Sweet Recovery (Ex Ops Series Book 4) (20 page)

She eyed the brown liquid in distaste then asked, “I don’t like whiskey. You won’t go buy me some vodka, instead?”

I flat out laughed at her. It was a good ploy, but I could see right through her shit. “Not a chance in hell, angel. You don’t want the vodka; you just want a chance to escape this room. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna give it to you.”

Her eyes narrowed in anger, and I was more than a little surprised when she picked up the bottle of whiskey, took off the cap, and started chugging it. I guessed it was her silent way of telling me “fuck you.”

Jesus. Was this what we had been reduced to? Pain, anger, and the need for liquor? I had to get us past this.

Since she wasn’t exactly even trying to work with me here, I tried another angle. Maybe if I apologized one more time …

“I know how badly I hurt you, how deep that cut is.”

“How badly you cut me?” Ginny gave a humorless laugh. “You didn’t cut me, Lucas. You broke my heart, and I still loved you with every broken piece. My father was the one who fucking annihilated me. There’s nothing left of the girl you once knew, and the woman I am now no longer wants or needs you. That’s why you should leave. You can’t save a person who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Gin could sit there and tell me she wanted to leave, but in her impassioned little speech, she had told me the one thing I needed to know so I wouldn’t go. She had said she loved me. She had too much fear for what might happen to me. That was all the hope I needed. I could see the light at the end of this shitty ass tunnel we were in, and now I just had to prove to her that I could take care of us both.

Part of being in love was to be the strong one when your partner was weak. I needed to prove to her that I wasn’t weak. I was strong enough for both of us. I could save her, her mother, and keep my family out of the dangerous sights of her father. I just needed her to believe in me.

“So you like living this half-life you’ve got going on? You’re okay with being a hollow shell of who you used to be?”

“A person has to accept their destiny. Mine has led me here, somewhere you don’t belong. As for your accusation of being a hollow shell, you’re wrong again. Saying I’m hollow implies you think whatever is missing inside of me can be filled. It can’t, and that’s just the way I want it. After all, wanting to be emotionally fulfilled with life implies believing in silly things like feelings: affection, love, things I no longer believe in. And saying that I’m a shell implies you think this shell can be replaced with the one you used to know. Again, you would be wrong. What you see here”—she waved her hand up and down in front of herself—“is not a shell. It’s me! I cannot be replaced or fixed. Consider me used goods. No refunds. No exchanges.”

I closed the distance between us. “That’s where you’re wrong, angel … except for one thing. You’re right. You’re not a shell; you’re a veneer, a crappy overlay to cover up something beautiful that I carelessly broke years ago. You’re not annihilated, because I can see the sharp, jagged pieces of you just waiting to be put back together. And I’m your fucking glue. I’ll put you back together so I can fill you up.”

She snorted. “What are you going to fill me up with, Lucas? Are you going to give me some greeting card answer like ‘my love’?”

I leaned toward her, making sure she could see the steely determination I knew was there in my eyes. “Yeah, baby, I’m going to fill you up with my love, but I’m also going to fill you up with something else: my heart, my body, my soul. While I’m filling you with that, I’m also going to show you something.”

“What’s that?” she sneered.

“I’m going to show you that you and I belong together. I’m yours, baby, and you’re mine, and nothing and no one is ever going to change that. I know that’s going to take a while to prove, so I’m going to take it step by step. First, I’m going to prove that your body was made for me and me alone. It was meant for me to love, pleasure, and protect.”

A cold look came over her face as she took another swig from the bottle. “That’s where you’re wrong. Remember, my body doesn’t just belong to you anymore. It belongs to Jay now. It was sold to him so I could keep your family alive. Guess that puts a stop to the plan you had for me.”

Was she trying to say that she was whoring herself out to keep me and my family safe? Because that shit did not fly with me. My girl was no whore, and I was capable enough of keeping my family, my woman, and myself safe. I didn’t need her sacrificing herself to do it for me.

Jesus, but the thought that she had been so willing to offer herself up like some kind of sacrifice because she thought she was protecting me and our families was enough to shred me from the inside out.

Not to mention, hearing her imply that Sanjay Kahn had touched my angel brought my blood to a boil. The mental image of his hands on her body, his mouth kissing the skin I had tasted first while he was inside her, made me want to snap his neck. Hopefully, the prick was already dead.

I couldn’t focus on that right now, though. I had something to prove to my woman. I had to prove I was the one for her. She wasn’t listening, so maybe I had to resort to other, more primitive methods to get her to see the truth. Her mind could reject me, but her heart and body never would.

Lunging for her, I grabbed her around the waist; picked her up out of her chair, causing her to drop the bottle to the floor; and then laid her back across the bed behind us as she shrieked in surprise. Then I pulled her ass down toward the edge and wedged my hips between her legs so she could feel the hard length of my dick as I bent over her, pinning her wrists to the mattress by her head.

Bringing my face down until we were nose to nose, I took a second to catalog everything about her that I could see and feel. The warm smell of whiskey hit my nose as her breath teased my lips because of her excited panting. The rise and fall of her chest due to her breathing pushed her breasts into my chest, and I could feel that her nipples were hard. Her pupils were big and vulnerable due to momentary shock. Blonde hair fanned out in a short disarray of messy waves around her head, and one thought stuck in my mind.

My naughty angel.

That was what she looked like in this moment.

She started to struggle as the shock wore off, wiggling and bucking against my much heavier body as she also tried to lift her wrists to remove my hands. Not happening. We were long overdue for this come-to-Jesus talk.

“Stay still, be quiet, and absorb what I’m about to say through that thick, stubborn head of yours,” I growled.

She stilled yet started to open her mouth to undoubtedly fire back with some smartass comment. Too bad I was not going to let her get it out.

Putting a finger over her mouth, I warned her, “I said shut it.”

Her teeth clicked as she snapped her mouth shut and glared at me.

“I want to get something straight right now, angel. I don’t want to hear about that fuckwad fiancé of yours. Not what you’ve done with him. Not that he’s touched so much as a hair on your head or held your hand. And I sure as shit don’t want to hear about you fucking him, even if it’s just to imply it. I don’t want to even hear his name out of those pretty lips of yours. As far as I’m concerned, when it comes to you, he does not exist. You’ve always been mine and always will be mine, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Tears were pouring down the side of her face, but she bared her teeth in an animalistic snarl. “Then stop talking and prove it.”

I wasn’t sure what she was expecting, maybe for me to slip her panties off and fuck her brains out, which I would surely do later, but without a doubt, she certainly wasn’t expecting what I did next.

Pulling my knees up, I braced my body weight so that I was straddling her waist. Then, reaching up with my left hand, I wrapped it around her neck to hold her in place. She went stock still in shock and didn’t even try to lift her now freed hand.

Moving slowly with my right hand, I let go of her other hand and reached behind her neck until I could feel the clasp of her necklace. A man’s big ass fingers were not meant to handle these delicate little clasps, so it took me a few tries before I was unable to unlock it. I spent the entire time making sure I had her pinned in place without actually putting any pressure on her neck to cut off her airway.

I didn’t miss the way her eyes dilated, though, as if the thought of me being a little rough with her might turn her on.

So, my naughty angel liked rough sex? I could take care of that … later. There was a time and place for that. Now wasn’t it.

Haltingly, I pulled the necklace off her neck by holding the locket until it was dangling in her very confused face.

As she stared at the glittering gold in front of her, I let go of her neck to dig into my pocket for what I needed.

I didn’t want to move too quickly and scare her or have her mistakenly think I might hit her. I also didn’t want to move too slowly, because eventually, the synapses in her brain would start firing again, and she would realize I was no longer pinning down her hands or neck. Therefore, I watched her face with an eagle’s eye, analyzing every little rapid breath she took, every little twitch of her eyes, as I pulled the key out of my pocket and brought it up to her locket.

Her confusion only grew when she saw the little golden key, but she didn’t move as she watched me insert it into the locket and turn it, causing an audible little
click
as it unlocked.

Time stood still. My breath froze in my chest as I opened the locket and turned it so she could see what had been hidden away inside from the very beginning.

Her eyes focused on the proof she had been carrying of my love for her all of these years, and she inhaled sharply as fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

As she looked back at me frantically, searching for answers, I gave her the only other words I had.

“G on the outside, and L on the inside. Our initials on the same heart, angel … because you’ve always carried mine with you wherever you go.”

Note From The Author

Thank you for reading
Sweet Recovery
! You’re the absolute best for giving little ol’ me a chance. For every Indie Author you read, somewhere out there a fairy gets its wings! Okay, maybe not, but it still seems pretty magical.

For those of you thinking, “WAIT! She didn’t resolve all of the issues!” You’re absolutely right – I didn’t. If you’ve read my books before, by now you should know that I usually don’t. Some issues will be solved in the next book,
Sweet Eternity
. This was merely the middle of Lucas and Ginny’s story.

I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailers, such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble, or review websites such as Goodreads. These are great ways to help spread the word about books to readers who have yet to discover them. There are excerpts from my friends’ books, so make sure you keep turning those pages! Happy reading!

About the Author

Jessie Lane is a best-selling author of Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, as well as, Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.

She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in-the-making and her over protective alpha husband that she’s pretty sure is a latent grizzly bear shifter. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.

She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writer’s of America (RWA).

For more information on Jessie Lane:

http://jessielanebooks.com/

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Guardian Angel

By

Abbie Zanders

Copyright ©2015 Abbie Zanders

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted