Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

His fingers played with the strip of skin at her low back where her shirt ended. She wasn’t a tiny, delicate flower of a woman, but he made her feel feminine all the same.

“For the first time, I wanted to know,” he said.

“To know what?” Her heart raced as she waited for his answer. Part of her wanted to run because she knew it was going to change things. Force her to take a terrifying leap off a very high cliff.

“To know if someone could accept what I’ve done. I killed three people in cold blood, Izzy, and never had one second of regret. The mild-mannered physicist with a full life waiting to be lived turned into a murderer who people fear. And you know the craziest part?”

She tilted her head and squeezed his shoulders. “What?”

“I’d do it again for any of my brothers or their women. I could have gone back to my staid life when it was over, but I chose to join the Handlers. Copper would have let me walk. There wasn’t any pressure. Once darkness entered my life, I embraced it. And I chose it. Now I live with it in some form every single day. My wife would have hated the man I am today.” He shook his head. “Makes me sick sometimes.”

Ahh, there it was. The real devil that wouldn’t release its grip on Jig’s soul. Izzy was swimming in deep water with a raging hurricane rolling in. She didn’t have a clue how to free him from the clasp of pain and guilt, but in some ways, she could relate to him feeling lost in his own skin. For years, she longed for love, affection, connection, but forced herself to harden, shove those feelings aside, and mold herself into a woman who needed no one. So she went with her gut. “I think you’re wrong,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Excuse me?” There was a bite to his words that hadn’t been there moments ago, but Izzy could handle that. The man was entitled to whatever emotions he wanted after all he’d been through.

Sharp teeth didn’t bother Izzy, anyway. She raised an eyebrow. “You told me she was sweet, kind, not judgmental. You told me how much you loved each other. How happy you were.” A small pang of something Izzy feared was jealousy pinched her heart. What kind of horrible person did that make her? Jealous over a man’s prior love for his dead wife.

“I don’t think…” Izzy said, swallowing past thickness in her throat. “I don’t think it sounds like there was anything you could have done to make her hate you.”

Please let that have been the right thing to say.

Jig stared at her so hard it was as though he could see straight through to her insides. Two broken souls afraid of leaning on others for comfort, but who probably needed it more than most, though the universe didn’t seem to care what either wanted. It had its own plan, bringing Izzy and Jig together and forcing both to confront feelings they hadn’t before. She swallowed. There was something kind of sweet about having him hold a little piece of her vulnerability and vice versa. Not that she was ready to admit that out loud.

He slid his hand up her spine until he reached the back of her head. Bringing his mouth a breath away from hers, he whispered, “Thank you.”

Then he captured her lips in a kiss so deep it stole her breath. Gentler than their last kisses, it was so powerful all she could do was hold onto his arms while he explored her mouth and zapped her brain.

Minutes, or it could have even been hours later, he released her mouth. As they panted for breath, Izzy stared at his lips wet from her mouth. He was so handsome, so dangerous, so potent she almost forgot all of her reasons for keeping her distance.

Almost.

“Why haven’t you kicked me out, Izzy? I have nothing to offer you. No future, no happy ending. Just a one-percenter with murders hanging over his head who thinks about fucking you at least a hundred times a day.”

Izzy grinned. “You don’t scare me, Jig. Neither does the darkness inside you.” At least not physically. And she’d have to find a way to keep him from destroying her heart. “I’m no one’s moral authority. Do I want you to become some masked vigilante killer? No, but I don’t judge you for what you did.” She shrugged and gave him a smile. “Not my style.” Then she grew serious. “I don’t trust anyone, Jig. You get burned too many times, and you learn to only rely on yourself. At this point in my life, I don’t think I can learn anything different. So I have nothing to give you either.” Izzy ground her hips on the erection that had grown between them after she’d climbed in his lap. “Except this. And maybe some kind of friendship.”