Loving Lies by Lora Leigh

stopped. Barely.
    Jessie stared at the fist in shock. Broad, hard as a rock, scraped and bleeding and no more than an inch from her nose. Swallowing tightly she raised her eyes to his face and felt that first shocking awareness again like a punch to her womb.
    Enraged gray eyes stared back at her, then at his fist, as Jazz staggered to his feet, gripping her shoulders and panting above her.
    â€œHell, baby, I think Slade is mad. What do you think? Was it the butt comment?”
    Slade growled a curse so explicit Jessie shuddered in fear at the rage in his voice.
    â€œBoth of you are asses.” She was fighting to breathe, struggling with rage, confusion, and an echo of past pain, staring at an older, harder Slade, her hands curling against his chest as the heat and sensations of pleasure began to rush through her system.
    She jerked back, her teeth snapping together in self-disgust as she stared into his dark, forbidding expression. Saw the black fury that overwhelmed him as he glanced at Jazz’s hands on her shoulders, looked in her eyes, then back to the hands.
    She wasn’t about to move. She couldn’t move. She was mesmerized by him, by the savagery in his expression, the white-hot fury that turned his gray eyes black.
    Slade was home. She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything past the fact that he was back.
    â€œHey, baby, I want to point out you’re staring at him like he’s fresh meat and you’re starving. Not good for that claim of being over him, you know,” Jazz spoke at her ear, his voice amused, his hands frankly caressing on her shoulders as Slade’s gaze snapped to them, jerking Jessie back to reality.
    â€œHave you lost your mind?” she sneered, pushing Jazz back as she retreated as well. He was following her lead much too easily. “Are both of you insane?”
    Her face flushed with embarrassment as she caught sight of the crowd gathered behind Slade, watching in interest at the scandal unfolding before them.
    â€œGet your fucking hands off her!” Slade’s voice was low, a rough, furious growl that sent alarm shaking through Jessie.
    Evidently, Jazz wasn’t in his normally intelligent frame of mind.
    â€œHey, you gave her to me to take care of. I just did what you asked. I’m taking care of her.”
    Shock rocked through her system. She stared back at Slade, rage slowly burning inside her as the truth began to fill her.
    â€œYou touched her.”
    Jazz sighed. “Yeah. I did. And boy did I—”
    Jessie slammed her elbow into his abdomen, smiling with sharp pleasure at his indrawn breath. She could feel her body shuddering from the inside out, anger eating away at her control before she stepped away from both of them.
    â€œGave me to him?” Her lips were shaking, her hands clenching into fists to keep the rage from exploding through her. “You dared to care one way or the fucking other what happened to me?” She was screaming, only barely aware of the tone of her voice as her arm swung, involuntarily, the anger surging so hard and fast inside her that she wasn’t aware of what she was doing until she felt the shock of her fist connecting with his jaw.
    His head jerked to the side then swung back, his gaze piercing, his body tight, his expression drawn into lines of dangerous, soul-deep rage.
    â€œBefore you hit me, I do need to point out that I’ve been a very good boy lately.” Jazz held his hands in front of him, smiling despite the bloodied, bruised condition of his face. “I even promise to clean my pervert wagon.”
    He wasn’t in the least regretful. He didn’t show even an ounce of remorse. Jessie could feel the eyes on her, dozens watching the scene in fascination. She stepped back from both men, tears filling her eyes as betrayal washed through her.
    â€œYou have no right.” She pointed a shaky finger toward Slade. “No right. You know it and I know