But he just shakes his head and looks at the door. “You don’t give up easily. I’ll give you that. But don’t forget, curiosity killed the cat.”
I am curious. I want to know more. Need to know more, but I can see from the look in his eyes that this conversation if you can call it that, is over.
As much as I want him to show me everything, including that power by pressing me up against the wall and showing me just how strong and powerful he is, I know that’s not going to happen. He’s still in this paternal mindset, trying his damnedest to hold himself back from what he really wants. More. Everything.
But is everything I have really enough for him? Is a young girl, as he thinks of me, up for whatever it is he has to offer? Does he really believe I’m not capable of existing in his world or is it just the defense mechanism he’s using to keep himself from going after what he really wants?
“Jake, is that you?” Ella calls out and it’s only then I see the back door open and Ella’s arm is extended as she leans against the tall part of the door, trying to make her body look long and sexy.
“How long have you been standing there?” I snap at her.
“Long enough.”
I roll my eyes.
“Long enough that your break’s over. Time for me to take mine.”
“Remember what I said,” Jake adds, and then turns on his heel and moves toward the limp bodies lying on the concrete.
“Jake? Where are you going? It’s my turn to go on break. I’m gonna smoke a ciggy right here. It could be a good time to learn more about you. I’m interested.”
And I’m certainly not interested in standing around to listen to the desperation Cruella is throwing Jake’s way.
“I don’t know how you learned my name, but forget you ever heard it,” Jake growls, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something that I can’t quite distinguish. But Ramsay sure does, quickly moving toward Jake’s hand and it’s only then I realize he had a dog biscuit in his pocket. What the…? This big alphahole walks around with dog biscuits in his pocket? Not only that it doesn’t look like it broke when he was taking down those two guys.
Knocking out bad guys is one thing, and I’ll have to admit it was sexy as hell, turning me on more than I could have ever imagined. But indirectly showing me his soft side, especially in relation to animals, absolutely melts my heart.
I rush back inside and pull Jake’s tip money out of my pocket and put it in the register to cover the cost of a sandwich. Unwrapping it from the cellophane I’m back out in a flash, but Jake is already gone as I practically bump into Cruella.
“Where did he go?”
“He just dragged those guys around the corner and didn’t say anything,” she says in disbelief before her mood pivots on a dime. “Why do you care?”
I care because I want Jake Stone to be the one to drag me out of here, to throw me over his shoulder, and carry me back to his lair, caveman style to be exact.
And my opportunity of exactly that happening seems to have passed. Or did it…Daddy?
6
Jake
My bare fists slam into the oversized punching bag in my in-home gym over and over and over again.
I’ve got so much aggression that needs releasing, but no matter how hard I try I can’t get it done.
Part of me wanted to pound those guys until there was nothing left of them. But in today’s day and age, there are security cameras everywhere, and if I lost it and found myself in jail then the real problems would begin. Because I couldn’t be with her.
And that’s the real reason I keep throwing hands at the Everlast logo on the punching bag I had installed the first day I saw her. I’ve got to get this frustration out, although right now that frustration is aimed clearly at the man in the mirror.
How did I let that opportunity slip through my fingers? Damn, how bad did I want to just grab her, push her against that wall before jerking those Daisy Duke’s down, and plunging my thick inches deep into her tight opening? Real damn bad. I knew I couldn’t even so much as kiss her or all hell would break loose. Just one taste of her lips and there would be no stopping me, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve to be taken for the first time in an ally by a dumpster. Hell no.
I deck the bag one more time and then take a step back before leaning in and resting my forehead against the worn-out exterior material that I’ve been pummeling each and every day since her arrival into my life. I moan out loud, angry at the thought she’s not here with me right now, riding me bare, her body milking my cock for every last drop of seed inside me. Taking every bit of this load I’ve been saving for her and only her.
But it’s not that simple. I want to build up her life, not wreck it with my debaucherous desires for her.
I lean back and punch the bag again. “Mine,” I call out as if there’s anyone here to hear me. I’m still enraged at those assholes who thought they could so much as look at what’s mine. And even after I knocked them out cold, I tried to put my feelings for her on ice too, warning her off. But that’s just not possible anymore.
I was trying to tell her to stay away from me. I’m not right for her, but damn the feminine sound of her voice, like an angel playing the harp, just called out to me and I couldn’t look away. An angel playing the harp? What kind of words are these that are even going through my head right now?