Midnight Vengeance Page 5

  Jacko turned his head to look at her full in the face. His dark eyes were steady on hers. “I’d paint your house, no question. I don’t have a million dollars but if I did, I’d give them to you if you asked.”

  Her heart gave a huge thump. She smiled shakily. “Then it’s a good thing I was just going to ask if you wanted a coffee or a nightcap. My headache’s better.”

  “I guess you know the answer, then.”

  He got out in the snow in only his shirt, rounded the front of the vehicle and opened her door. He held out a huge hand and she took it gratefully. The ground was a long way down.

  He looked down at her, still holding her hand in a warm, strong grip. His face was sober, even grim.

  “Yes,” he said.

  * * *

  Lauren trembled as they walked up to her front door. Okay. Jacko had basically already said yes, to anything she proposed. So how hard could this be?

  Very hard, it turned out. Because that rush of conviction in the SUV driving over here had dissipated, leaving her feeling sad and foolish.

  She’d heard the stories about him from Suzanne and Allegra, though they’d tapered off lately. But still, they’d been plenty colorful.

  How he was a player and he liked them young and super sexy. Biker chicks, mostly. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t very young anymore and she was anything but sexy. A B-cup at best, in her more optimistic moments.

  She wasn’t even that good in bed, or so she’d been told. What did she know? It all seemed so very mysterious, right now, walking up to her porch, with a light snow falling around them. That whole Sex Thing seemed alien, something Martians did.

  Another woman would know precisely what to do and would be a firecracker in bed. Firecracker. That was the term one of her stepfather’s goons had used to describe a wannabe model-du-jour he’d bedded. What did firecrackers do? Sex was such a basic activity, what room was there for improvement?

  And yet there had to be room for improvement because Lauren knew, without a shadow of doubt, that no one would ever, ever call her a firecracker in bed. Not even a sparkler.

  Oh God. This was a really really bad idea. They were at her door and the whole Sex Thing loomed behind it. And really, in her experience sex wasn’t that great. Maybe it would leave a bad taste in her mouth, cloud up her happy memories of Portland.

  Had Jacko realized that for a brief moment of lunacy she’d contemplated dragging him to bed? Because though he always looked impassive and impervious, he was actually pretty observant. How humiliating if he realized it, shuddered at the thought, politely accepted a shot of her whiskey and made a fast escape.

  And, and even if he did throw her—what was it called?—a mercy fuck, what would that gain her? She’d never see him again. She was going to embark upon a long trip tomorrow with no idea of the destination. She’d need a good night’s sleep, not a night faking orgasms.

  Thoughts buzzing in her head like angry hornets, she scrabbled uselessly in her tiny evening purse for the key. She was close to a full-blown anxiety attack and her hands were numb. Ah, there the key was, on her silver paintbrush fob. But her hand was trembling; she couldn’t fit the damned key into the lock, one of those fancy ones Jacko had bought for her and had installed himself.

  Something big and warm and hard enveloped her hand, stilling it. His hand, gently removing the key from the crazy lady’s hands and opening the door himself.

  Lauren looked up into that hard, expressionless face, wishing she had a clue what he was thinking. How to make a quick getaway, probably. So he could go home, change out of his formal clothes, hop onto his massive bike that all the men at Alpha Security International envied and go to a biker bar. Where he’d pick up a biker chick.

  Who’d be young and sexy and fantastic in bed.

  “Breathe,” Jacko said, that deep voice heard in organs other than her ears.

  She wheezed in a breath. At the same time, Jacko opened her door, ushered her in, then closed it behind them.

  She didn’t have time for any more anxious thoughts because a second after the door closed, her back was against it, Jacko’s considerable weight pressing against her, and he was kissing her.

  And kissing her.

  Chapter Four

  God, her taste. Champagne and woman.

  Lauren.

  He’d spent way too many nights these past months staring at the ceiling, thinking of her mouth, sporting a massive hard-on that just wouldn’t go down. Just wouldn’t. Nothing he could do about it, either. His dick didn’t want his hand, it didn’t want another woman, it didn’t want anything but her, under him, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  Except now, maybe it was.

  He was going to take Lauren to bed. Something he’d wanted for months, fiercely, was going to happen.

  But...fuck. He had to be careful because he was overexcited. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to go without all these months for the first time in his life. The only times he was abstinent was on missions and his dick, like everyone’s dick, stayed down when bad guys shot at him. Blood in your groin instead of your head during a firefight was a surefire way to the grave.

  But other than that, he liked sex, a lot, and never went without. Until he met Lauren where he got that double whammy of wanting her and not wanting anyone else. And...she scared him.

  For all the fucking he’d done in his life, this new thing didn’t have any rules for him to follow. He wanted her so intensely he didn’t know if he could control himself so he found himself stiff and formal around her. He didn’t dare make a move because then when she rejected him he couldn’t be around her anymore and he’d rather cut his own balls off. And she would reject him, no doubt. The kind of woman who wanted him wasn’t subtle about it. Most women in bars just walked up to him and asked. Maybe they’d accept a beer or two but the reason they were with him was never in doubt. The rules were clear. He’d buy the beers and the dinner, spring for the pool table, no question. And he was going home with them, no question.

  There wasn’t any dancing around the topic. No long discussions. Not much talking at all, actually.

  One chick he met in a bar in San Diego walked up to him, looked at his crotch, smiled and walked out. He followed her, they went up to her apartment, had sex, and he left early the next morning, deployed on a mission to Colombia. They never spoke and he had no clue what her name was.

  So in his experience, women were pretty easy to understand and what they wanted was pretty clear. A stiff dick and stamina. Great. He could provide that.

  Lauren? Shit, who knew what she wanted?

  Not him.

  After that first meeting where he scared her, she got it that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He worked for the husband of her best friend. But she sure as hell didn’t look at his dick and curl her finger at him.

  And then, it was the damndest thing. She started...talking to him. Asking his opinions on things, things he knew nothing about. He answered in as few words as possible but she pondered them carefully, those gorgeous blue-gray eyes that turned silver in sunlight watching him carefully.

  Nobody really listened to Jacko except teammates and then the topic was usually shooting. Sometimes tactics and strategy, for a change of pace. Bikes, too, because Jacko was a known expert.

  But Lauren talked to him about everything after she got over her fear of him. And she listened to what he had to say. He found he really liked that. He also found that he’d rather spend one minute talking to Lauren about anything at all than spend hours fucking someone else.

  So getting to talk to her was already better than anything else that had ever happened to him and shit, now he was kissing her.

  She tasted so delicious. He breathed her in, nose next to a satiny cheek. He licked slowly in her mouth and stiffened when she stroked her tongue over his. Jesus! He had to tighten his groin muscles because he nearly came. Like some randy teenager about to pop his cherry.

  This was not good if a kiss made his dick twitch, hard.
He couldn’t touch her anywhere except her mouth. Not yet anyway, not until he got himself under control. But fuck, how was he supposed to do that?

  He pulled away slightly and looked down at her. His hands were planted on either side of her head. He had big, strong hands. And he was really excited. Couldn’t touch her right now, didn’t dare.

  She looked up at him, her face mere inches from his. He’d never been so close to her before. She was so amazingly beautiful. Even up close her skin was perfect, smooth and pale, now slightly pink. Luscious mouth swollen from his kiss. Her eyes were an incredible silver blue with that dark blue rim and they flashed light as she shifted them left to right and back, reading his face. He always had the impression that she could see right into his head, which scared him. But didn’t scare him enough to walk away.

  “I was hoping you’d do that,” she whispered.

  “Do what?”

  “Kiss me.” She gave a small smile, watching his eyes. “I planned for it while we were crossing town but couldn’t figure out how to do it. How to ask you.”

  It took a second for the words to penetrate. “You were planning how to get me to kiss you?”

  She nodded, never taking her eyes from his.

  “Breathing did the trick.” She could look all she wanted—all she’d see was the truth. “And you didn’t have to ask after all.”

  She could feel that. He was leaning against her. Not with all his weight, but he was close enough for her to feel his hard-on. It was massive and it freaking hurt. Every night since he met her that he hadn’t had sex was now very present; he was feeling all those nookyless nights like one huge mountain. It felt like he’d never had sex before. He was going to have to play this carefully because, right now? He wanted to throw her to the ground, run his hands up her legs, with the silky material of her skirt riding his hands, rip her panties open and slide right into her.

  Her eyes widened because he must be pumping testosterone into the air by the ton. He was breathing heavily, every single muscle tense.

  He had to do something, fast. He didn’t want to scare her. Of all the women in the world, this was the one he wanted to treat like a queen. He wanted to worship her, pet her gently all over, coax her into his bed. And at the same time he wanted to fuck her senseless.

  So, yeah, control was key.

  Jacko was all about control. You don’t pass BUD/S without huge amounts of self-control. But right now it was slipping through his fingers, draining his head, inflating his dick.

  Slow, he told himself. This has to be slow. Because though the images running through his head were definitely X-rated, Lauren hadn’t actually signaled that they were going to have sex. They’d kissed. That was it. So before he strategized how he was going to have sex with her without going wild maybe he should try to find out if he was going to have sex at all.

  It would kill him if she said no. He was as worked up as he’d ever been in his life. But if she said no, he’d accept that and...go out and shoot himself.

  “Do you—” His voice was hoarse. “Do you want to sit down? Talk?”

  Her eyes were still searching his, flashing silver in the dim light. “Actually, um...” She turned a bright red. “I was wondering whether you want to make love.”

  Hell yeah! Jacko stifled the shout in his throat because, well. Screaming probably wouldn’t do it for her. So he cleared his throat and scanned his empty mind for something to say that wasn’t hell yeah. “Yes,” he said. “I’d, uh, like that.”

  Like he liked breathing.

  “Okay.” She relaxed, smiled a little. She’d been worried he’d say no? It flashed on him that being so aroused around her all the time had made him stiff. In all senses. And maybe she’d interpreted that as indifference.

  He wasn’t indifferent. Man, no way. It was as if she walked around with a big red arrow pointing at her from the sky. Spotlit by a light so bright it hurt his eyes and he couldn’t look at her directly.

  She was still watching him, a little frown now between her eyebrows. Moving carefully, Jacko reached out and smoothed it out with his thumb. He didn’t want her frowning because he was being a jerk. No, sir.

  “Kiss me,” he said and she frowned again.

  “What?”

  “Kiss me.” He needed to hand her a little power.

  She smiled again, faintly. Man, he wanted to see huge smiles on her face, wanted to see her sated and happy, having had a million orgasms.

  She didn’t smile enough and he could never figure out why. They were going to have sex and he didn’t want sadness in the bed, no sir. He wanted joy and heat.

  She cupped his face, still watching his eyes closely as if checking to make sure he didn’t escape. He didn’t move, barely breathed. Her hand felt soft and warm against his cheek.

  “Kiss me,” he said again. Putting everything in her hands.

  He held himself still because he wanted to grab her, grab her hard. Right now, he was holding on to the wall and his self-control by his fingernails. She lifted herself on her toes to get closer to his mouth, pulling herself up by her hands on his shoulders. Her show, all the way. All Jacko did was stand there, fingers curved, holding on to the wall and to his control, trying not to groan when her hips rubbed his dick as she lifted herself up.

  She was a little clumsy, slightly missing the mark, kissing the corner of his mouth. He didn’t care. She could kiss any part of him because his entire body was now a huge erogenous zone. He’d read somewhere that the skin was the largest organ of the body, and he believed it because he could feel every inch of it, on fire. His dick was the second largest organ, it felt like.

  Then she got it right, tilting her head, her mouth perfectly aligned with his, open, warm, wet. When she licked his lips he once again nearly came.

  Shit, this wasn’t working. He was going to have to get naked fast because he did not want to come all over his tux trousers.

  Naked. With Lauren. The image in his head came fast, completely uncontrollable. The two of them naked, him on top, moving in and out of her, her pale slender legs hugging his hips...

  Whoa, again he pulled himself back just in time; one second more and he’d have disgraced himself. Though he wouldn’t have shot his wad, no no. Even if he’d come, he’d still be hard. It was entirely possible that he’d have wood for the rest of his natural life if what he was feeling right now was any indication.

  Not being aroused felt like an impossibility if Lauren was anywhere in the vicinity.

  She was making love to his mouth. That was the only term possible. On tiptoe, she moved her mouth over his, licking into his mouth, retreating to kiss a corner, coming back openmouthed for another deep kiss. He held himself still, willing himself to stillness when what he really wanted was to crush her against him so as much of her was touching as much of him as possible.

  Nice thought but the images in his head weren’t nice. They were on the edge of rough and he didn’t want that with Lauren. He didn’t want rough or hard. He wanted to be gentle because that’s the kind of woman she was but...it was like there was a hot wind in his head blanking out everything and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he could keep control.

  Which was crazy because Jacko was all about control.

  So he stood still, hands on her living room wall, moving only his lungs and his mouth.

  Lauren pulled away, dropped down. Looked at him uneasily.

  Shit. She thought he was uninterested. He wasn’t uninterested. His dick was radiating interest that could probably be picked up on the moon. But how could she know that? She’d just kissed a guy who barely responded.

  Jacko had a very specific skill set that came in really useful if you wanted to whack enemies of the state. Not so useful when it came to relationships.

  If he wanted this, he was going to have to go after it, and he had no clue how to do it.

  He pried one hand off the wall, with difficulty. As if he were Spider-Man and his Spidey-fingers were fixed to the wall. Slowly,
he brought his hand to her face, ran the back of his finger down her cheekbones. Jesus, her skin was so soft. How could anything human be this soft?

  Lauren was still looking at him uncertainly, a little frown between her eyebrows. He smiled, wondering if it was an okay smile. He showed teeth; was that enough? He was trying to regulate his features while regulating his breathing and his dick and it was like patting his head and rubbing his stomach at the same time. Because all his attention was on her, on the pale oval of her face, the feel of her against him, small breasts against his chest, moving as she breathed.

  She sighed, breasts rubbing against him again and he swelled. Lauren’s eyes opened wide, flashing silver.

  “Yeah,” he said. There was no filter in his head. He usually measured every word he spoke but now his mouth opened and what was in his head just popped out. “You breathing has that effect on me. Everything you do is such a turn-on I’m scared...” He drew in a deep breath himself and felt every inch of her along his front. “I’m scared I’m going to come.”

  “You want me,” she whispered.

  He blinked, swallowed. A thousand words tangled in his throat and only one came out, and it came out in a croak. “Yeah.” He pressed his lower body against hers. “I, um, I thought you could tell.”

  She’d lost that slightly anxious look and gave a small smile. “I mean, you want me. As opposed to a generic woman.”

  A generic woman. Weird way to put it. Right now, Jacko couldn’t remember what any woman he’d ever met looked like. He got as far as one head, two arms, two legs and then blanked out. There was only Lauren and he knew every single specific for her. The way her eyes flashed silver in a certain kind of light. The way her skin glowed as if she were lit from within. That delicate little knob at the corner of her narrow wrists. How her hands were so slender and how the tendons on the back of her hand danced when she drew. How she could blind him with her smile yet her eyes always remained slightly sad.

  He remembered every single word she’d ever said to him.