Wilde Edge, page 10
Somewhere in the sexual storm that swirled around them, Jo discovered a truth she’d been hiding from herself.
I love him.
She loved him without doubts, limits, or reservations. That knowledge filled her heart with a light that burned as fierce and hot as the lust that poured through her veins. She clung to him as he made love to her, experiencing every moment with crystalline clarity. Her inner walls flexed and pulsed around his cock, limbs tightened around him, holding him close as she raced him to the brink of orgasm and then tumbled over the edge.
He never stopped, pushing her to new heights as he chased after his own release, the raw power of his desires nearly overwhelming her. He lifted her off the car and into his arms, the slide and thrust of his cock gliding along her still throbbing clit and setting off another release. This time he followed her, coming so hard she could feel the heat of his release flooding into her body, branding her with his essence.
There were tears on her cheeks as he set her down again, both of them breathless and unsteady. Tag dropped his head to the crook of her neck, holding her to him so close that she could feel his heart racing against the wall of his chest.
“I love you,” she said, wanting him to know what she had finally understood.
“That’s good, angel, because I love you too, and after what we just did, there is no way in hell I’m ever letting you go. You’re a once in a lifetime thing, and I’m keeping you.
“You’re my once in a lifetime too,” she murmured, feeling drunk with joy.
“Just remember, I said it first.”
“You can have that one, so long as I can claim bragging rights to fulfilling your sexual fantasy.”
Tag chuckled. “You didn’t just fulfill my fantasy. You nuked it from orbit and replaced it with something ten times better. I think we should go home, have dinner and then we can do it again…only this time we’ll use your car.”
She glanced down and realized that in their hurry, he’d never gotten undressed. “How come I’m naked and you’re not?” she asked.
He gave her a wicked grin and pointed to his jeans and then to her bare thighs. “Like I said, angel, it was time you learned who wears the pants in this relationship.”
Chapter Ten
Tag tucked himself back into his jeans, his eyes glued to Jolena’s gloriously naked ass as she scampered around the repair bay, picking up her clothes and giggling. It wasn’t until he was zipping up his fly that it hit him.
We didn’t use a condom.
He’d gotten lost in his fantasy come to life and hadn’t given it a second’s thought. He knew he was clean. There’d been a full slate of tests when he’d been admitted to the hospital, and no other women but Jolena since. Even as he cleared his throat to point out what had happened, part of him was not sorry it had happened. Skin to skin, with nothing between them, was better than he could have imagined. Whatever the consequences, he wouldn’t regret it.
“Earth to Tag. Hello?” Jolena called to him, snapping his thoughts back to the here and now.
“I’m here. I just…uh…fuck. There’s no pretty way to say this. I screwed up.”
The light went out of Jolena’s eyes and leaned back, putting a few extra inches between them. “What do you mean?”
Well fuck, this wasn’t going well. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving it back from his face. “I mean we, uh I, forgot to use a condom. I’m sorry.”
“Oh. Oh!” she exclaimed. Tag waited for her to be angry, or worried, or freak out, but instead she just blew out a slow breath and then gave him a crooked smile. “Oops.”
He walked over to her, tucking her head under his chin as he held her close. “Did you think I was talking about something else?”
“Maybe.”
“What, did you expect me to suddenly announce I had a wife and kids? That I forgot to mention I was moving to Alaska to prospect for gold? Not gonna happen. The only claim I’m staking is on your sexy ass. Are we clear on that?”
“Clear,” she murmured, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. “And you’re not the only one who wasn’t thinking about protection. I’m clean, though, I promise. I can show you the test results when we get home.”
“I can show you mine too,” he said softly.
“I guess I should get back on the pill then…that way we won’t have to worry about condoms anymore.”
“Hell, yeah. I like that idea.” Fuck, did he ever like the idea of getting to have her with no barriers and no need to worry about protection.
Jolena squirmed a little in his arms. “Now we’ve had this very serious talk, do you think you could let go of me so I can finish getting dressed? It’s chilly in here!”
He let her go with a laugh. “The sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can go home and I can get you naked again. You are done for the day, right?”
“All done. I actually came over to tell you some good news…but you distracted me. Those guys who wanted to buy this place called a little while ago. They’re withdrawing their offer and moving on to other projects.”
“Good. I guess that letter from your lawyer made them rethink getting involved in any deal that involved your sleazy ex. That’s one less thing for you to be worried about from now on.”
“They weren’t so bad, just pushy. In the beginning I thought maybe they’d try pulling something dirty, but that was probably because they were working with Greg. Guilt by association and all that.”
She finished getting dressed, and then surprised him by tossing him the keys to her car.
“Let’s go home.”
* * * *
Tag hadn’t had a chance to drive Jolena’s Mustang yet, and he was having so much fun behind the wheel that he took the longest available route home. It responded differently than his Impala, but the raw power was the same, as was the sense of personality that newer cars never seemed to have.
“Ready to admit Fords are better?” Jolena asked as he eased the muscle car into the garage behind her house. The overhead light was linked to the garage door opener, giving him enough light to see to park, but not much else. The walls were lined with old tools, dusty posters and random sports equipment that probably hadn’t been used since Jolena had traded rollerblades for her first torque wrench.
“Nope. I am, however, willing to consider the possibility that all Fords aren’t automatically inferior to all Chevys.”
Jo rolled her eyes in response and then leaned forward to pat the dashboard of her car. “It’s okay, baby. I know you’re the best. He just doesn’t get to drive you again until he admits the truth.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be? I love you, you love me, but we’re going to be a Ford vs. Chevy family forever?”
“Only until you realize I’m right and you’re wrong,” she said and grinned at him before opening the door and climbing out.
“Never going to happen.”
“I’m telling Tiffany you drove a Ford and you liked it!” Jolena taunted him as she bolted for the door leading to the backyard. She tugged it open and then turned to stick her tongue out at him in challenge.
At that moment, the world exploded into gunfire and chaos.
His training kicked in and Tag threw himself against the nearest wall, but he never took his eyes off of Jolena. Two more shots rang out in the time it took for her to stagger back from the door, both bullets striking the doorframe with a meaty sound that sent splinters of wood flying in all directions.
Everything was happening in slow motion, and Tag had time to take in every detail as he pushed off from the wall and charged across the garage toward the still-open door. Her eyes were wide and filled with dazed bewilderment, her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but she stayed silent as she swayed in place and then crumpled to the floor.
There was a tear in her jacket just above her right bicep, the light blue fabric turning a sickening purple as blood bloomed from a wound he couldn’t see. Her face went pale with shock and then her mouth snapped shut, lips thinning as the pain hit. She covered her injured arm with her other hand, the blood quickly seeping between her fingers. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Not until he’d dealt with the shooter.
“You dead, bitch?” A familiar voice snarled from the darkness outside, bringing the moment of slow-motion clarity to an end.
“Not even close, asshole! You’re as bad a shot as you were a husband!” Jolena yelled back, gingerly backing herself into the small space between the open door and the wall.
Tag felt a brief hit of relief as he heard the vicious outrage in Jolena’s voice. If she had the strength to hurl insults at her ex, then the odds were good she was going to be okay.
Which was more than could be said for the bastard who shot her.
The scuff and slide of Greg’s shoes on the pavement told Tag two things. First, it gave away the man’s approach, and second, the bastard was drunk again, so much so he couldn’t even walk in a straight line. Tag reached for the only weapon at hand, a cobweb-covered wrench hanging on the wall near the door.
“You ruined me! Everything’s gone. The deal, the money, all of it. You fucking cow, you ruined everything! You could have given me this, but you had to be a selfish bitch, same as always. But your daddy isn’t here anymore to protect you, and I looked, that pretty boy isn’t home either. It’s just you and me this time, bitch. You should’ve given me what I wanted, then this wouldn’t be happening. It’s all your fault.” Greg’s non-stop babbling got louder and more incoherent with every passing second.
Tag waited, fingers wrapped around the shaft of the wrench. He could taste the sour-metal tang of adrenalin in his mouth, his blood pounding in his ears. Anticipation coiled inside him, a clock-spring wound to the point of breaking, but still, he waited. Surprise was the one thing he had going for him. He had to get the son of a bitch disarmed and away from Jolena. That was his only goal right now.
“Since you’re not dead yet, I’m going to teach you a lesson—” Greg stepped into the doorway, a small caliber automatic held out in front of him in one unsteady hand. Tag didn’t hesitate. He brought the wrench down across Greg’s wrist with every ounce of his strength and was gratified by the crunch of bones breaking as he made contact.
Greg shrieked in wordless pain, dropping the gun as he stared at Tag in drunken confusion.
“You!”
****
From her spot behind the door, Jo couldn’t see anything but Greg’s shoes, but she could hear perfectly well. The moment Greg started screaming in pain she kicked at the door, sending it slamming into him. The blow knocked him backward, still shrieking as he tried to regain his balance. Tag never gave him that chance.
Both men vanished from her line of sight, leaving Jo alone in a fog of pain. In the movies, getting winged by a bullet seemed like no big deal. Now that she was the one trying to keep pressure on the bleeding gash in her arm, Jo knew the movies were bullshit. It hurt. All she wanted to do was curl up in this corner and cry, but that wasn’t an option.
She took a deep breath and let go of her injured arm, ignoring the blood that immediately started flowing again. Moving awkwardly, she managed to get onto her knees, her body supported on her one good arm as she fought back a wave of nausea brought on by the pain. There was no way she was going to do something weak, like faint. She was not going to be that person.
From her new vantage point, she could see the gun lying only a few feet away, right below her car’s bumper. It gave her something to focus on, and she started crawling forward, letting her injured arm hang down to the floor. In the back of her mind she knew that wasn’t a good idea, that she should put pressure on it and keep it elevated, but that was going to have to wait.
The entire time she was crawling to the gun, Jo could hear the sounds of fighting coming from outside, and once the entire garage shuddered as a body slammed into the back wall. Based on the gibbering scream of pain and rage that came a few seconds later, she guessed that it was Greg that was getting tossed around like Stallone’s punching bag.
Good. I hope it hurts, asshole.
She got her hand on the gun, feeling better for having it in her possession despite the fact she knew almost nothing about how to use one. She fought to stand, using the front of her car to haul herself painfully to her feet. It felt like hours had passed since she’d been shot, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute, or maybe two. It was hard to judge things properly anymore. Everything seemed out of joint and disconnected, and a single word wandered through her mind and then vanished again before she could focus on it. Shock.
Her arm felt as though lead weights had been strapped to it, and the pain was a living thing, chewing on her arm like a thousand tiny demons. Jo wasn’t going to let that stop her. She started walking toward the door, part of her idly noting the ruby splashes of blood she was leaving on the bare cement floor.
She finally made it to the doorway and stepped into the wind torn darkness beyond. She could hear the fight before she could see it, her eyes needing a moment to adjust to the darkness. The wet slam of fists hitting flesh and grunts of pain assailed her ears. Two dark forms took shape less than a dozen feet from her, one of them moving hard and fast, the other barely moving at all. Her night vision kicked in just in time to see Tag slam his fist into Greg’s stomach. The smaller man staggered back, one arm flailing and the other hanging limply at his side. Tag moved in again, and this time Jo caught a flash of silver as he hit Greg with punch that sent her ex crashing to the ground with a barely coherent moan of pain.
She knew that every blow Tag landed was for her. He was her dark knight, her personal protector, and she loved him fiercely in that moment as he put down the man who had made her life so miserable.
“Not so fun when you’re the one getting hit, is it?” she asked and Tag’s head snapped around to look at her, his face a mask of fury that softened the second their eyes met.
“Angel, put the gun down.” He murmured and she glanced down at her hand, surprised to see that she had the weapon pointed at Greg, who lay sprawled in the middle of her backyard. There was something deeply satisfying about knowing she had the power over him now. For once, the abusive bastard was at her mercy. She could end this. Make it so that Greg could never hurt her again.
As fast as the thought came, she dismissed it. Taking a life wasn’t who she was. She was better than that. Better than him. Jo lowered her arm, carefully moving her finger off the trigger as the world came back into focus.
Tag was there a heartbeat later, dropping the wrench he’d been carrying on to the ground as he took the gun from her limp fingers. She let it go without protest, knowing she didn’t need it anymore.
“Put your hand back over the hole where that bastard shot you and press down hard. You’re still bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital.” Tag spoke, keeping the gun trained on Greg the whole time.
“I hate hospitals,” she grumbled. Taking a deep breath, she peeled back some of the destroyed edge of her coat to look at the wound for the first time.
Well, that explains why it hurts so damned much.
There was a chunk of flesh missing from her arm where the bullet had plowed through the meat of her upper arm. She gritted her teeth and clamped her hand over the laceration, hissing through her teeth as a fresh wave of pain washed over.
He ran his free hand over her body, checking for injuries before he wrapped his arm around her waist and tucked her in against his side, lending her his strength and support. “I don’t like hospitals either, but they have really good drugs. Trust me, you’re going to want them when the shock wears off. You’re okay apart from the arm though, right?”
“Just my arm. Getting shot sucks,” she muttered, leaning into the solid warmth of his body. It was so cold out here that her teeth were starting to chatter.
“Believe me, I know.” The sound of sirens pierced the air, and Tag breathed a near silent sigh of relief.
“You think that’s for us?” she asked, dimly aware that she should have called 9-1-1 instead of picking up the gun and going outside. It hadn’t even occurred to her at the time.
“Take a look around, angel. We’ve got all your neighbors watching through the windows, and I bet every single one of them has called the cops. Gunshots and brawls tend to make people do that.”
Tag nodded toward the homes on either side of them and Jo finally noticed the number of people peering at them through curtains and blinds.
“I hope they enjoyed the show. There won’t be an encore.”
“Damn right. This was a onetime only event.” Tag’s arm tightened around her and his voice deepened to a gruff rumble. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you.”
“You couldn’t have known. No one could have known he’d do this. If you hadn’t been with me tonight…” Jo trailed off, not wanting to say anything more. Words had power, and she didn’t need to say it out loud to know just how close she’d come to death tonight.
On the ground in front of them, Greg groaned and tried to lift his head. “Ruined…everything…”
White-hot rage flared through her, pushing back the pain and all the emotions fogging her mind. “I didn’t ruin things, you bastard. You did that all on your own. And now you’re going to go to jail and I will never have to see or hear from you again. I win, Greg. I’ll have my home, and my business, and a man who loves me, and you get nothing.”
The sirens were coming closer, and she knew that within a minute or two this would all be over. She’d survived. Better than that, she’d won. She’d conquered her past, with Tag’s help, and now she knew the future was going to be a good one. It had to be, because she was going to make it that way.
Chapter Eleven
In the weeks since the attack, Tag’s whole life had transformed. The changes had started the day he’d met Jolena, but these days they were coming thick and fast. Not that he was complaining. His life was full again, full of purpose and laughter and reasons to get up every morning and face the world.
