Jaked, page 1
Jaked
A New Adult Romance
Want to hear about special offers and new releases? Sign up for my confidential mailing list: eepurl.com/Lf8Ij
Copyright © 2014 by Sabrina Stark
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
My roommate was a screamer. Through the thin, shabby walls, I heard Maddie and the mystery guy going at it for like the third time since I'd gotten home from work two hours earlier.
The guy was quiet. Maddie, not so much. Then again, she seldom was. But this guy was eliciting sounds that even by Maddie's dubious standards were just a shade over the top.
Huddled under the covers of my own single bed, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the noises.
It's not that I objected to sex. And it's not that I minded Maddie bringing back some guy to our cheap two-bedroom apartment. What I minded was the fact that I had to get up in three hours for my other job, and hearing Maddie scream out, "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Oh yeah!" for like the millionth time wasn't exactly the thing for a restful night's sleep.
I'd never met the guy, but I had a pretty good idea who he was. She'd been talking about him non-stop for the past week. Jay, the guy with lickable, washboard abs. Jay, the guy with the hot, tight ass that she wanted to grip with both hands and never let go. Jay, the guy with picture-perfect pecs and a muscle-bound back of cryptic tattoos.
According to Maddie, he was famous for something or other. But with Maddie, claims to fame weren't exactly credible. She tossed around that phrase the way some people toss spare change into deli tip jars whether they ordered a sandwich or not.
Supposedly, the guy was rich too.
If there was any justice in this world, he'd have the face of a bulldog.
Whether I'd seen his face or not, this had to be the guy going at it in Maddie's bedroom. Returning from my six-hour bartending shift, I'd seen that unfamiliar vehicle out front, some exotic sports car way beyond the budget of anyone in this building.
It could only belong to him. Parked on the narrow street across from the twelve-unit where I'd been living with Maddie for the last few weeks, the car was blazing red with wide tires and shiny rims that probably cost more than what I'd made last month at both of my jobs combined.
In our neighborhood, the vehicle would be hard to miss. Obviously, the guy was an idiot. If the car was still there in the morning, it would be a miracle.
Who cared if the guy had a hot body? And who cared if he was eliciting sounds that weren't quite human? And who cared if he had gobs of money and didn't mind spending it?
He was a giant dog-faced, dumb-ass. Or at least that's what I told myself an hour later when I heard the promise of round-four coming from Maddie's bedroom. Groaning in frustration, I wrapped my pillow around my ears and burrowed deeper under the covers.
I definitely needed my own place, and not only because Maddie wasn't exactly diligent about paying her half of the rent, even if her name, not mine, was on the lease.
By the time I drifted off to sleep, Maddie's screams had subsided into giggles and moans. Two short hours later, I staggered out of bed and opened my door just a crack. The place was dark, and Maddie's bedroom door was fully shut.
Thank God.
I was dressed for work in a crisp white blouse and a plain black skirt that showed way too much leg, especially for a cold Michigan morning. It was late March. Technically, it was spring. In reality, snow wasn't exactly out of the question.
Even our apartment was freezing, whether from a faulty thermostat or Maddie's habit of paying the bills five days after the shutoff notice. As soon as I had the chance, I made a mental note to call the gas company. Again.
Shivering in the cold apartment, I stumbled on high heels toward the small kitchenette and flicked on the dim overhead light.
That's when I saw him, sitting alone at our small kitchen table. Shirtless and tousled looking, the guy was everything Maddie had claimed and then some. He wore no shirt, revealing a broad chest of sharply defined muscles, set off by bulging biceps and shoulders cut so fine they were almost a work of art.
When our eyes met, my mouth fell open. My purse thudded to the floor, and I didn't bother to look down.
Casually, he rocked back on his chair, cradling his hands behind his head. The guy looked utterly at home, not just in his own skin, but in the ugly little kitchenette, with its peeling wallpaper and cracked cupboards.
We locked eyes, and the silence stretched out. His face was all angles and shadows, with a strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and dark, probing eyes that made me swallow with an audible gulp.
His wasn't the face of a bulldog. Good for him. Bad for me. And not only because he was sleeping – or whatever – with my roommate.
It was because of the other thing. The thing that Maddie wouldn’t know. Couldn’t know.
His was a face I recognized.
When he spoke, his voice was low, not quite a whisper, but the next closest thing. It might've been a caress, except for the note of surprise was impossible to miss. "Luna?" he said.
I hated that name, even if was the thing on my birth certificate.
I bit my lip. Why on Earth was he here? To help me? To hinder me? I wasn't stupid. I knew it had to be more than a coincidence that he'd shown up here, in my apartment, two hours away from where we'd both grown up.
I lifted my chin and met his gaze head-on. "Jake," I said.
"You've got five minutes," he said.
"For what?" I asked.
"To pack your bags."
I glanced around. "Why?"
"Because," he said, "you're coming with me."
Chapter 2
I stared at him. "I am not."
He rocked forward on his chair and pressed his palms to the table. When I didn't move, he flicked his head toward my bedroom, just a few feet away. "You want me to pack for you?"
I stood my ground. "No."
He shoved back his chair and stood. He strode around the table. Brushing past me, he headed toward my bedroom while I followed on his heels. When he opened the bedroom door, he stopped and gave the shabby little room the once-over.
He made a sound of disgust.
"What?" I said.
"You don't belong here."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said, "it's depressing as hell."
I glanced around, taking in the gray walls, the dingy carpet, and the narrow window that offered a cinderblock view of the neighboring building.
"And you just figured this out?" I lowered my voice. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I'll tell you in the car."
I glanced toward Maddie's bedroom. "And what about Maddie?"
He turned his head in my direction, and his dark gaze bored into mine. "What about her?"
I crossed my arms and gave him a snotty smile. "Is she going with us too?"
He looked only mildly interested. "You want her to?"
I made a scoffing sound. "I'm not even going with you. What Maddie does is her own business."
He left the doorway and strode into my bedroom. I followed after him and shut the door behind us. At one time, forever ago, we'd been friends, or at least that's what I'd thought, right up until the moment he'd kicked me to the curb like yesterday’s garbage.
I hadn't seen him in how long? Six years? Of course, I'd been seventeen back then, way too young to be hanging out with the likes of Jake Bishop.
Even back then, he'd been wild to the core, and dangerous as hell. But to me? He'd been that teenage girl’s wet dream, the guy you couldn't stop thinking about, no matter how hard you tried.
Stupidly, I'd had this massive crush on him. But that was a long time ago. Now, I was twenty-three and a college graduate. Older, wiser, and mostly reformed, I was way too smart to be crushing on anyone like him.
Recalling the difference in our ages, I did the math in my head. Jake would be how old now? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Back when I'd been in high school, the five years between us had seemed monumental.
Now, the difference would be nothing. A scoffing sound escaped my lips. Less than nothing, actually. Probably, I was a lot more mature than Jake was, at least where it counted.
He stopped to give me a look. “Something funny?” he asked.
No way I'd be sharing this joke with him. "That depends," I said. "Do you like knock-knock jokes?"
"No." He strode toward my closet. He flung open the door. He stopped short, staring into the mostly empty space. He didn't turn around. "Where's your stuff?"
I felt color rise to my face. "Actually," I said, "it's kind of a long story."
Jake pushed aside a row of empty hangers and reached for the few that actually held clothes. "You'll be telling me later," he said.
"That's what you think." I flopped onto my freshly made bed and watched him with morbid curiosity. A normal girl would stop him this instant. I would have stopped him, or at least tried to, except, honestly, there was nothing in my closet worth defending.
Pathetic, I know.
Plus, watching him move, I was more than a little distracted. I gave his naked back a good, long look. It was ju
The tattoos were new. The body wasn't.
As if my eyes had a mind of their own, my gaze drifted to his ass. No wonder Maddie hadn't wanted to let it go. My hands, resting beside me, gave my bed-coverings an involuntary squeeze. The motion felt oddly unsatisfying. I cleared my throat and flattened my palms against the bed. Mentally, I gave myself a good slap to the face.
He was Maddie's guy, not mine, even if I had known him first. With an effort, I yanked my gaze upward and reminded myself to keep it there.
Good thing too. I'd barely looked up when Jake turned around to face me. His gaze flicked to the shabby wooden dresser that stood beside the bed. "The dresser," he said. "What's in it?"
"Clothes, mostly." Of the unmentionable variety.
"How many?"
"Not a lot." It was true. There were five drawers. Four were empty.
He gave me a good, long look. "Uh-huh."
"Like you should talk," I said, giving his bare chest a pointed look. I felt myself swallow. "You're not even wearing shirt."
"Not my fault," he said.
"Why's that?"
"I had one," he said. "It ripped."
I was still looking at his chest. That long-lost shirt, wherever it was, wasn't the only thing ripped around here. Damn it. With an effort, I pulled my gaze upward yet again. "Ripped?" I said. "How?"
"Bedroom casualty."
I gave him a smirk. "That's nice."
"Nah," he said. "But I've got a spare in the car, so, eh, whatever."
"Seriously?"
Again, he turned toward my closet. "You think I'm gonna drive around with no shirt?" He pulled a suitcase from the top shelf. His muscles tightened, making the ink on his back shift with the smooth motion. Sure, he could drive around with no shirt, but with a body like that, he'd be a menace to any girl who wanted to keep her eyes on the road.
He tossed the suitcase onto the floor and said, "Here. Pack your stuff."
As interesting as this was, I had someplace else to be. That was probably a good thing, all things considered.
"Sorry," I said, glancing at my watch. "But I've got to work at eight." It was kind of a bummer, actually. Today was Saturday. Somehow, I'd always envisioned that when I graduated from college, I wouldn't be working weekends anymore. But a lot of things hadn't turned out exactly the way I'd planned.
"So," I continued, "I'll just pass on the whole packing thing if that's alright with you
"No," he said. "It's not alright."
This was getting ridiculous. "Excuse me?"
"And about that job?" he said. "You quit yesterday."
I gave a little laugh. "Sure I did." If only I could quit. It wasn't exactly my dream job, but a girl had to start somewhere, right?
"Yeah," he said. "By email."
I stared at his face. Was he kidding? He didn't look like he was kidding. "Quit messing around," I said.
"I'm not." He flicked his head toward the suitcase. "So pack."
"You can't be serious?"
As an answer, he reached into his front pants pocket. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He held it out vaguely in my direction. I pushed myself off from the bed and snatched the paper out of his hand.
I looked down and scanned the sheet, a printout of some bogus email between me and my boss. By the time I finished reading, my blood was boiling. I looked up. "What the hell?" I said.
"You can thank me later."
"I'm not gonna thank you," I said, waving the paper in his direction. "You forged a resignation letter?"
"Email," he corrected.
"Whatever," I gave him a hard look. "Please tell me you're joking."
His voice was flat. "I don't joke."
"You do too," I said. The guy had a wicked sense of humor, or at least he used to have a wicked sense of humor – not that anyone would guess it now.
I looked down at the paper, zooming in on the originating email address. "And how," I asked through clenched teeth, "did you get into my email account?"
"I'll tell you later." His voice hardened. "Now, for the last time, get packing."
I glared up at him. "Why?"
"Because," he said, "if you're still here tomorrow, it won't be me you've got to worry about."
I shook my head. "What are you getting at?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. His fingers skimmed across the smooth screen, and he thrust the phone in my direction. Silently, I took it and looked down. My eyebrows furrowed. "But that doesn't make any sense," I said.
"You're telling me."
From somewhere in the apartment, a door slammed. I heard soft footsteps coming fast. A split-second later, my bedroom door flew open. The doorknob slammed into the neighboring wall, sending bits of plaster tumbling onto the faded carpet.
I jumped to my feet.
Oh crap.
Maddie stood in the doorway. Her body was naked, and her eyes were blazing. Her long red hair was a wild mess. Either she'd just been attacked by a ferret, or – more likely – she'd just woken up from the best sex of her life.
Embarrassingly, I was rooting for the ferret.
Still, for someone who'd gotten lucky four times over, Maddie looked decidedly unhappy. "What. The. Fuck!" she said.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen Maddie naked. She had a nice body, and apparently, didn't mind flaunting it. To me. To her boyfriends. To the maintenance guy, who surprise, surprise, always came the first time we called. Maybe that's why the thermostat kept breaking. Sabotage.
My gaze bounced from Maddie to Jake and back again. "It's not what it looks like," I said.
"Then why," she gritted out, "is he in your bedroom?" Her gaze flew to Jake. "And why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?"
As if she didn't know.
"Because," Jake said, "you ripped the damn thing off. Remember?"
A choked sound escaped my lips, half snort, half laugh. This had to be a dream. No. A nightmare. I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched myself on the arm.
I didn't wake up.
Damn it.
Chapter 3
Inside my bedroom, I opened my eyes just a crack. Maddie was staring at me with murder in her eye, as if I, not she, were flashing naked goodies all over the apartment.
When she spoke, her voice dripped venom. "And this is the thanks I get for letting you live here?"
"Well technically," I said, "I've been the one paying the rent so…"
"Shut the fuck up," she said. She whirled to Jake. "And you."
Jake looked oddly unconcerned. "Yeah?"
"You're cheating on me?" Maddie said. "Already?"
Jake gave her a bored look. He didn't answer.
"And with her?" Maddie said. She said "her" like I was the Bubonic Plague.
"For me to cheat," Jake said, "we'd have to be a couple."
Her gaze narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"Nothing to say," Jake said.
I glanced from Maddie to Jake. She had been wild about him. And in spite of my own crazy mixed-up feelings, I hated the thought of causing trouble between them. Besides, I couldn’t afford to make Maddie mad. Her name, not mine, was on the rental agreement.
"Uh, I'll leave you two alone," I said.
Maddie bared her teeth. "You do that."
Gripping the printout of that stupid resignation email, I snatched my purse off the dresser. The bus would be here any minute. If I hurried, I could reclaim my job before it was lost for good.
"And Anna?" Maddie said.
Technically, my name wasn't Anna. But it was the name I'd been answering to lately. I turned around. "Yeah?"
She tossed a strand of tousled red hair over her bare shoulder. "Don't bother coming back."
I stared at her. "What?"
She put her hands on her naked hips. "You heard me," she said. "We're done, sister."
I blew out a breath. "Oh Maddie, come on." I turned to give Jake a pleading look. "Tell her."
"Tell her what?" he said.
I gritted my teeth. "Tell her that nothing happened."
He gave me a wolfish grin. "If you say so, baby."
The bastard.
Fifteen minutes later, I was lugging my small overnight bag down the dimly lit hallway. Behind me, Jake was carrying my large suitcase, mostly empty, in one hand, and my favorite reading lamp in the other.
