Jake reaches into a nearby plastic bag and pulls out a plastic button. “Leah, if you want to be an art teacher, then I’ll do everything I can to make sure you can.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay quiet, watching him work and enjoying his closeness and this newfound sense of safety. I’m almost disappointed when he finishes up.
“So if you hit this button, it alerts me right away, and I’ll be here in seconds.” He straightens and tosses the screwdriver into his toolbox. “Do you feel okay in your own house tonight?”
If I tell him I don’t, he would let me stay in his guest room again in a heartbeat, I realize. But I can’t just rely on that, I decide. I need to face this and figure out what to do next. Jake has bought me some time. But it’s not a complete solution.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. “Thank you so much.”
I trail behind him as he heads back to my front door, tool box in hand. It’s dark outside now, and I try not to shudder as I glance around in the shadows.
“Thanks for everything,” I say again. What do you tell a man who saves your life and gives you some control back? There aren’t any good words for it.
“Hit the button for anything,” he says firmly. “Or call or text me—whatever you need. If you feel uncomfortable, I’m right here. I promise.”
“I will,” I tell him. I start to push the door closed, but he reaches out and stops it. My breath catches in my throat as he leans in and without any preamble, drops a soft, warm kiss on my lips. It’s not aggressive, but hints at something else. Hot sex, maybe. A tangle of arms and legs without clothing between us.
“The real thing is available anytime,” he whispered.
And then he was gone.
Shit,I thought as I raised my trembling fingers to my buzzing lips. Hedefinitelyknew what I was doing in his guest room.
Chapter 4
Jake
Did I push it too far with Leah?
That short, chaste little kiss was the hottest of my life, but I don’t want to force her into anything she doesn’t want to do.
I lick my lips as I cross her yard and head back toward my own house and reach down and use the palm of my hand to shift my stiff cock inside my jeans. Even scared and beaten-down, she was a goddess. Young, beautiful, and still somehow innocent, even with all the shit she’s dealt with.
Waking up this morning with her in my arms—it was one of the best things I’d ever felt. I slipped from her side to get into the shower, where I practically jacked my cock raw to the thought of her plush curves, those thick thighs and her full lips. And when I walked up to the bedroom door again and heard the rustle of sheets and a faint moan, I knew she was touching herself.
In my house.
Wearing borrowed clothes.
Tangled in my sheets.
My dick hardened right back up, and stayed that way all day.
Leah is more than just a gorgeous damsel in distress and this isnota fairy tale, I remind myself. She’s hurt. Traumatized. And even though she hid those fingerprint bruises under long sleeves, I never forgot about them during our entire day together. I’ll be goddamned if she has to run again to get away from him, and I’m prepared to use all my skills and contacts to get him out of her life.
My house feels empty without her, and I try to ignore the cloying silence as I retreat into my office and slide behind the bank of glowing monitors, tapping a few keys to place a call.
“This is the Front Desk,” a woman’s voice says. “How may I assist you?”
“Front Desk, this is Jake Beaufort. I need some background on Patrick Stern. Uploading details now.” I managed to memorize Patrick’s license plate number yesterday, and between that and a few careful questions with Leah, if there’s any shit that will stick, I’ll find it.
“Is this him?” she asks. A grainy mugshot appears on one of my monitors. It’s Patrick, all right. He smirks into the camera with a knowing gleam in his eye, like he knows that nothing will happen.
“That’s the guy,” I confirm. “What do you have?”
“Son of state Supreme Court justice Wendell Stern. Leah Dias has had a restraining order against him for...ten months. Five arrests for violating terms of the order, two for assault and battery, all charges dismissed.” She pauses, and I hear her fingers fly across her keyboard. “Some odd bank account activity, it appears.”
Interest percolates in my brain. “Odd like how?”