“Yeah, you are sorry alright. A sorry sack of shit,” I correct, losing it as I lower him back to the ground and headbutt him right on the bridge of his nose, blood spurting everywhere as he tumbles to the ground in a heap.
“Get up so I can finish you off,” I command, but I got him too good, too square. He’s out cold.
I turn to look at Jewel, who’s expression has changed from one of complete fear to utter shock. All I can think of is how I want to march right over there and scoop her up in my arms and just hold her, hold her tight, and never let go. How I want to sit her on my lap and promise her that she’ll never feel this way again. She won’t even know the meaning of fear for the rest of her days, because as long as I’m alive I won’t allow it. And after I’m gone the sons she bears for me won’t allow it either.
As an older man, it’s hard to argue with the logic that one day I’ll be gone before her. And when that day comes our sons will have already been long-prepared to take care of their mother.
Yeah, that’s exactly what she’s going to be one day…soon. Mother to my children and my wife.
Just the thought of her being harmed right now expedites everything inside me. Moving closer I do exactly as I wanted, pulling her in close and her tiny little body melts perfectly into mine. Tilting my head down, way down to reach her, I kiss the top of that dark hair of hers, inhaling deep at the floral scent from her shampoo, or is that just the way she naturally smells. Either way, I’m fully intoxicated just from one whiff, and my dick lurches in my pants just how it was when I was inside the coffee shop.
I need to kiss her. I need to claim her. I need to make her mine.
I rake my hands through her hair and tilt her head back, her bright eyes looking up at me.
It’s time to show her who she belongs to. Forever.
5
Jewel
My entire body freezes at the realization that his lips are about to lock with mine. Although I’ve never been kissed before, I know that’s exactly what’s on his mind. Just as it’s been on mine for weeks.
I bite down on my lower lip and then run the tip of my tongue over my upper lip as I prepare for the inevitable. Coming up on my tiptoes I feel like a million hummingbirds are slamming into my ribcage, my heart pounding in anticipation.
I suck in a breath and take in his earthy scent. Working with all those gemstones all day, and around those machines, he uses to carve them, has him smelling like a campfire next to a babbling brook filled with polished stones from years and years of water flowing over them. I love that he smells so masculine, so fresh, and so natural at the same time. No cologne needed here.
His hand keeps my head tipped back as his other hand fin
ds my hip, the position of my bent body lifting my shirt just enough that if he so much as twitches his fingers, his skin will touch mine.
I want that because even through the fabric of my top I can make out his calloused fingertips which have goosebumps popping up like mushrooms after a spring rain. My pulse beats in my wrist, neck and call me crazy but I think I feel it in my legs too. My upper legs, very close to…there.
My knees feel like they’re about to give out as he growls, “A little girl like you shouldn’t be out here by herself, especially not at this hour.”
His body moves back and one of his feet follows, acting like a metaphorical pin popping a balloon and letting all the air out of it, and the wind out of my sails right along with it.
“Unless you’re planning on taking the trash out for me then I don’t really see how you have any say in the matter,” I cut back, releasing my aggression, frustration, and disappointment all in one sentence. I jerk my head to the side, letting him know his hands don’t belong on me…unless he plans on actually doing something with them, and with me.
“Little one, a grown man doesn’t need a reason to have a say in a matter that involves the safety of a girl.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me a girl!” I stomp my foot. “I’m an adult. A woman,” I huff.
“Okay, a woman then, but not one big enough from stopping herself from nearly getting raped by those two pieces of scum,” he says, and my eyes move to the two men who are still out cold.
I look back at him, his lips pierced and the corner of his eyes pulled back in extreme distaste as if just thinking about something like that happening to me is enough to make him empty his stomach onto the pavement.
“Well, I didn’t though. Thank you,” I say, trying to concede he’s right, at least a little bit, and not about to argue with the man who did just help me out of what was about to be a very, very bad situation.
“Barely,” he continues. “And I don’t want you to ever be in this position again. You can’t. I won’t allow it,” he growls.
“Like I said, unless you have solutions then there’s not much else to say. I appreciate your help. There’s no doubt you…” I fight back the words a bit, “you were a brave citizen acting as a hero and I thank you. And I’m fine.”
“A citizen? And you’re not fine.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“First of all, I’m not just a citizen, your words, not mine. That’s your first mistake. Your second is that you’re not fine. And, strike three…you can’t take care of yourself.”