Rules of Protection(70)

Caught in a snarl of flying fists and broken beer bottles, I scrambled to get off the dance floor. Not knowing where the others were, I grabbed the keys to the Explorer from our table. Then Jake and Cowboy elbowed their way through the crowd. As they reached me, I got a good look at their faces and gasped.

Jake’s cheek was red and already bruising, his right eye almost swollen shut, and his knuckles on both hands were bleeding. Cowboy looked worse. I’d swear his nose hadn’t been that flat before, and he had blood splatters on the front of his shirt.

“Are you okay? Hey, wait—”

Jake scooped me up and dragged me out, kicking and screaming. When we reached the parking lot, he dropped me—literally—on the ground. He jerked the Explorer keys from my hand and tossed them to Cowboy.

“Walk it off,” Cowboy said to Jake. “Tar and feathers are your best option.” Then Cowboy got into the Explorer and drove away.

Jake paced as I got up and dusted myself off. “What the hell is your problem?”

He stopped and leaned into my face, his crazed eyes chock-full of anger, his voice cold as ice. “Shut. Up.”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

He put his hand over my mouth. “Stop talking.” With a bruising grip, Jake pulled me to the side of the building where he’d parked and crammed me into the old pickup, slamming the door. The window was down, so I heard his frustration as he grumbled and kicked the fender. I tried to get back out, but he pushed the door closed again. “Emily, you don’t want to test me right now. Keep your ass in the truck.”

“Jake, this is stupid—”

“Damn you, Emily! I’ve never put my hands on a woman before, but you have me very close to doing it. Stay in the truck and shut your f*cking mouth!”

The enforcement in his coarse voice shocked me. I guess now I know what Cowboy meant by tar and feather being Jake’s best option. I crossed my arms as he paced some more. Okay, so I pushed him too far this time. I hadn’t meant to, but I had a hard time controlling myself where Jake was concerned. No matter how good my intentions were, I always seemed to screw everything up.

Ten long minutes later, he decided to get in the truck. I sat in silence, thinking he’d apologize for the way he spoke to me. All he said was, “Buckle up.”

It was probably the alcohol talking, but my irritation came out full force. “Are aliens going to snatch me if I don’t?”

Though I wasn’t sure he would, he kept his cool. “It’s the law.”

“You going to arrest me?”

He gritted his teeth. “Goddamnit. You should’ve come with an instruction manual. For once, take responsibility for your actions, stop being difficult, and buckle the damn seatbelt.”

“If you want it buckled, do it yourself.”

Jake catapulted across the seat, grabbed my shoulders, and shook me. His lightning fast reflexes and the strength of his hands made my body tremble violently. He focused on me with eyes of a predator. I froze in place, like a skittish bunny, not sure if I should run like hell. He was dealing with his demons, and this was a side of Jake I hadn’t seen before.

Slowly, he loosened his grip and his mouth softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His words had softened, but the intensity of his gaze confused me. It wasn’t guilt, but something else. I was clueless to know what Jake was thinking, but the visual cues were there. He wasn’t trying to defuse the situation any longer. His eyes were those of an aggressor.

A sexual charge pressed into the air around us, making it harder for me to breathe. I gulped shallow breaths, savoring them as if they were the last bits of oxygen I’d receive before Jake smothered me with his overwhelming male presence.

He gave no warning. Jake captured my waist, pulling me closer, only to shove me onto my back before positioning himself between my legs. I should’ve been frightened, but how he handled me was wickedly sexy. Instead of fear, my stomach fluttered with anticipation.

He took my lips forcefully, bruising them. With intense carnal gratification in mind, he yanked the front of my dress down to my waist and cupped my breasts with rough hands. Jake moved lower, my nipples hardening in his mouth. My body responded in a frenzy, arching under him, twitching with pleasure.

Jake sensed what I wanted, giving it before I asked. No words of passion, no gentleness in his eyes, no softness in his touch. Like being tickled too hard—it might hurt a little, but you can’t stop laughing with enjoyment. Even if I had wanted to, it would’ve been impossible to resist.

A low moan escaped my lips, pushing him over the edge. Grunting, Jake fumbled to loosen his zipper with quivering, unsteady hands. He was ready to unleash the primal urge building inside him. The stingy, inadequate foreplay didn’t matter. To him, or to me. I wanted him to take what he needed and would ask nothing in return.

Fully aware of the alignment issues, Jake pulled off my heels and threw them onto the floorboard. He sat upright and repositioned, pulling me astride. Having sex in the front seat of a pickup is like trying to get a cushion cover back on the couch pillow after it’s been laundered. It’s a tight squeeze with a lot of grunting, but not impossible.

His fingers dug into my back with need and fervor. His rock solid erection pressed into my inner thigh, throbbing and hot. His tongue found its way back into my mouth with unstoppable passion.