Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (18 page)

Her derisive snort was accompanied with a side kick. “And you need to take your meds,
coglione
.”

His Spanish was good enough to understand her Italian. And she was not flattering him. Not in the least.

“Cazzo.”
Dick.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

“Vaffanculo, arrogante.”
Up yours, smart-ass.

“And fucking sexy, pet.”

“Stronzo.”

This insult he didn’t know.

“What?”

“Ass!” Hit. “Hole!” Hit.

Any person without his sharp reflexes would have been decked.

“I think I’ll give you a mouthpiece.” She wouldn’t be able to talk. Although he loved her talking.

“Just try it.”

The AC was off and they were both sweating. Elle’s T-shirt was wet and clinging to her chest, her nipples tenting the material, more so with every ragged breath.

She was a sight to behold. The right amount of muscles and curves. Big boobs. Long, powerful, sexy legs. Gorgeous, mouthwatering ass. In-your-face, catch-me-if-you-can attitude.

Jack hated superfit women. Or even worse, skinny as hell. All those bones sticking him. He liked to have somewhere to grab, and Elle had plenty in the right places.

“This time we’ll do it this way; we’ll blow off steam fighting. Next time I’ll fuck you until you can’t move. Same workout, more pleasure.”

She snorted. “Dream on. There won’t be next time. I’m done with you. You’re too high-maintenance.”

“I say when we are done and we are not. Not by a long shot. You’ve been taunting me for months. Years, pet. Now that you got my undivided attention, you can’t say you don’t want it. You can’t back down. I won’t allow you to. You’ve been asking for it. For me. This is what you get: me. I’ll tie you down and fuck you so thoroughly you will be limp by the time I’m done with you.”

And ruined for anybody else. The thought of her with another man made his blood boil, so he shook his head. He had to let that go. Whatever she did once he was gone was not his business. Not. His. Business.

If he repeated it long enough, maybe he’d believe it too.

“Bastardo despota.”

Despotic bastard. Good one.

“Prepotente.”
Punch.
“Troglodita.”
Punch.

Jack smiled. “I think I’m going to have a little talk with your Italian teacher.”

More leg kicks. She was extremely good.

“Where did you learn to fight?”

“None of your business,” she said breathing hard and brushing with her forearm the damp locks of hair that got stuck on her face. “You don’t tell me about yourself, I won’t tell about myself either.”

“I should have figured you would be great at fighting. Fighting is like fucking, and you’re fantastic at that.”

She smiled sarcastically. “That makes one of us.”

Smart-ass.

“You need to fight. Fight me all you want; you won’t win. It will just make you hotter for me. Wetter. I can take on whatever it is you will dish at me and not budge an inch.”

“Not budge an inch,” she repeated mockingly. “Is that supposed to be a turn-on? Because it is not.”

Liar. He threw the paddles to the canvas and, cupping her neck, brought her to him and took her mouth, his tongue thrusting ruthlessly. Possessively. He needed her so much. Backing her into one corner, he lifted her against the ropes.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he released her lips.

“Fucking you.”

“You said next time.”

“I lied,” he said, dragging his teeth along her throat, nipping and sucking her damp skin. He was taking a huge risk. She was very capable of beating the shit out of him now that he had his hands busy and couldn’t protect himself.

She seemed to consider that option for a second, but then said, “Help me with the gloves.”

He held her up, pressing his lower body against her, and made quick work of one glove. Once she had one hand free, she took care of the other while he was busy getting rid of her T-shirt. All the pent-up desire that had accumulated sparring was spiraling out of control and he couldn’t wait to have her.

“Floor,” he growled, lowering them both to the mat and stripping her of her pants, her scent filling his nostrils.

She was wet, the moisture dripping from her smooth pussy lips. She wanted him. Badly. Good, because he was dying to fuck her. But before, he needed her taste on him.

“I love that your pussy is bare. I would have taken care of it myself if it wasn’t,” he said hoarsely, spreading her legs, watching as her inner folds fluttered.

“You’ll get to wax my pussy the day I get to shave your balls with a rusty knife, sunshine.” Her breath was labored, her voice choppy, but she gave him attitude. She was creaming for him and giving him attitude. So damn sexy.

“Fuck yourself against my mouth. Show me how much you want me.”

“Stop talking and lick me,” she ordered.

He loved her fire. Her hand was buried in his hair and she arched her back, lifting her hips to get him deeper.

Not shy, his pet.

He placed his hands on her inner thighs, immobilizing her legs and raked his teeth over her mound, teasing her entrance with his tongue. “Show me your tits.”

“Jack—“ she let out impatiently.

“If you want head, you’ll show me your tits. Play with your nipples. You stop, I stop.”

“Control freak,” she muttered, but she lifted her bra and staring at him defiantly, pinched the hard tips, her whole body jerking, her pussy contracting.

Fuck, such a turn-on. His woman open for him to do as he pleased, whimpering from need. Drenched. Touching herself.

He ate her out with a desperation that he himself didn’t understand, sucking her plushy folds and working her gorgeous clit, using his fingers to stretch her, while she moaned and bucked against his face, stroking her tits, liquid heat flooding her pussy.

He would have loved to make her spill in his mouth and make her beg for him to let her come, but he couldn’t pull that stunt off. Couldn’t wait a second more, so he yanked his pants down and loomed over her.

He needed to be inside her when she exploded. Deep inside her. Feeling her orgasm in every inch of his cock.

She seemed to agree. Grabbing handfuls of him, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, crying out as he rammed inside her, her taut flesh bathing him in instant heat.

“Fuck me hard,” she demanded against his ear. “Make me come.”

God, she was his wet dream come true. Her core was extremely tight, but she was taking all of him. And asking for more.

Pressing his hand against her ass, he obliged her and pushed in and out, giving her his cock again and again, so deep inside he could feel her heartbeat.

She gripped his hair and pulled his head up, looking him straight in the eye. “When we’re done,” she let out in broken pants, withstanding his savage thrusts, “you can go back to doing as you want; until then, I’m the only one who fucks you. I’m the only one who touches you. Are we clear?”

Fuck. Throwing his words back at him while taking his cock. Jack had to grit his teeth not to blow on the spot, especially as she lost it and came, her pussy clutching him so hard it left him without breath.

He needed a bit of distance or she was going to drag him with her. And he didn’t want this to finish, not yet.

While she was still orgasming, he got out of the boxing ring and, pulling her by her legs, yanked her to the edge, her ass in midair.

“Hold on to the ropes. This is going to be a rough ride.”

And it was. He took her hard while she moaned and thrashed, giving as good as she got, making her explode again before letting go and coming himself.

He wasn’t sure how—heck he might have blacked out, but when he floated back to reality, they were both sprawled inside the boxing ring, bathed in sweat. His throat felt raw and he couldn’t move. Jesus, having sex with Elle got better and better.

“I know you don’t know shit about me, but you need to understand I don’t cheat. Ever.” He didn’t get cheating. Despised cheaters. A man who couldn’t pledge himself to a woman and maintain his promise was not a man, but a spineless moron. “If I had a wife, I would sleep every night by her side. I would never stray.”

“Good to know,” she whispered.

“I have experience with kids because since the day Ronnie was born, I cared for her. There wasn’t a responsible adult around, so I learned pretty fast.”

They were seven years apart. He’d fed her, clothed her. Read to her and corrected her homework. Looked after her. Taken all the beatings himself to make sure nothing happened to her. Stayed in that hellhole of a home for years and years so that he could protect her, until he’d been old enough and had enough resources to take her with him.

“You grew up together?” Elle asked, surprise and dread and fear marring her face. “In the same place where you got those burns?”

Jack nodded. “I made sure she never got any.”

“And your dad?”

“Small-time crook. Not better than the guys that came after, or Ronnie’s dad, who bailed out before she was born.”

“Bailing out on your pregnant woman. Very classy. A real stand-up dude.”

“Hate to defend the scumbag, but I doubt he knew. My mother found out when her water broke. She’d been too high to wonder before.”

She closed her eyes, grimacing. “God.”

Nope, God had been nowhere to be seen. “Ronnie is all I have.”

Elle was quiet for a long time before speaking again. “You ordered me to stay in the truck because you didn’t want me to meet her.”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” He didn’t want Elle in his life. Didn’t want to get used to her. That meant keeping her as far away as possible from his home, his bar, and his sister. And his heart. Especially his heart.

Her smile was sad and resigned. “I’m not used to the man I’m screwing being ashamed of me, but at least you’re honest.”

“Not ashamed, pet. Not by a long shot.”

She needed an explanation; he could see it in her hurt eyes, but he didn’t give it to her. It would just make matters worse.

It was very easy to miss things if one got used to having them and caring for them. He couldn’t afford that.

“Come on, let’s get dressed and go home.”

She didn’t fight him.

* * * *

Jack parked in front of her place, turned off the engine, and looked at her. She’d been quiet during the ride back, like the rounds of sex and sparring had sucked the energy out of her.

“Do you mind if we sit for a second?” She didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to get home, as if she needed a strength she didn’t have now to enter that house.

Jack glanced toward the property. “Why do you live here?”

She shrugged. “I have to live somewhere, don’t I? Quite a place the V-2,” she added, changing the subject. “Rough crowd. It suits you.”

His snort was dry. “I wanted a bakery.”

“What?”

“I wanted a bakery. A local nice little shop in suburbia, where carpool moms could spend their afternoons eating pastries and drinking lattes. Ronnie was going to run it. I had everything planned, but I had to leave for work, so I left my sister in charge. When I came back Ronnie had opened a biker bar.”

Elle broke into laughter. “I like her.”

They hadn’t had much time to talk, and what little they had, Elle had spent apologizing to Ronnie, but he had no doubt they would get along.

Ignoring how in the open they were, and how unwise this was, Jack reached for her and lifted her onto his lap. He swept his thumb over her luscious lips. “In V-2, you were jealous.”

Elle nodded. “I am a very jealous person. You ought to remember that. Especially if you are emotionally attached to your dick and intend to keep it.”

“I’d like to keep it, yes.”

“Then it should stay in your pants. Or inside me.”

He barked out a laugh. So much sass.

“That made me feel ten feet tall,” she said, her eyes soft.

“What?”

“That honest-to-God laugh.” She caressed his face, as if trying get rid of the frown lines. “You don’t always need to be alert. You can relax.”

“If you want me to relax, then you should be caressing something else.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “I can’t believe you want more,” she said, gently pressing herself against him. “After the boxing ring?”

Jack didn’t need any recovery time whatsoever, not with Elle by his side. “Of this sweet pussy? Absolutely I want more.” Always. All the time.

“Next visit to the gym, I’ll be on top. I have boxing-ring burn in my back.”

“Sorry.”

She winked mischievously. “That’s all right. They match the scratches on yours.”

They stared at each other for a long second.

“I know you don’t know shit about me,” she whispered his words back at him. “But you need to understand I don’t cheat either. Ever. I flirt and I like to party, true, but I’m very aware of where the limits are. No one but the man I’m with touches me.”

Jack did know lots about her, but he said nothing, just nodded. Cupping his face, Elle brushed her lips with his, running her tongue along the seam of his mouth before sweetly kissing him.

“You taste like me,” she whispered.

“Does it bother you?”

She shook her head. “What surprises me is that it doesn’t seem to bother you. Men like you don’t strike me as enjoying eating pussy.”

“You’d be wrong, then. A man who doesn’t go down on his woman is not a man. He’s a moron who has no clue what he’s missing.”

“Amen.” She continued kissing him, slowly rubbing against his throbbing erection.

“You have a rather exhibitionist streak in you, pet.”

She giggled. “Yep, I’m discovering I have, but you’re the one who fucked me in a public gym and just lifted me to your lap.”

“Tinted windows.”

“Oh, in that case, after you ate my pussy and nailed me in a public gym, maybe it’s time I return the favor, and you know, suck your cock and fuck you in the car.”

Jesus Christ.

Her little hands reached for his zipper, but she didn’t get too far, because from the corner of his eye Jack saw the neighbor walking toward them with a thermos. He hoisted her up and got them out of the truck. “You are not sucking my cock with Mrs. Copernicus looking out the fucking window.”