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The Sweetest Package (A Jake Davis Novella Book 2) Page 5


  The feisty Ginger I knew in the Caymans is gone, and I’ll do anything to restore the piss and vinegar back into her. As she’s cuddled into the side of my body, I hear her crying and it’s so different from the person in the airport who gave me grief for saving her from one of her father’s goons.

  I roll over, in order to be face to face with her when I attempt to comfort her. “What is this about?” I ask.

  “Davis, I’m not this sort of pussy crying fucker.” Yes, she’s right about that. In my vision of my Ginger, the type that takes the world by the balls, I can’t imagine her soaking up my side with tears. “But Davis, I never needed anyone before you fucking blew into my life. In the time we were together, I could reconcile those feelings because it was fucking fate.” She sits up and crosses her legs like a toddler would, taking her sleeves of her shirt to wipe her face dry. “But it wasn’t fate, it was fucking orchestrated and calculated.”

  I’m quiet, as she continues, “But it hurts, knowing we were set up.” I nod again but then she changes her demeanor, “But here is the thing. It never diminished the love I carried in my heart for you.”

  She fucking hit the nail on the head. But she’s not done. “And then it hurt more because I never needed anyone, especially a fucking man in my life, to make me complete. But after you let me go, I was half of me because you make me whole.”

  She pauses and I can’t help but laugh because I see a smidge of my Ginger with her words, “But with you not a part of my life and raising Little Davis by myself, I have felt like half a person until you opened that door today.”

  My Ginger has always had a way with words and it has not changed. “Cupcake, you are right, I feel the same way.”

  Taking my hand and placing it on her heart, she continues, “I have had to do this all by myself. When Junior got sick, I was so scared.”

  I cut her off. “Sugar, you won’t have to do it by yourself ever again,” I assure her and when she smiles, I want to catch it, tuck it safe into my heart and never let that look leave me again.

  Before I can say more, she finishes, “Fuck, I’m still scared. I mean, she has been so sick and I went against Luchen's advice to bring her here, to meet you.”

  I sit up instantly because I’m aware of the name and I know I’ll have to face him.

  Luchen Havner has always been Sylvie’s other right-hand man and our resident doctor; not just a ruthless operative but the equivalent of an American James Bond. And it doesn’t escape me that Ginger is his type. Well, anyone with a pussy is his type but again, that man had the most women of anyone I knew of and probably the only man I’ve known in my life to be better looking than me. My history with Luchen has nothing to do with Ginger and Junior so I let it drop. The bottom line is the fucker happens to be dammed good at his job, both spy and doctor.

  “Luchen told me we had four days. Tomorrow will be the day they prep our girl for all the meds she needs to accept the bone marrow.” Holding onto my hand, she continues, “He’s not the specialist that Junior needs but will be meeting us there, to make sure Junior is watched over. Sylvie and Burbank have this long, detailed plan that I’m sure you will want to be part of.”

  Fuck yes. How could I know someone less than eight hours and she already own my heart? Settling back in bed, Ginger’s entire body loosens into mine and we fall asleep quickly. I can’t remember a time in the past three years feeling more at peace than in the arms of my Ginger with our girl sleeping safely next to us.

  I wake to a foot in my ribs and when I survey my surroundings, it’s certainly not Ginger’s foot, but our daughter, who has found her way into our bed, snoring.

  It’s the sweetest thing that has greeted me in the morning since giving up Ginger. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, I look up at the foot and see Ginger smiling at me. Putting her finger over her mouth, she moves her head to the door that leads to Sylvie’s room.

  She walks in before me and in less than the second of her swinging the door closed behind her, she has me in an embrace and we are kissing, as deep and passionate as I remember. “Sorry, I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she says, leaning back with a signature Sasha grin on her face. It’s the sorry I’m not sorry look and taking her head, I bring it back to me.

  “Fuck, I have been waiting for this. You stole my move,” I roar.

  Winking at me, her expression shows me she’s feeling a bit playful and instantly my cock comes to attention, poking her in the stomach. “I see someone wants to come out and play!” she teases, pulling my belt through the loops of the jeans.

  “I’m supposed to take the lead, remember?” A scowl accompanies the serious tone of my voice, but who am I kidding? This is Sasha and I want her, anyway I can get her, for now. Let me make up for the time I’ve missed and then I’ll go back to being the boss in the bedroom.

  With a satisfied look on her face, as if she ate the canary, she exclaims, “I’m bossy, remember, Davis?”

  Laughing, deeply at both her words and touch, when my balls begin to ache, I can only agree, “Yes, I remember, Ginge.” Here’s my redheaded fire and brimstone girl that I remember. She kneels and takes me so deeply I’m sure to explode into her mouth in three seconds. I take her hair, reacquainting how it feels wrapped in my hands, as my eyes roll back in my head. When I come, she looks up and in her normal Ginger way, I see the neck muscles constrict as she swallows all of me. There has never been anything sexier.

  10

  Sasha

  I never once forgot what Jake tasted like or that he could become hard again instantly if I swallow when he erupted into me. The second I stand, after tasting him for the first time, he smiles, “Shit, Ginge, I fucking missed your lips.” Looking around the room, his eyes narrow when he asks, “Where’s Sylvie?”

  “I texted her this morning and asked if she could sit with Junior for a while so I could have some time with you. I needed to taste you. I know we don’t have time to make love, but hell, I missed you.” I look down as he tips my face back. “I’m so sorry that I kept her from you. It was never meant to be in retaliation for you letting me go. I did this for her.”

  “Do you love me?” he asks as if it’s that simple.

  “Well, of course, I never stopped but…”

  “Ginger, I’m going to say this one time and one time only. We both made the decisions at the time that we thought we needed to keep those we love safe. I did it because I loved you then and still do. You did it for our daughter. I’ll never get that time back with you and her but the bigger issue isn’t who is to blame. We know who is to blame. Not you, not me, not even fucking Sylvie. It’s your father. We will live our life together. You better believe it, and as of right this fucking second, we are going to give up this guilt we both have for doing what was really the only option at the time, okay?”

  There are several reasons I love Jake Davis. There are several reasons I fell in love with him in such a short span of time. But this right here, tackling the hard problems head-on and throwing them behind us so we can move forward, may be one of the very top reasons he’s the only man I’ve been able to truly trust with both my heart and the life of our daughter.

  Before I can say another word, he pushes me onto the one bed that hasn’t been slept in. “We need to get back, Davis. This was strictly for you.”

  “I know we are in a hurry but fuck, Ginger, this is not a one-way street. I need to taste you, too.”

  The way Davis is devouring me with his eyes sets my pussy on fire and I know one lick by him will make me see stars in seconds. Now, straddling me with his strong legs, he places a kiss on my lips, one that sends lightning bolts down my body. In his kiss, I feel the safety of home, one I only felt twice in my life. The first time was all the countless memories I made with my mother. Mom had a way of making everything about me and I loved her for it. The only other time since losing my mom would be anytime I was near Davis. Even in the airport three years ago, when this loose cannon tried to put himself between me and one of D
ad’s goons, I could tell there was a tenderness to him. He has not lost it in the years we’ve been separated.

  “I never stopped loving you, Ginge,” he says, breaking from our kiss as he lathers kisses down my neck and across the mountains of my breasts. He looks up with heated eyes, “Fuck, I missed your mountains.” He didn’t forget how I referred to them while we were together that night at the pool when he placed his hands between the fabric of my purple swimsuit and my boobs.

  I smile because as much as I told myself yesterday there was not a chance in hell Jake and I would get back together, I was lying to myself. I went into this reappearance in his life with the confidence that I could be strong when it came to Jake Davis, but I had only been fooling myself. I have never shown restraint around him, so why would I start now?

  I’m deep in my own thoughts when I sense his tongue touch my clit and my body starts to writhe in pleasure because his tongue was made to turn my body on as if he were turning on a switch. “Fuck, Davis.”

  “Ginger, cupcake, you still taste like a sweet fucking peach!” he chimes, taking the briefest of breaks to speak to me as his tongue continues to do circles on my clit. As I have anticipated, it takes him less than a minute to make me come and it’s actually longer than I would have guessed.

  Lapping up everything of mine, I hear a knock on the door and Jake smiles. “As much as I fucking hate her, she at least has good timing.”

  I don’t touch the subject of Sylvie, not yet. It’s still hard for him to trust her. I get it. However, I would have been killed three years ago if it had not been for Sylvie, but Jake doesn’t need this worry on his plate, not yet anyway.

  I make my way over to the door, seeing a little smile on my friend’s face. I wanted to hate her at first but she has a way of working her little self into your life like a piece of gum on the bottom of your shoe. Before I say anything, Sylvie has both my bag and Jake’s bag in her hands. “We need to leave in thirty minutes. I thought you could cut down on time if you showered together.” Taking the bags from her, I stick my tongue out.

  I’d told her before heading to Jake’s that I’d not be getting back together with him. She only laughed profusely at me when she said, “I’m not blind. I’m not Jacob Davis’s biggest fan, yet I know love when I see it. Mark my words, he will be eating your pussy before twenty-four hours gets here.” Sylvie has always had a way with crass words yet she’s normally right, too, and with her little smirk, I know she knows.

  “Man, I want to hate that woman but she has a good point,” Jake says, taking my hand, leading me to the shower.

  Jake is out of the shower before I am, as I told him I needed a few minutes. The lion, though not completely out of control, needed a little trimming today because my man is used to me being completely bare and I love not having carpet in the reception area. The drapes stand alone.

  While I dress quickly in the bathroom in comfortable yoga pants and a long sweatshirt I took from Jakes bag, it’s eerily silent in Sylvie’s room. Pulling my wet hair into a messy bun and brushing my teeth, I walk out to no one and head to my room to grab my shoes. When I walk in, Junior is in her daddy’s arms, too quiet, and Sylvie, Jake, and Burbank are talking in almost muted silence.

  It’s a sight I’ll never tire of but when I see Jake and Sylvie’s face, I know there is more to Junior being in her Daddy’s arms.

  “She has a slight fever. She didn’t wake up with it, just came on in the last five minutes. The guys are loading the cars now,” Sylvie claims and I hate the fear that is gripping my sweet man’s face.

  Kneeling near him and Junior, I touch her forehead and his knee, simultaneously. Jake has tears in his eyes, “I just met her, Ginge. I can’t lose her.”

  “No one is losing anyone today, Davis. They have her room ready and with what you are about to give her, she’ll be fine.” She fucking has to because losing my daughter, well, I might as well be buried next to her if that ever happens.

  Before I know it, we are out of the dank and dreary motel room Sylvie had us in for the night and on our way to Portland, only two hours away.

  11

  Jake

  I’ve taken down some of the worst men in the world but when it comes to the little girl I’m sitting near, I’d kill a million bad men to make sure she’s okay. After fighting over it for five minutes, I decide to let Ginger drive. My body has been shaking but I have the experience to handle a car in a high-speed chase. But I received my first shot in order to donate my bone marrow to Junior. I needed a break to regroup mentally but when I question the ability of Ginge to handle a car in a high-speed chase, my girl only slaps her hands on her hips when she says, “Fuck, Davis. Sylvie has taught me well. You act as if I’m this destitute woman without any know how.”

  I never once would think this about Sasha Peterson. I concede and place Junior in her car seat, still holding tight to her hand that is wrapped around my finger. If I were a betting man, I would say she would forever be wrapped around my finger. I laugh at the importance this girl has become in my heart within the past twenty-four hours and understand love worth dying for.

  It’s in Junior’s green eyes that are mine, or in the devilish smile that is her mother’s, it’s then I know this girl only exists because two people fell in love. Sure, it was sex at first but Ginger found her way to my heart, never faltering from the number one ranking she’s had since she drove away the day I let her go.

  While Sasha begins to follow Burbank and Sylvie, my one hand stays on Junior’s warm cheek and the other is on Ginger’s shoulder as I see she’s right. Sylvie has taught her well.

  “I should have been with her,” I hear Ginger say, I wondered how long it would take for her to blame herself for taking a couple moments to be alone together this morning.

  “Ginge, I was there when she woke up, Sugar. She was cool to the touch. Her fever spiked lying in my arms, right before you walked in the room. Hon, you are a woman in need of love. Yes, a mother first and foremost but you are all woman, my woman, and we needed what we shared this morning.”

  Squeezing her shoulder, I can sense the words I have spoken sink in with no argument on her end.

  Nearing the city of Portland, I ask Ginger to pull over so I can navigate the city streets and she agrees again with no argument. Though I want my sassy redhead back, I sort of like this more agreeable Ginge of mine.

  Even when I had abandoned her, the trust we cultivated in our short amount of time together is still there. Sure, it took some smooth talking when I first saw her but she wasn’t fooling anyone. I’m hers, she belongs to me and I’ll make it my life’s mission never to let her or our daughter down again.

  My mind is all over the place. I have been so involved in convincing Ginger that we are still ‘us’ that I have no idea of the logistical surroundings regarding Junior’s safety. Plus, I’m a dad and the only example I have at that job is the piece of shit that raised me, and I won’t be that sort of father. No wonder my mind is everywhere. It has been a long twenty-four hours and I don’t think my life has changed so much in one day.

  Looking in the rearview mirror, I catch Ginge watching our girl when I finally grab her attention, just watching her and the road equally. “Ginge,” I whisper, “do you know the logistics? I was getting all the information from Sylvie and Burbank when Junior woke up crawling into my arms.” It was so nice to see the look on Sylvie’s face when Junior bypassed her and came straight for me. I kept this little minor victory from Ginger when she came back. Somehow, she’s fond of fucking Sylvie and as much as it hurts, I know Sylvie has been a comfort for my girls when I wasn’t able to be.

  She’s staring at our girl and in her eyes, even looking at her, I can sense it. Ginger and I have this connection. I never told her this before but the second I saw that jackass manhandling her at the airport, I knew she was different, special. “Ginge,” I say again and she’s finally transferred back to the present when she looks at me through her tears.

  “Sorry
, babe, plans. Yes, I just know a little. They are reserving the whole seventh floor. Some of Burbank’s men are going to be patients on the same floor as Junior.” She pauses, “Her room will be secured and we have a place right across from the hospital in one of the hotels, which really is fruitless since both you and Junior are going to be in the hospital. Junior a hell of a lot longer, but I’m not going anywhere regardless.”

  Her little proclamation sends shivers down my spine. She’s not going anywhere because Junior and I are her life. I couldn’t have said it better than that.

  Ginger continues, “We were all going to stay at the hotel tonight but I’m sure with Junior’s temperature, I bet they will keep her overnight and for the ten days before they can give her your bone marrow.” Her disappointment is sensed in her words because that would give us time to be together, but just like she wants the best for our girl, so do I.

  Being with Ginger, I’ve taken every little bit of time with her to get us right again. Soon, I watch the lead car, driven by Burbank, pull onto a street with a side entrance and Ginger already has on a large pair of glasses with her hair pulled up in the same loose bun with a Michigan State hat, and I don my glasses and a Budweiser hat to cover my face. Before I know it, Ginge has an orange ball cap on our girl, which makes her fuss. I understand the reason for the color but for a strong-minded two-year-old, it’s a tough sell.

  “I no yike orange,” she pouts.

  “Sweetie, I know but we’ve been through this. We want to trick people into not knowing who we are and by you wearing orange and your hair up, they will think you are a boy.”

  My girl is not buying it and she continues, “I don’t yike looking like stupid boy.” My ginger is getting more frustrated by the second when I intervene.