Jack, page 15
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him access the locked files, then looked away and re-focused on her thing. The clacking of keyboards and clicks of mouse filled the air, but even more so was his presence: a very strong presence, calm as a lake but vibrating with an internal energy that she wondered at.
Eventually, the energy became so palpable that she decided there was no ignoring it. A quick glance at the clock indicated that it was almost six in the evening, which meant that they’d been working nonstop.
“Are you working on the murder case?” she asked.
Still focused on his monitor, Jack shook his head. “I was earlier. But it’s a dead-end still. I’m working on some new security upgrades.”
“What kind of upgrades? And what kind of security do you provide, anyway?”
“Same as the ones I have here: coded doors, window bars, coded elevators. For condominiums and apartment buildings, those work. Most people don’t want barred windows 24/7, so they opt for either scheduled timers or manual locking.”
“Oh. So I’m guessing that even without this place being a pocket, it would still be hard to infiltrate?”
“It’ll be hard, but not impossible. Explosives are still a thing if they want to be loud. But yes. It would be almost impossible.” His tone was matter-of-fact, not arrogant. It made her believe him. “For mansions and houses and lots, their setup is different. Same locking mechanisms on windows and doors but added sensors to the lawns and interior that they can activate when they need to. Some sensors are permanent. They connect to a database system specific for that certain client, and they can recognize faces, even strangers, especially if those strangers have public files. They can also tell the client if there’s a breach, no matter where in the world that client is. They can call my security company or the police, and we’ll dispatch someone right away.”
“What are you working on upgrading right now?”
“Just some enhancements on old sensors. I’m trying to make it detect at a better distance. I’m also working on a security camera that can access the house and lot’s surroundings, detect faces in the neighborhood. People walking by, people hiding in bushes. It’s more common than you think.”
What he was doing wasn’t common, but brilliant. He gave her some more enhancements, most of which she could only understand the basics of. Obviously, Jack focused on sensors, while her skill was mostly on frequencies, tracking, and fixing. She listened on in fascination, questions bursting out of curiosity, but excitement simmering more. Eventually, that excitement settled down for her to realize one thing: that despite the animated way Jack was talking about his work, there was no denying the tired slump of his shoulders.
She perked up, holding up a hand. He frowned, concern shadowing his gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
“You.”
Jack blinked. “Me?”
“Yes. I think you should get some rest. You look tired.”
Ice-blue eyes narrowed. “So do you.”
“I got a lot of rest last night.”
“So did I.”
“Then maybe you just need a break from work.”
He considered that. “Maybe. But so do you.”
The insistent concern that she should get as much rest as he did—maybe more—wasn’t lost on her, and it made her amused and exasperated. She gave him a pointed look, which he returned.
“If I rest, then are you going to rest?”
“It’s too early, Kit.”
“I didn’t say rest as in sleep,” she pointed out. “I mean rest as in get out of this workspace and…” And what? Watch television? Hang out on the couch? Have dinner at the kitchen counter?
Usually, that would be fine, even wonderful with her, but now it just didn’t seem like a good idea—not with how Jack was looking at her, and how she was bound to misinterpret it and act stupid all over again. Not with how bold and vulnerable she felt, and how her feelings for him seemed to be forming a nagging, pulsing ache that she couldn’t get rid of. If she sat pressed to him on the stool, or on the couch, or just anywhere around this apartment, she was pretty sure she was going to end up toeing the line or simply going for it.
Like climb his lap, for one. Like press her mouth to his, to get a taste of the kiss she was craving since it happened.
What a stupid idea to kiss him, really. But she’d been in a panic, and it had been the hottest kiss of her life—all heat, hunger, and raving energy that swirled into one and turned her into a monster. That monster wanted to taste all of him, wanted him to touch all of her…
Kit cleared her throat, her body promptly throbbing at the reminder. She pressed her thighs together to alleviate the pleasure-pain, desperately trying to think of other activities that didn’t involve any physical intimacy.
An idea came in mind, and she went with it.
“How about we disguise ourselves and go out to eat? I know a place where no one will look for us.”
Chapter 20
When she said she knew a place where no one would look for them, Jack was expecting some restaurant in another part of New York, maybe even farther, where no one would consider finding them. He’d thought it was overkill, considering she’d dyed her hair a darker brown and was dressed in all black, and he’d gone for a lighter gray material and had his hair dyed, too: a lighter color than his usual shade, which she assured him was temporary and would fade on the first wash.
Kit didn’t take them to a restaurant, but to a carnival in Brooklyn—one that was filled with lights, colors, and the weekend crowd, and all of which he was sure were humans. It was the perfect hideaway for a few hours, and the delight of such a brilliant, simple strategy eventually wore off and switched to excitement as Kit took his wrist and cajoled him to follow her.
“Do you come here often?” he asked, looking around. The carnival was located in a huge lot that was once an abandoned park, and it was thriving. The entrance, as most entrances were, was filled with stalls of food, the scents of them permeating the air and making his stomach grumble. It was a reminder that his lunch had been a quick one.
Naturally, she pulled him to a stall filled with cotton candy. With a frown, he tugged at her until she was following him; her protests halted when he stopped in front of a hotdog stand. They eyed each other, as it did not escape them that their last hotdog stand moment was when those vampires had attacked.
“Dinner first, then dessert,” he said. “Please. Fill your stomach with actual food.”
Kit rolled her eyes. “Desserts are actual food and it’s not like a hotdog holds much weight in the food category. But alright. Hotdog sounds great, anyway.”
They got the hotdogs and ate, then went for cheeseburgers after. Next were some fancy mint chocolates and fresh squeezed lemon juice—something Kit insisted on, as she wanted her palate cleansed before she went for more sweets. She got her cotton candy, some ice cream, and wine-filled chocolates, tearing through the first and second before she happily carried her chocolate box and offered him some. It was dark chocolate mixed with sweet wine, and Jack found himself eating from her box, too, and delighting in the little glares she gave him.
They wandered to the game stalls, hitting bottles with balls to win stuffed toys and target blocks with arrows to win more prizes. To his utter amazement, Kit aced the target games and was soon filled to the brim with winning prizes, which she ended up dumping in his arms.
“Don’t tell me we’re bringing all of this home,” he grumbled incredulously.
She smirked. “I’m not telling you, because that’s not happening. Watch and learn.” She picked up a stuffed toy, then approached a kid walking around with his parents. Jack listened in as she handed the toy to the kid and gave some story about a handsome man winning her prizes, and her being so overwhelmed with the mass bulk of it. Eventually, Jack's arms were empty, as she successfully distributed the toys and prizes around.
Armed with the need to prove himself worthy of that story, Jack stalked to the next stall, ignoring her bursts of questioning. Then he began throwing more balls and hitting targets until she was spluttering with laughter. Twenty minutes later, he won her three stuffed toys: a fluffy bunny, a shiny turtle, and a sparkling unicorn, all of which she accepted with a giddy grin.
“Are you giving those away, too?” he asked.
In response, she gave the bunny and unicorn to more kids, then hugged the turtle tight to her chest.
“Everything except this one,” she finally declared.
“Why not that one?”
Her response was accompanied by her cheeks coloring pleasantly. “Because this one reminds me of you.”
He raised a brow. “How does it remind you of me?”
“Hard shell on the outside, softie on the inside.”
“Kitty…”
“I love it when you call me that,” she confessed. “It sounds cheesy when others say it, but it just sounds right with you. Anyway, yes, you’re a turtle. Don’t even bother denying it.”
It was the single most precious thing anyone had ever said to him, and he found himself speechless. With a smile, Kit walked closer until they were inches away, looking up at him and meeting his gaze.
“I won’t deny it, then,” he finally said in a low voice.
“Good. Turtles are irresistible to me, and so are you.”
Her lips pressed against his cheek, a gentle caress. It took everything he had not to turn his head and take the kiss to a different level, and it took all muscle control to keep his body in place and not press against her to feel more than he was feeling right now. It worked because he was still in place when the kiss finally ended.
But it was too late because now he was twice as aware of her and fighting the temptation of every moment they were together.
In another throwing stall, she jumped up in joy when she won and almost had him turning her around for a kiss. In another dessert stall, he groaned inside his head at the way her tongue darted out to lick her ice cream cone, thoughts of how good it would feel to suck on that tongue instead filling him—better yet, on where that tongue could lick him. Kit invited him to ride a roller coaster, which he said yes to as he thought it would provide a temporary relief from being so close to her.
What he hadn’t realized was at the front of the ride, they’d be sitting side by side, pressed against each other where he could feel her vibrating energy to full effect.
Damn it.
Kit turned to him, her lips nearly brushing his ear. Her hand went to his knee, squeezing, and he had to grip the bars tight. She noticed, of course, and moved that hand on top of his, massaging. Reassuring, but also tingling the tips of his fingers and turning his whole body into a hot, throbbing mess.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s going to be fun. I promise it won’t be too crazy.”
He cleared his dry throat. “Yeah?”
“Yes. I’m right here.”
Her hand intertwined with his, her head resting on his shoulder.
And he was a goner, whether he liked it or not.
Perhaps he liked it too much.
The rollercoaster ride was long—or perhaps it was just long because every shift, every turn had her close to him: the soft skin of her thigh, her toned arm, her fingers digging against his jeans. Her hot breath, gasping and groaning at the dives, reminiscent of when a woman would gasp and groan because of something else. He gritted his teeth, leaned against her, too—went crazy with the scent of her pheromones, steeped in her excitement and natural sweat.
The ride finished, and she finally sighed out in relief. Hard as a rock and pulsing at every step—and every damn contact with her—he tried to get out of his dazed state and suggested the first thing that came to mind.
“Let’s drink.”
Naturally, she wasn’t mad at that invitation. They left the carnival and found a spot near it where they sold cocktails and sake, which they thought was perfect.
“Wines are overrated,” was Kit’s declaration before ordering sex on the beach with a straight face. Trying not to laugh, Jack ordered some scotch and sipped some of her cocktails with her. They paired it with chips and salsa.
“Tell me your most embarrassing cop story,” she demanded.
He sipped, thinking it over. “One time, I was patrolling the neighborhood with Lemuel and we got an emergency call from a residential area—something about being stuck and needing us to get them out. It turns out the couple was having sex, and there was…a locking situation.”
“A locking situation?”
Jack sighed heavily. “Penis captivus. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it…”
“Of course I've heard of it. Holy shit! So they were locked in? Naked and all that?”
“Well, no, they were dressed up—roleplaying as guys in some anime. It wasn’t until I got there that things started taking a turn.” When she remained silent and expectant, he sighed again. “We could’ve talked them into relaxing so they could disengage, but my presence apparently…excited him.”
“You got him hard,” she clarified, giving him a pointed look. “One look at you and he was so aroused, he couldn’t relax and got hard and throbbing.”
His cheeks heated, and her eyes gleamed. Jack glared. “Yes, since you want the specifics.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Fine. They got even more locked in because of me, and we had to call an ambulance to take them to the hospital. She was screaming the whole way because she didn’t realize he was bi.”
Kit’s eyes widened. “Even after roleplaying as a guy? Wow.” The grin was playing on her lips, but she was doing her best to keep it down. “Honestly, I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not?”
“About the lock situation, yes. About him getting aroused by you? No. I mean, look at you. I had a crush on you the moment I first saw you, even though you were unconscious and bleeding on my cot.”
“You did?”
“Yes,” she said with feeling, leaning closer. Her breath was hot against his. “A hot, instant lust because you were so pretty. Gorgeous, with all your hard surfaces. My hands had to touch you to help bandage you up, and your abs…holy freaking goodness.” She sat back, grinning. “But you ruined all of it when you woke up and got all investigative on me. So now I’m over it.”
Except he wasn’t because he could just imagine her hands touching him. Running over him. Being efficient while she caressed his skin, her face and body close. The image was so crystal clear that he had to grip his glass at the sudden blackening of his vision.
Whatever arousal he’d been trying to tame down with the alcohol now came back in full force, pressing against his pants until he was tight and uncomfortable.
Of course, he resolved it by ordering more drinks for them, which Kit happily accepted. It eased him up, allowing him to tease her back whenever she teased him.
“You’re certainly no longer a grouch when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not a grouch, and I’m not drunk.”
“You will be,” she promised. “And I’ll be crowing over your abs and claiming victory over non-drunkenness.”
“You’re obsessed with my abs.”
“You’re obsessed with winning.”
“Watch me do it again tonight.”
Her eyes sparked. “Oh, it’s on.”
They drank and ate for hours, up until it was close to midnight and they had to get home. He didn’t win the bet, but neither did she, and they both commuted in a daze back to his apartment building, where they bypassed the front area and went for the back alley. There, most of Jack’s daze wore off as he eyed his surroundings, ensuring there was no one but them around. When it was clear, he tugged her to the dumpster, pulling it aside and watching as it glided without a hitch.
Kit gaped. “Wheels?”
“Yes, very small ones.” He pointed to a digital pad at the dumpster’s back, which lit up at his fingerprint. It split part of the wall aside, revealing a space for entering. “We step in, and this whole thing returns to its spot. Come on.”
Eyes wide with fascination, she nodded and took the hand he offered to her. They stepped in the pocket entrance, landing in a room that had nothing but boxes. Quietly, Jack handed her an alcohol spray, then cleaned his hands before he pulled her out of there. He could hear her muttering about neat freaks before she giggled, which had him glancing at her.
“We’re on the third floor. Holy shit. And we’re going to ride the same elevator to the penthouse, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes were cloudy, almost sleepy with happiness. With contentment. Boldly, she stepped in the elevator first, pulling him inside in an almost playful manner before inputting the code to the top. The door closed with a ding, leaving them alone, where she leaned against one side and just kept watching him.
He watched her in return, taking in everything: the mussed up, dyed hair, the natural brown eyes that she didn’t put contacts over. The flushed skin, all creamy and smooth. His hands itched.
“Jack?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m drunk. Or tipsy. Or drunk.”
“Yeah.”
“I tend to say things when I am.”
“Hmm.”
“I like looking at you,” she blurted out, then blushed so deeply before she laughed—mostly as if she were laughing at herself. It made her eyes sparkle, made her come alive.
It made him hard, as hard as he’d ever been, raging with a pent up desire that had been dormant until he’d met her.
Until he’d gotten to know her.
“You do?”
“I like it a lot, and it’s been one of the best highlights of my day. You’re cute, and you’re hiding too much. Honestly, I like what you’re hiding a lot.” Brown flared, darkening. “You’re not just soft on the inside, but caring. Sturdy. Loyal.”
He glanced at the toy she was still hugging to her chest. “Like a turtle,” he added.
“Yes. Just like a turtle.” Kit winced. “The comparison sucks, I know.”
“No. The comparison is perfect.”
Silence filled the elevator space, the slow rise a glowing thing in the dim lights. Jack pushed his back off the wall, walking over to where the controls were—which, coincidentally, was beside her.
