Page 14 of Savage Temptation (Savage Reign #2)

EMILIA

I love you.

His words hit me in the heart with the force of a freight train.

I rise to the tips of my toes, slip my hand underneath his hair and love the feel of him giving me power over him.

If only for just a moment. He comes in, following my gesture and I take his mouth in a kiss.

We’ve locked lips over a hundred times in the few short hours since our reunion, but this one is slow. Intent and full of love.

“Jagger “Storm” Malone,” I whisper against his lips. “I–”

My words are cut off with the shrill of his cell phone cutting in. “Sorry, baby. I gotta take this.” He brushes the back of his knuckles over my heated cheek and kisses the tip of my nose. I go to walk away and give him space, but he holds me to him.

“Stay by my side, baby. I have nothing to say you can’t hear.” He traces the edge of my towel.

He answers whoever is on the other side and I watch him take in fresh information. I love how his lips press together at times or his brows rise at others. He hits end and then Jagger pulls back and studies my face for a long moment.

“Never leave my side, baby. Promise me.”

I know he’s not meaning in the literal sense right now. “Never.” And I mean that with every fiber of my being.

His mouth claims mine, hungry and possessive, conveying every unspoken feeling we both crave to express without uttering a single word.

My fingers slip through his hair and right when I think I am about to be spread out on the massive wooden desk behind me. But no such luck.

“Baby, I would love nothing more than to give you what those pretty eyes are asking for, but I need to check something. That was Bourbon. He said he left the list of patrons who signed in this evening. Reaper wants to see it. Might hold some names we can use to track down Ares’ brother faster.”

“I’ll take a rain check.”

His laugh is rough, and the rumbling of his chest against mine makes me feel whole. “Deal.”

I pat his butt as he walks by, heading for the front.

Once he is far enough away, I whisper, “I love you, Jager Malone. I love you with all my heart.” I laugh a little. Damn phone. I hate I was cut off, but I have all night to tell him. I want to do it the next time we make love.

I pull on my borrowed socks which are a little big but better than being barefoot. Next is the sweatpants. I look around for another shirt since I left the other one on the piano. Casting about, I spot a small wooden chest at the end of a sofa. I pop it open.

Bingo. Every color of shirt available in cotton is in here.

I fumble through it. “Oh, pink.” I grab that and slip on the V neck. In doing so, a gun falls out and tumbles to the side. My hands still over the weapon as I consider my options. But in the end, I put it back and take the shirt. Guns are not who I am.

I slip the shirt on just as Jagger’s booming voice echoes down the hallway. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but he doesn’t sound happy.

I go to head that way, but pause by the side alley door. Something moved on the other side. Or was that a voice?

I move closer. Listen. Yeah, there it is again. It sounds something like a thud and drag. Thud and drag and then comes, “Hey, it’s Acadian.”

I jump, my heart going from slow and steady to racing out of control.

Fists pound against the door. “Let me in. I need to see Jagger. It’s important.” The voice is muffled and a little higher pitched than what I remember Acadian having, but then again, he’s talking to me through a large metal door.

Oh, God . What if Oliver hurt him or found his mom?

I don’t know what has me throwing the deadbolt open and grabbing the doorknob or what has me turning.

Call it having too much heart for a boy who obviously loves his mom, or call it outright what it is…

stupidity. But I do and the second the hinges grind open, a snub-nosed revolver is in my face.

Blood drains from my face.

“Good girl.”

The stench of tobacco hits me first and then murky green eyes and an ugly smirk on a face I loathe steps out of the darkness.

“Oliver,” I seethe. “You just don’t know when to quit.”

Oliver takes a step toward me, pushing me in the opposite direction.

When I take another step back, the greedy mob boss tosses a lifeless Acadian at my feet.

My heart breaks. Tears want to fall for the boy I barely knew, but I don’t have that luxury unless I want to join him.

“Bitches in heat are so fucking predictable. I told you once, gator bait, you’re either mine or no one’s.”

Metal grinds as he cocks the hammer back.

This is it. I’m going to die and I won’t get a chance to tell Jagger how much I love him.

My rekindled passion for life fizzles. Fate, you worthless bitch, is all I can think as I raise my hands and step up to put the muzzle of his gun in the center of my forehead.

I refuse to go out scared and shivering.

If this is it, I refuse to let this man see me crying. “You want me dead? Do it, you sleaze ball. Fuck you, Oli–”

My words are cut off as a roar rips through the tension. There’s a blur of movement and all I see in my peripheral is a massively pissed off Jagger barreling toward us. His laser focus is locked in on Oliver and I know for a fact the bayou is getting another body tonight.

Whose, is the question.

In the span of half a second I have a gun to my head and then it’s gone. Oliver’s love of all things food-related is working against him as he tumbles into Jagger’s office and bounces off the ledge of a heavy desk.

Jagger is on him. Fists meet flesh and bone. Grunts and manly cries rent through the air. Oliver’s, I notice.

Oliver doesn’t let up until Oliver gets a lucky shot to the side of Jagger’s head. It doesn’t move him, but Oliver does knock his head sideways. It is all the opportunity Oliver needs to grab the snub-nose gun that fell to the desk.

The fucker raises the gun, his eyes gleaming with madness.

Everything fast forwards. Jagger moves in a blur of motion and then…

Bang.

My heart stops.

Reality pushes front and center in my brain when I see Jagger take a knee, clutching at his side.

My muscles coil. Since action before thinking seems to be the theme of the evening, I move.

Shoving away self doubt and the knowledge that I don't know what I’m doing I dive into the office and grab the gun from the wooden chest.

Still on my knees, I whirl before Oliver has a chance to stop staring at his handy work. The second those beady eyes find me, I pull the trigger.

Disbelief filters out all other emotions from Oliver’s face.

Three hundred pounds of demon falls to his knees and Oliver meets the same fate he offered to so many before me.

Trembling from head to toe, I drop the gun back in the chest and rush to Jagger, who looks pale but is still upright.

“Where are you hit? Where?” I run my hands over the expanse of his chest. Nothing. Thank you, Jesus. I throw up his shirt and that is when I see the entry point. I scramble over to the chest, grab a handful of shirts and I am right back, pressing the wad of cotton against the wound.

“It’s nothing serious, baby.” Jagger stops me from trying to get his shirt off.

“No, you gotta let me look. I have to stop the bleeding.” Crazy man was just shot. Okay? Is he for real? My inner monologue spirals as he shrugs off being shot at point-blank range, as if it’s nothing.

“Emilia. Stop, baby. Slow down.”

He draws me up until he can put an arm around me and uses his other hand to grab my chin. “Stop worrying about me. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

My world slows down. My heart doesn’t, but yeah, my world does when I look into Jagger's worried eyes.

“I’m okay. Oliver is not.”

Jagger shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad. He had it coming either from me or someone, but he was not living through the night.”

“We need to call the cops.” I look around at the mess and at poor Acadian’s lifeless body. His mother will suffer from so much heartache when she finds out. “Oh, Jagger. This is just one big-ass shit show.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

I throw his arm over my shoulder just as the pounding of boots on asphalt hits my ears.

“Storm? Emilia?”

“In here,” I call out. The next half hour is filled with Reaper stepping in and getting the scene under control. He makes the call to the authorities, too. I’m pretty sure there are a lot of badges who are going to be secretly happy Oliver is the one who is gator bait now.

The irony. As cold-hearted as that makes me sound, I like how fate turned the table on a man composed of so much poison.

“The boy’s name was Acadian,” I offer Reaper, and then I tell him everything we found out this evening.

From the list of scheduled deliveries, how orders are placed, and down to the other piece of paper with the port deliveries.

“Your friend's brother will probably know a lot more about that, though.”

Reaper grunts his agreement. “I’ll get it taken care of. I’m sorry this had to be part of your coming back to us.”

I shrug. “If it hadn't happened, maybe I would be on my way to another city right now, and still under Oliver’s thumb.”

Reaper pulls me in for a hug and tells me, “Welcome back, Emilia. The rest of the crew and I will take over from here. Jagger needs you. Go be with him before he comes looking for you.”

The tough biker smiles down at me in a way that makes me wish I had a father like him. If I had, I would have never had a problem with a man like Oliver.

I walk back to the office to find Venom, who is the club medic, patching Jagger up with two sets of stitches and a good amount of gauze pads. “Went through and through. He’ll be as good as new in no time.”

Jagger pulls me to sit on his lap, earning us both an irritated grimace from Venom. “No wild sex, you two. Not even a little. Two weeks, and then you can go back at it like two wild rabbits.”

A bucket of heat hits my cheeks. “Look how pretty you are so flushed.” Jagger’s lips claim mine and I half hear Venom excuse himself, but I am way too busy savoring the taste of my man’s kiss.

I break the connection. “I love you.” My eyes bounce between Jagger’s. “Before someone else breaks in, shoots at us or interrupts us, I love you, Jagger “Storm” Malone. Now, forever and always.”

I press my forehead to his and let the evening wash away, if only for a few moments.

Our family is handling all the ugly details of tonight and it’s okay to let them carry that burden for just a moment.

I am not alone. We are not alone. Temptation and sin brought me into Jagger's life five years ago.

I had no business falling for a man his age, but I gave in to temptation then just as I am doing now.

I press my lips to his and feed all my love into that one connection.

“Now, forever and always,” he repeats, and it feels locked in with fate and all the powers to be guiding us through this life. We will never be without one another again.

“Venom said you two lovebirds would be back here.”

I’m pulled off Jagger’s lap and into a set of strong arms.

“Glad you didn’t die on us. I would have hated to plan your funeral the same night we welcomed you back home.”

Cipher passes me back to Jagger who tucks my smaller frame against his larger one.

That man is gonna find love one day and when he does, he won’t know what to do with all those emotions I see swimming in his pretty eyes. I smile to myself. And I can't wait to watch him fall head over heels.

Cipher throws a smirk at me as he walks toward the exit of the office, off to do who knows what. “We need to work on your wardrobe choices, little sis.” Looking amused, the large biker looks back at me, winking.

I peer down at myself long enough to see my socks are halfway off and there’s blood on my pink shirt. The oversized sweatpants didn’t fare much better.

Damn it.

“I see you couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.”

Detective Lafleur fills Cipher’s empty spot, her scowl and look of eternal irritation still plastered all over her face.

It’s a long time before we get to go home, but when we do Jagger and I don't leave his room at the Savage compound for a solid week.

It is the best seven days of my life.