Jake: The Sinner Saints #3 (13 page)

It was enough to send her over the edge.

Verity closed her eyes and cried out as white-hot pleasure engulfed her. Her whole body shook, clenching tight around him.

Jake held her through the whole thing, carrying her through the fire. A growl escaped his lips as she started to emerge from the other side.

“Holy shit, Verity. I like the way you come,” he said against her ear. “Do it again.”

Before her lips could form a response, he was back at it, relentlessly thrusting inside of her. Suddenly she was climbing. Higher and higher, until the pleasure couldn’t be held back any longer.

This time she crashed against him as she orgasmed, going limp in his arms. There was no way she could hold herself. She was too spent. Too drunk on sensation.

And Jake was right there with her.

She felt his knees hitch for a brief second as he let out a low groan. His grip on her tightened, and his whole body went rigid. He pulsed deep inside her, again and again, following her into the fire.

Verity had no idea how long it took her to recover her breath, but when she finally managed to open her eyes, she found Jake gazing at her face.

Damn, he was gorgeous. Especially, now.

He looked like he had given her every bit of himself. There was hardly any tension in him. Even the lines around his eyes had softened. If she didn’t know any better, Verity would have said that he was content.

And truth be told, so was she.

“I think you can let go of me now,” she said as the moment stretched on.

The corners of his lips quirked up and Verity felt her heart flutter.

Flutter
? When the hell did that ever happen?

After getting screwed witless up against a wall, apparently.

“No I can’t,” he said.

Verity tightened her grip around him as he moved away from the wall and walked her over to his bed. He leaned down and laid her on top of the mattress.

“How about now?” she asked with a small laugh.

“Not yet,” he said, sliding in next to her.

“When then?”

“Ask me again in the morning,” Jake teased, slinging his arm around her waist and nestling her close against his chest. “But no promises.”

Chapter Nine

Someone was at the door.

Jake’s eyes popped open. Every muscle in his body came to life as the realization filtered through his dreams.

And he had been asleep. Deep in sleep. For the first time in weeks—months even.

But not anymore.

For a moment, nothing happened. Silence filled the room long enough for Jake to hope that he was merely overreacting. That it was nothing more than a false alarm. That he was so out of practice that he was jumping at shadows.

Then he heard the sound again—the soft slide of the metal deadbolt gently being pried back. There was no denying it.

Someone was out there trying to get in.

And whoever they were, they were good. Professional good.

Too bad for them Jake was better.

He rolled over, reaching out for his weapon on the bedside table. Verity’s sleeping body moved with him. She mumbled something incoherent against his shoulder but didn’t wake up.

He draped a protective arm over her body as he sat up and disengaged the safety, as the barely audible click of the door handle being pushed down sounded. The door cracked open an inch. Then another.

Jake waited until one black boot pushed through onto the carpet before opening his mouth.

"I would think long and hard about taking another step,” Jake said in a hushed voice.

Verity stirred slightly against his side, but didn't open her eyes. What was more important, the man at the door stopped.

“I warned everyone back at the office that you wouldn’t be happy to see me,” a familiar voice said. “But I didn’t expect that you’d shoot me just for showing up at your door.”

"Bowie?" Jake said, his brows pulling together.

A second later, his suspicions were confirmed when his old friend stepped through the door.

“What the hell were you thinking breaking into my motel room?” Jake asked, clicking the safety back into place.

“From what I hear, everybody’s doing it these days.”

“You’re afraid I’m getting rusty.” It wasn’t a question. Jake knew how to interpret his friend’s words.

Bowie didn’t turn on the lights, but there was enough glow filtering in through the open door for Jake to watch him shrug as he leaned against the wall.

“That,” Bowie admitted before tilting his head to pointedly stare at Verity’s sleeping head on the pillow. “Or distracted.”

Jake instinctually tugged the sheet higher over her shoulder.

“But I wasn’t,” he said simply.

“I don’t know,” Bowie said. “It certainly sounded that way when I stopped by your door earlier tonight.”

Jake ground his back teeth together. “So, Carter sent you to test me?”

“Not hardly,” Bowie said, shaking his head. “The
Captain
has every faith in you.”

Jake arched a brow. “But you don’t?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I’d trust you with my life, Jake.” Bowie’s gaze slid back toward Verity. “
Her
on the other hand…”

“
Her
name is Verity,” Jake said, his jaw tight.

“Yeah. I know who Roman Green’s sister is.”

Jake’s hands instinctually curled into fists.

“You might know her name, but you don’t know her.”

“I know she’s wanted by the FBI for her involvement with stolen international artifacts,” Bowie said. “Sounds like the Green family trade to me.”

“She’s being framed,” Jake said, his voice dropping even lower. “Verity is nothing like her brother."

“I hope you’re right.” Bowie crossed his arms in front of his chest. “For your sake.”

Jake didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. Bowie knew better than anyone else the price that had to be paid when Jake made a mistake.

Better than anyone
other
than Charlie—the woman Bowie was secretly in love with.

Well, maybe secretly wasn’t the right word. Everyone knew. Not that anyone ever said a word about it, yet there was no denying it. It was as obvious as the sun in the sky or the waves on the ocean.

And Jake was the man who had almost gotten Charlie killed.

Another wave of guilt washed over Jake as the vivid memory of that terrible morning replayed once more in his head.

He’d never spoken to Bowie about the ambush that had happened in Charlie’s apartment that morning—the sudden screams, the acrid smoke of gunfire, and the vivid sight of Charlie’s blood.

So much of her blood.

No wonder Bowie was glowering down at him now. Who the hell was Jake to spend his nights sleeping with his arms around a beautiful woman after all the mistakes that he’d made?

He swallowed down past the lump of shame in his throat. “Then why did Carter send you out here?”

“Because no matter how Miss Green has managed to drag you into this trouble, you’re in deep. You need backup.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re here to clean up my mess.”

It didn’t sound like Carter had all that much faith in him after all.

“I’m not going to lie, Jake. A lot of people back home are worried about you,” Bowie said.

“I’m fine,” Jake said through gritted teeth.

“You’ve been hiding out from us in the middle of nowhere for a long time now,” Bowie went on. “They’re worried that you’re going to do something stupid.”

Jake let out a bitter laugh. “You mean they’re worried I’m going to get someone killed.”

Bowie slowly shook his head. “Not
someone
. You.”

Jake stilled. “I’m not suicidal.”

“Maybe not,” Bowie said, his brows arching. “But tell me something, Jake. Would you die for her? Some woman you’ve only known for a couple of days?”

In a heartbeat.

Jake’s jaw clenched as the thought flew into his head without hesitation. Silence filled the room.

“That’s what I thought,” Bowie said, unfolding his arms.

“I already told you, her name is Verity. She’s not just
some woman
, Bowie,” Jake said. “You, out of all the people in the world, should understand that.”

Even through the low light of the room, Jake could see the lines around Bowie’s eyes harden as his glower intensified.

“It’s late,” Bowie said, his lips tight. He pushed his back off the wall and moved toward the door. “Maybe we should continue this talk in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” Jake said flatly.

“I’ve taken a room at the far end of the motel,” Bowie said as he took a step outside. “Nothing personal, but it didn’t seem like you two would make the best neighbors.”

A second later, the door clicked closed. Jake reached over her and placed his gun back on the table. He scooted back down the bed and spooned his body around the curve of Verity’s back as he closed his eyes.

But sleep didn’t come easy this time. His mind was too caught up in the words Bowie had said, and the realization that he would willingly die for the woman he was now cradling.

And not just because she was his responsibility.

There was so much more to his feelings than that.

It was the way she looked at him. The understanding in her eyes. The passion in her blood. The courage in her soul. All of it called out to Jake, and his heart couldn’t help but answer.

Jake had no idea how to name the emotions that were kindling deep inside him. All he knew for certain was what he had in his arms this very second—the comfort of her warm body, the gentle rise and fall of her breath carrying him back to sleep.

And right now, that was enough.

***

Verity woke up to the sound of bedsprings creaking.

At first, it wasn’t enough to rouse her. Not completely, at least. Her eyelids felt heavy, and it was so warm and cozy under the covers. She refused to believe it was time to get up. Surely, she and Jake had at least a few more minutes to snuggle before they had to face the day.

She rolled over on her side, ready to drape her arms over his wide chest…and hit nothing but empty mattress.

Her eyes popped open just in time to see Jake pulling his jeans up over his bare backside.

Well, at least she hadn’t slept through
all
the good parts.

But why was he getting up at all? She peeked over at the faint light coming in from the sides of the front window. It was still early.

“What’s going on?” she asked, lifting herself on bent arms.

Jake froze.

“Sorry,” he said, without turning around. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought you were a deep sleeper.”

Verity let out a little laugh. He was right. Usually she was. But there was something about Jake leaving that yanked her right out of dreamland.

“Are you going somewhere?”

His back tensed, almost as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to…

Oh, crap
.

Realization slowly crept into Verity’s sleepy brain.

He had been going somewhere. Someplace away from her and the awkward reality of what they’d done last night.

Verity bit into her lower lip.

“Cool,” she said, feeling anything but. “I mean, I get it. Last night was a crazy, one time thi—”

“Amazing,” he said, turning around suddenly and cutting her off. “Last night was amazing, and I don’t regret a single moment.”

“Oh.” The adamance of his words shocked her. “So, where
are
you going?”

He walked over to his bag and pulled out a fresh shirt. “I need to meet with someone from my office.”

“Here in Augustville?” Verity asked, sitting up.

“Here at the motel.”

Verity’s brows pulled together. “How do you know that?”

He paused before answering, taking the time to pull the dark shirt over his head, but Verity had the sneaking suspicion that he was stalling.

“Because he came by the room last night,” Jake finally answered.

“Wait. What?”
Verity shot up in the bed. Her fingers curled tight around the bed sheet as she clutched it to her chest. “He
came by this room
? While I was asleep?”

Verity couldn’t sustain the flash of anger though. Not after Jake turned toward her. The expression on his face went beyond apologetic, and Verity realized that whatever shame Jake was feeling, it went a hell of a lot deeper than just forgetting to tell her about their late night visitor.

“He wasn’t here very long,” he explained. “I didn’t see the point of waking you.”

Verity nodded. “So, who is this guy?”

“Bowie Tamatoa,” Jake said. “He’s a friend.”

Funny, but judging by the hard edge in Jake’s voice the guy sounded like anything but.

“And he does the same thing at Macmillan Security as you?”

“Mostly,” Jake said. “Though Bowie specializes in salvaging disasters.”

“That certainly sounds like us,” Verity said.

She swung her feet down off the mattress and planted them on the floor. Jake’s brows pulled together as she stood up.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she bent down and grabbed her pants off the floor.

A little blush lit up her cheeks as she remembered exactly how they’d ended up in such a wrinkled pile.

“What does it look like?” Verity said as she pulled them on. “I’m getting dressed so I can go with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “Bowie’s just down at the end of the hall. It shouldn’t take me too long to talk with him.”

“Great,” she said, looking around the base of the bed for her shoes and shirt. “Then we should be back here pretty quick.”

Jake let out a deep sigh. “What I mean is I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Verity raised her head. “And why’s that?”

“Because Bowie can be…a little gruff sometimes.”

Verity didn’t try to stifle the laugh that bubbled out between her lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You calling someone else
gruff
.” She finished tying her shoes and stood up. “Don’t worry. After the past few days I don’t think anything can throw me for a loop.”

“That’s because you don’t know Bowie.”

“Yeah, but I know
you
.” She walked over and stroked her hands all the way down the outside of his arms. “And I can tell something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine.”

She arched her brows. Like hell he was.

“Either you’re upset over having to face this Bowie guy. In which case, I don’t want you to deal with him alone. Or, you’re worried about something he’s going to tell you about our
disastrous situation
. In which case, I want to be there to hear the truth.” Verity let go of him and walked over to the door. “Either way, I’m coming with you.”