Jenna Kernan - Surrogate Escape

“Talk, huh?” She gave him a look that cut through the bull. He wanted many things, but talk wasn’t exactly one of them.

She changed the subject, dismissing him and the topic.

“Your captain said you were on patrol last night, that you covered the traffic fatality and who knows what else. So, bed. Now.”

He stroked a strand of her hair that had escaped the tight knot. Instead of drawing back, she let him cup her head in his hand. He met her gaze, letting her know what he intended and giving her time to step away.

It was a bad idea, but he was still going for it. No stopping himself, just like the last time they were alone. But he was older now. His control was better.

Liar. She still stripped away all control. There was no containing the fire that burned within him for this woman. His brain shrieked a warning as he pulled her in tight.

Her eyes widened as she sucked in air through flaring nostrils. The small gesture made his chest constrict. He flexed his arm, bringing her in closer. Her fingers slipped into the opening of his uniform at the collar, nails raking his chest. His blood surged and he took the kiss, his mouth hungry. Her arms threaded around his neck as he deepened the kiss, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She was like a drug for him. The habit he thought to break, and all the while it had lingered inside him, waiting for a chance to have her again. If she had learned anything, she should be running for the door because they were alone again, and there was a bed right beside them.

He turned her in his arms and brought her to the mattress. She stiffened and broke the kiss. He lifted to his elbows to give her a questioning look. She gaped at him and then shoved away, slipping from his grasp. He sat on the bed while she stood panting beside him. He’d dragged the forked comb from the tight bun and let her hair fall. Then he raked his fingers through the strands until her hair fell about her shoulders in soft waves.

“Jake, you can’t do that.”

But he just had. His mouth quirked.

“That so?”

“Yes, that is so, Jake Redhorse. You might be the golden boy to everyone else, but you and I know better. Don’t we?” She reclaimed her hair fastener.

That stung. He drummed his fingers on his thigh.

“I said I’d marry you, didn’t I?”

She gave a sharp, audible exhale and folded her arms over her chest. “My hero,” she said, her tone mocking. Then she spun on her heels and marched out of the room.

He had half a mind to follow her.

Jake flopped back onto the bed. And what was that “my hero” gibe about? She’d gone with him, let him do what he liked. They’d both been there, both been stupid kids. It wasn’t his fault. At least not all his fault. His mistake had been thinking he could control himself with Lori. He’d even had the damn condom in his pocket. But that wasn’t how a condom worked, was it?

He hadn’t used protection and she had never asked about it. Thinking a Mott girl would use protection was like expecting a cow to wear pajamas. That was what his brother Ty had said. Kee had said it was an unfortunate but predictable occurrence given family history. The whole thing still made him burn deep inside, shame and hurt and desire all firing at once. But he would admit that whatever appeal Lori had for him had only grown stronger with time.

What was it about Lori Mott that drew him like a lamb to slaughter?

“No,” he promised to the empty room and settled down in the bed alone. The pillow smelled like Lori. He breathed deep and then growled, rolling to his side, ignoring the stirring of his body for her.

Not again.

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