JACKSON Page 6

  And what the fuck is up with that?

  I shake myself out of that pansy-ass thought. “So, what’s next? You planning on college?”

  Silence greets my questions, and I lift her head, cupping her face and forcing her gaze to mine. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. Of course not.” Her smile is sad. “I want to go to college, but I wasn’t approved for any of the scholarships I applied for.”

  “Won’t your parents pay for it?”

  She shakes her head. “They’ve washed their hands of me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Aaron suppressed all my applications.”

  “Shit’s that bad?”

  She nods. “He hates me.” She averts her gaze, and prickles of apprehension raise goose bumps on my arms.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She plucks at the grass with her long, slim fingers. “It’s the classic scenario. I’m not his flesh and blood. He was stuck with me when he married my mom. And I’ve done nothing but cause him trouble and damage his precious reputation.” She barks out a bitter laugh. “What a fucking joke. If—” She pushes to her feet. “Actually, I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’ll only get in a bad mood. I need to shower.”

  Hmm. I’m sensing there’s more she’s not saying, but I’m not going to push her on it. “Hang on.” I jump up. “Let me clear this up, and I’ll walk you home.”

  “You live in the opposite direction. It’s fine, Jackson.”

  “How about an early movie then?” I suggest. “We can both head home, get changed, and I’ll come get you.”

  “You don’t have to spend your entire day with me. I’m sure you’ve got other stuff to do,” she says, shuffling awkwardly on her feet. She chews on the corner of her mouth as her shoulders slump and her lips pull down.

  Why does she look so insecure all of a sudden?

  It feels like whatever progress we were making has suffered a setback, but I can’t work out why.

  I place my hands lightly on her hips, pulling her into me. “You’re the only one I want to do,” I tease before remembering my role. That is not something Prince Charming would say. More like his douchebag evil arch nemesis. “I’ll rephrase,” I add even though her lips are already curving up. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend my free time with you. I’m not ready to let you go, babe.” She laughs, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. My eyes close momentarily. “I like being with you. Please say yes.” I press my mouth to her ear. “Say yes; say yes.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” She looks up at me through long, thick lashes. “And yes. I’ll go to the movies with you.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Vanessa

  “OH MY GOD. That was so cheesy,” I say, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walk home from the movie theater. We ended up catching a later show because Jackson had to go somewhere with Sawyer, but I didn’t mind. I spent my afternoon on the balcony reading and dozing before taking a long shower and spending time getting ready for my date.

  “I thought girls loved all that mushy shit.” Jackson places a soft kiss on my temple.

  “I must be missing that gene,” I joke. “That part where he was confessing his love in that hideous flowery language, in front of all those people, at the top of the Eiffel Tower had me cringing. I actually had to look away from the screen and block my ears.”

  “Man, it was corny as fuck,” Jackson agrees, “but for my first chick flick, it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be.”

  “I like some chick flicks, but they can be a bit hit or miss. The Notebook and Sweet Home Alabama are two of my favorite movies, but the most romantic movie I’ve watched is The English Patient.” I place a hand over my heart. “Forbidden love at its finest. It’s tragically beautiful.” I look up at him, blushing at the intent look on his face. “Have you ever watched it?”

  “Can’t say I’ve even heard of it.”

  “That’s a tragedy in itself.” I cling on to his arm, smiling up at him. “I’m sure I can stream it from somewhere. You want to come over one night this week and watch it with me? I’ll make dinner too.”

  “It’s a date,” he says, and my lady parts swoon.

  “You want to come up?” I ask when we reach my door, hoping he doesn’t turn me down again.

  He nips at my earlobe. “Try stopping me,” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver in anticipation.

  We head up to my apartment, and I deposit my purse on the kitchen counter as Jackson closes the door. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” I ask.

  “Nope.” He stalks toward me with that infamous cocky swagger of his. “There’s only one thing I want.” He reels me against his toned body. Leaning his face down, he lines our mouths up so there’s only a sliver of a gap between us. “You,” he whispers in a husky voice.

  He slams his lips down on mine, and we devour one another without hesitation. I’m clawing at him, desperately needing to get closer, as his wicked lips and tongue whip me into a frenzy. I tighten my arms around his neck, rocking my pelvis against his erection, letting him know I’m down with this.

  Without breaking our lip-lock, he grabs my hips and lifts me onto the counter. My thighs automatically spread to accommodate him, and I moan into his mouth at the feel of his hard cock pressing against my pussy. I wrap my legs around his waist, tugging him in closer, grinding my crotch against him in a pathetic attempt to ease the friction building in my core.

  I want him so bad, and my panties are already damp with need.

  I’ve heard the gossip about him over the years. Jackson is an awesome fuck, according to his previous hookups, and I want to experience that for myself.

  His hands roam my body, fondling my breasts through my dress, and it isn’t long before my nipples are as hard as bullets. He tugs the spaghetti strap down on one side, revealing my bare flesh. “Fuck, Nessa,” he says, playing with my breast. “You’re perfect.”

  “Jackson.” I tilt my head back and arch my body, pushing my boob into his hand. “I need you.”

  “You’re so hot like this,” he rasps, rolling my taut nipple between his fingers.

  I grab his shoulders just as he lowers his head, sucking my nipple into his warm mouth. I cry out as a dart of desire shoots through my core. I dig my heels into his back, desperate for more. No man’s touch has ever felt this good or made me feel so alive. I want to drown in the sensations Jackson is wrenching from my body and never come up for air.

  His mouth leaves my breast as he trails a line of wet kisses up over my collarbone and on to my neck. He sucks on that sensitive spot just below my ear, and I squirm on the counter, hot and needy and dying to come.

  If he keeps touching and kissing me like he’s doing, I’m likely to come without his fingers even brushing my clit, and that would be a first. “You feel so damn good, baby,” he whispers into my ear while his fingers slowly push the hem of my knee-length dress up.

  I silently fist pump the air until that horrible inner voice sneers in my ear, attempting to shake my confidence.

  What if he can tell you are damaged goods? What if you’re not good enough? Not tight enough? A disappointment?

  A whole host of familiar taunts races through my brain, pulling me out of the euphoric bubble I was encased in. I flinch. It’s barely discernible, but he notices, his hand stalling on my bare thigh, his head lifting from my neck.

  “Hey.” Worried eyes penetrate mine. “What happened? You want me to stop?”

  “I … No.” I pull myself together, remembering Mara and Chloe’s advice. Every part of opening myself up to this man is scary, but I will never truly move forward unless I’m brave. Unless I take a risk and trust him. I pull his head to mine, planting a hard kiss on his lips. “Don’t stop, Jackson. Please.”

  He threads his hand through my hair, firmly clasping the back of my neck. “We’re still gonna go slow, but I want to make you feel good. Let me make you come.”

  I nod.


  “Words, babe. I need to hear the words.”

  “I want you to do that. I need to come real bad.”

  “I’ll look after you, babe.” His kiss is sweet and tender, and tears prick the back of my eyes. “Lie back and close your eyes,” he commands, and I do as he says.

  Cool air brushes over my thighs and my panties as he pushes my dress up, bunching it at the waist. Lifting my left leg, he begins trailing kisses up my calf, along the bend in my knee, and over my thigh. My pussy is pulsing with need, and I grip the edges of the counter when Jackson presses his mouth against my mound.

  “So fucking sweet,” he murmurs, nuzzling into my panty-covered pussy. His hands roam up and down my legs, and I am completely at his command. He could tell me to jump off a cliff right now, and I’d do it. I have lost control of my body and my mind, and he’s the puppet master pulling the strings.

  His fingers brush my hipbones, sending darts of pleasure ricocheting through me as he gently pulls my lace panties down my legs.

  “So fucking sweet,” he repeats, parting my pussy folds with his thumbs. I open my eyes and look down at him. He’s staring at my most intimate parts, licking his lips with fire dancing in his eyes.

  Before my inner demons have time to plague me with doubts, he leans in and licks me. My eyes shutter again as I cry out. His tongue goes to work on my pussy, trailing a line up and down my slit, before plunging inside me.

  My hips buck off the counter, and he places his palm on my lower belly holding me in place. “Keep still, babe. I want to make this so fucking good for you.”

  “It already is,” I pant, a little embarrassed at how breathless I sound. I cry out again when he pushes two fingers inside me, easing them in and out of my wet channel while his tongue flicks against my clit. “Jackson,” I warn, as the pressure intensifies inside me, building and building.

  “Let go, baby,” he demands, curling his fingers inside me, hitting all the right places. “Come for me, Nessa,” he adds, sucking fiercely on my clit, and I go off like a rocket leaving NASA for outer space.

  The orgasm rips through me, and Jackson’s strong palm holds me in place as I buck and writhe, screaming as wave after wave of liquid bliss streaks through me like a comet in the night sky. He continues pumping his fingers in and out of me, and sucking on my clit, until I’m sated, lying motionless on my kitchen counter, limbless and missing a small piece of my heart and soul.

  “What was that?” I murmur as he scoops me up, cradling me in his arms.

  He chuckles as I fight a yawn. My body is gently jostled as he walks. “That, baby, was the Jackson Lauder experience.” He places me in bed, carefully removing my dress before pulling the comforter up over me. “Also known as ruining you for all other men.”

  And that’s the last thing I hear before I conk out.

  The next couple of weeks fly by in a blur where I’m consumed with work and all things Jackson. It’s safe to say I’m obsessed and falling head over heels for the one guy I never seriously considered. He stays true to his word, showing up at my door at six thirty a.m. every morning so we can run together. Every evening, he is waiting outside the diner when my shift finishes. We spend every night together, either eating out or staying in, cuddled up on the couch watching movies.

  It feels so comfortable, as if we’ve been doing this forever, and I never want it to end.

  Although we are kissing and making out like crazy, we still haven’t fucked, and he refuses to spend the night. But I can’t fault him for being a gentleman, and, honestly, it makes me feel special in a way I’ve never felt before.

  I’m used to men taking what they want from my body and discarding me when they’ve had their fill. Jackson makes me feel like I’m worth more, and I’m starting to believe it.

  “You have that look on your face again,” Chloe says, yanking me out of my head.

  “Do I dare ask?” I pull another couple of designer dresses out of my wardrobe and place them on the bed.

  “The look of love, babe.” She loops her arm through mine.

  “Or maybe, it’s the look of lust,” I quip, needing to deflect this conversation because I’m so not ready for it.

  “You’ve finally done the deed?” she questions, holding up the red Prada dress I wore to a function hosted by the stepmonster’s company the Christmas before last.

  “No.” The longing is obvious on my face. “But I’m staying at his place this weekend, so I’m hopeful.”

  I was delighted when Jackson asked me, because Sawyer’s boyfriend, or hookup, or whatever Xavier is, is also staying the weekend.

  That Jackson wants me to meet his other friends, and to become immersed in his life, seems like an important next step.

  One I’m eager to take.

  “You need new lingerie,” she says, like I can magically pull it out of thin air.

  “You know I don’t have the money for that.” I wave at the dresses, shoes, and jewelry on my bed. “Hence why I’m selling some of my best stuff online.”

  “I’m sorry, babe.” She gives me a quick hug. “Sometimes my mouth opens before my brain has engaged.”

  “It’s okay. You’re right. I wish I could afford to buy something sexy, but I’ll just have to make do.”

  “You could wear a garbage bag and still be sexy as hell.”

  I snort. “I doubt anyone could pull off sexy in a garbage bag.”

  “You could.” She has no idea how much her support and loyalty mean to me. Even the fact she is here, helping me to choose the best items to sell, instead of going to see her boyfriend Jon play a gig with his band, means everything. “I’m not joking, Van. You could be a model. You have the face, the height, and the body. You turn heads every place we go.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I shake my head, unwrapping a gorgeous pair of black Jimmy Choos I hate to part with, but I know they’ll fetch a good price even if they aren’t the latest season.

  Out of nowhere, an image of me with Jackson surges to the forefront of my mind. I’m wearing the strappy black sandals and nothing else, sitting on the edge of a bed, with my legs spread wide. He’s crouched in front of me, running one hand up my leg as he trails hot kisses up my other leg. It’s hot as fuck, and the visual is so vivid my core pulses with raw need, wishing it was reality and not a figment of my imagination.

  I put the shoes back in the box and replace them in the closet, unwilling to part with them now.

  “You’re oblivious to it, but it’s true.” Chloe takes hold of my elbow, forcing me to focus on her. “Someone did a real number on you, and I’d love to know who so I could kick their ass.”

  I swallow over the lump lodged in my throat. I wish I could tell her, but I’m terrified if I open those floodgates, if I let it all pour out, that I’ll never be able to close them again. I’ve survived the only way I know how, and I haven’t come this far only to undo all my good work. Leaving that shit in the past is for the best. Chloe does not need to hear that horror story, and I sure as fuck don’t want Jackson to find out. I doubt he’d be so keen if he knew his girlfriend let her stepmonster abuse her for years.

  “Shit happens, girl. And I’m crawling my way out of the hole. But modeling is not the answer.” I don’t elaborate, and she knows me well enough to drop it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jackson

  “BEFORE WE GO up,” I say, taking her hand in mine over the console of my SUV. “I need to explain about Xavier.”

  “Okay.” She waits for me to continue.

  “He’s a little out there.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, his hair is green for starters.”

  “Wow. That’s a deal breaker right there,” she jokes.

  I tweak her nose. “Saucy. Me likey.” Leaning forward, I lick her cheek, like a dog in heat.

  “Eww.” She pushes me off, half-laughing. “You’re weird.”

  I chuckle. “That’s a first.” I flash her one of my trademark grins, and she swoons, as usual. />
  “What else?” she asks.

  “He has a wacky sense of style, zero filter, and he spews the most random shit at times. He’s also loud as fuck when he fucks.”

  “Do I even want to know?”

  “Nope. Not going there.” My grin expands.

  “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”

  “Not scare. Prepare.” I tweak her nose again, and she swats my hand away. “He’s good people. For all his eccentric ways, he’s also loyal as fuck, highly fucking intelligent, and very entertaining company. He’s just … loud and in your face. Don’t take offense to it.”

  “I’m intrigued. Can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Hunt has walked over to Grand Central Station to pick him up. They won’t be long.” I take her hand, kissing her knuckles. “You look edible, by the way.”

  “Edible?” She chokes on a laugh. “Please tell me you mean that literally.”

  “If you want me to eat you out again, baby, you only have to ask.” I flash her another wicked smile, knowing it’ll get her all worked up.

  “As much as I enjoy your talented tongue and your talented fingers, it’s your talented cock I’m more interested in.”

  I love this more confident side to my girl. “My cock is talented.” My smug grin is off the Richter Scale. “Patience you must have, my young padawan.”

  “Weird,” she murmurs, giggling, and I cup her face.

  “That’s another Xavier trait. He has a host of movie quotes at the tip of his tongue, and he’s a total Star Wars and Marvel nerd. Don’t even get me started on the Batman leathers he has for his Harley.” I shake my head, grinning as I visualize the time I saw him in that ridiculous outfit. Man, Xavier Daniels is a unique experience everyone needs to see at least once in their lifetime.

  “I can’t fucking wait to meet him. Might even ditch you for him,” she quips.

  “Sorry to disappoint, babe, but you’ve the wrong equipment. Women don’t do it for Xavier.” Hell, I’m surprised Hunt does. They are polar opposites, and they annoy the shit out of one another, but there’s chemistry there too. I don’t know what’s going on with them, because we don’t talk about shit like that, but I suspect Hunt is battling his feelings for Xavier.