Not as much as he thought he did.
I was surprised by that. I could hold a grudge far longer than just about anyone I knew. I had been really angry with Jack, but maybe the time I'd spent under Atkins' evil hands had given me some perspective.
Jack wasn't a bad guy. Compared to Atkins, he was damn near heroic. I knew my anger at him came from a place of hurt, from being rejected. Not from what kind of man Jack was. And while I certainly felt as if I had a right to be angry with Jack, maybe it was time to let it go.
"Make love to me?" I whispered.
Jack sucked in a breath, but his eyes began to sparkle with desire. "You're hurt. Can you…"
"I'm good." I was pretty sure I'd be even better if Jack made love to me. I needed to feel alive again, to feel free. I needed to feel something other than terror.
"Are you sure?"
"Please." I doubted there was another person on the planet I'd beg.
I'd beg Jack.
"I need to feel you."
Jack swooped in and kissed me from one breath to the next. His lips were hard and searching on mine. His hands were rough as they roamed over my skin at an alarming rate, almost as if he had to touch every part of me right that second.
I grabbed a handful of his hair, which wasn't easy. He kept it pretty short. I knew he needed to due to his work as a Marine, but there were times like this that I wished it was just a bit longer. I wanted to hold him to me.
Jack's hand slid down my side before moving under the waistband of my pajama pants. "These need to go."
No problem.
I let go of Jack just long enough to push the pajama pants off and kick them aside then I sat up and quickly pulled my shirt off, tossing it in the direction my pants had gone. I lay back on the pillows and smiled up at Jack.
"Your turn."
Jack chuckled as he scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. My breath caught as I watched him strip his clothes off. Jack McDermott was very well put together. Miles and miles of golden tanned skin covering mouthwatering muscles.
"I like your tats."
"Yeah?" Jack smiled as he glanced down at the tattoo on his arm then farther on down to the one on his side.
I pointed to that one. "I'll bet that hurt." It was a colorful snake wrapped around an equally colorful tiger.
"Yeah, it hurt a little, but I really wanted it, so…"
"Why?"
"It's a reminder that strength and beauty go hand in hand, but both are lethal in their own way."
"There's a story there."
Jack chuckled. "On one of my missions a few years ago, I met this guy."
My eyes narrowed.
"No, not that type of guy. He was an aid worker in the Sudan. He couldn't have been any bigger than Danny, and yet I saw him take on five rebel soldiers all by himself to protect a truck full of children. I'd always thought that only men built like me could be powerful, and in the span of two minutes, he showed me that anyone can be lethal if given enough incentive."
Okay, I could see that, but still… "Then why the tattoo?"
Sadness and regret darkened Jack's eyes. "There was a sixth guy that neither of us saw until it was too late. He shot Finch before I could stop him. Finch didn't make it. He died in my arms, but not before gaining my promise to see the kids to safety."
"Did you?"
