CHAPTER THIRTY
Shane
So. Mad. I’m so flipping mad.
So mad that I flag a cab to go back to my own apartment—alone, without any big stupid men along for the ride—but Jake leverages himself into the backseat with me at the last moment, insisting on escorting me to my front door and making sure I’m safe.
Making sure I’m safe, even though he doesn’t believe that I’m right about Keri sending thugs to scare me into breaking up with him. Even though he knows his ex has been following me around the city since he left, and that I’ve spotted her lurking in doorways no less than four times, because I told him all about it.
But still he refuses to take my theory seriously, or to go to the police to report the attempted mugging, because the attackers’ faces were covered and we “wouldn’t be able to help the cops identify them anyway.”
He’s crazy. And frustrating as hell.
And a patronizing jerk who ignores my insistence that I can make it up to my apartment by myself just fine, and stands with his arms folded in the elevator, calmly avoiding eye contact even though I’m glaring at him like it’s my job.
“I’m sorry,” he says as we zoom upward. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met. Bar none.”
He inclines his head. “Could be. But I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“If you really wanted me to be safe, we’d be at the police station right now.”
“We couldn’t see their faces, Shane.” His tone implies that I’m the most stubborn, unreasonable person in the universe. “A thousand men in Manhattan have the same build. Going to the police won’t accomplish anything. Trust me, if there was a chance in hell it would, I would go with you to file a report. Nothing is more important to me than keeping you safe.”
I cross my arms, holding his gaze as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. I step past him with a harrumph and start digging in my purse for my keys.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, tailing me to the door.
“What’s what supposed to mean?”
“The harrumph. The harrumph and the glare.”
I shrug an icy shoulder, hoping he feels the chill.
“Come on, princess,” he says, voice rough. “Aren’t we a little old for the silent treatment? At least talk to me. I can’t make anything better if you won’t talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, even though my stomach is in knots and all I want to do is fall into his arms and get lost in his strength and be where I’ve wanted to be since the moment he left Saturday morning.
Why did those men have to ruin what was on its way to being one of the best nights of my life? Every minute with Jake tonight was perfect—better than perfect—before those masked creeps came out of nowhere.
But the fact is that we were attacked, and Jake isn’t handling it well. He’s being ridiculous, dangerously ridiculous, and I can’t let it slide. He can stay on the crazy train if he wants, but I’m getting off.
I’m about to tell him so when his palms flatten on the door on either side of my face, pinning me between his arms. A moment later his voice is in my ear, deep and sexy and filled with so much need I can feel it vibrating across my skin. “Don’t do this, princess. Don’t shut me out. Please.”
My eyes slide closed, the world spinning as his chest presses against my shoulders and his smell swirls through my head.
“All I’ve thought about since the moment I left you is being with you again. And not just because you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. It’s because you feel right. Being with you, I…”
I cover his hands with mine, silently encouraging him to keep going, that simple touch enough to make my blood pulse faster and my body ache.
“I feel right,” he whispers. “But if we can’t make it through our first fight without you running from me again, this isn’t going to work.”
I let out a breath, long and slow, knowing he has a point. “But I don’t know how to fight through this. Not when you won’t even consider my side.”
“I have considered it, Shane,” he says. “I swear, I have. Do you feel like you’ve honestly considered mine?”
I ponder the question as my fingertips slide down the back of his hands to his thickly muscled and perfectly fuzzy forearms. “I like that you’re a little furry right here,” I say, petting the crisp hairs. “Have I told you that?”
“No.” His breath is warm on my neck, but it still makes me shiver.
“Well, I do. If your forearm were a ferret, I would name it Fergus.”
He hums thoughtfully. “You can name my forearm Fergus if you want.”
I pet his right arm. “Thank you. That’s nice of you to give up naming rights so freely like that.”
“You’re welcome.” He kisses my jaw as his left arm wraps around my waist, pulling me tighter against him, sending a fresh wave of longing rushing through me. “Does this mean we’ve made up?”
“I guess so.” I bite my lip as his erection presses against me through my jeans, nudging at my tailbone. “You’re right. They wouldn’t be able to identify the men based on what we saw. But I want us to write down everything that’s happened to either of us so far, so that we have a record of it all. Because there will come a time when we need to go to the police, Jake, and if you don’t keep your promise to go with me, then I’ll go alone. And I’m not sure making up will be an option after that.”
“We can make the list right now.” He reaches past me to turn the key in the lock. “And I promise I won’t let you make that trip alone. If we ever need help from law enforcement, I’ll be right there with you.”
He steps inside, half-carrying me over the threshold and closing the door behind us. I drop my purse on the entry table and turn in his arms, threading my fingers together behind his neck.
“And I want it noted that I think that time was when Keri came at you with a kitchen knife.” I pin him with a hard look, even though all I want to do is kiss him and keep kissing him until we’re naked and he’s inside me and everything feels perfect again.
He nods, backing us both deeper into the room. “Noted. But that was before I met you.”
I arch a brow. “And that matters because…?”
“I wasn’t as concerned about safety at that point,” he says, cupping my bottom in his hands. “And I hadn’t fallen hard for this ass. I fucking love your ass, princess. I’ve been having filthy dreams about it all week.”
“Yeah?” My breath hitches as he lifts me, holding me with his hands beneath my sit bones as I link my ankles behind his back. “How dirty?”
“So dirty I would wake up hard and so desperate to be inside you my balls felt like I’d taken a slap shot to the nuts,” he says, making swift progress toward the bedroom.
“Not sure what a slap shot is,” I say, kissing his cheek. “But I’m sorry you had to go through that. Poor dragon.”
“It was torture.” He moves into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. “I had to jerk off to memories of being inside you to get back to sleep, but I didn’t have nearly enough memories, princess. I need more.”
“I think that can be arranged.” I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, holding on tight as he lengthens us both onto the bed, his body warm and heavy on top of mine. “Thanks for not letting me run.”
“Thanks for putting up with my stubborn ass.” He pulls my sweater up and over my head and cups my breasts through my bra. “I love your breasts, too, you know. Almost as much as your ass. I especially love the sounds you make when I bite your tits.”
My breath rushes out. “I love your mouth on me. You feel so good.” I arch into his touch as he tugs my bra down and his tongue circles my nipple, sending the ache inside me building to critical levels with just a few teasing strokes.
“I love feeling your nipple get hard in my mouth,” he says, rolling my other nipple between his fingers. “And knowing I’m getting you wet. You’re wet already aren’t you, princess?”
“Yes.” The word becomes a moan as he drives one hand down the front of my jeans, under my panties, finding where I’m slick and hot.
He curses as he begins to fuck me with his hand. “I’m going to make you come so many times tonight, baby. I’m going to make you come until you forget you ever wanted to go home alone.” His mouth closes around my breast, sucking me deep, so deep I cry out as I rock into his touch, seconds from coming with my jeans still on and only a few deep strokes of his fingers.
His magic fingers, magic hand—this magic man who brings me over crying out his name. Seconds later, he’s stripped off my jeans and tossed them to the floor. Before I’ve come down from my first orgasm, he’s between my legs, licking and sucking and biting.
He bites my clit, bites it, applying the perfect amount of pressure—not too soft, not too hard—and I cry out again, without words this time. There are no words, just hot, hungry, sexy sounds that spill from deep inside me as I come on his tongue and he moans against my swollen flesh, making it clear he loves the way I taste, loves bringing me pleasure, loves everything we do to each other when we’re like this.
And then he kisses me, the taste of my sex still salty in his mouth and his Jake taste sweet and strong beneath it, and I know that nothing will ever taste as good as this man. This man who groans in relief as he pushes inside me, like being buried in my body is the only thing he needs in the whole wide world.
He drives all the way to the end of me, his cock so thick it hurts a little as it fills me full and then some, but it’s a sweet pain.
It’s the pain of getting everything you ever wanted and more. Of finding out that pleasure isn’t a river, it’s an ocean—a vast, endless sea of bliss and sensation. And as he fucks me into a third orgasm and announces his intentions to have a fourth from me before we’re finished, I realize just how much I’ve been missing.
This man is everything, everything I could ever want, and no matter how scary it is to look into his eyes and see a man who could be The One demanding I let him in, it’s scarier to think of no Jake, no Dragon, no strong arms holding me tight, assuring me there’s no reason to run.
Not ever again.