“Wait! Caroline, wait.” He grabbed her by her upper arms. She looked at her arms and then up at him. “I’m sorry if that came out all wrong. Listen, I think we need to get our relationship back on an even footing. And I thought that a romantic getaway for a weekend would be a fabulous way to do that. Don’t you think so?” He smiled down at her, his usual charming smile that wasn’t working at all. “Come on, you know you’ve been having a hard time. I want to treat you to some luxury living. You know we’re meant to be together.”
Caroline tried to wrench herself away, but his grip was strong. He worked out a lot at the gym. “Sanders, I hate to break this to you, but we have no relationship. If anything, you’ve got a relationship with that brunette I saw you with last week.” Considering he’d had his hand up her skirt and his tongue down her throat. Caroline had seen them outside a trendy Italian eatery, Patrizio’s, as she was driving home after a late night in the shop shelving new books.
“Oh-ho.” His face cleared. “You’re jealous. That’s it. Oh, sweetheart, I promise you, you have nothing to be jealous about. That woman doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the one I care for. Always have. Always will. Now’s our time, Caroline. Finally.”
To her horror, he pulled her close and kissed her. It wasn’t a first-date kiss either. They’d been to bed together so he presumed he had the right to go for full-frontal, tongue-in-mouth kissing.
Caroline tried to pull away, but he was holding the back of her head, hard, his fingers twisted in her hair. He was hurting her. Clutching her so tightly to him, it felt like her ribs were cracking. And—horribly—he was grinding against her and she could feel the beginnings of an erection against her mound.
That galvanized her. She did not want to feel his penis against her. Ack. She started pushing against him in earnest, trying to tell him to cut it out, but his mouth absorbed her words. She ended up making mewling sounds of protest, beating her fists against his chest.
He rubbed even harder against her, and she felt him surge into a full erection. God, this was awful! His eyes were closed, as if this were a romantic moment between two lovers, and not an act of force.
His tongue moved in her mouth like a warm wet slug, and it sickened her. She struggled harder, trying to kick him, managing mostly to bruise her toes. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling at it so hard it brought tears to her eyes.
Ouch! You’re hurting me! The words were there, in her throat, but she couldn’t say them, she could only make horrified noises. She finally landed a kick, but it only made him hold her head more tightly to him. He was in a frenzy now, his teeth clashing against hers as he changed the kiss to delve more deeply into her mouth, hips rubbing against hers. Horrible noises were coming out of his throat, and she could feel his penis swell even further.
He bit her lip, drawing blood. She could taste her blood, and so could he. His penis rippled with arousal, and he groaned as he ground himself against her. Her blood excited him.
Oh God, this had never even occurred to her. The couple of times they’d made love, it had been perfectly bland. Pleasant but not overly so. Totally unmemorable.
But right now, it looked like Sanders had a cruel streak she had never suspected. He got off on pain. He was definitely turned on by the taste of her blood and her pain.
She was fighting in earnest now, kicking, screaming into his mouth, trying to punch him, though it was almost impossible while he was holding her so close to him.
She was shaking with rage, trying vainly to free herself when all of a sudden she was free, staggering to catch her balance, staring.
Jack was holding Sanders’s arm wrenched behind his back, so hard Sanders was on the balls of his feet, wheezing with pain.
He was white-faced, blond strands of hair falling over his forehead, eyes unfocused, a little stripe of blood at the corner of his mouth. Her blood.
His eyes were wild, so wide open she could see white all around his irises.
Though Sanders was writhing wildly to get out of Jack’s grasp, it was impossible. Jack was standing utterly still, feet braced apart, touching Sanders only with his hand on his wrist, but it was as if Sanders were shackled in steel restraints.
“Touch her again, you fucker, and I will break your arm. Right after I break your fucking neck.” Jack’s voice was low, vicious. Sanders’s eyes widened, then he cried out as Jack tightened his grip.
“Let me go! Who the hell are you? Caroline! Tell this maniac to let me go! Ahhh!” His voice rose in panic as Jack lifted his hand. Sanders was standing completely on the tips of his toes now, and if he dropped to his heels, he’d break his own arm against Jack’s steady, relentless hold. Sanders was sweating, face completely bloodless. “Caroline, tell him to let me go!”
Jack lifted his hand another inch, and Sanders screamed in pain, writhing, out of control.
Jack wasn’t out of control at all. He was utterly still, he wasn’t even breathing hard, but something cold and feral in his eyes made her step forward and touch him on the arm. Later, she would mull over the fact that she felt no fear of him even in the middle of an act of violence.
She’d just been mauled by Sanders, a puppy dog compared to Jack, who looked utterly capable of terrifying violence, but not for a second did she fear him. Instinctively, the knowledge welling up from a place deep inside herself, a quiet, deep place she trusted, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
He wrenched Sanders’s wrist an inch higher, and Sanders screamed.
Satisfying as it was to watch, she couldn’t stand by and watch Jack break Sanders’s arm. “Jack,” she whispered, putting her hand on his arm. “Don’t. That’s enough.”
His dark eyes were narrowed into slits, a violent light in them. Still holding the writhing Sanders with ease, he reached out with his other hand to touch the corner of her mouth, wiping away the streak of blood.
“I could kill him for this alone,” he said. There was something in his voice that had Sanders’s eyes opening wide in panic.
“No.” If there was one thing Caroline knew, it was that she didn’t want any more violence. She already felt sick to her stomach after her struggle with Sanders, ashamed that she’d never seen beneath his surface. Her stomach was knotted with tension. “Let him go, Jack.”
He looked at her, hard, jaw muscles jumping. His entire body language was screaming that he wanted revenge. He could take it, too. Sanders was something of a gym rat, but he was absolutely no match for Jack, who had an entirely different order of strength and knowledge of martial arts. He had subdued Sanders with ridiculous ease, and Caroline had no doubt he could have wiped the floor with him.
There was a shadow of extreme violence hovering in the room, visible in the tight lines around Jack’s eyes, in the hot light of rage in his eyes, in his stance. Caroline was certain as certain could be that Jack was capable of killing Sanders. He was physically capable, and he could do it without remorse.
He was a soldier, after all, and that’s what soldiers did. Killed their enemies.
“Let him go. Now, Jack,” she whispered, and it was enough. Jack abruptly let go of him and Sanders lurched to keep his balance. He rubbed the ball of his shoulder, glaring at Jack, then at her, as if he’d been wronged. His hair was mussed, and he was sweating heavily.
“You son of a bitch, you’re going to live to regret this,” Sanders swore, slurring the words. It was a sign of how upset he was. Sanders’s normal speaking voice was deliberate, almost a drawl, but now he was gulping in great gasps of air, the words pouring out of him. “I’m a lawyer, you asshole and you better believe I’m going to sue your sorry ass for so much money it will take you ten fucking lifetimes to get out of debt!”
The instant Jack released Sanders, he’d turned to Caroline, wiping away the little streak of blood at her mouth, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. But at Sanders’s words, he turned his head and looked back at Sanders.