Rectify (Return to Us Trilogy #2) (11 page)

Click
.

It locks into place. I disengage the safety and cycle the slide. It's ready to be fired.

An overwhelming sense of power surges from my heels to my scalp. A gun has clout and demands attention. I cup my left hand under my right, close one eye, and align the sights with the center of the clock on the wall. I peek at him, and he nods his head. I brace my arms and discharge seven dummy rounds at the clock.

"I'm impressed. Now, unload it."

He watches me as I eject the magazine, pull the slide back, and check the chamber. I raise the safety and peer up at him.

"I didn't think it was possible for you to be any sexier, but I was wrong."

I smile and say, "Convinced?" as I hand everything over to him.

"Thoroughly." I sit up on my knees and straddle him. "After your handgun display, I'd be real careful coming so close to my cock."

"I'll take my chances." I lower myself on his lap. Our jeans mash together over his rock hard erection. Maybe I can convince him to continue what he started on my porch.

"So, my lady, what movie would you like to watch?" His pitch is strained.

I do my best thinking face.
Star Wars
would be entertaining this evening. "
Terminator
."

His eyebrows rise. "
Terminator
?"

"Yeah, it seems badass women with guns turn you on." I reach down and massage his hard dick through his pants.

"No, you turn me on. You with a gun makes me want to fuck you. You knowing how to use a gun properly makes me want to fuck you, then marry you." He slips his hand in my hair and tugs me into a filthy desirous kiss.

Jacade

Six o'clock Monday morning, Adele's melancholy voice breaks the silence of the room. I let Ivy's radio alarm play and force myself to remain on my back with my arms linked behind my head.

I would do... have done all I can to make her feel my love. Well, except tell her the truth, which is what she wants the most. But, the truth could end us. She may never absolve me of the heinous deeds I've committed in her name.

Patience. Give her time. Risk worth taking.

I tilt my head to see her sleeping right through the music of her alarm. I grab the sheet and tug hard so it floats above her naked body like a silk scarf in the ocean breeze. The iridescent rays of the morning sun dance on the hills and valleys of Ivy's sumptuous backside. Mmm, chocolate sauce would taste divine licked from those dimples over her ass. God, I want to take her now, but I can't. Yesterday would be a wasted effort.

All these years I've envisioned our future. I've smelled her lilac perfume as she stood before me, a mermaid in an ivory gown. I've heard her gentle coos as we held our first born, and I've touched her wrinkled skin as I brushed a piece of gray hair from her cheek. But nothing could've prepared me for the reality of lying next to her—a scared little girl cowering inside a fierce, gorgeous woman.

I'm ecstatic she knows how to handle a gun. I hope she's ferocious enough to fire it if she needs to. Hesitation can lead to death.

She flops her head to face me. I brush her temple with the back of my hand. Her eyes flit open, and her gaze travels from my face down my torso to the sheet settled over my groin. She gifts me a languid smile and looks at me with hooded eyes. Sexy as hell.

"You're up." Her arms folded on her sides block any chance of side boob. Probably a good thing.

"Yeah, early appointment," I say, my voice raspy.

"I love this song." Her sleepy smile grows wider. Stunning.

"Mmm."

Our gazes lock as Adele's words float in the air between us.

"I should probably get ready too. I have payroll to do," she says with a dreamy look on her face. She coughs, and I lose her eyes when she reaches to turn off the music. "Those pesky physicians think they need to get paid."

"How dare they? Can't they work for free?"

"I know, right?"

I flip on my side and tickle her ribs. She bats at my hands, but I don't give up the tickle torture. She curls into a ball trying to get away from me. I swat her on the right side of her ass.

"Ow!" She rubs her cheek with her hand.

I raise my eyebrows. "You wuss. That didn't hurt."

She turns and pushes on my chest. Her palms on my pecs send a jolt straight to my cock. I grope at her thighs, and she giggles as we wrestle. I'm about to pin her when she sneaks her hand under the sheet and wraps her warm fingers around my shaft.

We can't. I can't. Even though I'm on the rise, I grab her wrist.

"No." With her hand on me, I'm surprised I can form a word. She nuzzles my neck, then kisses the hollow of my throat. Her hand rubs up and down my cock with a squeeze at the base.

Fucking nirvana.

Enough. Not a good idea.

"I said
no
." She releases her grip on my cock and peeks up at me.

"Are you still trying to teach me a lesson?" She looks down and fiddles with the sheet.

I run my finger along her clavicle. "No." Yes. "I can't be late." Not true. Clyde would wait.

I gaze at her until her eyes return to mine. "Shane's going to take you to the office and stay until I meet you there after my appointment."

"That's not necessary."

"Ivy, I'm not arguing about this anymore. I replaced the dummy cartridges in your gun with live ammo. It's locked and loaded. Keep it concealed and carry it with you always."

She stares at me.

"Fine, okay. I get it."

I kiss the tip of her nose and smack her on the left side harder than I did the right.

"Ahh!" She laughs and rubs her other cheek. The alluring rosy flush on her face matches the glow on her ass. So tempting.

"I mean it. No stunts today. I'll see you in a few hours."

***

Jacade

Bomp-bomp-bomp. Biff-biff.

Three right hooks and two left uppercuts. Viktor's face decorates my punching bag.

Bomp-bomp. Bomp-bomp-bomp. Bomp-bomp.

His stupid smirk withers away with every powerhouse strike I deliver. I bounce on my toes, close my eyes, and draw in deep breaths. Wrath courses in my veins like an opportunistic disease. The panther stirs and dashes through the rainforest, leaping over downed trees. Out-hanging leaves sting my arms as he gallops faster.

I open my eyes, and Viktor's defiant face reappears. Dammit.

I pounce.

Bomp-biff.

Viktor's eyes blend with the red of the bag. Bleed motherfucker, bleed. The panther sinks its claws into Viktor's back.

Bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp.

"J!" Someone's yelling my name, but Viktor's subhuman features eclipse my vision. I can't stop hitting him. He's fucking my innocent young Ivy. He's holding a gun to Bryn's head demanding Ivy in return for her safety. The panther bites the nape of his neck and rips the base of his scalp from his head.

Bomp-bomp. Biff-biff
.

Bomp-bomp. Biff-biff
.

"J! Stop, man!"

I can't. I throw my weight and give it all I have. Time to kill this bastard.

Bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp
!

I seize the bag on the sides and ram my left knee into the tough leather.

Bwok-bwok-bwok-bwok-bwok.

Over and over again. Sweat drips into my eyes and my lungs struggle to take in oxygen. His repugnant face remains. Hours of pummeling with my most virulent punches and kicks can't make it disappear.

Forceful hands grip my biceps. "Come on, man!"

I snarl and shove the hands off me to continue my beating. The panther chews off his arm muscles, each tendon frayed. He saws through Viktor's ribcage with his fangs.

Bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp. Bwak-bwak. Bwok-bwok.

I take a woozy step back and see Clyde sitting on the ground with his forearms resting on his knees. He shakes his head at me with a smile.

"I don't know who you were fighting, but I think he's dead now." No, he's not. I wish he was.

I offer my hand to help him up. "Sorry, man." He stands and pats my back.

"No problem. Now I know why you wanted to work out today. You've got some serious rage brewing." In my reflection in the mirror, I see sweat dripping from my hair, running over my tats, down my arms, and soaking the band of my red boxing shorts.

Crimson seeps through the white tape on my knuckles.

"You might want to ice those." Clyde bends to collect his things.

"You up for another round?"

He chuckles. "Are you kidding me, triple J? I'm not as young as I once was. I can only handle getting thrown on the floor once a day." I smile. We both are getting closer to forty with every passing moment. "And my wife's gonna be pissed it wasn't her." He grips his gym bag and strides to the door. "See you Thursday."

I grunt at him with a tilt up of my chin, and he leaves the gym.

As much as I wanted to fuck Ivy before I left her this morning, I couldn't. Too dangerous when I'm this angry and frustrated. The stress of the Viktor goose chase combined with having to deny her last night, and I'm a fucking time bomb. I would never hurt her, but my already tenuous self-control is shot to shit right now.

I can't do gentle with Ivy. Not possible. No, the best course of action was to channel my energy into the bag. Which didn't help at all, by the way. I still want to ram into her until the cows come home.

My fists sting and the blood spreads through my tape, but when his visage appears before me on the hanging ball, instinct takes over, and I have no choice but to beat the shit out of him again.

Bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp. Bwak-bwak. Bwok-bwok.

Ivy

I nudge the office door but smack my forehead into the frosted glass.

Son of a—

Great, I probably have
Plastic Surgery Specialist
permanently branded above my eyebrows.

Why is the door locked? A quick peek in the office with my hand over my eyebrows reveals nothing but blackness and quiet.

Aunt Helen usually arrives early and prepares the patient files for the day. It is Monday, right? I check my phone. Yep, it's Monday. Oh well, at least I don't have to face her first thing Monday morning.

I close my office door and drop my bag on my desk before falling into my chair. I make a list of tasks I have to get done today.

1. Payroll

2. Invoices

3. Order supplies

I put the list down, but pick it up again to add one more thing.

4. Don't get distracted by thoughts of him.

It probably won't work, but I can lie to myself. He's become a part of me like a hand, a foot, or a leg. Cut him off me and he'd regrow in an endless cycle of Jacade regeneration.

Okay, payroll. I login to the accounting software on my laptop and scan for who's up first.

Dr. Jacade Jordan.

Shoot!

***

Ivy

An hour later, Aunt Helen arrives and takes her seat at the check-in desk.

"Good Morning, Aunt Helen." Her head lifts and her eyes peer behind me.

"Hi, sweetie. Are you alone?"

"Shane dropped me off and is waiting downstairs in his car."

"How are you doing?" Her eyebrows draw together. Her petite frame looks frail and weary today.

"I'm fine." Actually, I'd like someone to tell me what the heck is going on around here.

"I messaged you," she says.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was sleeping." And swirling around in a Jacade tornado of skydiving, sex, and guns. I wasn't ready to deal with you yet.

She sighs and approaches me. Her thin fingers brush my hair behind my ears.

"There. Now, I can see you." Yeah, but I can't see you. All the secrets you and Uncle Bernie hold. "Don't give me that look. If I knew anything I would tell you." Her eyes plead with me to believe her.

"When will Uncle Bernie be in today?" She knows I'm going to get my answers.

"He won't be in for a couple of days. He has meetings and a seminar scheduled."

Yeah, sure he does. He doesn't want to talk to me. She's full of crap. This is why I haven't talked to either of them. I sigh and pull away from her. I shake my head and turn down the hallway.

"Ivy." I stop and look back at her. "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too." I march off to my office. Please leave me alone.

***

Ivy

Aunt Helen pokes her head in my office fifteen minutes later. The lights in the hallway reflect off the loose strands in her blonde, hair-sprayed bun.

"A man up front is asking for you." She shrugs her shoulders.

"Who?" I gape at her.

"No idea. He's a cutie patootie though." She snickers and leaves.

Cutie patootie?

I'm not expecting anyone. Aunt Helen clutches papers as she passes me on my way to the waiting room. She gives me a look saying,
See
?
I told you he was hot
, and keeps on walking.

A young gentleman stands on the opposite side of the check-in window. Aunt Helen wasn't kidding. His dusty blond hair sweeps over his forehead. Any college girl would drool over his water polo shoulders bursting out of his silver, tailored Burberry suit.

He sticks out his hand and offers me a naughty yet charming smile. "Ken Amboy."

"Ivy Summers." I smile and shake his hand. "Can I help you with something?"

"Are you the office manager?" His eyes rake over my body.

Although I'm enjoying listening to your resonant voice, who's wanting to know? Because you sure don't dress like any salesman I've ever met.

"I am." My posture solidifies. Am I being served court papers or something?

"Do you have a moment to discuss your office supply needs?"

Office supply?

His words propel me back to the day I was blindfolded on my desk. Jacade hovering over me, his cologne filling my nasal passages. The binder clip stinging my nipple. Then the other.

I need water.

"Excuse me a moment." The water cooler a foot away feels like it's across the Atlantic Ocean. The tank bubbles loudly as I pour water into my cup. I take a sip and resume my previous spot.

I clear my throat. "I'm sorry. My what—hurts. I mean, uh, office supplies?"

He reaches into his breast pocket and hands me a business card.

Ken Amboy
,
Neat Office Products
,
Inc
.

My suspicion confirmed. He's a sales representative. An easy-on-the-eyes salesman to boot. I exhale and smile, flipping the card between my fingers.

"We have a vast selection of products." Oh, well, I order our stuff online since we're a small office, but I hate to dismiss him right away. Doesn't hurt to be nice.

My answer escapes me as Jacade saunters through the main office door. My eyes turn to Jacade but my head stays pointing at Ken. He scrolls through his cell phone giving me time to peruse his body. My hand rests on my neck while I drink him in.

His mountainous arms protrude from a black sleeveless shirt, tattoos glowing on his swollen biceps. His normally spiked hair lies pushed back, smooth and wet. Perspiration stains his fire-engine-red basketball shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. The hair on his calves dips down into his socks. If it was appropriate for me to pull down my panties and fan myself, I would.

He looks up and sees me ogling him, and a skewed grin forms around his dimple. My stomach drops as brilliant connections sparkle between us like laser beams.

His gaze moves to Ken, and his face transforms into testosterone-fueled machismo. He closes his phone, and they commence a silent stare down with puffed chests and assessing eyes. Jacade had better not come spray me with urine. I like this outfit too much.

Jacade's energy and scent assault me as he steps up next to me and kisses me gently on the lips. My womanly hormones beg me to pick him up and rub him all over myself like sunscreen.

He sticks his hand out to Ken. "Dr. Jacade Jordan. And you are?"

Ken's face crumples when their hands meet. I nudge Jacade in the stomach, and he releases his death grip on Ken's hand. Ken shakes his hand coolly to get the blood flowing again.

"Ken Amboy. Nice to meet you, Dr. Jordan. I was discussing some business with Ms. Summers. Office supply business."

I repress a laugh when Jacade's eyebrows go up. He knows exactly why I sniggered.

"Well, Ken, all of Ms. Summers' office supply business is my business." His voice is daunting as he takes a step closer to Ken.

Whoa. He moves in front of me like he's protecting me. From who? The bad, bad salesman?

"Uh—"

My thoughts exactly, Ken.

"Dr. Jordan, if you need office supplies there are forms to be filled out."

Jacade stares at Ken, ignoring my statement. I take another sip of my water.

"Hey, Ken. Do you sell binder clips?"

I choke on my water and wipe the dribble off my chin. I can't believe Jacade asked him about binder clips.

"Yes, we do. All sizes and colors." Aww, poor Ken sounds hopeful.

"Good. Good."

I cough again.

Ken's eyes look to mine. "Is there something I can get you?" Jacade doesn't look at me as he pats me on the back.

"She's fine. She's used to having something else in her mouth." Ken's eyes widen at Jacade's sexual innuendo.

"He's right. This is a lot more than I'm used to." Jacade chuckles low and slaps me harder on my back.

Ha! Burn.

Jacade mutters out of the side of his mouth to Ken. "She drinks a lot in the mornings. One time, I caught her drinking peppermint mouthwash. Sad really."

He didn't!

Ken eyes me with empathy as I dig my heel in Jacade's foot. "He's the reason I drink."

Ken's eyes dart between us. "I see. Well, I'll be going—"

"What about glass desktops? I have this issue with people lying on my desk, which as you might expect, shuffles my papers all around."

"I—umm—I can check." Ken stutters, but I can tell he's questioning why people would be doing that in the first place.

I am too, Ken. Who's lying across his desk besides me? Was that a reference to me being on his desk? He can't possibly know.

I snap back, "Are you sure it's not your sloppy documentation and organizational skills, Dr. Jordan?" They say never insult a doctor's charting. Sorry, just did.

Jacade grabs me by the waist and hauls me to him. His fingertips dig into my side.

"That would be great, Ken. If I knew it was a beautiful woman beating off on my desk, I wouldn't mind." He strengthens his grip on my waist. "Am I right?"

Oh my god. He knows. How does he know?

I jab my right elbow into Jacade's side, but his ripped abs are like steel against my bone.

"Actually, he usually beats off by himself on that desk." His fingers press harder into my side. Ouch! That's enough! "Well, thanks for stopping by. I'll be in contact if I need anything."

I break out of Jacade's tight hold and pull him toward the hallway to the offices, but he roots his feet. "Oh, Ken. I almost forgot. Do you sell medical supplies? I'm going to need large quantities of tourniquets in the near future."

Ken doesn't respond. How could he after our performance? I yank Jacade by his collar. He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder caveman style.

I hit him in the back with my fist. "Put me down!"

He turns to Ken who's chuckling at Dr. J's antics. Thanks, for showing my behind to the salesman.

"Keep it real, Ken!" He slaps my behind and moseys off with me over his shoulder.

"Mine," he growls with a squeeze of my upper thigh.