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JACK: Las Vegas Bad Boys(51)

By:Frankie Love


“Okay, I believe you. I believe that you think this is true.”

“Don’t be condescending.” I push him away. “Call McQueen. Tell him and his dad to come down to the hospital. I’ll have him do a paternity test.”

“That’s nuts, babe,” he says gently. But his words, though soft, still sting. “I know you’re broken up about not having a family ... but I don’t know if this is the way to find one.”

“Fuck that, Jack.” I push him away out of self-preservation, but also because I know in my heart I’m right. “Don’t be like that. You say you love me? Then trust me.”

The steady hum of the machines in the room echoes through our silence. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to hear Jack say, Yes, I believe you.

He runs a hand through his hair, watching me, deciding what to do.

I know whatever has transpired between Jack and me this month has been nothing short of insane. When we sat on the water at his parent’s home, I offered him the deepest, scariest, most shameful parts of myself. I told him all of my secrets. I gave them to him believing he would handle them with care.

And he did. Which is why I trust him so damn much.

But maybe that trust is just one-sided.





Chapter Twenty-One





JACK


Looking at her, propped up in this hospital bed, my emotions are running on all cylinders.

The bikers are here, in town ... and the longer I can keep her in this room, the safer my girl will be.

But I can’t tell her that her father is closing in on her. I don’t want her to experience any more stress than she’s already under. And, dammit, she’s been on a roller coaster without a safety belt. I need things to slow down for her, yet this new revelation—or whatever the fuck—is just going to skyrocket her anxiety.

But Tess isn’t a liar. She is the antithesis of dramatics. She’s no Ashley; she’s not an attention-whore. She isn’t going to say something as sensational as this story would be, unless she can fucking back it up.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath., determined that each word I utter hereafter will not, not even for a moment, give her a reason to doubt me.

I won’t give her room to doubt my love, my intentions. I’m a fucking man of my word and when I told her I’d protect her, I didn’t just mean her physical body—though I damn well intend on that. I also meant that I would protect her heart. That I would protect her goddamned soul.

I kneel before her on the hospital floor, my hands wrapped around hers. I won’t fucking let go.

“Tess, or Rachel, or whoever the hell you are, I love you. I believe you and I believe in you and I will fucking fight with you until we find the truth.”

Her lips quiver, tears splash across her delicate cheeks. I hate that she carries so much pain, so much loss. But I want to be by her side as she finds the pieces that have been stolen from her.

“Marry me,” I tell her. “Be my wife and have my children and fucking let me keep you safe.”

I hadn’t planned on a proposal—but, as God is my witness, it’s the only thing that makes fucking sense in this whole mess. The only thing that makes sense in my entire life.

“I don’t deserve you,” she sobs, her shoulders shaking as she absorbs my words. “I’ve made a mess of my life and I don’t even know how to clean it up. You want me?” she asks, disbelief written in her eyes. “You really want a girl like me?”

“Oh, baby, you are the only girl I want.”

I climb on top of her, in that narrow hospital bed. I straddle her body, run my hands across her waist, over her perfect tits, until I’m holding her face in my hands.

“You are the only girl I need.”

She kisses me, so desperately, so hungrily. I know she needs me, too.

“Is that a motherfucking yes?” I ask her.

“Yes.” She kisses me again, harder, pressing her body against mine as if she wants me to devour her completely. “Yes, Jack Harris, I will marry you.”

“Are we gonna consummate this marriage?” I smirk, lifting the hem of her tee shirt.

“I think people do that after the actual wedding, not the proposal.” She tugs at my belt, loosening it, then unbuttoning my pants.

“I think consummating proposals is a thing too,” I tell her, pushing both her pants and her panties down.

Oh, that sweet pussy is just begging to be fucked.

She looks over my shoulder and I know she’s considering the fact that someone could walk in.

But she wants me, needs me as badly as I need her.

I pull out my thick cock, knowing I’ll never tire of the way her clear blue eyes widen incredulously when she sees my package.