Loving the Bad Boy Series

Chapter 2

"f**k. My. Life," Jenna sighed, glaring down at her keys. Should she pick them up, or leave them and just sleep on her doorstep? It was about as comfortable as sleeping in her tiny bed in her tiny house.

Finally, she bent over, swept the keys up and tried fitting them in the lock again, this time more successfully. She shouldn't have bothered though, it was unlocked. Apparently she forgot to lock the door when she left that morning for her shift at the prison. She wasn't surprised, she'd been distracted lately between fighting for custody of her daughter and picking up extra shifts at the prison.

It'd been an extremely long day too. Deborah had called in sick, so Jenna's shift had gone from eight hours to fourteen. Not that she minded, she could use the overtime. Especially since she poured every cent into her custody battle with her ex-husband, Zach.

The house was dark. She reached out to turn on a light, but nothing happened when she flicked the switch. She sighed heavily. She'd have to find a flashlight, make her way down to the breaker box and try to figure out why light wasn't happening. Jenna liked to think of herself as an emancipated woman, but it was times like this, when faced with a spidery basement in a hovel of a house that she wished for a roommate.

Jenna dropped her lunch bag and purse on the living room chair and shrugged off her sweater. She was still wearing her nursing scrubs and running shoes when she reached out blindly in the darkness, heading toward her tiny kitchen in the hopes of finding a flashlight. She didn't make it that far. An arm wrapped around her waist from behind and yanked her up and off the ground at the same time as a hand clamped firmly over her mouth and nose.

Jenna screamed into the hand and struggled wildly against the arms that held her. She tried to dig her fingers into the arm around her waist, but it was so thick and strong, she couldn't move him at all. He didn't say anything, just held her tightly as her struggles grew weaker. Tears gathered in her eyes as spots began to dance in the dark in front of her. Did Zack hire someone to kill her? Was he finally done with her presence as a constant thorn in his side?

She knew she was about to pass out from panic and lack of air. Finally she went limp in his hold, hoping he might think she was defeated.

He tilted his head forward. She felt bristles from his chin brush against her cheek and shuddered. A deep, sinister voice spoke quietly in her ear. "I'm going to move my hand. If you scream, I'll be forced to hurt you badly. You understand?"

Jenna wanted to nod, but she was too weak from lack of oxygen. He seemed to understand and took his hand away from her face. She gulped in quick breaths of air, sobbing at the same time, tears rolling down her cheeks. She would have collapsed to the floor if he wasn't holding her so tightly. She felt like a doll, laying limp in his arms. He was a huge man, similar in size to the one that had been at her house the day before. Jenna was around 5'7", not too tall, not too short. But nowhere near his size, probably coming to just over his shoulder while standing on her own two feet. Though she wasn't tiny, she felt extremely sleight and breakable in his arms.

She caught a glimpse of his hand as he moved it, and through the dim light from the street filtering through her living room window she could see the dark ink of tattoos. Though she couldn't be positive, she was pretty sure he wasn't associated with Zach, but with the guy who had come to her house the day before to menace her.

He gave her time to recover her breath. She was becoming painfully aware that her ass was lifted and nestled against his crotch. She tried shifting away from him but his arm tightened painfully, forcing her ass more fully against him. She gasped and clutched his arm.

"Please!" she whispered desperately.

"You know why I'm here, Jenna?" His voice was a deep purr as it slid over the syllables of her name.

"Yes." She nodded her head.

He growled from behind her and brought his free hand up to grip her hair tightly, dragging her head back into his chest. He dropped his head until his lips brushed against her cheek, then her ear. He stiffened and then pressed his face against her hair and… sniffed her? It was a strange moment, but she got the sense he hadn't meant to do that. He breathed in her scent, lightly at first, and then more deeply, finally burying his nose into the crook of her neck. It was weird. Especially considering she was coming off a fourteen-hour shift. She wasn't exactly smelling like a bed of roses.

Jenna stood up on her tiptoes, on top of his thick boots so her legs wouldn't just dangle above the floor. What should she do? Just stand there and be sniffed? Or beg for her life? She sensed she was being held by one of the deadliest men she'd ever encountered. And that was saying something for a woman that worked in a prison.

Finally he spoke. "Tell me why I'm here, baby."

"You're… you're here about a message for Enrico Garcia."

She shivered against him. His arm tightened in reaction, causing her fingers to skitter over his forearm in fright. The muscle rippled under her fingertips. He widened his stance, slowly lowering her to the floor so she could stand between his legs, which made it even easier to tuck her ass back against his hips. She gasped, feeling the press of a sizeable erection against her.

He chuckled darkly from behind her and pushed the hair back from her ear, running his finger over the delicate shell. She tried to flinch away, but he clamped his hand down on her shoulder, holding her still. "I heard you have a problem delivering my message."

Jenna nodded, knowing she was dealing with a much different man than the other guy that had ridden up on a motorcycle and tried to threaten her, but proceeded to wrap himself around her little finger. This guy wouldn't be manipulated by the damsel in distress routine she'd been practicing for years for the lawyers and the courts in order to get her daughter back. Although to be fair, she'd never anticipated needing it for some scary biker guy.

Without warning, the man holding Jenna shoved her forward into the wall next to the kitchen. She opened her mouth to yell, but snapped it shut on a whimper, remembering his warning to hurt her if she screamed. He landed heavily behind her, crushing her against the wall. He reached down and yanked her arms up, trapping them over her head by holding her wrists in one of his hands. He ground his denim clad c**k against her lower back, unable to reach her ass now that she was on her feet. She bit back a whimper of sheer terror. Taking a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back again.

"That doesn't work for me, babe."