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“Fuck indeed,” Jett smirks. “Step aside. The girl and the dog are coming with me.”
“You think they won’t send more, Jett? You’re fucked. We’ll hunt you into the grave. You know that. One man can’t stand up to an army.”
“We’ll see about that. Now, do as you’re fucking told.”
He must twist his prisoner’s arm even more, because he lets out an animal whine and screams, “Do it, Markus, fuck, do it.”
“Don’t use my name, you fucking idiot,” the man called Markus snarls.
“Come on, Juliana,” Jett says, his eyes flitting to me, those stark blues that seemed to stare through me at the party. “You’re safe now. These bastards know better than to test my patience.”
I glance at the masked man, who’s inched to the edge of the room, his back pressed against the wall. But he’s still got that garroting wire in his hands.
Jett must see me looking. He nods briefly.
“Drop the wire and lie on the floor,” he commands.
“You’ve got to be kidding—”
Jett’s prisoner lets out a hollow yelp of pure agony at the snap noise.
“He’s still got nine fingers left,” Jett snarls. “I can do this all damn night. Move. Now.”
The man drops the wire, grumbling something under his breath, and then falls heavily to his knees. He curses quietly as I carry Rebel past him, hardly believing that this is real.
I walk into the hallway and then Jett roughly pushes the man into my bedroom, shutting the door behind them. He springs over to my couch – moving so fast for a man of his size it’s difficult to comprehend – and lifts it up as though it weighs nothing.
He wedges it against the doorway and then takes my hand.
His touch is as fire-hot as I remember, triggering out-of-place emotions to surge through me considering the circumstances.
I want him. I want his babies. I want to be his.
Not now, I warn myself. Heck, not ever.
“Come on,” Jett snarls. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Chapter Five
Jett
I drive through the night, the city still flooded with the artificial light of diners and convenience stores and clubs and apartment windows.
Juliana sits beside me in the same body hugging clothes she was wearing at the ball. Or maybe the clothes don’t hug her body. Maybe I just see her form pressing through the fabric, calling to me in a primal howl, telling me that this woman is worth the risk and the danger of going to war.
Even now – when I should be focused on the job – I have to squeeze the steering wheel hard to stop myself from reaching over and grabbing onto those full thighs of hers.
I’d drag my hand roughly up, making her feel every passion filled inch of my course to her sex, and then I’d tickle and rub and palm until she’s good and wet for me, and then – when she’s soaked, when she’s flooded and needy – I’d bend her over and slam into her eager cunt.
Fuck, I need to focus.
Being around her clouds my thoughts like nothing else ever has.
I’m glad she’s got her dog in her lap, meaning I can’t act on these desires.
“It’s okay, girl,” Juliana whispers, rubbing her hand over her dog’s ear, over and over like some sort of meditation. “Jett, what’s happening? Why did those men want to … Oh, God …”
She coughs back a sob, but then it shatters somewhere deep in her throat. She lets it out, tears glinting brightly in the moonlight on her cheeks, leaning down to better hug her dog.
I’m stunned when I reach over and touch her shoulder, giving her what little comfort I can offer. I’ve never known how to soothe crying women.
Shit, I’ve never wanted to.
But Juliana is my woman, and no bastard should make my woman cry.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her firmly. “I’m going to protect you. I swear. I swear on my goddamned life.”
“But why?” she blurts. “I don’t understand any of this. Where are we even going?”
“Someplace safe,” I tell her. “Someplace we can lie low for the night. While we figure out what the fuck we’re going to do.”
“Please explain, Jett,” she sobs.
I must be one sick bastard – or maybe it’s just how irresistible she is – but when she sobs, it causes her breasts to jiggle up and down.
It drives me insane, how fleshy and full they are, bouncing the same way they will when I drive my manhood up between her desire soaked thighs.
I turn my gaze back to the road when the light changes color, making my way to the dockyard where my safe house is, the one I’ve never told anybody about. I pray it hasn’t been compromised.
“Jett?” she snaps, fierceness entering her sobbing voice.
I sigh grimly.
I’ve never talked about my business with a civilian before. But she’s not just anybody.
