Chapter 2

2

JENNY

“ O kay, this is going to sting a bit,” I tell the guy who just came to my rescue earlier. We sit on the single bed in my tiny studio apartment. I don’t have a couch, and I typically eat on the floor, so this is the only decent place to sit, especially for someone his size.

He hasn’t told me his name yet, but here I am, tending to his wounds like I’m his personal nurse. I have never brought anyone here, so I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Everything so far feels like a dream and I’m just on the sidelines, watching this happen to another version of me.

He’s a massive guy, rough around the edges. He just has a black Henley shirt and dark jeans on, but his muscles ripple with every small movement. He’s at least three times my size, and the first and foremost emotion that should elicit from me is fear.

Right?

Well, for reasons I cannot explain and things I will unpack later, I don’t feel afraid of him. On the contrary, I feel safe.

The way he helped me with those perverts, the way he swung his fists and moved like a seasoned fighter. This is someone who’s no stranger to fights. This is someone who’s had to use his strength to survive … and win.

“It’s fine. Let’s get this over with.” His voice is deep, and my body responds like it’s a caress. It doesn’t help that his knee grazes my bare one, making me sit up straighter. Even with the thick layer of denim in between, I feel the heat all the way to my toes.

Electricity pulses between us, and I draw a deep breath, struggling to ground myself. Naked hunger flares in his eyes, and I’m pretty sure I have the same look.

My apex clenches, and my thighs cinch together.

It’s what I felt earlier when I first saw him. The dark eyes. The tattoos peeking from under his shirt. The dark hair cut close to his scalp. The roughness. The raw masculinity.

I could tell he was massive as he sat by the bar, but when he stood to his full height, I felt sorry for the guys harassing me almost every night.

Danger comes off him in waves, and I don’t know why I find it hot. Am I the kind of woman who gets turned on by guys who look like trouble? Or is it just because of this one particular man?

“I don’t mean to interrupt whatever debate you’re having with yourself, miss, but you’re rubbing the antiseptic on a different finger.” His voice shakes me out of my thoughts, and I find the corner of his mouth quirking upward. God, he is handsome. Ruggedly so. Like the kind who will sling me over his shoulder and throw me to the bed before he’ll pound into me.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jenny. You?”

“Jackson. Nice to meet you, Jenny.”

He sounds so cultured and polite, so far from the man he was at the bar. “Nice to meet you too, Jackson.” I dab the antiseptic to the scrapes on his knuckle. “What brings you to this small town of ours? You don’t look like a tourist.”

“I’m not.” He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “I used to live here.”

That surprises me. “Really? What happened?”

Hesitation crosses his features. “I just got out of prison.”

“Oh.”

“I could just leave. I understand if you feel?—”

“No! I was surprised, that’s all.” I wonder how much to tell him, but whatever. Those cockroaches earlier are more dangerous than him. Actually, half the male population in this town is scarier. “In case you’re wondering, no, I don’t feel uncomfortable around you. On the contrary, I feel safe with you.” I sweep an arm across my tiny space. “Apparently safe enough to invite you here, which I never do, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He looks at me from under his lashes, and my God, what long, thick lashes. If I had those, I wouldn’t waste money on mascara and eyelash extensions. “I beat my stepdad to within an inch of his life because I caught him beating my mom.”

I suck in a sharp breath, tears pooling in my eyes. This is the last thing I expect to hear from him. “Oh God. Is she…?”

He gives me a sad smile. “She died last year from an unrelated illness, but I believe the stress he put her under was part of the reason she kept getting sick.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jackson shakes his head, an almost boyish uncertainty on his face. “No, it’s fine. That’s why I was here, to visit her grave.”

“Are you okay?”

He tries to hide the surprise, but I see it. Is this the first time someone has ever checked up on him? “Yeah, I mean, there’s nothing I can do, right?”

“I understand grief. I do, and I know it’s never as easy as people say it is.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” He hesitates for a second before looking away. “I should’ve known, you know. I was so busy with making money that I only ever checked up on her once every two weeks. I came home once a year and stayed for no more than two days.”

“Jackson…”

“I should’ve heard it in the quiver in her voice. I should’ve been suspicious when she refused to take video calls.” He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, and I let him talk. He needs to get this out. “The only reason I found out was because I wanted to surprise her. I came home without telling her since I planned to fly her to Paris. Then…” He clears his throat, and I try to comfort him in the only way I know without making him uncomfortable—I rub his back with my free hand. “I saw that fucker hit her. My vision went red, and I was so consumed by fury that I didn’t know what I was doing until four cops pulled me off him.”

“He deserved it.”

“He did. What kind of man hurts a woman? My mother was the sweetest, kindest person. It would take a special kind of animal to even think of hitting her.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere. I intend to find out, though. A guy like that? I’m sure he didn’t stop with Mom.”

“Are you saying…?”

“Someone needs to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

“Oh, so where are you headed after?”

He lifts one of those huge shoulders. “I still don’t know. I might drift here and there until I find a new home. I need to regroup before I go find him.”

Something about his defeated tone shatters me, and I can’t stop staring at him. He’s been through so much, and all I want to do is make him feel better, make him feel good.

“Jenny? I don’t really mind the sting, but you’ve been pressing that cotton ball to my open wound for five seconds now. It’s a bit of an overkill for the bacteria. They’re long dead, I’m afraid.”

My brain catches up a beat too late, and I chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. God, why do I feel awkward and weird? I’m behaving oddly, too. Bringing home a complete stranger? That’s so not me. Thinking of letting him do unspeakable things to me? Definitely not me. “Sorry. I’ll go grab some more bandages.”

His knee is still against mine, which throws me off balance as I stand abruptly. I scramble for purchase, but his hands wrap around my waist, steadying me.

I end up straddling one thick, muscled thigh and gripping his broad shoulders, and they’re so muscular under my palms. My breasts, straining against the poor excuse of a shirt, press against his face.

My body freezes in place, my toes curling in my shoes. A tingling sweeps up the back of my neck and across my face. My skin feels impossibly hot, but I can’t find it in me to move.

“Jenny?” Jackson’s voice pierces through the fog of lust, and I force myself to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his gaze dark, and he drops his eyes to my mouth as if drawn there. “Does this make you uncomfortable? Do I make you uncomfortable?”

The question throws me by surprise, and while I want to preserve some kind of self-respect, I can’t lie. I don’t want to. “No.”

He grabs my thighs, moves me forward, and then back. The inseam rubs against my clit, and I can’t stop the little gasp coming out of my mouth. His voice drops an octave. “Do you like that, baby girl?”

“Y-yes.” God, it feels so good that I abandon any self-preservation and ride his thigh, the friction making my eyes roll to the back of my head. “Oh, oh, God.”

In one swift motion, he lifts me off him and stands, planting my feet on the floor. I swallow back the disappointment, but I barely have the chance to let out a protest before I feel his mouth against mine.

The kiss starts slow and tentative at first, like he’s gauging whether I’m into it or not, giving me a chance to back out and stop it.

No freaking way.

I stand on my toes, snaking my arms around his neck, which is no easy feat given his height. He grabs me by the waist and lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he skims my back with his massive hand and pulls me to him.

My mind explodes when he shoves his tongue into my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. I have never known passion this primal, this all-consuming.

I give as much as I get, but I groan when he puts me down again. I’m about to tell him to stop playing when he unbuttons my shorts and slides them down my legs.

My walls are thin, and I’m always careful of every sound I make, but the yelp I let out when he crouches down and lifts me on his shoulders is something all my neighbors can hear. Even the old couple across the street probably hear it, too.

My hands go to his head, grabbing his hair as my thighs wrap around his neck, unknowingly shoving my pussy to his face.

His warm breath tickles me, making me burn. “Relax, baby girl. I got you. I won’t let you fall.”

I begin to relax when I realize he’s neither grunting nor staggering with my weight. He gives me no time to get myself together, though, as he slides my panties to the side and drags his tongue from my hole to my clit.

My heels dig into the taut muscles of his upper back, my pulse on overdrive.

I slap both hands to my mouth, muffling the long moan. A ripping sound bounces off my walls, and my panties hang on one thigh after he tears it. Jackson’s fingers dig into my thighs, and he backs me into a wall, the hard, rough surface scraping against me.

Electric heat scorches up my spine as he worships me with his mouth, taking my folds between his lips and sucking my sensitive button. Without shame, I grind into his face as much as I can, riding his tongue and pushing him deeper into me.

I don’t even get a warning as my orgasm uncoils with blinding force. My whole world explodes, and I see stars. My heart gives an erratic beat, and my limbs turn into wet noodles.

Something wet and warm gushes out of me, and Jackson laps it all up, slurping and laving in my juices.

He growls against my pussy one word that shakes me to my core. “Mine.”