Page 93 of Jake's Angel

“Take a deep breath.” She does as I ask. “Now, let it out.” Again, she follows instructions.

So, she can listen.I keep those smartass thoughts to myself, now is not the time. “Just relax, Angel. Sleep. I’ve got you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

AVERY

I wakeup covered in his scent and his blanket. After telling Jake everything I could about the attack and what had happened last night, we sat quietly for a while, just listening to each other breathe. I must’ve fallen asleep in his lap. I should probably feel embarrassed, but I don’t. When Jake wrapped his arms around me, whispering I was safe and he had me, I was able to relax. His hold kept the nightmares at bay.

I wish he had me. Then I would belong somewhere.

I get up out of bed and make my way into the living room, where I find Jake sprawled out on the couch, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His muscles are on full display. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand just to be safe before moving closer to see what he’s doing.

He barely looks up from the drawing pad he’s heavily concentrating on. I make my way further into the room when he startles me.

“I made some coffee. It’s there in the kitchen if you want some. Sugar is on the counter, and that frilly creamer shit Jaydeand Skyler like is in the fridge.” I find myself a mug and pour myself a cup. I’m going to need it after last night.

“What time is it?” I ask coming to sit next to him on the couch. He moves his feet enough to make room but doesn’t take his eyes off what he’s doing.

“It’s a little after nine, I think.” He’s shading something, maybe. I lean over to try to get a glimpse, but he covers it with his hand. I laugh at his childishness.

“What are you working on, some sort of secret artwork?” I tease.

He smiles. God, his smile. He has this cockiness about him that drives me crazy. His rude comments get on my last nerve. His body makes me feel things in places I didn’t even know I could. But his smile, his sexy, confident smile, melts me. I don’t think any woman can resist his smile.What’s worse is he knows it.

“I have a client later tonight. I was working on the artwork for his thigh piece.” He shrugs.

“You’re a tattoo artist.” It’s not a question since Jesper told me as much when I got my belly button ring. Jake looks up and laughs at the scowl on my face. “You’re the club member who owns Kustom Armor.”

“Don’t look so surprised. Not all bikers are drug dealers and gun runners.” My mouth falls open at his comment.

“I never thought …” my voice squeaks, betraying me. He puts his hand up to stop me.

“Yes, you did. It’s alright. Expected even.” I narrow my eyes at him. He chuckles. “Contrary to what your TV shows may tell you, The Kings are a legitimate club. Several of us own respectable businesses. Others work reputable jobs. We all make a pretty good living,” he says as he continues to trace and shade his masterpiece. I’m craning my neck to see, but he’s not budging.

“So, do you do all the artwork, or does the younger guy at the front desk tattoo also?” He laughs at first, then narrows his eyes at me.

“How do you know Jesper?” I shrug my shoulders, quickly pulling my cup up to my mouth for another drink.

“Bullshit. I didn’t see any ink on your body. You’re definitely not his usual type.” He drops his pencil, leans back with his damn arms crossed, and waits. It’s like he only knows one pose and one tactic. Intimidation.

If it wasn’t such a sexy look on him, it might serve to get him what he wants, but I like the view too much to cave just yet.

I don’t answer him for a few minutes and wait him out. When I see my plan isn’t going to work, I change tactics. “Hmm, I couldn’t have been in there, or I would’ve seen you. Right?” I say it like I’ve just solved some big mystery that no one cares about and take another sip of coffee. He narrows his eyes even more.

“I own Kustom Armor Tattoo. Which means I make my own hours, and since the club had some extra shit on our plate this last week, I didn’t work much.Now.What the hell were you doing in my tattoo shop?” He growls.

“You really should do something about that.” He raises an eyebrow in question at me.

“Your growl. It’s a little wolfish. It might give off the wrong impression to a person. Just a thought.” I drop my gaze to my coffee cup, which is nearly empty, but I still hold on to it and sip slowly. He doesn’t acknowledge my advice about his growl with anything more than a smirk.

Without warning, he’s on me. Jake pulls my cup out of my hand, setting it on the table, then grabs my ankles, sliding me down onto the couch. Straddling my hips, he pins my hands above my head. He holds my wrists in one hand while tickling my sides with his other.

I scream and squeal, bucking my hips, begging him to stop. My head is thrashing from side-to-side and I can’t breathe because I’m laughing so hard. He’s relentless in his attack.

“Fine.” His hand pauses momentarily on my ribs. “I went to see about a tattoo the day I met you in Magpie’s.” His devilish smirk is back, and mischief is alight in his eyes.

“You mean the day youusedme?”

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