Up in Smoke (Kisses and Crimes Book 2) Read online

  I could feel it. I could feel my sister’s words thawing the rest of my hardened heart. But like any desperate addict, the hard-nosed workaholic in me tried to stop the process from getting too far. I gave my sister one last rebuttal.

  I sighed.

  “But he’s reckless, Del. He’s always going off half-cocked. He’s irresponsible. He’s unreliable. And he’s never there when you really need him…”

  Delilah stared at me.

  “I understand your resistance, babes, but if that’s true, if he’s not the type of man to be around when you need him then… he wouldn’t be here right now.”

  She raised an eyebrow, and before I could respond, Del was already packing it in, polishing off what was left of her beer, and putting the empty bottle into the recesses of the recycling bin.

  She wiped her mouth.

  “I’m fucking beat, babes. Stay over. Tell Jackson he’s welcome, too. I’m going to check on Melanie before I go to bed.”

  I almost let her… and then I remembered where the little truant toddler was. I started talking fast.

  “No! I mean… no. Del, you’ve had a busy week. Darren is gone. You’re taking care of the household. Let Auntie Penny take care of the rest.”

  I was bullshitting, but she bought it. My sister hugged me before stumbling awkwardly away, one hand waving as she teetered her tipsy ass to bed.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I swallowed the sigh when I realized what was waiting for me.

  My baby, the most precious little thing in the world, and the grinning guy who had won over her little heart.

  I opened the kitchen door.

  And then I saw it.

  Something that made the rest of me melt—if Del’s last words hadn’t done it already. I could barely keep the emotion from streaming to my eyes.

  A knot formed in my throat.

  He was holding her—no, cradling her. My precious niece had fallen asleep, slumped over into Jackson’s hip. With the palm of his hand, he supported her, holding her gently in place, keeping her from falling as she rested her head against him.

  Her eyes shut, her big brown curls falling over her face, she had leaned into his body at a cozy angle.

  She looked tinier than ever, like a soft little angel next to the tall man made of stone, and I wondered how long she had been there, tucked into the crook of his arm.

  I stood there watching them, as Jackson watched TV, his blue eyes sleepily engrossed…

  Until finally those blue eyes met mine.

  I tried to hide the sudden guilt that was on my face.

  “Hi.”

  Jackson’s irises glowed. “Hi back.”

  “I saw that Melanie was asleep. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to waken her.”

  “I don’t think you would have. She’s out like a light. And while we’re talking sleep, I’m pretty sure I was just dreaming with my eyes open.”

  He looked down at Melanie.

  “Time for bed for both of us, I guess…”

  He moved her gently.

  I couldn’t stay on the sidelines anymore. I rushed in and did my best to help him pick up Melanie without waking her, our voices silent as we gently worked to place her in the cradle of his arms.

  I liked the feeling of putting her there.

  It was his touch.

  Though Jackson had hands that bore the scars of hard-earned living, his handling was the very opposite of rough. His calloused palms were delicate and deceptively soft as he slid her tiny limbs through his fingers, brushing me as he took her from my hands. The tiny hairs on his forearms brushed my hands as he bore the weight of my niece and nestled her into his body.

  I looked at her face… and almost envied the peace I saw residing there.

  I nodded in the direction of her room upstairs, giving Jackson the unspoken “sleepy-time” signal, and, together, the two of us, side-by-side, put my no-longer-talkative toddler niece to bed upstairs with little fanfare.

  We tucked her in with silence and sweet kisses.

  And as we left, I felt a longing in my bones that I couldn’t explain… and wouldn’t, if anyone asked me to.

  I squelched the subtle desire and looked into Jackson’s face, expecting to find exhaustion. But there was nothing tired about the look in his eyes.

  In fact… they could only be described as starving. And I could do nothing but stand completely still as he took what he had been ravenous for…

  A kiss, sensual and slow… right in Melanie’s doorway.

  I covered his mouth with mine just to keep my own from moaning. I whimpered.

  Jackson grazed my bottom lip with his teeth. He pulled back slowly once he started. His sky-blue eyes searched mine for understanding.

  He grabbed me.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night, Pea. I’ve been fighting to keep my hands off you since I saw you in the office with What’s-His-Face,” he rumbled. His words were a whisper across my lips.

  He lightly bit mine, pulling them between his tightened teeth.

  His voice was a growl.

  “Fifteen years of waiting… and now I don’t think I can do it anymore. There’s so much we need to say, so much we have to talk about, but… I don’t think I have it in me to stall one more fucking second. I have to touch you, Pea. I don’t know what the fuck will happen if I don’t…”

  He met my gaze, his fingertips dug into my upper shoulders, and I recognized what was happening immediately.

  It was a question. I was stunned.

  Jackson Reed had never asked for anything.

  A country boy raised in the South and hardened by the military, he hard-knuckled his way from university dorms to Army barracks to the highest intelligence agency in the U.S.

  He hustled. He bartered. Whatever else he couldn’t trudge through fell into his lap… women, most of all. But here?

  Right now?

  He was changing all of the rules.

  His stare held a silent plea, and in those fiery icicles he called eyes, there was definitely a request there, looming right in front of my face.

  He wanted permission.

  What he didn’t realize was that he didn’t need it. He never needed it.

  I was his right from the start.

  I said nothing, returning his glare… and it was all the answer Jackson needed. He brought me back into his arms, right where I wanted to be.

  I nearly sank at the knees as he reconnected our mouths together again, and we kept kissing, taking each other in, sucking and licking and nipping as our hands roamed each other’s bodies—tickling and touching.

  Then grabbing and groping and grinding until the space between us ceased to exist.

  Jackson was holding me as hard as I was holding him.

  Fuck.

  Fuckfuck…fuckfuckfuckFUCK.

  Was this really happening? Were kisses supposed to feel like this?

  Were they supposed to slam you between the thighs, making everything quiver? Were they supposed to resonate from the tips of your toes to the edges of your trembling fingers?

  With Jackson, mine sure as hell did.

  There was something about him. An inherent hunger in his eyes that made you want to be possessed. He looked at me as if his very survival depended on him devouring me.

  And when he did, I wanted him to consume me in every way. In every way.

  He had once consumed me. Long ago.

  And I couldn’t lie: every part of me right then was dying to be devoured again.

  My arms wrapped around his body as his hands wandered down my back and to my ass where he took two handfuls and lightly squeezed.

  I gasped as his hands gripped even lower.

  Jackson ran two fingers along the underside of my underwear and he let them rest there, tapping lightly as his thumb ran the line of my slit.

  I groaned into the grooves between his lips.

  “There’s my girl,” he breathed on a quiet laugh. “I was beginning to t
hink I lost my touch. I was hoping I didn’t forget the buttons.”

  His thumb pressed harder, and I whined.

  “Oh, yes. I haven’t lost it… You’re still my favorite toy, Pea. You’re still the plaything I love to toy with the most.”

  His hands never stopped roaming, but his lips lost their way.

  They deviated from my mouth and traveled down to my cleavage. Over the fabric of my button-down shirt, Jackson slipped the tip of one of my breasts into his mouth, sucking hard over linen and lace, lapping his tongue at my hardened nipple to drive me fucking insane.

  And with my shirt and bra as a barrier, I quivered, thinking about what he could do next without them.

  I didn’t have to think long.

  He removed my shirt, slipping it over my head and tossing it aside. I pressed my body backwards into the door’s frame, struggling for air.

  “Wait…” I exhaled. “Jax… Jackson, not here. We’re going to wake the baby,” I whispered.

  He simply grinned.

  The man was turning me into mush and he all he could was grin. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if he knew he had me… right where he wanted me, right when he wanted me.

  And he was right.

  He kissed my jaw and held my eyes with his icy irises. He snorted softly, tracing a finger along my hairline, and I sighed.

  “You’re right, Pea,” he said. “And with the things I want to do to you… I’m afraid we will wake up the entire state.”

  He grabbed for my shirt on the floor.

  “Come on.” And then he tugged me outside, stepping into the hallway with my hand in his, as he closed the heavy door behind us.

  He managed it without even a click.

  He headed towards the stairs, descending them slowly one step at a time.

  He pulled me in close, escorting me down, and before I knew it, we were back in the living room and he was laying me down, caressing my body as he positioned my back flat on the cushiony sofa.

  He hovered above me. And I almost came when he went for my mouth and sucked my tongue between his lips.

  He pulled back and smiled at me.

  “Wait,” I called out softly. “We can’t… This is…” I scrambled for words. “So wrong…”

  He shook his head.

  “No, Pea. This is right.” He looked down at me, at my body. “Nothing has ever been so right.”

  And then his body moved lower, down to the edge of the sofa. Before I knew it, his shoulders were trapped under my knees, and the edge of my pencil skirt was at the tip of his nose.

  Jackson played with the hem before slipping beneath.

  And I did everything I could to stop him.

  I slapped softly at his face, pushing. I stuck my hands out on every piece of him I could find with my fingers, trying to thwart his advances.

  But he kept coming.

  His head slipped further and further between my thighs, and when he reached the meeting of them, I felt his lips… and all attempts to impede him were completely abandoned.

  I gave into sensation and rode the wave that was sitting on the tip of his tongue.

  He couldn’t be stopped.

  With a kiss to my clit and a slow circling of the nub at the edge of my slit, Jackson let his lips serenade me.

  It was artistry—pure and feral and overwhelming, and I imagined myself as the masterpiece being painted by his talented tongue.

  He skimmed the lips below my waist with the edge of his teeth and tickled the folds with his mouth, French-kissing them.

  He slid a finger down the length of my pussy and entered a finger into me as he swirled the trail of his tongue into a figure eight, spiraling through my wetness like the swirls of an infinity symbol that had no end.

  He was relentless.

  Nicking and needling, probing and pumping until I was squirming beneath his fingers and mouth, squeezing him between my thighs as I struggled to hold onto any semblance of sanity.

  And through it all, I failed.

  Jackson licked me like a melting ice cream cone… and I lost myself to ecstasy, panting in quick spurts until my body trembled from the tip of my head down to my salon-painted toes.

  I put the heel of my hand between my teeth and stemmed the start of a scream that threatened to rock all the way through me.

  I arched my back and fell back onto the cushions with a sigh. I moaned softly, mewling with satisfaction in a voice that I didn’t even recognize.

  Jackson let me go. Finally.

  He re-emerged.

  “You are the gift that keeps on giving…” He kissed my inner thigh. “Now, sneak upstairs and get to bed. I don’t want Delilah to wake up and find me on top of you.”

  CRASH AND BURN

  JACKSON

  She was still asleep.

  That much I was sure of.

  My night was long—restless, and in the middle of insomniac Hell, I replayed the piece of Heaven I’d just had hours earlier as I laid on Delilah’s couch.

  Thinking of Penelope. Contemplating. Remembering. Reminiscing…

  Mentally touching the throbbing places I’d just placed my hands all over.

  And shit, maybe my subconscious was right; maybe it was a ploy.

  A way to trick my mind into believing that I wasn’t doing what I was really doing. A way to stave off the anger, the frustration, the resentment, the regret…

  Because I knew I’d never see her again.

  It was over.

  Daybreak fucking smacked me like a ton of bricks that morning and as the sun barely broke over the horizon, I was already back in my car, warming the seats… willing myself to turn the ignition and drive away.

  Delilah understood and had already given her blessing.

  Frantic, beside herself with worry, I knew Penelope’s sister was taking the news of Pea and my danger as calmly as she possibly could.

  She’d been animated even when we were young—emotional. Though she was only two years older than Pea, she retained a possessiveness that was ahead of its time, a maternal-like love for her younger sister that was far beyond her years.

  Delilah had never been just a sibling. She had somehow always been a mother.

  And now that she mothered her own baby and increased her children to two, she was more than happy to agree to my terms.

  I knew she would do whatever was necessary to keep Pea safe. She’d make sure her sister got back home. Back to Paris. Back to a place where the Senator likely couldn’t touch her.

  It was the only thing I ever truly wanted—to keep her safe. I wanted it more than the success of my business. I wanted it more than all the money in the fucking world.

  It just took me forever to realize it.

  And though I was doing everything I could to ensure her safety, though I’d done what I knew was the right thing, I just couldn’t make myself take off.

  I couldn’t make myself abandon her…

  Although, I knew it was the right thing to do.

  I stalled, considering lighting a lone cigarette amidst the tanned leather interior of my car… and I didn’t even smoke.

  I beat the steering wheel with my hands, and I picked up my phone.

  I had to check with Mable.

  I counted three times in that minute that I prayed she wouldn’t answer. She picked up her phone after the fourth ring.

  “Maybelline Gellar,” she huffed.

  “Now, is that any way to answer your phone, Mable?”

  “You bet your ass, it is. When it’s the big, burly, Paul Bunyan-sized ass crack of dawn, it is. Whaddya want this time of morning anyway, Jax?”

  The older woman was probably still asleep. Hell, it was Saturday morning, and I’d normally be asleep myself.

  But this wasn’t your typical Saturday morning.

  Not when you had to say your final goodbyes to the only woman you’ve ever loved.

  If sneaking out at the crack of dawn could even be considered a “final goodbye.”

 
; I made the sexiest woman I’ve ever known come on the tip of my tongue… and within mere hours, managed to leave that same woman with fuck-all.

  But I didn’t have a choice.

  I cleared my throat.

  “C’mon, Mable. You know I wouldn’t do this to you unless it was important.” I held the phone closer. “And this is important.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “Talk before the sleep catches back up with me.”

  I exhaled. “Did you check the plane ticket for tonight?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And it’s Air France flight twelve-forty-one.”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s first class?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure it’s leaving tonight?”

  “Yes, Jax,” she blew out. “For the thousandth time, yes. It’s all covered.” She paused as if reading the details. “One Penelope Castalano smoking on the first thing to France, tonight, on this eleventh of November.” She dropped what sounded like a notepad on the other line. “You ok now? You happy?”

  I tried to grin, but it broke. “Ecstatic.”

  “Now, cheer up. You got a phone call at the office desk today. Sounded like a new client. She was smooth, babay,” her New Orleans accent slipping out. “A real classy broad. And you know what that means? Classy. Broad. Money.” She tittered. “This business of ours will be back on its feet in no time at all.”

  She wanted me to join in on her laughter, I could tell, but the chuckles had turned sour in my throat. And though normally thinking of Mable’s wide smile brought a sly one to mine, this wasn’t one of those times.

  This client sounded too good to be true, and if it was who I thought it was, then I was definitely right.

  This mystery woman had sent me on a wild goose chase.

  She purposely sent me searching for a file that she knew didn’t exist. A file that had nearly gotten me and Penelope killed… which is what I was beginning to suspect was exactly what she wanted in the first place.

  I was getting the fuck out of this twisted little game.

  I squeezed my phone with shaking fingers. I held back an unintended bark, lowering my voice.

  “Listen to me, Mabe. The next time that woman calls, I want you to tell her that we’re out of business. Tell her that she can take her down payment and shove it up her fucking ass. You can say it just like that.”