Page 138 of His to Burn
“I didn’t fall asleep, Jack,” I said, though I didn’t open my eyes.
“You usually snore when you’re awake?” he said.
My eyes—or just the one I that wasn’t the size of a golf ball—popped open.
I found Jack where he’d been for the last three days, at the back corner of the bedroom where he could see both the door and the window.
Watching over me.
I ignored the warmth that spread in my chest and tilted my head in indignation. “I do not snore, Jackson.”
“Sure you don’t, Counselor,” he said drolly.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I sank back against the bed.
An actual bed.
Once my head and jaw stopped pounding, I was able to enjoy it. We’d been here for three days, though I spent most of it in and out of sleep.
All I really remembered were the vicious headaches, Lourdes’s pinched, worried expression, and Jack.
I don’t think he left my side.
Every time I opened my eyes, he was there, alert and at the ready, making sure I knew I was safe.
His beard had gotten full, and his eyes were slightly red. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”
He waved me off. “I’m fine, Counselor. How’s the head?”
I should have been used to it now. Jack never seemed uncomfortable, but I picked up how much he disliked it when I checked on him.
It was stronger now. Jack was always direct,but there was something different now, and I couldn’t put my finger on what.
Not like it should have mattered.
All that should’ve mattered was staying alive, but that weird whatever that lingered beneath the surface bothered me.
God I hoped not.
Sure, I’d seen and knew how lethal Jack was, and while I could admit I was stunned by how quickly and brutally he acted, I appreciated it.
I hoped he knew that.
I glanced over at him, but then looked away, needing to gather my thoughts.
I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
When I walked out, I almost ran face-first into the hard wall of Jack’s chest.
I glanced up, taking in the sparks of green in his eyes, and was overcome.
Aching jaw and all, I kissed him as hard as I dared.
He broke the kiss. “Asia, I?—”
I met his eyes again, speaking, uncaring of how desperate and needy I sounded. “Please. I need you.”
And I did. Seeing what he’d done, knowing he did it for me, filled me with equal parts shame and reverence. Filled me with so many emotions, there was no way I could untangle them all.
