Page 68 of Saving the Last Heir
“He told me he’s going to make me do another job of some sort. Something else before he’ll give my sister back,” he said, and as he spoke he kept his eyes averted. “I didn’t tell you because it’s not your problem to deal with.” He glanced up, water dripping from his black hair. “You’ve already done so much for me, I didn’t want you to worry about anything more.”
“I don’t like this,” I said, suddenly worried for him. A sharp, aching pang of fear pierced my chest. “How can you trust these guys to honor their word? I mean, you almost got killed stealing the car. What happens if the next job ismoredangerous?”
Jackson nodded his head. “That thought has occurred to me. I’ve talked to Christian about it. Even if itisworse, I don’t have much of a choice. They’ve got me over a barrel. I’ll do anything I have to in order to save my baby sister. That’s all there is to it.”
The sheer volume of love and devotion he had for his family was clear in his words, but it still terrified me. These people were basically mobsters. I was scared he’d end up hurt, arrested, or worse,dead.
“What if that’s their plan?” I said. “To keep making you do all their dirty work. You could do this forever, and they’ll never give her back.”
He let out a slow breath and smiled sadly. “Then that’s what I’ll do. At least, I’ll do it until I can figure out a way to get her back. Until then, I’ll do as I’m told, even though it pisses me off beyond belief. Here, turn around, I’ll get your back.”
I did as he asked, turning in place, my mind whirring with a million awful possibilities. Those faded a bit as he rubbed the soap into my back, his fingers slipping and sliding along my skin, even kneading the muscles of my shoulders, which pulled a groan of satisfaction from me.
“I remember that sound,” he said, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“If we had more time, you could hear it again.”
A deep, guttural animalistic growl reverberated through the shower, damn near rattling the glass of the door. I spun around.
“What thefuckwas that?” I gasped.
He gave me the closest thing he had to a sheepish look. “Sorry. I…uh…shifters growl sometimes. It’s our inner animal showing emotion. Usually, it’s when we’re mad or…aroused.”
“That…” I blinked at him, then grinned. “Actually, that’s kindahot.” I glanced down, and my grin got bigger. “I see you weren’t lying about the aroused part.”
My hand drifted close to his rapidly hardening cock, but he reached out and took my wrist gently, raising it to his mouth and kissing my palm.
“Next time,” he said. “I may be a horny dragon, but I’m a horny dragon with a job to do.”
I pouted at him, but nodded. “True. I guess it’ll give me something to look forward to.”
“Oh, I’lldefinitelybe looking forward to it,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me once more.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed him. The hot water streamed down around us as our bodies pressed together.There was no way to know what was going to come of this. As amazing as the night before had been, I was a realist. I wasn’t in love with this man, but I knew that if things kept going this way, that would happen fairly soon. Unfortunately, the water began to cool, and we had to get out.
We dried off and got dressed.
“Now for the awkward part,” I said as I tied my shoes.
“What’s the awkward part?” Jackson said, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.
“Okay, Mister Dragon Shifter,” I said. “Iknowyou can smell that.”
Jackson tilted his head back and sniffed the air. “Is that…chorizo?”
“Yup. Dad’s up and making breakfast. And that,” I said, pointing at the door, “is the only exit.”
Jackson grinned. “So I get to meet the father? Intense.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Shyanne, I have the drake mafia trying to get me killed. I think I can handle a middle-aged man.”
“You haven’t met Marquel Tuyuc.” Though, in reality, Dad might be more excited than irritated by seeing me with a guy. He’d obviously been worried I was lonely over the past few months. Of course, it would be less awkward for them to meet over lunch or dinner rather than walking out of my apartment freshly fucked, but here we were.
As I unlocked the door and stepping out into the hall that connected my efficiency apartment to Dad’s house, the firstthing I noticed was the smell. It had been almost twelve hours since our disastrous dinner at Juan’s, and there’d been alotof physical exertion in the hours between. I was starving. My stomach gurgled at the thought of food.
Dad stood at the stove, stirring a chorizo and potato hash in a cast iron skillet. Beside that, eggs were frying in a smaller pan, the tops gently bubbling as they cooked. When we entered the kitchen, he didn’t look up, instead he began speaking without looking up.
