couple of hours.

“Oh. Sorry T.J....” Reed apologized for his curse while cutting through the den to the kitchen. To Marissa, he apologized and explained that Emmajesty was driving them all crazy. The fridge opened and closed, and he continued on to the hallway bathroom.

The rest of that room began to slowly empty, the people spilling into the hall and out the front door. Once the crowd was down to only Jack, Reed, Liz, and Chris, they all grabbed their favored drinks and threw themselves down on the couch.

“So, it’s day three,” Chris observed, and Marissa deduced that he was counting down to the day of departure. “The usual?” With that inquiry, his gaze encompassed the rest of the group but particularly landed on Jack in some sort of speculative challenge.

“I don’t know...,” Jack hedged. He was relaxed on a piece of the sectional at a right angle to her, and just their feet touched.

“I knew it!” Chris suddenly livened up with a gleeful shout, “Pay up!”

“In your dreams, loser.” Jack’s retort rebounded without so much as a blink.

The curiosity was killing her, and Marissa watched the debacle with a casualness she did not feel.

“No way, Storm. You would not let up last year when it was me. You gave me hell-o. Hello.” Chris dwindled down fast when he glanced at Tristan. “Just admit, dude, and pay up.”

“I said, ‘I don’t know.’ Not no.”

“Mariss is not letting you go.” Reed actually cackled as he sided with Chris.

At her name, she swung her gaze around again, and Liz’s intent look drew her eyes. When Marissa curiously blinked, the other woman moved her chin and lashes in a nod and a wink.

“Uh guys? I’m right here...,” she joked to cover the exasperation simmering beneath the surface.