Page 15 of Bound by Destiny
“And I’m sure you took care of the assholes for her.”
A chuckle escapes at the memories. “More than one. And she gives me shit each time, then later thanks me. Wish she’d find a man who didn’t mooch off of her. But she’s young and supposed to make stupid mistakes.”
“You’re pretty lenient on her.” Her eyes connect with mine causing a shock to hit me hard. A man could get seriously lost in those crystal green depths.
It takes me a second to snap out of the connection. “No. I’m not. She makes shit decisions, and I call her out on them all the time. Just because she’s young doesn’t mean I approve of her choices. I’m hoping I only have a couple more years of this bullshit before she grows the fuck up.”
Emery hands me the last dish, and I dry it.
“Sometimes it takes longer for people to grow up. And then you have those of us who’ve seen and been through things that make you grow up really quickly. It’s good she hasn’t seen that end of the stick. Sometimes it haunts you.”
Emery scrubs the stove as she speaks, and each word hits me hard. Being around the club, yes she’s seen things that others haven’t. But she’s not talking about that right now. She’s talking about what happened with JK, and I wish that fucker was alive just so I could kill him again. That piece of shit should’ve never existed on this planet.
Instead of speaking, I walk up to her and pull her into my arms. Hers come around me as her cheek comes to my chest. Her breaths are slightly labored, and her grip tightens. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I hold her there while she gets out whatever she has trapping her for the moment.
“It wasn’t your fault, Em. You let this go and move on with your life.”
Her chest presses against me tightly as she inhales a breath, her damn tits spearing me. “I’m stronger than this, Jacks. I know it. For some reason though, I can’t kick myself out of those thoughts. I hate it. I don’t want to dream about him. I don’t want to think about him. And I sure as hell don’t want to have the reminders on my skin of what he did to me. But that last part is nearly impossible unless I want to go through laser treatments.”
Her body is so warm, and I have to will my cock down. “I heard Princess once tell Leah that her scars were war stamps. A sign that you came out on the other end. Be proud of that, Em.”
“I am.” Her words are muffled as she turns her head and places her forehead on my chest, giving her some distance from me. “I just don’t know how to banish him from my dreams because I think that would help the most.”
Running my hands up and down her arms, I say, “It’ll come. Mark my words, it’ll come.”
She lifts her head and the radiant smile crosses her features. The sudden urge to kiss her is strong and demanding, just as if it’s calling me to take her lips.
Emery releases me and moves back, and the bricks that were building before seem to come to a sudden halt in their process. “Want to watch a movie?”
I clear my throat. “Sure.”
This is how we spend the night. Me on the couch, her in the chair—miles between us. Every instinct inside of me tells me to pick her up and plant her on my lap, but she’s the one who put this distance between us. I’ve never once pressured a woman and refuse to start now.
Even if it tears me up inside.
6
Emery
The professor droneson and on about Greece and its politics. This class is going to suck the life out of me.
Slapping the screen down on my laptop, I lay back on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. When did life decide to stir things up for me? It feels as if it threw me a hell of a twister when it brought Jacks smack dab into my life.
Everything when I’m around him feels like a rush, and that is not a good thing. He’s easy to talk to, and I feel very comfortable around him. It’s a serious recipe for disaster. Been there, done that—don’t want another fucking t-shirt. Yet, I keep throwing myself in it unable to resist. Like today.
My cell rings, and I look at the screen. Jacks’ name flashes before me, and I look at the clock. Shit. I’m late. I swipe it to answer, jumping from the bed. “Hey.”
“Ready?”
I look down at my pajamas and run a hand through my tangled hair. “Yeah. Are you sure you want me to go with you? I can just drive my car.”
“No. Hurry up or we’ll be late.”
Hanging up the phone with a ridiculous smile on my face, I get ready in less than five minutes and am out the door. See, as much as I know I should prepare for the storm, I just keep rushing into it. The pull is too much and like a tornado spinning, I get sucked right in.
He sits on his bike like the machine is an extension of him, made just for him. Legs covered in jeans, black boots scuffed up and his leather cut, make him look like a force to be reckoned with. Add in the shades, hair, and sexy smirk on his lips, it takes everything inside of me not to fall in a puddle on the ground.
Shit. When the hell did he get so unbelievably sexy?
