Page 112 of Ravage
I follow this dance we’re doing and remove my boots and socks. Then put all the weapons I had on me on the counter. “Tell me.”
Jack circles me like a predator. “You wear it trying to blend in at night. Because you think bad deeds can only happen in the dark.”
“Don’t they?”
He stops behind me. Natural instinct screams at me to turn around. Never let a predator see my back. My pulse sledgehammers. I clench my hands at my sides and try to relax, but my breathing only quickens when my hair shifts over my shoulder, and I feel him drawing closer to me.
“No.” His voice is dripped in darkness and sin, and I shiver in anticipation. He’s not even touching me and my underwear is soaked. “Some of the worst things happen in the daylight. By the very people you think you can trust. People who wear masks far better than any real monsters.”
He plants his hands on my hips and pins me back against him. His hard length digs into me, and I writhe into it.
“Why do you wear black then?” I pant, trying to keep playing the game but failing miserably with how desperately I want him to keep touching me. His hands play across my every curve, stroking up my inner thigh and slipping up my shirt. It’s like he’s using his hands to memorize every line of my body by touch alone.
It’s intoxicating.
Empowering.
“So that my enemies never see me bleed,” he finally answers me. His tongue paints a line up my carotid artery to my ear. “An enemy who never appears injured, no matter what you do, is terrifying.”
“Jackson,” I beg.
His teeth scrape across my pulse as he drags my shirt up over my breasts. The clasp comes undone and then both of his hands find and grab them. My nipples are tugged and teased and pinched and my hips squirm harder against him.
I’m yanked back tightly into him and gasp with surprise, because I can feel both of his hands still higher up. Nothing keeps them still, but I can feel it. Then a soft, teasing pressure tickles through my pants at the apex of my thighs, and I jolt in shock, as much as the invisible band at my hips allows me.
Jackson chuckles into my skin. The invisible wind or hand or whatever it is continues to caress and fondle me through my pants until my legs shake. The band around my hips and Jackson’s hold on me keep me from falling. I’d be putty on the floor without them.
“I want you so badly, Raegan. I’ve always—” He hesitates for a moment and I’m afraid he might actually throw the L-word out and I’ll go running for the hills. He hums under his breath. “—wanted you,” he finishes. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
The pressure on my clit intensifies just as the invisible hold on my hips keeps me from running away when it becomes too much at once.
“Oh God. Jackson. I’m going to come.”
Everything comes to a crashing halt when he releases me. My orgasm, which had been creeping up my back and preparing to detonate, deflates and flies out of reach. Frustration replaces it and I whirl around at him.
“What happened? Why did you stop?” I demand on a breathless exhale.
“I’m yours, little one, but not like this.” He steps up to me so I have to crane my neck back to look at him. “I’m not just going to be your distraction like you’re doing with Kellan. When you’re ready for me, really ready to take my leash, then you can have all of me.”
He kisses me, and I fight him at first, still pissed at what I just lost, but his tongue wipes away the anger and I sink into him. His arms cocoon me, and I fall deeper into his kiss like quicksand. Or tar. Smooth and dark and impossible to get free of once you’ve been touched by it.
Jackson breaks off the kiss and plants a gentle one on my forehead while I re-orient myself with where I am. He slips his hoodie back on and throws his hood back up, tucks his feet into his boots without tying them, then leaves my apartment.
I collapse into the nearest chair, leaning back and taking my hand to my clit, hoping I can stir my orgasm back around.
I keep forgetting that while Jackson was always there for me, and still clearly is, he was never less of an asshole than the others.
Chapter twenty-eight
Raegan
Congressman Joe has gone into hiding.
It’s only been a day since we rescued the little girl—Isabel—from his home. It may be too early to make that call, but when I checked with his public schedule where he was supposed to be appearing, he never showed.
Does his sudden disappearance mean he’s gone to GE to regroup? Should I be more worried about what kidnap attempt he’ll try next? Will he involve other brainwashed gifted people the longer this drags on until he finally has me?
He knows who I am now. Any of my attempts at learning more about him risk me falling into one of his traps. But is there any other way right now? He’s my only lead, and he clearly has the ear of the board as a potential member.
