by C. R. Jane
I was hoisted onto the gurney, what felt like a million people’s gazes locked on my every move. Landry was by my side as I was wheeled out, but as I looked back…Jackson just looked lost. He looked like he’d just come to a terrible realization, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.
And Caiden…he was just watching me leave. A grim look on his face.
CHAPTER EIGHT
At the hospital, I waited for the bad news. Landry had told everyone he was my boyfriend so that he could stay with me, and I didn’t have the strength or energy to correct him. Lane had taken a cab to the hospital and had somehow managed to beg her way into my room, probably telling the staff she was my sister or something so that she would be allowed access.
As soon as the doctor left after his initial checkup, Landry whirled around, a furious look on his face. “Why didn’t you come find me as soon as you guys got to the party? And how much did you fucking drink? I can’t believe you fell down the stairs, you aren’t even wearing heels.”
I knew he was just concerned, but I was annoyed at his tone. “I didn’t ‘fall’ down the stairs, Landry. I was pushed.”
Lane gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.
“Are you sure?” Landry asked, a note of doubt laced through his voice.
I got irrationally angry. “I told you I shouldn’t have come. You know that someone’s been doing something to me. They obviously took advantage of the crowd to get close to me once again.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been off doing who knows what at the party,” Landry spit out. He grabbed at his hair. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that.”
“I think you should probably go home. Lane’s here, and I’ll be fine,” I told him stiffly, trying to keep my upper lip from quivering too much.
Landry sighed heavily. He opened his mouth to argue, but Lane must have shot him a look behind my back, because he promptly snapped his mouth closed without saying anything.
“Will you call me with how you’re doing?” he asked desperately as he hovered by the door.
“I’ll text you,” I said firmly with my best “fuck you” voice.
Landry looked like I’d kicked his puppy as he walked out of the room. I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
“I’m sorry too,” said Lane in a small voice as she came and sat on the edge of my hospital bed, tears brimming in her eyes. They were red-rimmed and swollen. I don’t think she’d stopped crying since I’d woken up.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you to go to the party. You’re just already so closed off. I just wanted you to have fun.”
“I didn’t want to go to the party because I was scared, I just didn’t want to be around Jackson, if he showed up…and I hate crowds,” I admitted, not wanting her to feel bad for something she didn’t do.
She laid her head on my shoulder. I hated hospitals, and I was scared to death of what the doctors were going to come back and say about my leg, but it was nice to have someone with me for once.
It seemed to take forever, but the doctor finally came into the room. My heart skipped around in my chest as I waited for the news. His face was perfectly blank, and it was impossible to get a read on him.
“You, Ms. James, are a lucky girl. You have a concussion, and a bad contusion on your shoulder, but you only have a bruised bone on your leg. You’ll need to be on crutches for two weeks, but I expect you to be back to normal after that.”
My relief was palpable, and the doctor’s gaze warmed as he looked at me. “I know you’ve been through a lot these last few years after I looked through your records, Everly. But this particular hard thing will be over before you know it.”
I nodded, unable to speak, because I didn’t want to cry anymore. Lane was doing enough crying for both of us.
“Do you have anyone who can stay with you tonight and make sure to wake you up every couple of hours to make sure you’re all right?” the doctor asked.
“I will,” came Jackson’s voice from the doorway, causing all of us to jump from the unexpectedness of it.
Lane immediately jumped to the rescue. “She can stay with me.”
“You have a roommate and a twin bed, you can’t fit someone else. It’s just me in my place, and I have a queen size bed and couch,” Jackson argued calmly, as if it didn’t matter one way or another to him what happened and he was just stating facts.
The doctor looked between Lane and Jackson awkwardly. “Well, I’ll just let you decide, dear,” he finally said to me, patting my good knee before he walked towards the doorway. “The nurse will be in soon with your papers, and then you can go. Good luck, Ms. James.”
I was tempted to call for him to come back with the way Lane and Jackson were eyeing one another.
“She’s not going to get better sleeping on the floor of your dorm,” Jackson snarled at Lane.
Lane looked affronted. “I would give her my bed!”
“I’ll go with Jackson,” I said tiredly, wanting a bed desperately. Lane’s roommate wasn’t the friendliest, although she was no Melanie, and I didn’t want Lane to have any more problems with her because of my presence.
Lane looked shocked. “Can I talk to you…privately?” she asked when Jackson showed no hint of leaving.
The nurse came in just then, preventing any conversations I was too tired to deal with. Five minutes later, and I was on my way…Jackson and Lane bickering the whole way to Jackson’s enormous truck.
“It’s okay guys, I just need to sleep,” I finally told them when they showed no signs of stopping.
Lane huffed. “I’m going to ask her all about what happens tonight, buddy. So you better play nice,” she snarled at Jackson.
Jackson rolled his eyes like she was being ridiculous. Time must have taken the edge off of his memories as well.
Moments later, I was in the passenger seat of Jackson’s truck, a place I’d never imagined myself sitting again.
“Thanks for this,” I told him nervously.
He huffed like I’d just said something ridiculous.
We didn’t say anything else the entire drive back to his place.
The truck pulled into a townhome community about a mile beyond campus. It was brand new, judging by the fact that half of it was still under construction.
“This is nice,” I commented lamely.
He just nodded. We pulled into the garage, and my brain sparked to life.
“Does Caiden live here too?” I panicked just thinking about him being nearby. There was no way that I could sleep with him here. For some reason, my fear of him had been growing, despite the fact that we hadn’t spoken since that first day in the hallway. It was like the less I talked to him, the more of the bogeyman he became.
It was just another thing I should probably get therapy about.
I opened the door, prepared to jump out despite the fact that I would have to somehow get home with a concussion and crutches. I was prepared to do it if it meant getting away though. My concussion must be pretty bad for me to have even agreed to come here in the first place.
As soon as I stepped a foot out of the truck, a wave of dizziness hit me.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jackson snarled as I heard his driver-side door slam closed and his hurried footsteps approach.
“Baby, what are you doing?” he asked again, and this time, his voice was gentle and comforting. He embraced me, his strong arms enveloping me suddenly. Warm and safe. I’d forgotten what it felt like. I breathed in his scent, letting myself be weak because my head fucking hurt.
He pulled me closer to him, and I leaned against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It should calm and soothe me, but it did the opposite of that. Tears began to stream down my face, wetting his shirt. Deep gut-wrenching sobs spilled out of me as I let all the stress of this semester out, even though he’d been the cause of much of the stress. Jackson’s arms held me tight.
“Sweet angel, I’ve got you,” he bre
athed. “I’m right here.” He stroked my hair.
Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Because in what world am I at Jackson’s place, and he’s comforting me?
Caiden.
The fear hit me again, and I pushed away before realizing that Jackson’s truck was the only vehicle in the garage.
“Caiden wanted to live on campus,” Jackson said slowly. “And I just moved to this place last week. I live alone.”
I looked at him through watery eyes. He stared down at me with that same inscrutable expression that he’d had at the frat house. Like he’d figured something out.
The pain medication they filled me with started to take effect, and I slumped against him. He swooped me up in his arms, my crutches clattering to the garage floor. I kept my eyes closed as we walked, my eyes too tired to take a look at his place. We went up a set of stairs, and then moments later, I was on a big, soft bed.
Jackson began to inch up my dress, and I groaned. When I made no move to help him, he laid me back down onto his pillow, and he walked to his dresser, proceeding to take off his watch and set it on top. I watched as if through a fog as he pulled his Henley over his head.
I let out a soft gasp because the pain medicine seemed to have taken away all my inhibitions. His body was still the stuff of dreams. It was incredible, tall with broad muscled shoulders that narrowed into a tight chest, lean waist, and hips. My mouth watered just looking at him. There was a slight smirk on his lips that told me he knew I was salivating, but he thankfully said nothing. He slipped out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of grey briefs that showed everything.
And I mean everything.
Which made me think about his cock. I could tell it was semi-erect, and in my drugged-out state, all I could think about was falling to my knees and wrapping my lips around the perfect head in complete adoration of its beauty.
Again, I obviously hit my head hard.
Jackson adjusted himself unabashedly, and then pulled the covers away on the other side of the bed, proceeding to get in.
“What are you doing?” I all but shrieked as I dragged my gaze away from his dick and to his still smirking, freakishly gorgeous lips.
“I’m going to bed. You said you were tired.” His voice was amused, as if he was privy to a joke that I wasn’t a part of.
“You told Lane there was a couch.”
“There is a couch, but it’s not nearly as comfortable as my bed.”
I tried to sit up to get out of the bed and immediately sank back down as the room spun around me.
Jackson brought his face close to mine and trailed featherlight touches down the side of my face. He brushed a kiss against my forehead, and a traitorous tear fell down my cheek. Why was he being so sweet to me? I had no defense against this version of Jackson. This version made me forget how much of an asshole he was. I shivered from the feel of his mouth against mine and snuggled deeper into the bed that was a thousand times more comfortable than my dorm bed.
“Sleep, little angel. I’ll wake you every couple of hours, just as the doctor ordered.”
I was already fading into dreamland before he finished speaking, lost in his scent that surrounded me in his sheets and pillows.
Keeping his word, Jackson woke me up two hours later. His soft, soothing fingers caressed my face and hairline, bringing me out of the good dream I was having.
A dream about him of course. Because what else would I dream about?
My eyes flickered open, and I met his half-hooded gaze. His eyes looked more of a midnight blue in the dim lighting. The muted glow of the lamp he’d turned on made me feel like we were in our own little cocoon. His features were relaxed and open. I could almost see the boy that I’d grown up with in his face.
He held up an ice pack. “We should put this on your head for a little bit.” I moaned when he pressed it against me, sending shivers all over my skin.
“Everly, where are you?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Your place,” I responded groggily. The pain medication they’d given me made it feel like I was talking through a mouth full of cotton.
“Good girl,” he said as he reached over to the black nightstand next to him and grabbed the pill bottle they’d given us at the hospital. He emptied two pills out into his hand and handed them to me along with a small cup of water. “Take these.”
I sleepily gulped them down and then burrowed back into the bed. He put the glass back down on the table and then pulled the covers back over me after taking away the ice pack. The lamp was switched off after that, leaving the room bathed in the soft moonlight.
He laid back down and stared at me intently, studying every feature of my face.
I smiled back softly in response, the pain medicine obviously making me out of my head. He was so fucking gorgeous.
“Thanks, little angel,” he said, amusement threaded throughout his gravelly, sleep-laden voice.
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Obviously.
“I kind of figured that.”
Fuck.
Jackson suddenly planted a soft kiss against my lips. He cradled my face gently, as if I was made of glass, and I returned the kiss as he slid his perfect lips against mine.
His assault on my mouth was slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t increase the pressure or try to take it further. It was tortuous.
And perfect.
Just like him.
I could imagine us doing this for the rest of our lives right in this moment. It was dangerous territory for my already destroyed heart. He stroked my bottom lip with his tongue, and I slid my fingers into his hairline, increasing the pressure as I begged him for more. Evidently, that was all the permission he needed, because he began to take my mouth greedily, his mouth threatening to swallow me whole. His tongue swept past my teeth and against my tongue in long unhurried swipes.
A moan left me, unbidden. He tasted so good. It was like his taste was manufactured by the gods to be exactly what tasted best to me, exactly what I needed. I wanted his body on top of me, coating every surface with his warm skin.
I tugged at his shoulders and attempted to bring him against my chest.
It didn’t work.
He was unmovable above me. I wound my legs between his in order to aid in my goal.
When Jackson pulled away, a stark cry flew out of my mouth.
“Why?” I asked desperately.
He moaned before his large hand slipped under my dress and began to trace the edge of my panties. My breath puffed out in tiny frantic bursts of excitement from the heat of his head at the base of my neck, his five o’clock shadow grating along the skin there. He nibbled a line from my chin to my mouth. Once he reached my mouth, I took his lips in a feverish kiss, never having opened my eyes. His tongue demanded entrance, and I eagerly opened for him. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than Jackson over me…on top of me…completing me.
He drank from the well of my mouth, biting into my bottom lip. His hand tugged at the top of my dress, pulling it down so he could cup one of my breasts. I arched, pressing the heavy flesh into his strong palm, relishing the tingles that spread through my chest. I tasted his minty breath as he moaned his pleasure into my mouth. He fondled my breast teasingly. Relief splashed against my senses when he brought the cup of my bra down and grazed his thumb over my aching tip.
“Yes,” spilled out of my throat, as if it was ripped directly from the heavens. My cry was guttural and raw. I just needed more, more, more. He swallowed my cry like he needed to breathe it, all lips, teeth, and tongue.
With his thumb and finger, he pulled and pinched the tight peak until the pain somehow became pleasure in my core. I gripped him hard, pulling him to me, finally scratching my nails down the skin on his back like I’d daydreamed about doing earlier. He slid my bra all the way down just then, exposing my chest fully so that he could grope both breasts greedily, tugging and sucking at each tip, driving me insane with lust.
“So fucking perfect,” he purred.
Sparks flew as the wet heat of his tongue sent ribbons of pleasure down to the ache between my legs. Heat infused my stomach, and I pressed against his erection, relishing the heavy growl that left his lips.
I didn’t know how it was possible with how much pain medicine I was on, but it felt like I could come just by the attention he was currently giving my breasts. I scooted closer to him so that my center was directly against his raging hard on. He slid his hands along my ass and gripped me firmly, moving himself against my clit, sending sparks all over my body.
He slipped one hand into my underwear and plunged two fingers into me.
I cried out, ecstasy invading every facet of my being. His long fingers pressed high and deep, sending waves of pleasure rippling through me as he hit just the perfect spot. He pumped his fingers in and out of me, driving me wild. He circled just the outside of my clit, never going to the place I wanted him most.
While he moved in and out of me, he moved his other hand up to hold my neck possessively, and when he did so, his thumb passed over a sensitive part of my head where I’d hit it.
I gasped as pain flooded me, drowning my lust like a bucket of ice water.
“Shit! Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
Jackson scrambled out of bed and stalked to the other side of the room, pulling at his hair. “I can’t control myself around you,” he growled. “We can’t do that while you’re recovering from a fucking concussion.” He gestured to my body like it should be obvious. “We’re not touching if I get back in that bed.”
I didn’t mention that it wasn’t my idea for me to be here or in his bed in the first place.
And I definitely wasn’t the one to kiss him.
He walked towards me cautiously and slid into bed like he was scared I was going to jump him.
As he laid down, he took a deep breath. His chest went up and down, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the hills and valleys of his perfectly sculpted frame. He somehow looked even more defined than he’d been the last time I’d seen him. I wanted to rub my hands all over that perfect skin again, just to see how he would respond. He stared up at the ceiling, contemplative and brooding.
