Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

JACOB

I 've got the tablet open next to my plate. The screen splits into all the security feeds, so there's no chance of anybody sneaking up on us. It gives me an excuse not to be present at the meal, meaning I don't have to exist in the awkwardness between us three.

Even so, it's difficult not to look up at Emma, so appealing in her hoodie, her hair messily tied up, some strands loose as if she's waiting for me to smooth them back into place. She hasn't said anything about my mom, but I can feel her wanting to dig deeper, feel my woman wanting to make it right. With Mike there, it's impossible.

"Do you have a plan yet?" Mike finally asks.

I swallow a bloody piece of steak. "I'm going to kill Rafael. He's stupid enough to come Stateside. After all he's done and all he's threatened, he belongs in the dirt."

"Won't you get arrested?" Emma says, a hitch in her voice. That hitch… It brings me back to her graduation party and all the moments we've shared in this cabin, trapped in our own universe.

"No chance," I tell her. "I've got friends who'll make sure the right story is told. Nobody's going to jail when Rafael's in the ground. That's if anybody even hears about it."

"He sounds like a monster," she says quietly. "He's evil. Taking your mom like that."

I stare down at my plate, trying to mask any feelings, but that was far easier before all this happened. Before the party, before I crossed the line over and over, nobody could crack me open. Now, with my Emma, I can't shut myself off anymore.

"It's what scumbags like him do," I grunt. "He's going to try to force me to bring you to him."

"Or what?" Emma whispers.

"Isn't it obvious?" I say fiercely, with far too much passion in my voice. Mike isn't used to hearing Emma and me talk like this. We're constantly crossing over the family-friend line and going into different territory.

"You can't let them do that," she mutters.

"Do you think I want him to kill her?" I say. "But if it's a choice between losing you…" I quickly correct myself, looking at Mike. "… losing you both, then I know which choice I'll make."

"What if we can help?" Mike asks.

"It's too risky," I tell him. "I'll handle this my way. I've been doing it three hundred and forty days a year for over a decade. I know how to handle scum like this."

"This is different," Mike points out. "We were never involved before. Your mother was never at risk."

I shove another piece of steak into my mouth, refusing to listen to his words. This is different . Maybe there's some truth in that, but he doesn't understand what he's asking me to do.

"I'll take a shift tonight," Mike says. "Make up for yesterday. You need to get some rest, Jacob."

"I don't mind going without sleep," I tell him.

"You need rest," Mike says firmly. "Give me the surveillance footage. I'll wake you if there's any movement." When I open my mouth to argue, Mike says stubbornly, "Let me do this, please. I messed up yesterday. Let me make a difference. Even a small one."

I sigh and nod. How can I refuse anything from him after everything I've done? How can I ever tell him no ever again? I feel Emma looking at me. She probably wants to reach out and place her hand on mine. She probably wants to hold me as hungrily as I want to hold her. Sickly, I find myself resenting Mike's presence.

The blizzard, the isolation, the wind battering against the cabin… I miss it. Hell, I miss it a lot . Nothing was better than being locked in this place with my woman, nothing to worry about except our closeness, our heat, us .

"This steak is delicious," Mike says. "Thanks, Emma."

"Yeah…" I risk a look at her. I almost lean over the table and press my lips against hers. "Thank you."

She offers a small, shaky smile.

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep seems a long, long way off. Mike is at the front window with a rifle and the tablet. I know he'll stay alert, stay awake, and get me if there is a risk of any fighting. That's not the reason I can't seem to settle.

Whenever I close my eyes, I either see Emma or my mom. I see Rafael grinning sickly down at my mother, his gold and silver teeth glinting, reveling in his power over her. I see the worst-case scenario and try to tell myself I don't care. She threw herself into drugs, ignoring what he was doing, ignoring her responsibility. Emma is going to be such a better mother.

I roll over and wrap a pillow around my head as if I can make these insane thoughts shut the hell up. It's the sort of thing I shouldn't even let myself start to think, let alone obsess over. Yet when I think of her perfect body, how I slid into her, exploded into her without a condom…

I sit up when my door creaks open. Emma slips inside, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top. Fuck . Is she trying to make me pound her so hard that her dad hears? She walks to the edge of my bed. Her hair is down now, wavy and sexy-messy past her shoulders. Without the battering wind of the blizzard, everything feels far riskier, far more real.

"What are you doing?" I ask in a husky whisper.

"I know you're hurting," she replies. "I can't just leave you in here alone."

"I'm fine," I grunt.

She walks around the bed. Despite the emotion clinging to me, I can't stop the hunger. Her perky nipples are poking through her top. She sits, taking my hand. "I know you care."

"Maybe you want me to care," I say, squeezing her hand. I should roar at her to get the hell out of my room or whisper sternly, anyhow, so Mike doesn't hear. I should snap at her that my mother means nothing to me, so she better stop fussing about it.

Instead, I pull her into a hug. She makes a gentle moaning noise as she slips into my lap.

"This isn't about that ," she says, wriggling against me, feeling my hardness press against her thighs.

Stop, stop, stop! Mike is twenty feet away, if that. He could hear us and walk in here. If there's movement on the cameras, he'll need to come in here and alert me, and then what? He's going to find me indulging in his daughter's curves, her delicious, perfect body.

"I can't help how my body responds to you."

She slips out of my lap, sits at my side, takes my hand, and looks at me stubbornly. In the low light, her eyes glitter in the most alluring way. She will always fascinate me, my perfect girl, every inch of her body and soul.

"I'm here for you," she whispers. "For more than that ."

"I told you. My dad abused me. My mom heard it and did nothing."

"Stop acting like I can't read you," she says. "I know this means more to you than you're trying to make me believe."

"Maybe there were some good times," I grunt, glancing at the door, "but you shouldn't be here."

"I know," she whispers.

That's it. I know , and then neither of us does anything about it. She squeezes my hand even tighter, smoothing her thumb over my knuckles, then leans forward and gently kisses me on the cheek. I turn, find her lips, and let the savage in me awaken. Then she puts her hand against my chest and leans away. She's trying to keep this civil like I should be, but she can't stop the heat from blazing through her hand. She can't hide it from her eyes either.

"What good times?" she asks.

"Little moments," I tell her. "Sometimes, we'd play cards before Dad got home. Or we'd watch movies together. They seemed special to me as a kid, but that was only when she tried to get clean, which never lasted long."

This makes me think of Peter, the criminal on the edge. I gave him a second chance. Why? For Mom? Do I really believe he will change his life? More likely, he'll slip up. Then he'll find me waiting for him one night, my gun in hand, ready to do what I've done before.

"You won't be able to live with yourself if you let Rafael hurt her."

"Maybe not," I snap, making my voice quieter, "but I won't be able to live if I let anything happen to you , Emma. You're… you're all that matters to me."

She blinks, her eyes glistening as if she's about to let out some tears. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth," I growl. "You and our future."

"What future?" she says, with that sassy fierceness that keeps putting me on the edge of claiming her again.

I grab her hips and pull her back into my lap. My rod stiffens right away, blotting out all my thoughts. Even without the wind whipping and howling outside or the snow flurrying, I feel trapped with my woman.

"It wasn't the blizzard that trapped us," I whisper, bringing my lips close to hers, grazing her lips, tasting her, all the temptation, all the hunger. "We trapped ourselves. Just like at the party. Trapped in that closet. Trapped because we want to be. Trapped by our desire. You can feel it."

"Hmm," she moans, shifting against me. Then she says, "Jacob…"

There's a lot contained in that one word. She's saying, Dad might catch us. She's saying, We're supposed to be trying to end this. She's saying, We don't have time for this now.

When I press my lips against hers, all her doubts melt away with another moan. She slides her hands to my shoulders, pressing in the urgent way I recognize from the blizzard. I grind my hips, rubbing my thick length through my pants against her shorts, feeling her heat, the folds of her lips.

"Are you wearing any underwear?" I groan.

She leans back, her lips shiny from the kissing. Slowly, she shakes her head.

I slide my hand up her leg, squeezing down against her thickness, pushing my hand between her legs. She really isn't. I can feel her wet pussy leaking her eager juices all over my hand through her shorts. She moans as I rub her slowly, glancing at the door but not stopping me, and I don't stop myself.

Instead, I probably do the worst thing I could. I grab her hips and lift her up, then grab her shorts, pulling them down, revealing the gorgeous triangle of her pussy, her thighs shaping it. Her inner legs are wet from her excitement.

"You knew what you were doing," I growl, "dressing like that… showing me your perfect wet slit. Fuck ."

"I wasn't thinking," she murmurs.

"I need you again. I need you so fucking badly."

Standing, I grab her top and pull it over her head. It was wrong before when Mike wasn't here. Now, when he could come marching down the hallway any second, I still throw her top to the floor, staring at her big, bouncing tits, her nipples made for sucking.

I rub her wet core gently as I take one nipple in my mouth, playing with her tit at the same time. There's something so intoxicating about the way she moans like she's trying to be as quiet as she can but can't hold back the pleasure.

I press my fingers against her clit, feeling her nipple get harder in my mouth, pricked with excitement. I change to her other needy tit and start sucking that nipple, too. She moans and tugs at my shirt.

"I want to see you," she whispers.

I lean up. "I've got bandages on my back, remember?"

"I don't care. I want you… all of you." She lets out a shaky breath. She doesn't have to explain to me. There's the same thought niggling at her that's niggling at me. We have to stop. We have to be strong.

I let her pull my shirt over my head. She trails her fingernails down my bare chest, over my stomach. "You're so strong," she whispers. "You've got so many scars."

I glance down at my body. In the low light, a few of my scars show—bullet holes and knife marks. "A lifetime of fighting," I grunt.

"Will you always fight?"

"I'll always try to make a difference."

She traces a scar on my chest with her forefinger. "But will you, personally, always go out there and risk yourself?"

I move both hands to her naked hips. She doesn't know how attractive she is, doesn't know how perfectly shaped her body is. Every single inch has me aching with the need to claim her.

"I'd need a pretty good incentive not to," I tell her fiercely, squeezing onto her hips.

"What about that future you mentioned?" she murmurs. "Would that be enough?"

A shudder runs through me like the bullets of a gun firing, hammering, taunting. There's no cover, no ignoring even a shred of my emotions when I'm with Emma—my emotions . I'm supposed to be cold.

"I was supposed to be dead inside," I growl, kissing her on the lips. "Then, at that party, you woke something in me. It hasn't stopped, not once. Even if I know it's wrong, and now…"

"Yeah?" she asks, her hand on my chest, the warmth spiraling down my torso and throughout me, heating me up. It's like a vital piece of me is melting through my bones and connecting with her. Like the blizzard somehow froze us together. One person. Like when we rocked together, sitting upright.

"I never want to be apart from you," I tell her, returning my hand to her core, wet for me already. I rub her entrance as I lean down, letting her feel my breath over her face. "You're the only person I can see a future with, but we both know it's wrong?—"

"Don't talk about wrong right now," she murmurs.

"I'd give it up for you," I tell her, "if there was a world where we could be together and it wouldn't tear everything apart. I'd move into a training and logistics role. I'd still fight that fight. I'd never stop."

"I'd never ask you to," she breathes in a voice so warm and filled with emotion. She places her hand on my chest as I keep palming her core.

"But I'd settle down."

"If you found the right lady…" She arches her eyebrow sassily, but she can't stop the shudder of pleasure from moving through her.

"I already have."

She moans as I kiss her again. There's no excuse or justification I could ever give myself this time. Any second, we could be… But I don't care. I can't let myself give a damn as I grab her hips and move her onto the bed. She lies back, staring up at me with her legs open, her pussy shining, beckoning to me.

"I'm claiming you with my raw dick—no condom. Nothing separates us. You belong to me."

She moans, nodding her head up and down as I free my cock and lean down on the bed. I hold myself up with one hand, using the other to guide my tip and push inside her. She moans again but then bites down, knowing she can't make too much noise. Mike will hear. He'll catch us. We have to stop. Dammit, I can't.

It's impossible to stop when I feel her hot, wet entrance wrapping around more and more of my cock. There's no nervousness this time, no doubt. My woman scratches her fingernails down my chest as I slide deeper, like she's urging me further and further inside her perfect hole.

I stop when I'm buried all the way in, her slit gripping my base. Leaning down, I find her lips again, kissing her as I rock, sliding deep into my woman. She gasps, so hot and excited she can't keep kissing. I lean back instead, letting me watch her tits sway for me.

"Oh, fuck ," I whisper when she toys with the ends of her nipples.

She purses her lips. Shh . She's right. She knows just how to push all my buttons. She knows how to drive her man completely goddamn wild. She tugs on her engorged, thick nipples, making her curvy tits shake.

I nod, then grind into her harder, her pussy making slick wet noises as if her body is trying to give us away. Even if she was a virgin just yesterday, she's learning so damn fast, grinding down on my dick.

"Oh…" I bite down, arching my back, getting an even deeper angle, feeling her pussy clamp around my dick like she never wants to let go. She holds me like she's fighting for that future we talked about.

She lets her tits go, clutching onto the sheets, letting her body shake for me as I drive into her over and over again. Then she stops when the mattress makes a loud whining noise. I slowly stop thrusting, but it's not easy. My instinct is to hammer this wet, horny pussy until she's ready to take every fucking drop of my come.

"We have to be quiet," she whispers.

"Come here, then," I growl.

Leaning down, I look up, my arms under her armpits, and then stand, bringing her with me. She gasps and wraps her legs around me. My cock stays in her the whole time, her eager walls clutching onto me. She knows I'm her man. She knows exactly who she belongs to. She knows she has to hold me tight. She knows I'm in charge.

She clings onto my shoulders as I bounce her on my dick. Now her pussy makes sloppy, wet noises, but there's no way I'm stopping. Her thickness jiggles for me as I guide her up and down faster. I'll always be so damn thankful for how much of my woman there is, voluptuous perfection making my cock burn with come, writhing up my length.

She gasps as her walls flutter around my dick. I feel her cream sliding down my length, her body gushing more and more pleasure. It's the sound of her that makes me explode, her body so wet she can't help but make noise as I grind up and into her. I erupt simultaneously, then fall onto the bed, making too much noise. I brace her back, catching her as our bodies intertwine.

She moans and wraps her arms around me, kissing my cheek, and then the door starts to whine open. No, no, no, but it is. It's happening. There's nothing I can do to stop it. Jesus Christ. Fuck. No! This isn't how he was supposed to find out. I can't even turn. I don't want to look. This is the worst way this could have possibly turned out. There's no coming back from this.