Ghost (Evil Dead MC 5)

“Jess, you should get some sleep.”

She looked up at him with those big eyes, confused again. Then her gaze dropped to his mouth and apparently she’d thought better of that idea, deciding she didn’t want to sleep, because she moved in to take his mouth again.

He pushed her back.

“Jess, stop it. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “Don’t. You know why.”

“Don’t you want me?”

Right, like that was the problem. “You know that’s not it.”

“Then kiss me.”

“Jess.”

She curled further into him, that thigh of hers sliding back and forth across his crotch driving him to distraction. Fuck, did she even know what she was doing to him? Of course she did. “Brat, we can’t do this.”

His use of the nickname he’d always called her must have gotten to her.

“I’m not a child anymore, Ghost.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, no shit. That’s part of the problem.”

Her hands slid up his chest, cupping his neck, his jaw. “We’re both adults. We both want this. I know you want me.”

His hands clamped over her wrists, pulling her hands off him before he succumbed to her touch. “Jess, we can’t. Not you and me. That’s not what we have. We can’t ever go there.”

“Why not?”

“Because its you. I can’t go there with you and then…”

“And then what?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t have a fling with her. It couldn’t lead anywhere, how could it? Not with the life he led, not with the things he’d done. Things he knew the moment she found out, she’d be done with him. There was no way in hell, if she ever found that shit out, if he ever told her, and he knew damn well he’d eventually have to tell her, because it would eat at him, hell it was already eating at him, tearing him inside out. But when she found out, she’d leave. She walk out that door so fast, it’d make his head spin. And then where would he be? How could he have her, taste her, take everything she had to give and then let her go? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to, he knew himself well enough to know that it would be the straw that broke him. After losing Tommy, after pulling away from her because he knew it was what was best for her, then to finally go there with her after all these years, only to have to let her go all over again? No way. He couldn’t do it.

It gave him the strength to push her back.

“Not gonna happen, brat. Now go to fucking sleep.” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended, probably because of all that pent up desire surging through his body. She looked hurt, but maybe that was for the best. Hurt and a little pissed. Yep, that would probably be enough to keep her from pulling this shit again. She’d be mortified in the morning, embarrassed she’d come on to him and he’d turned her down, rejected her flat. And that would be enough to keep her from trying this shit again.

And that was best for both of them.

She pulled away, moving across the bed, putting a good foot between them. She flounced onto her stomach, turning her face to the opposite wall, her back rigid. His eyes stayed on her. Hell, he hated having to hurt her like that, especially when it was all bullshit lies. He wanted her. Hell, he’d wanted her since she’d come of age, maybe even before that. But he couldn’t go there. Not with her. That was a line he couldn’t allow himself to cross. She trusted him, she always had. She’d always looked up to him with big eyes filled with worship. He’d seen it, right from the beginning. With Jess it was hard to miss. But his job had always been to protect her. A job he took seriously. And he’d do that now, even if it meant protecting her from himself.

He turned his head, his eyes to the ceiling. Fuck, it was gonna be a long night, and an even longer trip. They had another stop before they got home. Another night of this torture, trapped in a room with her, forced to keep his hands off her. His jaw tightened. And then what? What the fuck was he going to do with her when they got back home? Her mom was living in Daytona now, Death Head territory. He sure as hell couldn’t ship her off there. Not that Butcher would let him. Not with what she knew. Nope, Butcher would use her to make a deal with the DKs. A deal the club needed. Butcher wanted an alliance with them. Needed one to keep the Death Heads from pushing into both their territories. Hell, it was an alliance that benefited both clubs. It was just a matter of talking the DKs into seeing it that way that was the problem. But with the information Jessie had, it could make the difference.

Fuck, he was exhausted. He felt the long miles of road they’d traveled catching up with him, and his eyes slid closed. He’d worry about dealing with a pissed off Jess tomorrow. Tonight he just needed sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jessie felt the bed move and cracked one bloodshot eye open to see Ghost get up and go into the bathroom. When the door shut, she rolled to her back and squinted at the crack of light coming in the curtains, groaning as a hangover headache throbbed in her head. Swinging her legs over the side, she slowly sat up, her tongue thick with cottonmouth, and her body aching from yesterday’s long ride.

The sound of the toilet flushing carried through the door, drawing her eyes to it. A moment later, the door swung open and Ghost walked out. He stopped when he saw she was awake, his head coming up.

“Morning,” she whispered. She watched his eyes sweep down her and stop on her chest. She glanced down and realized the flannel shirt was unbuttoned and hung open, exposing a three-inch wide gap from her throat to her panties. She quickly pulled the plackets together and buttoned two buttons.