Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (19 page)

Elle waved at the old lady and whispered to Jack, “I told you they take neighborhood watch very seriously.”

Once inside the house, Jack put her down and stared at her.

Under his gaze and with a wiseass smile on her face, she undressed and knelt in front of him, nuzzling his hard-on over his pants, those sweet little breaths of hers slamming against his cock.

He’d dreamed about this for-fucking-ever. Not sure he could survive it though.

She didn’t give him much choice, because before he could even gather his thoughts, she’d unzipped him and was licking his cock.

No matter how many times he’d dreamed about this, it didn’t even come close to the reality of having Elle at his feet, giving him head, her hands working his shaft while her mouth devilishly worked the crown, raking her teeth over his slit before taking him deep into her throat.

He was dressed and standing. She was naked, sucking his cock on her knees while he held her head, yet she was the one with all the power. And she knew it.

He forced her to let go of him and stand up.

“Hey!” she complained. “I was enjoying that.”

“I want to come inside you.”

“You would have,” she teased, making his erection jumped even more.

What she could do to him with just words should be illegal. It probably was too. “Offer yourself to me.”

She walked toward the table, sat on it, and slowly parted her legs, her fingers holding her pussy opened for him to see.

“You’re dripping wet,” he growled.

“Sucking you turned me on. Are you coming over, or do I have to take care of myself?” she asked mischievously, sliding two fingers inside her, shivering at the pleasure.

“I take care of my woman,” he said, walking to her, pulling her fingers out of her pussy, and licking them. Then he spread her wide, nudging the head of his cock against her swollen folds. At the contact, her entrance spasmed visibly. “You want me.”

She nodded.

“Watch us.”

She did, her eyes glassy, her lips red and puffy from giving him head, her pussy slowly yielding to him.

They fit perfectly. As small as she was, she wasn’t fragile. She took all of him and when he pulled out, she whimpered in protest, her core clenching, unwilling to let go.

“I love how you feel.” She reached for his cock while he was withdrawing from her and caressed him, raking her nails over his engorged veins. “Inside me and down my throat.”

He did too. Much more than he should. Much more than he was ready to admit.

He’d been the one ordering her to watch as he took her, but he hadn’t counted on the growing intimacy swirling around them, pressing at his chest, not letting him breathe. He plunged inside her, his piercing slamming against her clit, ripping a ragged moan out of her. Without giving her time to react, he set a hard tempo and proceeded to fuck the hell out of her while she grabbed the table, trying to withstand the onslaught, unable to keep the eye contact or talk anymore.

Now he could breathe again.

* * * *

Nico scanned the gay bar and found his target, seemingly alone. Perfect.

He’d gone through all possible scenarios while tracing Aalto’s steps that fateful day. Who he might have met, who he might have spoken with. Dead ends, all of them. Hopefully this was going to bear fruit. It better, seeing all the trouble he was going to. Tracking this backpacking crowd all over the island.

Nico reached the counter and flagged the waiter. “A beer, please. And another of whatever he’s drinking,” he said smiling at the man standing beside him, who gave Nico a once-over and liked what he saw, if the way his eyes sparkled was anything to go by.

“Gin and tonic. Thanks. I’m Donald, by the way. Don.”

Nico knew. Donald Solis. Supervisor at the airline poor Marlene Cabrera had worked for.

“You alone, Don?”

“Not anymore.”

It always surprised Nico how easy it was to pick up men. Those morons didn’t seem to have any self-preservation instincts whatsoever. Actually, every person, man or woman, seemed to go brain-dead while on vacation.

It took him a total of thirty-five minutes to get Don to leave the joint with him. Like stealing candy from a baby, really.

It took him another fifteen more to get Donald to give Elle Cooper up.

Chapter Twelve

Elle couldn’t tear her eyes from Jack, too enthralled to even fiddle with the truck radio, despite how satisfying it was to bug him. Her terminator was a sight to behold. Gorgeous in regular clothes, in a tuxedo he was breathtaking. He’d been dolled up at her sister’s wedding, but then Elle and Jack didn’t have an intimate relationship. She hadn’t seen him naked. Hadn’t felt his hands over her, his cock pushing inside her, his body straining and his face feral as he single-mindedly fucked her. With all those memories and that sensory input fresh in her mind, Jack’s primal nature contained inside those proper clothes revved her up like nothing before had.

“We’re here,” he muttered, turning off the motor in front of the posh hotel where the gathering organized by Patricia Vaughan was to take place.

Jack was not pleased with this party, but they hadn’t been able to get out of it. Patricia Vaughan, Annie’s grandmother, wanted to present her great-granddaughter into society and as Jonah had been born several weeks after Lizzie, he had been included too. Elle and Jack, as godparents, had been strongly encouraged to attend.

“Come on, Borg. Let’s have some fun.”

Before she could open the door, he reached for her and hauled her to his lap. “Let’s set some ground rules first.”

“Hey, my stockings,” she complained. Her gown had a deep slash in one side, so accommodating him between her legs wasn’t difficult. Managing not to snag the thin material with his calloused hands was another matter altogether.

“Forget the stockings.”

“If you ruin them, I’d have to take them off.”

“If you take them off, I’ll fuck you.”

She broke into laughter. “You’ll fuck me either way.”

“True, but not here, at this very second.”

She flushed, a wave of heat spreading over her. My, what this guy could do to her with just a stern look and a handful of words, delivered with that raspy voice of his, abrading all her senses and utterly scattering her mind. And his scent. So male, so…devoid of metrosexual shit. Just a hint of soap and man. Barely bottled-up raw power.

“You like the idea,” he said quietly.

She nodded. It was mind-boggling how sexual she was with him. She had never been prudish when it came to sex, but she was very selective and didn’t jump into bed with the first guy who tickled her fancy. Who would have guessed that, now, with her sitting on top of Jack’s cock? No restraint whatsoever.

Like the boxing ring. Talk about high-intensity training. Or crazy monkey sex, as people called it. It had left her limp as an overcooked noodle, totally covered in sweat and so high on endorphins, amazing sex, and Jack, it had taken her days to get back to earth.

“It has its merits,” she admitted. “I could go without stockings, but your cum dripping down my inner thigh would look kind of conspicuous.”

“Tough shit. I won’t fuck you with a condom.”

She had no intention of humping him now, but that high-handed comment pissed her off. “What? Not ready to part with getting maximum pleasure with your sex? Even if I would ask you to?”

“My cock inside you, it’s always maximum pleasure, condom or no condom.”

“Then?”

She waited for him to answer but in true Jack form, he didn’t elaborated. Ass.

She tried moving away from him, but his grip on her intensified.

Control freak.

“About this party,” she said, changing the subject. By now she knew when she’d hit a stone wall with Jack. “What are those ground rules of yours?”

“You don’t move from my side. Ever.”

“Hmmm, can I go to pee on my own, or do I need to bring some sort of bottle?” His expression softened marginally. “We leave when I say. No befriending strangers. No drawing any attention to yourself.” Then he gave her a once-over and frowned. “I told you this dress was a bad idea.”

“And I told you this was the least revealing of my gowns. Just suck it up. Your future Amish wife will dress more according to your tastes. I won’t. Besides, you are getting it wrong. It’s not the dress, you dummy, it’s the shoes. The higher the heels, the dirtier the girl, didn’t you know that?”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t answer to her jab. “I don’t want you doing anything that would make you stand out. More than you already do by looking like…”

“A ho?” she offered, defiantly.

He cupped her face, his expression fierce. “Like the fucking hottest, sexiest, funniest, most aggravatingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Judging by his glare, one would assume he was insulting her.

She placed her hands on his chest and, without breaking eye contact, whispered, “Thanks for the compliments.”

“They aren’t compliments.”

Yes they were, even if he obviously couldn’t stand it. “The fucking hottest, sexiest, funniest, most aggravatingly beautiful woman you’ve ever seen will refrain from causing you any trouble or discomfort. In exchange, you have to dance with her.”

“That will cause me discomfort. I don’t dance.”

“You did at James’s wedding.”

“I was under duress, being the best man and all.”

“Consider yourself under duress here too,” Elle stated. “I need to assess your abilities. There can never be too many people in a flash mob and the next one is in a couple weeks.”

A smile crept across his face. Encircling her neck with his hand, he brought her to him and kissed her long and deep. “In your dreams, pet.”

“In your dreams,
gorgeous?
In your dreams,
princess?
In your dreams,
sweetheart?
Don’t you think any of these sound better?”

“No.”

It figured. Stubborn Neanderthal. “You’re so lucky I’m humoring you,” she said, attempting to unstraddle him.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, holding her down and gliding his hard cock over her sensitized pussy.

“About what? I forgot already,” she said with a gasp.

“The whole Bowen clan will be there, along with many other guests. You follow my rules, I won’t haul you out on my shoulder and I’ll make it worth your while later on.”

You’ll make it worth my while anyway, she almost replied, but at the last second, she kept it in.

She leaned into him and kissed him, making a huge effort to lift herself from his lap. “Yeah, yeah. Calm down, Borg. You’ll overheat and lose your speech capabilities again. You need to pass for human now.”

Shaking his head, he let her go.

Elle stepped out of the car, straightened her gown, and took the arm he was offering.

“Just so you know, you also look like the hottest, sexiest and most aggravatingly beautiful Borg I’ve ever seen.” And she wasn’t the only one who thought so, because all the ladies they crossed paths with as they entered the lobby were eating him with their eyes. “The title of funniest you can’t claim, sorry,” she finished, winking at him.

Jack shook his head, the flash of a smile warming Elle’s insides.

Some of the Bowens were by the door of the ballroom, so they headed their way.

A man approached Jack and Elle, someone looking like a bodyguard on his heels. “Alex,
qué bueno verte por aquí
.”

Jack’s expression didn’t waver, but she noticed a slight tightening in the arm she was holding. Jack nodded in greeting and let out a torrent of words in what it sounded to Elle like perfect Spanish, shaking the stranger’s hand. Okay, so they were friends, but why the hell was this guy calling Jack Alex?

She smiled, hiding her surprise.

Then the man turned to her.
“¿Y esta belleza?”
And this beauty?

Unlike Jack’s, his words in Spanish had a heavy American accent.

There was a silent warning in Jack’s touch, so Elle continued smiling and waited for his cues.

“This beauty is mine, and I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Jack answered in a light tone so un-Jack-like it was shocking.

The newcomer broke into laughter and taking Elle’s hand, kissed it. “Forgive Alex’s rudeness; he’s fiercely protective of his dates and I committed the ultimate sin of being more charming than him last time we run into each other. I’m David Exxum.”

“Nice to meet you.” This Jack was not the Jack she knew. He moved differently, and had a slight Spanish accent when speaking English, a cadence he didn’t have before. Unsure what she should or shouldn’t say, she opted for keeping her mouth shut and smiled.

“You here for the fund-raising?” David asked, gesturing down the hall, in the opposite direction.

Apparently there were two events in the hotel that evening.

At that moment Tate saw Elle and, flagging her, headed their way.

Jack didn’t move, and Elle didn’t notice any change in his expression, but James did, because he stopped dead in his tracks and called Tate back.

“Yes, we’re here for the fund-raiser. Shall we?” Jack offered, turning his back on the Bowens and walking toward the other ballroom. “Pet, didn’t you want to powder your nose? We’ll go ahead and wait for you there.”

That was her cue to bail.

“Sure, I—”

“Nonsense,” David interrupted, taking Elle by the elbow and gently pushing her forward. “The lady is stunning. Any more and she would blind us. And I don’t want to miss the opportunity to make such an entrance.”

She threw a fast glance backward, toward where Annie’s party was. Aunt Maggie had noticed them and was heading their way waving. James rushed behind her, but he wasn’t going to be able stop the old lady in time.

“Elle, here,” she heard Aunt Maggie call from the other side of the hallway, raising her voice.

“No need to powder my nose,” she hurried to say.

There was something in David’s touch that gave her the creeps, but hiding her apprehension, Elle smiled reassuringly and walked with him into the crowd, feeling Jack’s ominous presence behind her.

* * * *

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Jack kept his face inscrutable as his mind raced. Elle had been quick on the uptake, improvising like a pro, but the last place he wanted her in was that damn fund-raiser with Exxum and his people.