Read Online End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) by Jewel E. Ann - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jewel E. Ann
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clean shaven, neatly trimmed nails, and perfect white teeth. But he stood easily over six feet with broad shoulders and those soft hands were large. Jessica imagined the body hidden beneath the immaculately pressed layers of his suit far exceeded handsome.
“I can’t be intimate with a guy until I make him bleed.” Her gaze inched up to his face.
Surely a whisper of a voice in his head screamed “cuckoo.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “That’s messed up, right?”
Dr. Jones rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his chin on his fist. He’d perfected the stoic thinker pose. “And why do you feel the need to do that?”
“I need the illusion of control … not the blood, because I’m a vegetarian.” She twisted her lips. “Hmm, maybe it is the blood. Do you think I have a vitamin deficiency?”
“Why do you say illusion?”
Maybe he’d address the possible vitamin deficiency later.
“Because I don’t need my lovers to roll over and play dead. And I don’t need them tied up. It’s really more of a healthy respect. Okay, maybe not ‘healthy’ but a mutual respect. Fifty-fifty.” She rolled her neck to one side and then the other. “Fifty-one-forty-nine … sixty-forty. Well, you get my point. I just need a guy to think I have control, even if I don’t … which I usually do. My father has a high risk job so he’s made sure my mother, brother, and I have the proper skills to defend ourselves.”
“I see. However, self-defense requires self-control. Making someone bleed just to prove a point is not self-control.”
Jessica spun in the chair a few inches so she could see out the window. Dr. Jones’s twenty-seventh story view of San Francisco Bay was stunning. “Don’t you think there should be some law requiring all psychiatrists to have ground-level offices?”
“Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?”
Jessica turned her head toward him. “Is this about my ‘control’ issue? As in I probably feel the need to control my own destiny, including the way I die?”
He jotted down a few more notes. “No, this is about your suggestion that I have a ground-floor office. I want to be sure you have no intention of throwing yourself out my window.”
She looked back out the tall glass panels. “That might be bad for business.”
“I was referring to the window. I don’t own this space, I just rent it. I imagine replacing that window would be expensive and might prevent the owner from renewing my lease.”
Jessica grinned until she felt it tugging the corners of her eyes. Dr. Jones had a sense of humor, even if dry, which proved his approach to treatment was in fact unconventional. And that made Jessica happy … very happy.
“Maybe you should include a damage deposit at the beginning of treatment.” She spun back around to face him.
His head was still bowed, left hand frantically working the gel-inked pen over the paper. “I just made a note to have my receptionist revise the New Patient Agreement later this afternoon.” He kept writing but looked up at Jessica and for the first time he gave her a smile.
In that moment she was certain of only one thing—she needed him.
Chapter Nine
Knight
T hree nights in a row of rain had the grass climbing to the sky on the first sunny day. A red-streaked tornado ripped through Peaceful Woods with a long ponytail of wavy blond hair, aviator glasses, frayed denim shorts, a silver bikini top, and red rain boots to protect her legs while weed eating. The same boots she’d been wearing with her panties and tank top to get the mail on the previous days. Jillian Knight was subconsciously hell-bent on giving every man in her path a massive heart attack. They were, however, destined to die with a smile.
“Bill has run his mower into three different trees and the corner of one garage. Maybe you should throw on a T-shirt before he ends up in the pond,” Jackson yelled.
Jillian killed the weed eater and popped out her ear buds. “Shut
“I can’t be intimate with a guy until I make him bleed.” Her gaze inched up to his face.
Surely a whisper of a voice in his head screamed “cuckoo.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “That’s messed up, right?”
Dr. Jones rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his chin on his fist. He’d perfected the stoic thinker pose. “And why do you feel the need to do that?”
“I need the illusion of control … not the blood, because I’m a vegetarian.” She twisted her lips. “Hmm, maybe it is the blood. Do you think I have a vitamin deficiency?”
“Why do you say illusion?”
Maybe he’d address the possible vitamin deficiency later.
“Because I don’t need my lovers to roll over and play dead. And I don’t need them tied up. It’s really more of a healthy respect. Okay, maybe not ‘healthy’ but a mutual respect. Fifty-fifty.” She rolled her neck to one side and then the other. “Fifty-one-forty-nine … sixty-forty. Well, you get my point. I just need a guy to think I have control, even if I don’t … which I usually do. My father has a high risk job so he’s made sure my mother, brother, and I have the proper skills to defend ourselves.”
“I see. However, self-defense requires self-control. Making someone bleed just to prove a point is not self-control.”
Jessica spun in the chair a few inches so she could see out the window. Dr. Jones’s twenty-seventh story view of San Francisco Bay was stunning. “Don’t you think there should be some law requiring all psychiatrists to have ground-level offices?”
“Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?”
Jessica turned her head toward him. “Is this about my ‘control’ issue? As in I probably feel the need to control my own destiny, including the way I die?”
He jotted down a few more notes. “No, this is about your suggestion that I have a ground-floor office. I want to be sure you have no intention of throwing yourself out my window.”
She looked back out the tall glass panels. “That might be bad for business.”
“I was referring to the window. I don’t own this space, I just rent it. I imagine replacing that window would be expensive and might prevent the owner from renewing my lease.”
Jessica grinned until she felt it tugging the corners of her eyes. Dr. Jones had a sense of humor, even if dry, which proved his approach to treatment was in fact unconventional. And that made Jessica happy … very happy.
“Maybe you should include a damage deposit at the beginning of treatment.” She spun back around to face him.
His head was still bowed, left hand frantically working the gel-inked pen over the paper. “I just made a note to have my receptionist revise the New Patient Agreement later this afternoon.” He kept writing but looked up at Jessica and for the first time he gave her a smile.
In that moment she was certain of only one thing—she needed him.
Chapter Nine
Knight
T hree nights in a row of rain had the grass climbing to the sky on the first sunny day. A red-streaked tornado ripped through Peaceful Woods with a long ponytail of wavy blond hair, aviator glasses, frayed denim shorts, a silver bikini top, and red rain boots to protect her legs while weed eating. The same boots she’d been wearing with her panties and tank top to get the mail on the previous days. Jillian Knight was subconsciously hell-bent on giving every man in her path a massive heart attack. They were, however, destined to die with a smile.
“Bill has run his mower into three different trees and the corner of one garage. Maybe you should throw on a T-shirt before he ends up in the pond,” Jackson yelled.
Jillian killed the weed eater and popped out her ear buds. “Shut
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