Savor the Danger
Page 50

 Lori Foster

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Laughing, he bent to lightly bite her waist and then pushed the quilt completely off her.
Being suddenly exposed curled her toes, especially with the appreciative way he sat up to study her body.
“I learned early that great sex makes everything easier. And just so we can wrap this up, let me tell you the condensed version of the rest.” He wedged a hand between her legs, cupping his palm over her sex. His fingers were still, firm against her, and it left her breathless.
Jackson stared into her eyes as he finished the telling. “I blew off the idea of college. The school atmosphere isn’t for me and I wanted to get on with my life. So I got a job working for a concrete company.”
Alani wanted to ask him about that, but coherent questions weren’t easy, not with his hand there, possessive, just holding her.
“I did the heavier labor, and loved it. I really got into feeling stronger, more fit.”
“A man, instead of a kid.”
“Yeah. I enjoyed the physical stuff enough that I took some training, to get stronger, faster, to fight better—not that I wanted to fight professionally or anything. I just enjoyed it. And I have a knack for it, too.” He grinned at her. “I’m a natural.”
That intrigued her enough that she managed to ask, “But that’s not what you wanted to do?”
He shook his head. “I always figured one day I’d open up my own construction company.”
She believed he would have, if that’s what he wanted. Jackson was a man who would make things happen.
“Instead I got in with Trace and Dare.”
“How—”
Watching her, he shifted his hand, and his middle finger searched, prodded, sank into her.
Her whole body stiffened; she felt herself getting wetter and didn’t know if she should be embarrassed or not. She caught his wrist; their gazes clashed. “How did you meet them?”
Again his eyes narrowed, this time with satisfaction. “It was a dark night. Raining like crazy. My truck broke down, so I had to walk the last few miles to a gas station.”
Alani watched him look off at nothing in particular, as if remembering something unpleasant. She was acutely aware of many things: his awesomely nude, buff body; the tension in the air and in his shoulders; the feel of his finger pressed inside her, motionless, big, intimate.
Her lungs labored for breath, and she had to struggle to concentrate instead of sinking under the spell of sensuality. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop her muscles from tightening around his finger.
Jackson, damn him, seemed unaffected.
“On my way back to my truck, I had to cross over a bridge, and there were three guys there, trying to throw something over.”
Oh, God. Instinctively, Alani knew what that something was. “A woman?” she whispered.
“An eighteen-year-old girl, though I didn’t realize it at the time. I just knew something was wrong, and I reacted.”
As Dare and Trace always did. “What happened?”
“They didn’t notice me when I crept up on them. Their car was idling, making some noise, and it was storming hard. When they tossed their bundle, I heard a scream, and then… I knew.” A deep breath expanded his chest, tightened his jaw. “I think I snapped, but in a cold way. Not panicked. I’d fought before, plenty of times. But never like that. Never with a life in the balance.”
“You knew you had to take them down so you could get to her.”
“That’s about it. So I leveled them.”
“All three of them?” She pictured it in her mind.
“No choice. I didn’t exactly fight fair. I figured if they died, who gave a shit? In less than… I dunno, a minute maybe, two of them were out and the third was disabled. So I dove in after the girl.”
Awe, respect, affection and…gratitude all swamped Alani, making her voice rough. “In a storm, off a bridge?”
“Yeah, hell of a thing, huh? They had tied her hands, so the odds of her surviving were zilch if I didn’t get to her, and quick. Luckily, she was kicking like crazy, just managing to keep her head above water, and I could hear her splashing. I got her, and she fought me like a wildcat.” He smiled, gave a short, soft laugh. “I got more bruises from her than I did from the bozos on the bridge.”
Horrified, Alani covered her mouth. “She must have been so panicked.”
“You know, she was, but not like you’d expect. She wasn’t hysterical, wasn’t crying. Even with her hands tied at her wrists, she fought. After I dragged her up to the shore, I had a bitch of a time pinning her legs so I could explain that I wanted to help. And even then, she didn’t quite believe me. I got out my knife, cut her hands free and then jumped back from her so she wouldn’t feel cornered. We sort of stared at each other for the longest time.”
“How badly was she hurt?”
“Banged up.” He opened his mouth to say more, then shook his head hard and pressed his finger deeper into her. “Dare and Trace were on the scene. It was this big cluster-fuck, with me not knowing who to trust, and her scared stiff, and them both calm and, I don’t know, just to the point, maybe. They took over, said they’d get rid of the men and the car.”
If Alani were a different person, if she hadn’t experienced her own trauma, she might not have understood. “So you had killed them?”
“I never asked. They were part of a ring that dabbled in human trafficking. They sold girls, sometimes exchanged them for drugs or weapons, and if anyone dared try to escape…”