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“I can handle her myself.”
“I’m well aware of how capable you are, Trinity. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you. I love you, sweetheart,” she said softly.
But then her green gaze got distracted, and I glanced down to where she was looking at my arm. Little lines of blood had trailed down my forearm. I was surprised the elevator didn’t begin to vibrate from the sudden tension that poured off my aunt. “Marcus, once you drop the box off in Trin’s office, I want you to track down the crack whore and escort her to my son-in-law’s office so Jarrett Dawson can deal with his ex-wife personally. Because if he doesn’t, I will.”
“Aunt Emmie, it’s not necessary. Jarrett doesn’t need to be bothered with her attempt to intimidate me,” I tried to argue, but she tilted her head and gave me the same look that could cause grown men to piss their pants. I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Just let her go back to Texas. If she bothers my family again, I’ll deal with her myself.”
“I would have been happy to allow her to do just that, sweet Trinity,” Aunt Emmie murmured, touching a fingertip to one of the scratches on my arm. It was sore and more than a little tender. Unprepared, I was unable to hide my flinch, which only caused her green eyes to flash like pyres with rage. “But then she made you bleed. That nullifies her option of living a peaceful life from here on out.”
Chapter 4
Jarrett
Stepping off the elevator, I made a right and walked to the end of the corridor. Without bothering to knock, I opened the door, and only when I saw Trinity sitting behind her desk was I able to catch my breath.
Her head snapped up at the sudden intrusion into her personal space, but when her gaze landed on me, she began to smile.
Until she saw the wildness of my eyes, and she huffed. “I’m fine, Jarrett.”
“That’s not what I was told,” I gritted out, walking around the desk. When I saw the bandages on her arm, I fisted my hands. Reminding myself that Anya Vitucci was already on her way to deal with Mayra, I rolled Trinity’s chair back enough to pick her up.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I cradled the back of her head. “You should have called me as soon as you saw her.”
“Why?” she argued. “I’m a grown woman. If anyone should have been worried, it was Mayra. If Aunt Emmie hadn’t shown up when she did, I would have beat that bitch into next week. There was no need for you to even speak to your ex-wife.”
I could hear the strain in her voice that she tried to hide, but there was no missing the way her bottom lip pouted out in displeasure. “Wait.” I sat down in her chair and adjusted her on my lap so I could see her face better. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous I saw Mayra.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “If the roles were reversed, and I had to deal with one of my ex-boyfriends, would you—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, baby. Don’t go putting hypotheticals in my head that will only cause me to murder someone.” I cupped both sides of her face. “There hasn’t been anything between Mayra and me for over a decade. I told you I didn’t have a sex drive where she was concerned. There were only a few women before her, and only you since.”
Her nose scrunched up. “I just find that really hard to believe. From day one, you were like an animal with me. We had sex at least twice a day, every day for two months. Even with us not having sex since we were in Europe, you can’t stop touching me. If you start wearing flannel, I’m going to call you a lumberjack because of all the wood you sport. Hell, Jarrett, you are hard as a steel rod right now, and all I’ve done is sit on your lap.”
I shifted her so that she wasn’t pressed right into my erection, more for my sanity than discomfort. “If you gave me the green light right now, I’d already be balls deep inside you, sweet angel. But when I say that this only happens with you, I mean that it literally has only ever happened with you. Sex was boring and, therefore, pointless. It was why Mayra had to get me drunk both times she got pregnant. But with you?” I stroked the back of my hand down her cheek before tenderly grasping her throat. “All you have to do is look at me and I’m rock hard, baby. This dick belongs to you, right along with the rest of me. There is no one you should ever feel jealous of where I’m concerned. Because no one else exists for me.”
With my hand still around her throat, I watched as her pupils dilated. The tip of her tongue skimmed over her bottom lip, and I could tell she was fighting with herself over holding out on sex until we were officially married. “You can say I have no reason to be jealous, but my brain doesn’t understand those words. Sorry, but I’m always going to be possessive and not want anyone who has so much as fantasized about being fucked by you breathing the same air as you.”
Pulling her forward, I dropped my head to brush my lips over hers. “Then you can’t complain when I feel the same way about other men being around you.”
Her breath fanned across my mouth as she gasped for air. “I’ve never complained.”
“Lies,” I teased. “You give me shit about Tulsa all the fucking time.”
“Because he’s gay!” she cried, playfully slapping at my chest.
“Doesn’t matter. All my brain sees when I watch him flirt with you is someone with a dick between his legs who is making my woman laugh or smile or look at them. I can’t help that it makes me homicidal.”
“You are awful.” But she snuggled against my chest, laying her head on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Well, how did it go? Are you going to make her pay whatever penalty you decreed when you finalized the divorce for breaking the terms?”
I stroked my hand over the back of her head, combing my fingers through her long, dark hair. “My sweet girl,” I murmured, mentally shaking my head at what a lucky motherfucker I was to have found her. She’d given me a second chance after everything I’d put her through and made her experience alone. She was so damn strong, yet there was an innocence to her that I prayed she never lost. “Yes, baby. Mayra will have to pay a huge price for fucking around this morning. She knew the consequences, but in her tiny brain, she thought by using you to get to me and the kids, she wasn’t breaking the stipulations I’d insisted on. What she loses out on now is her own fault.”
With a heavy sigh, she lifted her head. “Let’s not tell the kids about this. It will only upset Maddie, and Banks gets just as growly as you do over the littlest things these days.”
“This was not a little thing. Mayra basically assaulted you.” I brushed my fingers over the bandages. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital. Get your wounds checked out. You might need stitches.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re barely scratches. My mom cleaned them, put some antibiotic ointment on them, and then bandaged me up. Trust me, she’s had to deal with worse scrapes than these when I was a kid. One time, we were all playing volleyball on the beach, and a piece of glass had washed up on shore and the sand was raked over it. I fell right on it and sliced my knee up so bad that my uncle Shane puked as soon as he saw me. My aunt Dallas had to clean it up and superglued the wound together before bandaging it.”
“Is that what this little scar is from?” I touched her jean-clad knee, my thumb brushing over where I remembered the little white line was. I remembered every mark on her body. Even her imperfections were perfect to me.
