Page 23 of Unlocked Desire: Vol One

I wasn't sure what Lip was saying. His words were confusing, and so were my emotions. But when I turned and saw Jack going wild, I knew if he didn't stop, he might end up killing that frat kid.

"Jack," I shouted, but the music was far too loud for him to hear me. I wasn't sure if I should touch him, but I sure as fuck couldn't risk him killing someone for me, so I took hold of my fear and placed my hand on his shoulder. Something about my touch made him freeze, giving me the courage to bend and whisper in his ear. "Please stop."

Jack got up, took my hand, and dragged me out of the bar, with Lip following behind. He didn't say anything; he just opened the car door and buckled me in the back seat before getting in the passenger seat.

When Lip got in the car, Jack finally spoke. "No one touches what's ours."

"Fuckin' right," Lip said, revving up the car.

"Excuse me?" I said, trying to process everything that had happened.

Lip barked out a laugh. "You heard him. No one fucks with what belongs to us."

I probably should have been scared or rolled out of the moving car, but the truth was, I did belong to them, and they belonged to me. That was a truth that I couldn't deny, even if I wanted to. I liked being theirs; the fact was, I was relieved that I didn't have to choose because there was no way I ever could.

A loud thud at the front door took me out of my memories, and I saw Jack stumbling along the wall. I rushed to him and noticed his hand; the knuckles were bruised, cut up, and raw-looking. Blood splattered his face, jacket, and jeans.

"What happened? My hands urgently roamed his body, ensuring he wasn't seriously injured. "Dammit, Jack, answer me. What the fuck happened?"

He stared into my eyes so intensely that I felt like I'd fallen down a hole and would never get out. His thumb brushed against my bottom lip. "Watch your mouth."

I ignored his bossy tone; he had a thing about me swearing. He didn't like it unless it was in bed, where he wanted my mouth as dirty as possible. "Don't give me that. What happened?"

He pulled the tie of my robe, leering at my naked body. "You get fucked?"

I was so frustrated, standing there worried about how battered and bruised he was while he tried to change the subject, something he always did when he didn't want to talk about something important. He distracted me with talk of sex. It usually worked. Something about how he looked at me made me feel so desirable as if nothing in the world was more attractive than me.

He pulled me to him, his rough hands making wetness pool at my center. That was all my men had to do—touch me—and I was revved up and ready to go.

"You trying to change the subject with sex?"

"No, I just need to fuck you. I need to be buried so deep in your warmth that I forget every fuckin' shitty thing that's ever happened in my life."

Jack turned me around as the robe slipped off my shoulders and pooled by my feet.

"Jack, can you please talk to me?" I begged as his rough hands moved up my body and grabbed my breasts.

"Fuck, your tits are so perfect." He squeezed them before his fingers found my nipples. He knew how sensitive my nipples were. His touch caused them to pucker and stand at attention.

I knew I should make him stop, make him sit at the kitchen table and talk to me, but his touch made me forget all sense of reality. I only wanted to make him feel good in any way I could. If that meant with my body, so be it.

Jack pushed me against the wall. "Are you wet, baby?"

He didn't wait for my answer; his hand roamed down my body, and his fingers parted my folds as he began the slow torture of barely touching my clit.

"Why don't you find out?" I challenged.

Jack growled in my ear before taking my clit between his thumb and forefinger and pinching.

I moaned into the wall. It hurt, but in a good way; the pain was primal. Animalistic. That was Jack as a lover, but it was so sexy. He nipped my shoulders passionately, his kisses feral, alternating between tenderness and violent bites that told me how desperate he was for me. How much he needed me. Sex was how Jack dealt with his emotions. When he was happy, he was gentle. When he was angry, he was more aggressive. Either way, I loved it. I loved him.

Jack’s fingers moved to my asshole, touching me gently as if asking for permission.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes," he whispered against my skin.

"Then do it."