Page 20 of Jacking Jill

You’re mine.

Jill’s heart started racing again beneath the deep V-neck of her black dress that felt threateningly tight around her boobs and self-consciously snug around her ass. She’d taken a long time to emerge from the hotel room bathroom after putting on the dress she’d picked out for her act of selfless sluttiness that now seemed embarrassingly ridiculous, like how disconnected from reality was she to actually believe she could pull this off in any way, shape, or form?

But the embarrassment had been swept aside by that breathless hot feeling Jill got earlier after walking out of that hotel room bathroom and seeing Jack standing by the window in a dark green evening suit that was off-the-rack but seemed tailored to his masculine V. The color matched the green of his eyes, and although Jack had said nothing when Jill emerged in that little black cocktail dress over black tights, her face painted like a French street-whore from the 1920s, Jack’s narrowed gaze and grumpy frown revealed something that made Jill’s pussy tingle beneath her panties.

He was jealous.

She saw it clearer than sunlight, brighter than moonlight, shinier than starlight.

The mere suggestion that Jill had come here intending to sleep with another man had driven Jack into the most inexplicably possessive rage, an obsessive jealousy that was so clearly written on his expression that it was puzzling at first. After all, Jack had been all swagger and coolness up to that point. He was obviously a man who knew his way around women, knew himself around women. Except he’d been blindsided by his own reaction, Jill had thought when she stepped out of that bathroom and was greeted by a green-eyed gaze that seemed to back up that shockingly possessive declaration that she was his, all his, only his.

And then Jill understood why Jack couldn’t hide the jealousy behind his take-it-or-leave-it coolness.

He’d never been jealous before.

Never given a shit about whether another man might steal his woman.

Because maybe Jack had never wanted a woman like he seemed to want her.

The realization had sent a thrilling tingle through Jill’s dolled-up body, her pussy tightening in an almost primitive way, like it was reacting favorably to the prospect of being owned by this growly grumpy man who’d carjacked her in the afternoon and then by sunset had declared she was his.

You’re mine.

They’d barely spoken on the drive over to the Carmine Mansion. Jack made no attempt to backtrack or apologize for what he’d said with a ferocity that couldn’t be faked, a hunger that couldn’t be hidden, a desire that couldn’t be denied. The tension in her little red Honda hatchback had been thick enough to slice, and when Jack finally looked up from his phone and informed her in a stiff businesslike tone that Kay Steffen was now a person of interest in his mysterious mission to track down some guy named Diego, Jill was relieved to talk about something other than the unspeakable intensity of that moment when Jack seemed about to leap through that half-open bathroom door as Jill watched him with a dangerously dark mix of fear and excitement, not sure why she hadn’t slammed the door shut immediately.

“Do you work for the U.S. government?” Jill had asked as she drove them towards the lighted mansion in the distance. She glanced at Jack’s clean-shaved profile, thought of those ridges of inked muscle hiding beneath his dark green evening suit. “Like a dark ops type thing?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jack narrowed his eyes, darting his gaze left and right with fake shiftiness that made her smile. He grinned, then shook his head. “Nah, we’re just a private contractor. Nothing too glamorous. Mostly we do mundane security-type jobs.”

“Chasing a murderous outlaw on a motorcycle during winter doesn’t seem too mundane,” Jill had pointed out as they neared the Carmine Estate gates, where there was a line of cars waiting to be checked by the gate-guards.

“Neither is talking your way into a mafia wedding from which you’ve been un-invited with extreme prejudice, Miss Former Maid-of-Honor.” Jack had glanced over at her as Jill slowed the car to a crawl, joining the line of expensive-looking vehicles waiting to be checked and cleared. “I presume the gate-guards have a guest-list and we aren’t on it.”

Jill had nodded, smiling tightly as she crept the car towards the brightly lit gate-check. The night was clear and cold, with a blustery wind that was clearly making the gate-guards grumpy in their black puffy jackets and matching wool watch-caps. They weren’t carrying machine-guns or grenade-launchers, but Jill guessed they were armed beneath those puffy jackets. The jackets were zipped all the way up, though, which meant they probably weren’t expecting trouble.

Which would back up what Jill knew about Bobby Carmine’s branch of the family not being a major mafia power. After all, Bobby Carmine was connected to the Carmine Family only through his mother, not his father. From what Nina had told her, Bobby’s dad had been a deadbeat loser who was shot dead robbing a liquor store fifteen years ago. The guy had never married Bobby’s mother, so Bobby kept his mother’s Carmine name but didn’t get the pure Italian blood. It was Bobby’s uncle Romeo Carmine who ran the Carmine Mafia Operations—which, best Jill could tell from her online research which included searching through the WESTLAW database of every American court-case transcript, had mostly been illegal gambling and loan-sharking operations in the greater Philadelphia area. Of course, sports gambling was now legal in Pennsylvania and most of the Northeast, which probably hit the Carmine Family’s operations pretty hard.

Though it certainly didn’t seem like the Carmines were hurting for money, Jill thought now as she examined the cut-crystal soap dispenser on the Italian marble bathroom counter. The Carmine Mansion itself was a study in lavishness, with white marble pillars fronting a sprawling structure made of blackstone. The place was immaculately maintained, with broad expanses of lawn that were bare now in winter but would be lush and green once spring came around. Everything was financed by Bobby’s uncle, Romeo Carmine, Jill knew. Nina had mentioned that Romeo supported his younger sister, Bobby’s single mother, who’d never married, never had any other children.

But although Romeo Carmine paid for everything, took care of Bobby’s mother like a protective older brother should, Nina had mentioned that Romeo wouldn’t let Bobby join the Family Business—which was why Bobby had been trying to build his own little mini mafia empire. Jill hadn’t gotten much more than that out of Nina before the whole wedding thing came up and Jill got cancelled from Nina’s life. Still, it was something that stood out in Jill’s mind.

And it stood out even more once Jill and Jack made it past the gatekeepers into the high-walled grounds of the Carmine Estate.

“Hi,” Jill had said, rolling down her window and smiling up at the gruff-looking gate-guard who’d asked to see her invitation and a photo ID so he could check her name on the guest-list. “I’m Jill Hennessy. I'm not on the list, but can you call Nina on the phone or walkie or whatever? Tell her Jill says she’s sorry.”

The guard frowned beneath his black wool watch-cap. His nose was flat like a boxer’s who’d been punched in the face too many times. He bent down and peered past Jill towards Jack, who offered a friendly-enough head-nod. Then the guard grunted, tugged at his jacket-collar to find the microphone that matched his in-ear headset, and mumbled something incomprehensible into it. He waited for several long moments, then grunted again and nodded towards Jill.

“She says answer your phone.” The guard stood there like a puffy gargoyle.

Jill’s phone was already ringing when she fished it out of her little black clutch. Nina was excited like a little girl, which was a relief at first, then heartbreaking when Jill remembered why she’d come.

“I’m so glad you came!” Nina had squealed eleven minutes later once the gate-guards checked the car and patted Jack down for weapons and waved them towards the guest parking lot, which was decorated with strings of diamond-white wedding lights. “Oh, I was so depressed after we fought, Jill. Angry at first, but then so, so depressed. But I knew you’d come around. Bobby didn’t think so, but I said you would eventually. I didn’t think you’d show up at the wedding, though. But I’m thrilled you came.” She’d smiled at Jack, who’d been standing silently by Jill’s side, his arm around her waist, big hand resting on the side of her hip with a familiarity that sent tingles through Jill’s entire body, making her feel sexy in a way she didn’t think was possible. “Hi, I’m Nina!”

“Nice to meet you, Nina,” Jack had said with a warm smile, taking his arm away from Jill’s waist long enough to shake Nina’s hand. Within seconds his hand was back in that possessive position, his big palm sliding across her lower back, tantalizingly close to the curve of her ass, fingertips dragging their way along the tight satin of her black dress in a way that made Jill wet beneath her panties, that uncharacteristic feeling of sexiness taking over until it really felt like they were together beneath those diamond-white wedding lights. “I’m Jack.”

Nina had cocked her head to the left and closed one eye. “Your name is Jack? Really? Jack and Jill?” She grinned to show new veneers on her upper front teeth, two of which had been cracked and discolored the last time Jill had seen sweet Nina.

But at least Nina still had her teeth, which meant her drug use hadn’t completely sucked all the vital minerals from her body. Shit, maybe Bobby and Nina really were going to stick with rehab after the wedding, Maybe they’d even started detox. Maybe they were already clean, Jill had thought hopefully.

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