Jack, page 17
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
What the hell was he missing?
Already getting a slight headache from assessing and reassessing since seven in the morning, he closed his laptop with a soft snap and rose up from the couch. Kit was moving towards him, her hair braided loosely and swinging with every step. She was wearing a blue checkered skirt, legs smooth, and a black tank top that hugged her curves tightly, especially around the breast area. The top button of that tank top was undone, teasing cleavage, and he swallowed and tried not to gawk.
When he met her gaze, he realized her brown eyes were gleaming. She stood on tiptoe, balancing some of the height difference as she took his mouth and teasingly cajoled it open. Her tongue danced, and her fingers curled at the nape of his neck.
Pleasure and desire surged, and his hand caressed down her waist. He hadn’t realized he was already moving her to the nearest wall until they were there. Then they were no longer at the wall but inside some dim space: a supply area just at the back of the DJ room, which was closed for the rest of the night and automated to play music until the next DJ’s morning shift. The supply area wasn’t a room, but a space covered by a plywood partition. It blocked them from the windows out at the front.
There, Jack kissed her more aggressively, unable to get enough of her taste. Her hands went to his shoulders in a surprised grasp, and she leaned back. Eyes cloudy and heavy with arousal met his, a sight that made him growl possessively.
“We just…we were at it all night,” she said, biting her lower lip. She was trying to force back a smile. “We’re…this is…”
“We’re all alone,” he rasped, hands skimming under her skirt. Tracing the edge of her panties, where she trembled for him. “You’re closed for the night.”
“Karisha will be here in half an hour,” she whispered, voice trembling. “She has a key, and…oh. Oh.”
The sound was pure sex, smoky from her throat as he inserted a finger inside her. His senses flared when he felt how wet she was, slickly meeting his touch and clamping around him. Jack slowly slid his finger in and out, lips whispering against her cheek.
“We have half an hour. We only need twenty minutes.”
She inhaled shakily. Despite his teasing, he half expected her to refuse and braced himself for it, not wanting to take what wasn’t given. He could always touch her at home—taste the parts he hadn’t tasted yet, explore every inch until she was screaming for him…
“Make it ten,” Kit demanded in a voice trembling with need.
His blood thickened, his heart pounding in his throat. With a growl of assent, Jack returned to kissing her, letting the control go as they worked together to yank down her tank top, her bra—then, slip her panties down and take his cock out. In one smooth plunge, he was so deep inside her, and the feeling of that tight wetness urged him on as he started moving right away.
Unlike last night, where they'd slowly taken the time to taste what they’d missed on the first night, this one was straight up fucking: pure lust rolled together as he hitched her hips up and pounded inside her. Every thrust pressed her back against the wall, her legs wrapping around him for leverage. Her hands kept moving, clutching his hair before roaming his arms, then playing at the nape of his neck.
Her nipples rubbed against his chest, right before she removed his shirt and pinched his nipple. Jack groaned, hips pistoning faster, astonished at how much she stretched for him and met every powerful drive.
He would’ve wanted slow and deep, but there was only time for fast. So he took it, driving hard and powerfully until every sound out of her was desperate—until she was clawing at his back again in that desperation.
One last piston and Kit was coming for him: hard, almost violent, arching her body up as she lost herself in it. He kissed her, anchored her this time, still pounding continuously until he thickened further before he shattered inside her.
It consumed him, the release filled with pleasure and taking a long time to fade. When he came down from his high, it was to find Kit raining kisses on his cheeks. The softness of that gesture after their fast fucking made him smile.
He met her gaze, male satisfaction brimming at the sight of her satisfied, almost sleepy expression. Reluctantly, they both separated, cleaning themselves up in the aftermath. Then she narrowed her eyes at him.
“You seduced me,” she accused.
Biting back a smirk, he gave her a pointed look. “You asked for ten minutes.”
Her lips quirked. “Maybe. But this can’t happen again.”
There wasn’t much conviction in her voice, which almost had him chuckling. Pants already zipped and shirt back in place, he stepped out of the hidden space, body loose and just as satisfied as she was.
He froze when his gaze locked in on something, trying to figure it out.
Then he went cold all over, ice piercing his heart. Before Kit could step forward, he was gripping her hard.
“Jack?”
“Tell your friend Karisha to hurry.”
“What? Why?”
Without a word, he pointed.
Jack watched Kit’s face go pale at she stared at the security camera, usually circling the general vicinity of the radio booth, now pointed and blinking their way.
* * *
“So you’re telling me you can’t trace the hacker right now, even with all the equipment you have related to these things?”
Frustration rose inside Jack at Killian’s words, reminding him of the rage he'd felt earlier when he did manage to get something from the security camera: a video of him teasing Kit, right before he’d hurriedly dragged her to the so-called blind spot. Their fucking had been hidden by the partition, but the edges of his elbows had been visible, as well as the edge of her leg as it had wrapped around him. It was obvious even to a stupid man what they'd been doing, and it made him want to lash out at the thought that what intimate moment he'd shared with Kit had been watched.
Slowly, Jack shook his head. He was careful not to say the actual content of the video, not wanting it spread further. “No. I was able to trace the recording up until a week ago, and it mostly followed Kit’s movements inside the radio station. Someone’s hacked into it and seems to be watching her. The rest of the recordings, I can’t find. But I’ll keep tracing it, and I should warn you about one thing.”
“What?”
“It might be related to her prank caller and stalker.”
Killian leaned back on his chair, eyeing Jack thoughtfully. “And you’re telling me this because you think it’s related to the murders?”
“I have a hunch, but you know we don’t work on hunches. So I’m going to keep investigating, and I’m going to hack into the radio system, too. I already called the station owner, and they agreed. I need to question the people who might know Kit’s schedule and activities, and those with particular motives.”
“We don’t have a warrant.”
“Then I’ll be the sneakiest bastard there is,” Jack said firmly, daring the other to contradict.
To his surprise, Killian didn’t. He merely kept studying Jack before finally nodding his head.
“I suppose you’re not going to change your mind about this.”
“No,” was Jack’s easy response.
“Alright, then. So long as I’m updated frequently.”
“Obviously.”
Not about to take a second longer in the man’s stuffy, temporary office, Jack bid him goodbye and walked out the door, then returned to the central area of the police station. He found Kit still in Lemuel’s office, surprisingly calm as she nodded at something the older man said. But there was no hiding the spark of relief when he knocked, indicating with a hand that they were free to go. Lemuel nodded in greeting, not saying a word as they left.
Outside, Jack paused and faced Kit. Before she could say a word, he was pulling her in a hug and just prolonging the contact: a reminder that she was safe, and nothing had been done beyond the breach of privacy. Seconds later, she sagged in his arms, the relief more palpable now as she clung to him.
“I’ve made sure the video has been kept and no one else can see it. Not even the hacker. I do need it for evidence, just in case.”
“I understand.” Sighing, Kit removed herself from the embrace. With quiet resolve, she straightened her shoulders. “And I’m willing to cooperate. I know you talked to Killian and came up with conclusions, so hit me with them.”
He did. She listened, then brightened with determination when he mentioned the questioning.
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” Jack shrugged. “We might as well start. It’s not going to be formal, of course.”
“Right. I’m good at random and informal. So who are we going to visit first?”
There was no missing the surprise on her face at his reply.
“Your ex is our first stop.”
Chapter 23
Kit was normally good with silence, filling it with random conversation until she and her companion were distracted enough. It helped alleviate nerves, awkwardness, and everything in between, and it was her weapon to try not to be more awkward than she already was.
For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to find a topic to say now as they drove back towards her home, which she hadn’t seen in the week she’d stayed at Jack’s place. Oddly enough, she didn’t miss it, having realized in that same week that her home was where her equipment was.
Scarily enough, she was starting to believe that her home was also where Jack was.
The wayward thoughts didn’t distract her from her destination, and she began to brace herself as Jack parked the car outside her garage. They got out, facing each other, and he studied her.
“Do you want to get inside your garage, check if you need anything to bring back home before we start the questioning?”
Somehow, she knew he was giving her time to adjust. Kit nodded her head, ready to take that leeway. It warmed her heart, and it eased some of the worries off as she smiled at him.
“I could use my mechanical tools right now. Maybe I can upgrade your car during my spare time.”
Jack raised a brow, pointedly glancing at the car. It was a new one, the old one still in his garage and hiding until it could be sold. The safer, the better, he’d said.
“You could try,” was all he commented, humor in his tone. That humor masked the determination, and she told herself to hurry up because he was obviously revved for questioning.
With a few clicks of a lock—which Jack had also installed after taking her stuff out—Kit slipped inside, expecting to find things either organized to perfection or left in their ransacked mess.
The sight that greeted her had her stilling—then, lurching back, the calm in her stomach turning to a sickness that was leaping in waves. She bumped into a hard wall, panicked when she concluded she was trapped and had nowhere to run. Kit turned around, blindly smacking hands into that wall—
Hands wrapped around her fists, then yanked her further towards the wall. She realized it was actually a chest, and Jack had his arms around her, shielding her from view.
But it was too late.
She’d already seen Dean dead on her garage floor.
* * *
The rest of the night was a blur of cops putting up yellow tape, cops questioning her, then Killian questioning her, though Jack helped out in that last part as he answered the man’s questions himself. Jack disappeared for a while to study and record the crime scene, as was his job, while she stayed at the side and waited for his return. While waiting, the image remained in her mind: Dean spread-eagle and nailed down to the floor, a dagger sticking out of his chest. Barely a drop of blood, it hadn’t drained.
Eyes gouged out and tongue missing.
It was like a horror movie replaying itself over and over, but it was very real, too. Dennis came and screamed obscenities in the air, particularly when he was questioned over it as well. He made the image fade away when he threatened to sue everyone who so much as suspected him, and it was so oddly funny that she was filled with the urge to laugh.
Instead, Kit clamped her mouth shut and hugged herself, torn between that chuckling urge and the need to sob the ache out from her heart.
When Jack returned with a steady hand on her back, she straightened, refusing to slump. She looked him in the eye, too, wanting him to understand that she wasn’t going to break down here.
“Did you get all you needed?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you still need to go to the station? I can come with you.”
His hand tightened around her. “No. We’re heading home. My work here is done.”
Out of instinct, she turned to glance at the garage again but found it crowded with professionals. Kit went in the car, loving the feel of the plush new seats but also missing the comfort of the old ones. She wanted to curl in on herself but managed to sit straight as he drove.
After a while, she tensed, realizing he was driving in circles—realizing it was for precaution. She looked around, quietly eyeing the streets but finding nothing. She sensed nothing, too. Obviously, Jack felt the same as he rounded the corner and finally made it to his garage before they stepped in through the secret pocket entrance again.
Inside his apartment, Kit wandered to the living room, then to the barred windows, looking down. She could see the lights reflecting the Queens skyline and wondered one thing.
Why Dean? Why people connected to her all of a sudden?
Was it because she'd unknowingly reported the first one? Caught the second? Was she going to be the next target?
Hands settled on her shoulders, massaging. A soft kiss was placed at the nape of her neck, right before Jack’s arms wrapped around her waist and rested below her chest. In the reflection of the glass, she could see him looking at the skyline, too, though she was well aware he was still in tune with her emotions.
Still trying to keep herself together, she leaned against him.
“I never thought you could be like this,” she admitted.
“Like what?”
“This person you are with me.”
“You mean a turtle?”
The reference made her smile a bit. “I already knew you were a softie long before we got involved.” Kit turned around, facing him. “I meant this. I’m afraid, Jack.”
“Don’t be,” he growled, cupping her face. Those blue eyes lit with fire, a steady determination that pulled at her insides and made her feel so much. That scared her, too. “I’m not going to leave this alone, and I’m going to protect you. You’re safe with me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she admitted, unable to help it. “That you’ll keep protecting me, and I’ll depend on it too much. I’ll depend on you too much.”
The answer baffled him and he gave her a frown. In the silence, she knew he was trying to figure her out. Not ready for it, Kit pushed her height forward and tugged, waiting for him to meet her mouth. The kiss jumped at them like a spring coiled in tension, unfurling now and taking them by the reins of its hunger. She glided her tongue in, wanting the taste of that hunger—wanting everything it was presenting to her right now.
But Jack was resisting, hands bracing against the glass window behind her. He rested his mouth on her cheek, lips shaky.
“Are you sure?” he asked in a tense voice. “You’ve been through hell. After seeing that…”
In response, Kit nodded and pulled him down. “Yes, I have, and so have you. I want this. I want us to forget, even if just for a little while.”
She practically pleaded and she realized one thing: that Jack, despite the hardness he presented, would always listen to her voice. His resolve crumbled as he pressed against her, then pulled her away from the window and muttered a broken not here. He took her to his bedroom this time—then, to the bathroom, where he removed their clothes. She turned on the shower as he kicked the clothes out, snatching the soap before he could. Slowly, Kit ran the suds over his body, watching as the fire in his eyes turned blurry with a blind desire.
That desire fed hers, and she licked it. She knelt and licked him, stomach fluttering at the way he pressed his head against the tile wall and just let her. His hard cock thickened at the first contact of her tongue, and he bit back a groan when she slid that cock in her mouth. Eventually, his hands wrapped around her hair, utterly still at first before he began to direct her movements.
Addiction had nothing on this, and she reveled in the way she made him like this: perfect, proper Jack, losing every bit of control as he surrendered himself to her. She stroked, cupped, and licked him, feeling him thickening some more.
Before he could explode into release, the hands directing her insistently tugged her up, and her protest was cut off by a hard, searing kiss that made her knees weak. She wobbled, but he held steady, maneuvering them until she was facing the tile wall he'd been leaning on earlier. She braced herself, glancing back in anticipation when she felt the tip of his pulsing cock against her ass. He didn’t need to ask as she spread her legs for him, biting her lip when he thrust in one firm movement.
Nothing prepared her for the feeling of having him inside her from behind, where he seemed to go in deeper. Before she could fully absorb him, he was already moving, setting a pace that was achingly slow and seemed only to heighten the sensation. She pressed against the tiles before arching against him, craving the intimacy. Hands soaped over her breasts, teasing her nipples until she was a mass of vibrating tension from the buildup of pleasure. It built up continuously at his every thrust, growing to new heights when he lifted her hips higher to angle deeper. The tip of him hit her pleasure point, right before his thumb found it, too, and flicked.
It was all she needed as she rocketed hard for him, nearly falling with the intensity of it. But Jack was there to catch her as he kept rocking, wildly pressing her against the tiles and hissing with every breath.
Something sharp dug against her hip but didn’t penetrate. She tensed, understanding that he needed to make a mark there if he truly wanted to mate. But he was already coming, the claws retreating without a single mark and human fingers returning to hold her. He slumped, the energy draining out of him after his climax as water sloshed over them both.
