True For You (Boys of the South)

by Valentine, Marquita

  “Swimming lessons?” I remind him, and myself. I could stand here all day and let him touch me.

  “Give me a minute.” He steps back and turns around. I watch his shoulders rise and fall. His back is broad and defined with muscles, just like his arms. “Do you know how to float?”

  Instead of answering him, I lay back and let my legs rise. The cool air washes over my skin and makes my nipples hard. Goosebumps appear, and I shiver.

  He turns and mutters a curse. “Come here.”

  Grinning, I look up at the sky and say, “Can’t. I’m too busy floating.”

  Suddenly, his hands are on me and he’s lifting me up. I wrap my arms and legs around him. Warm water is replaced by cool air, and then he’s laying me down on a pile of towels.

  He looms over me, his broad shoulders blocking the sun. “You’re a tease, Bliss Morgan.”

  It thrills me to no end for him to call me that. “Am not,” I protest, then I arch my back and stretch my arms over my head, twisting my hands together. Immediately, one of his hands clamps over my wrists.

  “Know what happens to teases?”

  “Why don’t you show me?” I peer at him through my lashes, something I noticed other girls do when they were flirting.

  His eyes darken. Must be working, I think, right before his mouth comes crashing down on mine.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jackson

  I lift my head, dizzy from kissing her.

  With my free hand, I tug at the ties on her bathing suit, and she lifts her hips. Down her legs it goes, and I groan at the sight of her nude body.

  She spreads her thighs wide, giving me a view of pink, wet flesh. “Are you going to kiss me down there again?”

  “Down where?” I take my finger and run it down the center of her stomach, stopping right above her dark curls. “Here?”

  “Lower,” she gasps.

  “You want me to lick that pretty little pussy of yours?” I murmur. “The last time I did that, you purred for me.” I let my finger edge closer, and her hips lift. “Ah, ah. Do you want me to or not?”

  “Yes.”

  Smiling wickedly, I lower my mouth, using my fingers to spread her apart. The first swipe of my tongue has her crying out my name. The second has her hips jerking against me. I’m so hard right now that I’m ready to tear off my board shorts and shove my dick inside of her.

  I let go of her wrists, and her hands get all tangled up in my hair. She writhes under me, gasping my name and moaning. I peer up at her, watching as the sun shines on her body. Her nipples are tight, begging for my attention.

  Reaching up, I pinch one, and then the other. Bliss screams. Then her hands are on my shoulders, urging me to her. She wraps her legs around my waist, her tongue pushing inside my mouth. Somehow, she manages to shove my shorts down, and my cock brushes against her.

  She moans, her hands going to my dick and putting it right where I want it to be. Well, almost.

  “In me… I want you in me,” she gasps in my ear.

  “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill… during the tour.” Her head falls back. “Health benefits.”

  Closing my eyes, I exhale. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Slowly, I thrust my hips forward, sinking inside of her. Bare walls grip me, and I have to clench my jaw, locking my muscles to make them obey me and not my dick. Another inch and I’m past speaking, but then she makes a little noise, not of pleasure but of pain.

  “Want me to stop?” I pant, looking into her dark eyes. They’re shiny, but she’s not crying. Please say no, baby. “I can go slower.”

  “Keep going.” She tilts her hips, and I slide in a little deeper. Her hands stroke my back, grab my ass, and run up the back of my thighs. It’s like she’s everywhere. She touches the base of my dick and squeezes.

  “Holy fu—”

  “You feel so good,” she moans. “So hard and big… huge inside of me. Will you fit the rest of the way?”

  This girl is always taking what should be my lines and making them her own. I fucking love it.

  “We’ll fit.”

  A silky leg glides up the back of my calf. She licks me behind my ear. “Then what are you waiting for, Jackson Morgan.”

  Next thing I know, I’m buried to the hilt inside of her, pounding into her for all I’m worth, and she’s whispering in my ear, “More. Yes. Oh God, that feels so good. Please… please more.”

  I move my hips harder, faster, like I’m a machine made to pleasure her. This wasn’t how I wanted her first time to be… I wanted more for her. I wanted it to be perfect, to be sweet and slow and—

  “More,” she moans.

  Obviously, it’s not about me, and she wants more. So, I do what any Southern boy would do for his lady, and give her more.

  Hell, I give her everything.

  When she cries out my name again, I let myself go.

  ***

  I have no idea how long we’ve been lying here, on top of a pile of towels and under a makeshift blanket. I can’t stop touching her, can’t stop running my hands over her body and kissing her softly. Reverently.

  “Jackson,” she sighs.

  “Bliss Morgan,” I say, eliciting a laugh. I kiss her lips one last time, right before her eyes flutter close. She snuggles into me, laying her head on my chest.

  Strangely enough, I’ve never had times like this after sex. Honestly, I spent most of the time seducing, banging, and then getting the hell back on the road. Even when I was with a girl I cared about, I never actually had to time to savor the after.

  My schedule didn’t allow it. Actually, I didn’t allow it, not even with—I close my eyes. I’ll be damned if I let anyone, even in the form of memories, to intrude on this.

  But as sweet as this is, I can’t get it out of my head that I’ve done the wrong thing. That I’ve not only messed up again by making love to Bliss, but that the only out either one of us had is gone.

  I don’t want to leave her. I have no intentions of leaving her, but I’m scared shitless that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  Her hand brushes my thigh. Then her fingers tiptoe to rest right beside my dick. She runs a finger down the length of it.

  “Bliss,” I murmur as I rise over her. “We can’t do this again, because…” Hurt fills her eyes as she looks up at me. There’s no way I’ll finish that sentence with what I was planning on saying. “It’s too soon, and you’ll be sore.”

  “Oh.” The hurt leaves, but her bottom lip sticks out a little. “I really love orgasms.”

  I blink at her. “Excuse me?”

  She smiles, full lips curving. “I was practicing my dirty talking with you.”

  Tilting my head to one side, I lick my lips. “Do you love orgasms as much as hot snaps?”

  “Better than a truckload of them.”

  Dipping my head, I use my tongue to trace a circle around her nipple, watching in satisfaction as it hardens. My entire body hardens along with it. “My tongue won’t hurt you.” I kiss my way down her body, and she arches against me. “I can lick and suck on that little clit of yours, and it won’t hurt at all.” I part her curls with my thumbs and blow gently on her pink flesh.

  “When you’re done, I want to lick and suck on you,” she pants. “I want to do everything.”

  Giving her my most wicked grin, I lower my mouth, but not before promising, “We will, baby doll. I’ll teach you everything.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bliss

  I’m lying on the sofa, with my head in Jackson’s lap. He runs his hands through my hair, humming a song I’ve never heard before.

  My eyes are heavy, and my stomach is full. So is my head. I can’t stop thinking about him and our situation, or this afternoon.

  We spent the rest of the day outside, playing in the pool, giving each other kisses and orgasms. I had no idea how many different ways we could, or where I could put my mouth and lick him… my che
eks heat.

  And dear God, the orgasms, he gives me. Based on that alone, I can understand why women chased him.

  “Bliss,” he murmurs.

  “Hmmm?” is all I can manage to say, because I’m afraid I’ll blurt out more than what I can handle.

  “Ready for bed?”

  “I don’t want to move.”

  He strokes the side of my face. “It’s almost midnight. Way past your bedtime.”

  “I don’t have a bedtime.”

  “No sleep is only for the wicked, and since you’re the sweetest girl I know…”

  I sit up, brushing my hair out of my face. “I can be wicked.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  He touches my face again, lingering by corner of my mouth. “Maybe I like you sweet.”

  “You don’t like sweet. I remember all the girls you took back to your hotel room and your bus. This afternoon I wasn’t sweet at all, not when you had me—”

  “About that—”

  “You like wicked, naughty, and experienced. I can be like those other girls, but you’ll have to keep helping me with the experienced part.” I straddle his lap, but before I can touch him, he grabs my wrists. “What?”

  His blue eyes burn bright. “I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.”

  “I’m your wife.” I lower my mouth to his, but at the last second he turns his head and I kiss his cheek.

  “Not like this.”

  My heart stutters in my chest, and cold rejection washes over me. “’Kay.”

  His breath is hot against my skin. “I’m not saying no to you, just the location. It’s bad enough that your first time was by the pool, for God’s sake, and then this afternoon.”

  My stomach drops. “What was wrong with this afternoon?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” He groans, his head falling back for a minute. “You deserved a soft bed, roses on the mattress, and time. Lots and lots of time for me to kiss you everywhere, to stroke your body until you couldn’t take anymore and were begging me to make love to you. That’s what should have happened and it didn’t.”

  My breath begins to quicken. “Why? I’m no better than anyone else. And for the record, I loved what happened.”

  “So did I.” He leans back, gazing into my eyes. “It’s not about better or worse. It’s about expectations. Those groupies—they expected one thing out of me, and nothing else. It wasn’t romance or commitment—well, maybe a couple of them did. All they wanted was to be fucked by a celebrity.”

  “As for you,” he adds, in that seductive voice of his. “I want you to forget about everything you saw or thought you saw happening with me and those females. I want your expectations to be so much more, and I’ll meet them. I swear it to you. Can you do that for me?”

  “Only if you can.”

  He cups the side of my face and says, “I don’t remember any woman before you.”

  My heart almost jumps out of my chest. “You mean it?” I want to slap my hand over my mouth for asking such a thing.

  As if he’s going to tell the truth and say, “Well, Bliss, there was this one girl in Wichita who could put her feet behind her ears.” Or something like that. Maybe he’ll laugh it off.

  My chest tightens as I wait for answer. Then I give up waiting. “Never mind. That was a stup—”

  “Let me show you.”

  He pushes off the couch and stands, his strong arms taking me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and his hard length hits me in just the right spot. Gasping, I let my head fall back. His tongue flicks at my throat.

  With every step, our bodies bump together. At one point, he groans, then I feel the wall against my back, and his lips are on mine.

  Oh God, can he kiss. I have no idea if what I’m doing is right. So I do what I’ve done each time we’ve kissed—I follow his lead. But when his tongue touches mine, I gasp and forget all about following, or if I’m doing this right.

  I simply kiss him. I memorize his mouth, the texture and shape. I learn what makes him growl low in his throat and what makes him kiss me back harder.

  He breaks our kiss. “We have to get to the bedroom.”

  “Okay,” I agree and claim his lips once more. His fingers dig into my thighs and I whimper, not in fear… but in want. In excitement.

  We start moving again and before I know it, he’s laying me down on his bed. I hold up my arms. “Come to bed with me.”

  Tenderly, he removes my glasses and kisses my forehead. I frown, letting my arms fall back to the bed. Then he kisses each of my cheeks, lightly. Almost like he’s saying good night.

  “Jackson. Come to bed with me.” This time it’s not a request, but a demand.

  He steps away, and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “In a minute. I like looking at you.”

  “I like looking at you, too.” I tug at the hem of his shirt. “I’d like it better if you didn’t have clothes on while I looked at you.”

  He gives me a familiar grin—wicked and smug. “I will if you will.”

  I rise, kneeling in the middle of the bed, and take off all my clothes. “Done.”

  His hands go to the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head in that way only men seem to do. Then he unfastens his jeans, agonizingly slow. By the time he gets to the last button, I’m ready to tackle him, and when he places a knee on the bed, I do.

  “Wild child,” he laughs, pulling me on top of him.

  I sit up, and then lean forward, kissing him. “I think I love you.”

  He brushes back my hair. “Thinking will get you into all sorts of trouble.”

  It’s not the response I hoped for, but maybe he’ll forget about my half-teasing confession.

  “Teach me a new position.”

  Moving behind me, he picks me up and sets me in his lap, his erection hot and hard against my bottom. “Reverse cowgirl can be fun.”

  “What do I do?”

  “First, I have to make sure you’re real wet, baby.” He sinks one finger inside of me, from behind. I’m sore, but not enough to stop me from being with him again. “Not wet enough.” He adds another, and I slowly start lifting my hips. “That’s it. Ride my fingers before you ride my cock.”

  His free hand comes around me, grabbing mine, and I watch in complete fascination as he puts it between my legs. “Touch yourself.”

  “Like this?” I put my fingers right where I’m throbbing.

  “Oh yeah. Play with that swollen clit, Bliss.”

  My head falls back against his shoulder as I rub myself. His hand goes to my breasts, plucking at each nipple and making them hard.

  Just as I’m about to come, he pulls his fingers out of me. “No! Don’t do that… wait.” He shoves the head of his erection in me. “Oh God.” I try to sink down, but he grabs my waist and refuses to let me go further.

  “Just like this, beautiful girl.” The hair on his legs rubs against the back of my thighs and my butt. He feels so different from me, so hard and overwhelming.

  “More. I want—”

  He bites my shoulder, and I cry out in pleasure and pain. “Not this time. This time I’m in charge.”

  I whimper. “Okay.”

  “How about another inch, since you’re being so agreeable.”

  “Please,” I moan, and he slides a bit deeper.

  “Oh sweetheart, you feel so damn good,” he rasps, like he’s about to come apart like me. “So damn tight. This hot little body of yours is mine, all mine.”

  “Yours is mine too.”

  He slides in even deeper. “Say that again.”

  “You’re mine.”

  Another thrust and he’s halfway inside. “Louder.”

  “Mine, mine, mine,” I shout.

  He pushes me down on the bed, my face landing on a pillow. The movement sends him deeper than ever. I can’t move; he has me pinned to the bed.

  Grabbing my waist, he pounds into me, hard and out of control. I keep touching myself, like he asked,
building closer to my orgasm again.

  This, whatever is happening right now, isn’t making love… it isn’t sex... it’s desperation. We’re desperate for each other. This is months of waiting, of longing, and of wanting each other.

  His hips twist, and my eyes widen. “Do that again.”

  “No.”

  Belatedly remembering his bite, I quickly add, “Please, baby.”

  He curses and does it again and again, until I come, sobbing his name. He joins me seconds later, and then collapses on top of me.

  He eases up on his elbows, pulling out of me, and I turn over to face him.

  “Were you touching yourself the entire time?” he asks.

  Blushing, I nod. “You told me to do it.”

  “I’m not complaining, just making sure you were taken care of.”

  “You take very good care of me.” I reach up, tracing his bottom lip. “I don’t want to leave this place, ever. This is my home. This is our home. No matter where we go, we should always come back here.”

  A questioning look enters his eyes. “Why would you have to leave?”

  “When the honeymoon’s over, I assume we have to go,” I frown a little, “somewhere else.” Where that would be, I have no idea. I assume Jackson doesn’t still live with his parents in Nashville.

  He raises a brow. “Who said it has to be over?”

  “Eventually, you’ll have to face the music, Jackson.” I exhale. “You can’t hide away here with me, forever, no matter how much I’d love it. You still have contracts, recordings, interviews, and other stuff.”

  Rolling to his side, he dislodges my fingers and props his head up with one of his hands. He draws something on my stomach, and I shiver. “I’m not hiding, really. I just wanted some time.”

  “To get over Violet?”

  He gives me this look, but I don’t care. He wants a non-quiet Bliss, then this is what he gets. “To get over a lot of things.”

  “Like what?”

  “My life for the past year and a half.” Blowing out a breath, he rolls all the way to his back. I scoot closer to him, placing my chin on his chest. “Earlier today, when you asked me about my tattoo? I…” His words trail away, and I’m not sure if he’ll actually tell me anything.