JACKSON Page 8

  I strap on my Jimmy Choos first and then pull the dress on in front of the long mirror in Jackson’s bathroom. The dress is short, hitting me mid-thigh, but it’s so beautiful, and my legs look endless in the high stiletto sandals. I wonder if he had help picking this out or if he chose it himself. It’s sexy, in an understated, sophisticated way, and it’s not something I imagined he would pick. Given his rep, one would think he’d choose something more obviously sexy, but I haven’t given him enough credit.

  I smile over the lump in my throat as I stare at my reflection.

  Jackson is the best thing to happen to me, and I really hope I don’t fuck it up.

  My fingers dance along my bare collarbone, and I wish I’d thought to bring jewelry with me. At least, I had the sense to bring a small glittery black purse, and it works perfectly with this outfit.

  A few spritzes of Hypnotic Poison by Christian Dior and I’m done.

  It’s time to make my grand entrance.

  Nerves prick at me as I step out of the bedroom, smoothing a hand down over my hair as I make my way up to the roof. I keep my shoulders back and my head high, ignoring the butterflies in my tummy as I step out onto Sawyer’s rooftop haven.

  The guys are seated on the couches, drinking and chatting, and my heels make a subtle clicking sound as I walk toward them. As one, their heads turn in my direction.

  Xavier whistles, and Sawyer blinks a couple times, but it’s Jackson’s reaction that has my heart doing the samba behind my chest cavity. My boyfriend can’t keep his eyes off me, and the lust-drenched look on his face is obvious in the extreme as he rakes his gaze over me from head to toe.

  He stands, stepping toward me as if on autopilot. His intense attention causes tiny goose bumps to sprout on my arms, and the butterflies descend to my stomach, running amok. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips, his hot gaze locked on mine. It’s as if it’s just the two of us up here. Our friends, and the outside world, have ceased to exist.

  “You have stolen all the breath from my lungs, Nessa,” he rasps, brushing his lips along the back of my knuckles. “You look incredible. I don’t have the words to express how fucking beautiful you are.”

  My cheeks heat with pleasure, and that sentiment from earlier is back in full force. “Thank you again,” I whisper.

  “Having you on my arm tonight is all the thanks I need.” He takes my hand, steering me toward the others.

  “Wow,” Xavier says. “You are straight fire, Van. It’s almost enough to turn me hetero.” He winks, and I giggle.

  Sawyer stands. “You are stunning, Van.” He kisses my cheeks, staring at Jackson. “Far too good for that asshole.” There’s a little bite to his words that would ordinarily surprise me if I wasn’t already aware there is some tension between him and my boyfriend.

  “Thank you, Sawyer. And Jackson’s not an asshole. He’s one of the best guys I’ve ever known. I know you know that deep down,” I say, feeling the need to defend him.

  “I agree that, deep down, Jackson knows the right thing to do,” he cryptically replies.

  Xavier’s brow creases, and his gaze bounces between Jackson and Sawyer.

  Before I can dwell on Sawyer’s strange comment, Jackson has pulled me down on the couch beside him. “I have something else for you.”

  I shake my head. “You have already given me too much.” Without knowing the exact price, I know this dress was expensive.

  Jackson opens a large black velvet box, and my eyes almost bug out of my head.

  “Let me put it on,” he says, removing the gold and black choker-style Dior necklace from the box. I hold my hair up as he puts it on me. “Gorgeous.” He plants a light kiss on my lips. “You look like a goddess.” He slides the matching cuff band on my wrist, and I feel like a goddess. Like a million dollars. Emotion clogs my throat, and my heart races as a myriad of different feelings lay siege to my body.

  “We should move,” Sawyer says. “I practically had to offer up my firstborn child to get this reservation.”

  “Shall we?” Jackson takes my hand and helps me to my feet.

  “Let the party begin,” Xavier says, rubbing his hands in glee.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Vanessa

  “HAVING A GOOD time?” Jackson inquires, gliding his lips across my ear as his hands land on my waist.

  “The best.” The restaurant was sublime, and then, we moved on to Glitter, where I’m currently draining my third virgin cocktail.

  “Let’s go dancing!” Xavier finishes his vodka cranberry, eyeballing Sawyer with a look that dares him to say no.

  Sawyer looks to Jackson, quirking a brow. They’ve been coolly civil all night, which I guess is progress. “Is there time?”

  Jackson glances at his Tag Heuer watch. “We have an hour or so.”

  “Before what?” I inquire, sipping my drink through my straw.

  He tweaks my nose. “Another surprise.”

  Setting my drink down, I twist around in his arms. My hands slide up his delectable chest. He looks so fucking hot tonight in his snug white button-down shirt, dark jeans, and black Yeezys. His shirt is rolled up to his elbows, showcasing drool-worthy arm porn. “I think you’re spoiling me.” I plant a kiss on the underside of his prickly jawline. He smells fucking divine, like orange blossom and mint and cinnamon, and good enough to eat.

  “It’s my job,” he jokes, moving his palms to cup my ass.

  “Well, you’re very good at it,” I murmur, pressing featherlight kisses along his jawline.

  “And you’re very good at making me so fucking hard for you.” He subtly rocks his hips into mine, drilling the point home.

  I coyly bite down on my lip, palming one side of his face. “I can’t hold out much longer, Jackson.” I pull his body into mine. “I need you.”

  He grabs fistfuls of my ass. “Ditto, babe, and I’ll look after you when we get home. I promise.”

  Our eyes meet, and it’s like looking in a mirror. My desire is reflected at me in the stunning azure depths of his eyes.

  A surge of emotion crests over me, knocking everything else aside. Three little words beg to be let out, and I want to say them, so badly, but I’m scared.

  We move at the same time, angling our heads perfectly in sync, our mouths colliding in a melting pot of pent-up desire and potent lust. Calling this a kiss is a bit of an understatement. We ravish one another, tongues invading, lips bruising, and bodies connecting in all the right places. I claw at him, needing him even closer, and I’m drowning in sensations I never want to emerge from.

  When we finally come up for air, Sawyer and Xavier are nowhere to be seen. Jackson rests his forehead against mine, and we stare at one another as our chests rise and fall. “What are you doing to me, Nessa?” he whispers. “It’s like you’ve cast a spell on me.” A tormented streak flits across his face, but it’s gone so fast I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it.

  “I feel the same way.” I circle my arms around his neck, holding him close, never wanting to let him go. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone ever before,” I whisper into his ear. “It scares me as much as it thrills me.” And that’s as close to the truth as I’m brave enough to admit.

  “I’m right there with you, babe.” His arms slide around my waist, holding me in his warm, tight embrace. “It’s … confusing.” He keeps his arms locked around me, and I rest my head on his chest, feeling more cherished than I ever have.

  We stay like that as the party rages on around us, but we might as well exist on a different plane.

  After an indeterminable amount of time, he eases out of my embrace. “Let’s find the others. Xavier won’t let me live it down if I don’t let you dance with him.”

  Jackson keeps me close as we move through the bar out to a door at the back of the room. He flashes a card at the bouncers, and they step aside to let us pass through. We climb down mirrored stairs that lead to the basement club.

  Heavy beats pu
lse through the crowded space as we enter the club. Jackson strides confidently through the masses, flashing his card again to gain entry to the VIP area where Xavier and Sawyer are waiting for us.

  The instant he spots us, Xavier jumps up, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me out onto the private dance floor. The dance floor faces a row of floor-to-ceiling windows that look out into the main club. “We can see out, but they can’t see in,” he explains.

  We dance for a few songs, and I’m having the time of my life. Xavier is fantastic company and the easiest person to grow comfortable with. It feels like I have known him forever.

  When familiar hands land on my hips and a warm body presses into me from behind, I almost melt on the spot. I lean back against Jackson, moving my body in tune with his as we work up a sweat on the dance floor.

  Xavier persuades Sawyer to join him, but every attempt he makes to dirty dance with his lover ends with him being shoved away.

  Jackson chuckles in my ear, and I honestly don’t know what to make of those two. It’s no secret Sawyer is bisexual. I’ve seen him kiss girls and guys during parties in The Hamptons, so I don’t know why he’s deflecting Xavier’s advances in public.

  It’s not because Xavier is protective of his sexuality. He’s clearly comfortable in his own skin, and he wears his homosexuality with pride. I know they shared a room last night, because I bumped into Xavier coming out of Sawyer’s master bedroom this morning, and it was obvious from his state of undress and his messed-up hair they weren’t just sleeping. Sawyer isn’t the type to get embarrassed or to let other’s opinions affect him, so I wonder why he’s keeping Xavier at arm’s length.

  We leave just after one a.m., climbing into Jackson’s SUV. He insisted on driving, and he has been drinking water all night.

  When we pull up to the gas station on the outskirts of Queens, I understand why. “You’re racing?” I turn to face him as he maneuvers the SUV into an empty space in the alleyway to the left of the gas station.

  “Yep.” His eyes light up as he kills the engine.

  I bounce in my seat, clapping my hands. “Oh yay! I’ve always wanted to see you race,” I truthfully admit.

  In the back seat, Xavier snorts out a laugh. “You look like a bona fide groupie, Van.”

  I glance over my shoulder, grinning at him. “I don’t care. Jackson’s a fucking legend in the underground racing scene.” I refocus on my boyfriend. “I didn’t think you raced anymore, not since—”

  “I got arrested?” he asks, smirking. I nod. I’m only privy to that information because I hung around the guys most summers, eavesdropping on conversations. “I haven’t raced in a couple years, because I was too much of a mess, but the itch hasn’t gone away,” he confesses.

  Hands slam down on the hood of the SUV, and I shriek, jumping in my seat. Jackson chuckles before opening the door and hopping out.

  He greets the guy standing in front of his hood like a long-lost buddy, engaging in some elaborate hug-slash-hand maneuver with the big dude with dreads and a wide grin. The guy’s jeans are hanging so low on his hips they look like they might fall off any second. His sheer size is intimidating, but the jovial, friendly expression on his face implies he’s about as dangerous as a giant teddy.

  “Who is that?” Xavier asks, peering between the console to get a better look.

  “You’re better off not knowing,” Sawyer replies in a clipped tone. “You need to curb your inquisitive nature here. They don’t like strangers asking questions even if they have rocked up with Hustle.”

  “Hustle?” I inquire, casting a glance over my shoulder.

  “That’s Lauder’s street name.” Sawyer curls his hand around the door handle. “Stick close to me tonight. Place is gonna get crazy when word gets out Hustle is racing again.” He pins Xavier with a warning look. “These are not the kind of people you want to get on the wrong side of.”

  Xavier flips him the bird. “I don’t need a fucking lesson or a babysitter. I know how to handle myself.”

  Sawyer climbs out as Jackson opens the passenger door for me. He lifts me out by my waist, carefully placing my feet on the ground.

  The big, scary dude peruses me from head to toe, whistling under his breath, but it’s not leery or disrespectful. “Damn, Hustle. You’re boxing above your weight.”

  “Damn fuckin’ straight.” Jackson takes my hand. “Nessa, meet Comet. The second-best streetcar racer in New York.”

  Comet thumps Jackson in the upper arm, and I wince in sympathy. The guy’s hand is almost as big as my head, so that’s got to hurt. “We’ll see about that real soon, Hustle.” Comet dips his head a little. “Pleasure to meet you. If you ever get tired of this jackass, call me up.”

  I smile.

  “Is everything set up?” Sawyer asks, coming to stand on my other side.

  “Sup, man.” Comet jerks his head at Sawyer in greeting, raising an inquisitive brow in Xavier’s direction.

  “He’s a friend,” Sawyer says, answering some unspoken question.

  Xavier’s face drops a little, but he quickly recovers. “Hey, man. Good to meet you.” He shoots Comet a flirty smile before inspecting him from head to toe in a deliberate move I’m certain is for Sawyer’s benefit.

  Comet looks a little flustered and unsure what to make of the newcomer. Jackson subtly takes a step back, making a throat-slitting motion, warning Xavier to back down with his eyes. Jackson slaps his hand on Comet’s shoulder. “Where’s my baby?” he asks, bouncing on his feet, barely containing his excitement.

  “This way.” Comet lifts one shoulder, eyeing Xavier a little warily as he takes off.

  Jackson locks the SUV, keeping hold of my hand as we follow Comet out of the alleyway and around into the gas station where a dozen souped-up cars are lined up in two rows. Mobs of guys and girls crowd the cars, some smoking, some drinking, and others just talking. The scent of MJ wafts through the air, mingling with raucous laughter, and there’s a laid-back vibe I wasn’t expecting to find at an illegal street race.

  Jackson brings me with him as he says hi to the other drivers. Most are guys, but it looks like there are a couple of female racers too.

  I’m a little self-conscious in my expensive dress and strappy stilettos, because most of the girls are wearing jeans or cutoffs or short dresses with sneakers.

  Jackson keeps me close, introducing me to some of the other racers as his girl, and warmth blooms in my chest. I love how good it feels to be part of a couple, and I love that he brought me here tonight. I don’t miss the hostile looks directed my way from several females, but it’s of little surprise and something I’ll have to get used to.

  Jackson is hot, charming, rich, and desirable. To most girls, he’s the ultimate prize. To me, he is so much more than a fuckable, wealthy guy. He is also sweet, loving, funny, and attentive, and those qualities far outweigh his other traits.

  Winning his affection is one thing. Holding on to it will be the challenge.

  I hate that thought the instant it lands in my brain, working hard to shake off the sudden melancholy.

  “Wow,” Xavier murmurs in my ear. “If looks could kill, you’d be mincemeat, girl.”

  I shrug. “Being on the receiving end of those kinds of looks is nothing new for me.” I’m not the kind of girl who has tons of female friends. It’s the opposite. Most girls dislike me, and I can count on one hand the number of girls I have called a friend over the years.

  “My sweet ride! Hells yeah.” Jackson drops my hand, fist pumping the air when he reaches a car at the end of the first row. It’s a sleek, black Ford Mustang, I think, but it’s obviously had work done. Two red stripes intersect the center of the hood, and there are matching red stripes on both doors. The windows are tinted, and the wheels are the biggest alloy wheels I have ever seen on a car.

  Jackson leans down, kissing the hood like it’s the most precious thing in the world. I suppose, to him, it probably is. He does an elaborate arm shake with a tall, skinny dude wearin
g a garish illuminous green T-shirt and ripped jeans, grinning excitedly as they talk.

  “He’s in his element,” I murmur to Sawyer.

  “Racing is in his blood,” Sawyer agrees. “Although his dad would prefer he sign to one of his teams and race legitimately.”

  “Why doesn’t he?” I inquire, watching as Jackson accepts keys from the skinny dude.

  “Travis is insisting Jackson gets his business degree first. He wants him to have something to fall back on.”

  Mention of a degree reminds me that my time with Jackson has an expiration date. In a month, he will be starting at Rydeville University while I’ll be stuck here. We haven’t talked about what happens then, and I don’t know if he’ll want to try a long-distance relationship or just end things.

  A deep ache slices across my chest at that thought, and for the second time in minutes, melancholy has a vise grip on my heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vanessa

  “HEY, GIRL. WHATEVER hideous thought just put that sad look on your face should be wiped immediately from your memory.” Xavier circles his arm around my shoulder. “This is gonna be epic.”

  “Babe.” Jackson approaches, taking my hand and hauling me toward his car. “Meet my other girl.” He pecks my lips, grinning. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “Gorgeous,” I agree, admiring the car up close.

  “I’ll take you out in her sometime,” he says, jumping up onto the hood and pulling me into his lap. He cups one side of my face, his expression sobering a little. “You okay with all this?”

  “I’m more than okay with it,” I reply, forcing my melancholy aside. “I’ve never been to a street race. It’s exciting.”

  Holding the nape of my neck, he crashes his mouth against mine, kissing me like we’re not in the middle of a packed gas station in Queens, surrounded by a boisterous crowd and the revving of several engines. “Wish me luck,” he says, breaking the kiss and planting my feet on the ground.