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She twisted again, rocking her hips as well, driving herself down on him, pressing her clit against his pubic bone, getting exactly the right pressure. A deep groan tore from his mouth into hers, and he pulled on the nipple still clamped in his fingers.
It all hurt—and that was the real, physical difference happening. This was the first time sex with Jake had hurt. Just a little, just enough. The pain was perfect. He wasn’t really causing her pain—he was replacing it. Filling her up with something good, leaving no room for anything else.
Exactly what she’d needed.
As that thought swirled like a fog and filled her head, Jake slammed into her again, deeper yet, and let loose a long, feral grunt. Petra came undone at once, her nerves firing wildly, her body clenching around him even as she lost control of her limbs.
Jake went tense, flattening her on the wall, his fingers contracting, digging into her ass, her breast, his face pressed so hard to her shoulder she could feel his clenched teeth, though he wasn’t biting her.
They came down from the peak together, their bodies softening as they held each other. Petra was vaguely surprised to remember they were in her shower. When Jake lifted his head, she brushed his wet hair back, smoothed the droplets from his cheeks, his brows, his nose, his mouth.
He pursed his lips against her fingertips and asked, “Okay?”
She nodded—and then realized it was true. The anger was gone. Sorrow pulsed in her chest like an abscess, but the rage was gone. In its place was Jake. She was full of him.
“I love you,” she whispered as her fingers traced the angles of his handsome face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” Jake returned.
I know I’m not leaving you alone, her father had written. And he was right. He hadn’t yet met Jake, but something in the way she’d spoken about him must have made it clear how important Jake was. How much she loved him.
Her father hadn’t abandoned her. He’d left her in good hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Hey, JJ,” Eight Ballsaid as Jay took his seat at the table. “Glad you could join us.”
Halfway into his seat, Jay paused and shot a glance at the president. Was he in trouble?
He’d missed church one time, the most recent meeting, right before Eight, Mav, Dex, and Apollo rode west to California to check out the club in Eureka. He’d missed it because Petra needed him—and he’d called in to let Eight know.
Yes, he’d also missed a couple weeks of shifts at the station, the weeks right after her dad offed himself, and he’d ducked out of security work and short runs to stay close in case she still needed him, but he’d thought everybody was cool with it—that they’d all understood.
He hadn’t missed a gun run, though he’d be okay not to be on the next one. Petra was doing a lot better, but he’d rather stay close. She still had bad days sometimes—like a few days earlier, when she’d come back from her dad’s house, gone straight to the bathroom, and stood in the shower for like ten minutes crying so hard and loud she was screaming.
Until she was back doing her life, the things she enjoyed, Jay wouldn’t be enthusiastic about going farther than half an hour from her. He’d thought the club understood.
Maybe they did. Maybe Eight had meant ‘glad you could join us’ seriously. But he was a sarcastic asshole, so it felt a lot more likely that Jay was in trouble. Again. Even when he was trying to do everything right, somebody found something wrong with him.
He finished sitting his ass down. “Is there a problem?” he asked, trying not to sound defensive or aggressive.
Before Eight could answer, Maverick stepped in. “No problem. Right now, there’s room for you to put family first. It’d be good to get back on the schedules, though. Not just the station, but runs, too. Your miles are low this year, Jay. Pay attention to that.”
“I’m on it. Things are getting better.”
