She’d stepped away from her father, from her brothers, and they all stared at him like the interloper he’d feared becoming. All of them but the one who mattered most, the Maddox Princess.

His Kenni.

She reached out her hand to him. “You can’t leave…”

He shook his head slowly but went to her and took her hand to pull her against him and lay a kiss at the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, baby, just right outside with Slade and Zack. I’ll be here when your Poppy’s ready to let you go for a minute. How’s that?”

“Thank you,” she whispered as he pulled back and stared up at him, those tears still filling her eyes. “Thank you, Jazz.”

He brushed one from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t thank me, sweetheart. No thanks are needed. Just remember, I’m right outside the door.”

“You won’t let me go,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question.

“No, Kenni,” he promised. “I won’t let you go.”

Releasing her to her father once more, he turned and left her with her family.

He had a chance, he told himself. A chance was all he needed to ensure she always ran back to him.

Where she belonged.

*   *   *

Joining Slade and Zack on the front steps he sat down slowly, glanced at them, and let out a hard breath.

“She’ll be safe now.” Once Luce was taken care of, once Kin justice took care of her, then Kenni’s life would be hers again.

“Looks like it,” Zack agreed.

“Tell her you love her yet?” Slade asked, the amusement in his voice pulling a frown to his brow.

Jazz frowned. “She knows.” Didn’t she?

“Bet she don’t,” Slade murmured.

“A hundred says she doesn’t have a clue,” Zack bet.

“Two hundred she moves in with Daddy within twenty-four hours.”

“A thousand says there’s not a chance in hell…” Jazz wouldn’t allow it.

24 Hours Later

Jazz let her get as far as packing that single leather pack she’d brought from the house days before. Sitting back in the easy chair next to the balcony doors, he kept his mouth shut and just watched and listened.

“Everything is still so messed up,” she was saying. “Daddy’s really upset over Luce…”

No doubt, bitch had killed his wife and conspired to kill his daughter. What had Luce expected? Rather than turning her over to Clan justice, though, Vinny had turned her over to his bosses, a division of the Department of Justice. One that didn’t look kindly on anyone attempting to sell their secrets.

“It won’t be for long…” Kenni continued.

Jazz just waited.

“Sawyer and Deacon will feel more comfortable as well,” she stated.

Fuckers, both of them, he thought furiously.

“You’ll have your life back, Jazz.” Her voice cracked when that slipped out of her mouth.

He stared back at her, his arm propped on the chair, one finger sliding back and forth over his chin.

Kenni’s gaze flickered nervously. “Jazz?”

“I love you, Kenni,” he said.

She seemed to freeze before her lips trembled in reaction. “What did you say?”

Jazz rose from the chair and moved to her slowly.

“Didn’t you know, Kenni, that I love you?” How could she not have known?

Her gaze flickered hesitantly. “How would I know?” she asked, barely above a whisper. “You never told me, Jazz.”

Fine, he hadn’t said the words, but surely he’d showed her. Hell, he knew he had.

“So actions don’t matter?” he questioned, stopping several feet from her.

“I didn’t say that,” she pointed out, frowning back at him now. “But the words are important too, Jazz. They’re very important.”

Yes they were, he admitted silently. They were very important. But some actions were just as important.

“You never protested that I didn’t wear a condom,” he said softly. “Are you on birth control?”

“No,” she whispered, linking her fingers together when she could find nothing else to do with her hands.

“I could be carrying twenty different diseases, Kenni.” He glared down at her in reproof.

To that, she shook her head slowly. “Jessie told me about sleeping with you,” she admitted. “And how particular you were about condoms since you began having sex. I didn’t fear diseases in the least, Jazz.”

“And you didn’t question why you were the only woman I’ve fucked without one?”

“I wondered.” Naked, hungry need filled her face now.

“You told me you loved me.” His dick was so hard he wondered if his zipper would survive it. “While I was coming inside you … How can you leave me, Kenni, if you love me?”

“Jazz…” she whispered breathlessly as he jerked his shirt off, then his hands moved to his jeans.

“Undress,” he growled. “Take those damned clothes off before I tear them off you.”

Stripping his jeans, he decided she was out of time.

“Kendra Maddox, I love you with every breath in my body.”

Her lips parted on a gasp and Jazz took full advantage of it. Covering them, his tongue penetrated, found hers, and licked at it with hungry demand.

The little sleeveless T-shirt she wore was easy to tear from her. The material was that thin and fragile. The button popped from her shorts, the zipper might have torn, either way they slid down her legs to pool at the floor.

Her panties were easier than her shirt.

It barely took any effort at all to tear them off her ass. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Damned good thing, he decided, lifting his head.

“Pretty, sweet nipples,” he whispered, lowering his head, suckling one of the tight, hard points between his lips.

*   *   *

Kenni arched against him.

It was so good. So wicked and hot.

Sharp pleasure exploded from the hard point, racing through her nervous system to stoke the flames heating her clit and the aching tissue of her vagina to a conflagration of need.

Her juices spilled from her, moist heat that made the ache sharper.

What was it about Jazz that made her feel drunk, intoxicated with the pleasure he could give her?

When his head rose Kenni whimpered at the loss of sensation, needing more. No matter how much or how often he touched her, she needed more.

“Your nipples are so hard,” he crooned, stroking his thumb over a sensitive tip. Kenni’s breath caught as sizzling reaction raced through the tight bud.

“Like that, don’t you, baby?” he whispered.

“You know I do.” She could barely breathe for the fiery sensation streaking from her nipple to her clit, then to the clenched depths of her vagina.

“I want to know everything you like, Kenni,” he whispered, his lips lowering to feather against hers as he spoke. “Everything that makes your nipples hard. Everything that makes your pussy wetter.”

Her breath caught. Sensation flashed across her flesh before whipping to her womb with clenching pleasure.

His hand lifted from her breast, threaded through her hair, and tilted her head back for a hungry, mind-blowing kiss.

At least it blew her little mind.

Parting her lips his tongue swept over hers, drawing a ragged cry from her throat.

When his head lifted they were both breathless. And Kenni was greedy. She was hungry, dying to feel him, touch him—taste him. Because she knew no matter the pleasure she gave him, he’d give her back far more.

When his head lifted her lips moved to his chest. Broad, powerful muscles flexed beneath her lips and tongue. As she moved lower, rasping her nails against his side, her lips and tongue tasted more of his flesh. Ached for more.

The broad, engorged head of his cock throbbed as she curved her fingers beneath it, stroking down the shaft, fascinated by the satin-over-iron feel of it. It wasn’t just the feel of him she needed, though. It was the taste of him. The taste of his need, of his pleasure.

Swiping her tongue over the engorged crest, she didn’t expect the taste of salt and male arousal to explode over her senses as it did. Lowering herself until she knelt in front of him, Kenni parted her lips over the swollen head, feeling it flex and throb against her tongue, filling her mouth as the explicit, erotic act had a slick rush of moisture rushing from her vagina.