by Jaci Burton
“Thanks. I hadn’t intended to. It just kind of . . . fell out.”
He smiled. “Well, feel free to let any parts of you fall out that feel natural to you.”
She arched a brow. “You mean you’d like me to get naked.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant, but if you’re suggesting it I won’t object.”
She laughed. “Whatever. I’d like a beer, though.” She stood and grabbed a towel to dry herself. “You want one?”
“Sure.”
After she was certain she wasn’t dripping wet anymore, she went inside and made a pit stop to the downstairs bathroom, then came out and headed to the refrigerator, surprised to find Jackson in the kitchen, slicing a peach.
“I said I was going to grab the beers.”
“I got hungry,” he said. He took a piece and held out his hand.
She started to take the slice from his hand, but he pulled it back. “Let me.”
She stared at him, at the hunger in his eyes that had nothing to do with peaches. Yes, she’d like to let him do all kinds of things. She opened her mouth and he slid the peach slice between her lips.
The fruit was juicy and some of it ran down her chin. She tilted her head back and Jackson leaned in to lick her neck.
She gasped, chewed and swallowed, then tried to breathe as his tongue mapped a trail from her neck to her jaw. Then he put a slice of peach between his teeth and brought his lips near hers.
She bit half of the peach, sucking it into her mouth while he took the other half.
God, she wanted to kiss him. He didn’t draw back, just kept his gaze intently on her—on her mouth as she chewed and swallowed the peach.
She didn’t wait for him to lick the juice running down from her chin. She held his head between her hands and swept her tongue across his lips, tasting the juicy peach and softness of his lips along her tongue. Sweet. Juicy. Maddeningly hot. And when he wrapped an arm around her to draw her close and fit his mouth to hers, she trembled.
He hesitated. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Kiss me.”
The kiss was fire, causing her body to erupt in an explosion of heat and sensation, every nerve ending going haywire in reaction to the taste of him, the feel of his hands wandering over her skin. She licked her tongue over his, his answering groan making her weak with desire.
His fingers mapped a trail down her back, settling just above the top edge of her bikini, teasing her butt.
If they didn’t get naked soon, she might not survive.
She pulled her lips from his. “Sex, Jackson. Now.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I like a demanding woman.”
He took her hand and they left the kitchen, taking the stairs. They made it halfway up the stairs to the landing when Jackson pushed her against the wall, his mouth devouring hers. Hot flames of desire lit inside her and she couldn’t control her breathing any longer. The kiss went on and on until she felt drugged with pure sensual joy.
She hadn’t realized she’d been missing this—having a man touch her and kiss her—until Jackson had laid his mouth and his hands on her. She’d been so preoccupied with work lately that she hadn’t taken the time to enjoy these pure carnal pleasures.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again, because having Jackson’s hands roaming over her feverishly turned-on skin was everything.
He untied the top of her bikini and it fell forward, baring her breasts. He cupped one breast, using his thumb to slide back and forth over her nipple.
She gasped, the sensation unbearably delicious. And when he leaned over to take a nipple into his mouth and sucked, her legs nearly buckled. Watching him play with and lick her breasts and nipples while she leaned against the wall of the stair landing seemed so incongruous and ridiculous, yet utterly hot at the same time. Her body was on fire and alive like never before.
And then he dropped to his knees and dragged her bikini bottom down to her ankles. He lifted his gaze to hers.
“Step out of these.”
She did, but then realized she was exposed in more ways than one.
“Jackson.”
“Yeah.”
“What if your brothers come home?”
“They won’t. And I can hear the garage door come up, so relax.”
She was going to try, but she wasn’t sure she could. What if—
“Ohhh.”
He’d slipped his hand between her legs and began to rub against her sex, and all thoughts of where she was vanished. Instead, she was caught mid-breath in a web of utter pleasure. She felt like she might explode.
Surely he couldn’t make her come that fast. But she was already close, her body humming in tune to the expertise of his seeking fingers. He teased and stroked her with his fingers, and suddenly it was his mouth there, covering her clit with his lips. She let out a cry of delight as his warm lips sucked on her most sensitive areas.
“Ohhhh,” she said again, realizing that unintelligible mumbling was all she could manage. She didn’t even have to direct him where to go because she was already there. She moaned, rocked against his mouth and let go, crying out with her orgasm.
She rode his face with wild abandon, not even caring if the house came down around her at the moment, because this climax was so damn good.
“Mmmm,” he replied against her sex, the low hum of his voice making her come harder. He stayed right there with her until she stopped shaking. And then he stood and smiled at her.
She shuddered out a smile while simultaneously catching her breath.
“Well, that was good,” she said.
She thought now they’d continue up to the bedroom.
“Wait right here,” he said.
Apparently they weren’t going to the bedroom, because as she rested against the wall Jackson disappeared upstairs for what seemed like half a second, but what did she know of time, because she was in a sex-soaked daze. When he came back he dropped his board shorts. Becks barely had a fraction of a second to appreciate the beauty of his naked body before he slid on a condom, then hoisted her into his arms and pushed her against the wall again, this time entering her with a slow, easy thrust.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Just like this.”
She dug her nails into his shoulders, feeling him swelling inside her.
“Oh, yeah is right,” she said, meeting his gaze as he partially pulled out, then slid back into her. “Jackson.”
The eye contact was intense, the way he looked at her as he drove deep making her convulse with pleasure.
She might die, right here on the landing, and she wouldn’t care because this felt amazing. Jackson felt amazing, especially when he moved in close and rubbed against her, hitting all her pleasure spots and dragging her ever closer to another climax.
She ran her fingertips over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the flex in his muscles as he held her as if she weighed nothing, which wasn’t true at all. But he was balancing her with one hand while increasing his pace as he moved within her, and she lost her mind, especially when he slammed his hand against the wall.
“Fuck,” he said, grinding against her. “You feel so damn good, Becks.”
His skin was slick with sweat as she swept her hands across his back. She knew what it was costing him to hold her, but she was so close and all she could think about now was getting there again and taking him with her. “Harder.”
“Hell yeah,” he said, driving into her faster and deeper, spurring her on ever closer to the edge.
She was there. Right there, tipping on the edge of the best damn thing ever.
“Come with me,” she said, digging her nails into his biceps.
“Dammit, Becks. Goddammit.”
He was breathing hard, and pushing both of them even harder. But she wanted him to go with her. So when he gripped he
r butt in a tight hold and tilted her pelvis, she lost it, shuddering as she came.
And he did go with her, letting out a loud groan as he slammed her so hard against the wall she knew she’d have bruises tomorrow. Glorious, sex-induced bruises. And she didn’t care because her orgasm lasted all the way through Jackson’s.
He finally let her legs slide to the floor, but she wasn’t sure she was steady enough to stand. He wrapped his arm around her to hold on to her while she gained feeling in her tingling legs.
Frankly, she wasn’t sure how he was still standing. She felt his arms shaking.
“Hell of a workout, huh?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I’ll be able to skip arms at the gym tomorrow.”
She laughed.
They headed upstairs and when they got to the top, he paused and turned to her.
“Your room or mine?”
She shrugged. “Mine’s fine.”
They went into her room and she closed and locked the door. She followed Jackson into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower.
She turned to Jackson. “How about a quick rinse-off?”
“Since you made me sweaty, I’m all for it.”
He stepped in with her and she backed into the spray, swiping her hair back. The warm water felt good. What felt even better was having Jackson pour soap in his hands to scrub her back.
Just having his hands on her felt good. And when she rinsed, she turned him around and returned the favor.
She washed and rinsed her hair and they got out of the shower. She handed Jackson a towel and got one so she could dry herself off.
“This would be way more fun if you let me dry all your parts,” he said.
“I’m more interested in getting you into bed so I can check out your naked body.”
His brows popped up. “I’m game for that.”
She climbed onto her bed and used the heels of her feet to push back toward the head of the bed. Jackson followed, sliding alongside her. She rolled to her side and propped her head in her hand.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said.
“What’s that?” His fingers whispered a trail between her breasts.
“You. Me. Naked and alone together.”
“Really. Fantasized about it and everything?”
“Naturally. Didn’t you?”
“Yeah. And I’ve been wanting to get a look at your ink.”
She rolled over onto her back and tucked one arm behind her head. “Look away.”
Jackson had thought about this moment for a while now, ever since he’d gotten his first good look at Becks. And though she wore a lot of tank tops and shorts and he’d gotten to see some of her tattoos, it wasn’t like he’d had the opportunity to inspect them up close like he was doing now.
Her artwork was amazing. He started with her left arm, running his fingers over the purple octopus and blue dolphin to the gray humpback whale and amazing sea turtle. And laced throughout each tattoo were waves and plankton and coral and smaller fish, as if he were actually getting a glimpse into the ocean.
“Why the sea creatures?”
“I had this fantasy of living under the sea when I was a kid. That Poseidon would come rescue me and take me to live with him.”
Jackson searched her arm. On her outer shoulder he found a man with white hair and a flowing beard, ocean waves rising around his legs. He held a large trident.
“Poseidon, I presume?”
She nodded.
“Does he protect you?”
“It’s been working so far.”
“Glad to hear it.” He climbed over her to inspect her other side, where vines crawled around lines and paragraphs of words.
“And all this?”
“Poetry, one-liners of things I’ve found and liked over the years.”
“And who have you liked?”
“Oh. The list is endless. Maya Angelou, E. E. Cummings, Langston Hughes, Dylan Thomas, Robert Frost, Keats, Andrea Gibson, Margaret Atwood. A few things I wrote.”
She wrote poetry? “Yeah? Which ones are yours?”
She lifted her arm and searched the writings. “That one.”
He read the paragraph. Dark lines intertwined by bleeding vines. The line read:
My pain has made me powerful. I will never be pushed away again.
He looked up at her. “Wow. That’s intense. But why do I feel there’s more to this?”
She shrugged. “I have a journal where I write some poetry now and again.”
“So this is a line from one of your poems.”
“Yes.”
“Which means there’s more to this one, right?”
“Yes.”
He sensed her wariness, as if she wasn’t sure she could trust her innermost thoughts to him. He knew exactly how she felt, but he was still curious to see more. “Can I see it?”
She gave him a dubious look. “You like poetry.”
“I like you.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, then got up and went to her dresser. She pulled out a notebook and clutched it close to her chest, as if it held secrets she didn’t want to divulge.
“You don’t have to share it with me if it makes you uncomfortable, Becks. But I’d love to read some of your poetry.”
She sat on the bed, flipped some pages and handed it to him.
“It’s from this one.”
He sat up and read the poem.
Don’t push me away.
I’ve been to dark places, where the cold is so hot the devil won’t tread there.
I’ve bled soul-tearing heartache that makes strong men weep.
My fury is relentless, my pain as deep as the core of the universe.
I’ve lived at the bottom and risen, a tower of strength and resolve.
My pain has made me powerful. I will never be pushed away again.
Jackson read the lines over and over again, breathing in the hurt in her words and wondering what had caused it. He finally lifted his gaze to find her studying him.
“These words . . . they’re strong. They show how formidable you are, Becks.”
She frowned. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not. The words are raw. Honest. Your writing is good, Becks. Really good.”
He saw the stain of pink blush across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
He handed the journal back to her and she slipped it on top of her dresser, then climbed back in bed.
“So you were in a dark place when you wrote it.”
She shrugged. “Not really. Sometimes I can’t help but relive dark times, go back to the place of those memories. Journaling helps remind me that I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been.”
“See? That’s why I don’t think about the past. It only drags you down.”
She crossed her legs over each other, and he liked that she was so comfortable about being naked with him. Plus, she was beautiful and he could look at her body for a long damn time.
“I disagree. It’s okay to go back, to remind yourself of where you came from.”
He drew his finger over the broken heart above her left breast. “Like this? To feel that pain again? Why?”
“To retrace your steps. To figure out how you got from there to here. What you did right, and what you did wrong.”
“Oh, come on, Becks. Who the fuck wants a hard look backward at all the bullshit they had to go through to get to now?”
“Yes, there were bad times. But there was good, too. We had to climb through mountains of pain, but if it was all awful neither one of us could have survived it. I also take the time to remember the people I met along the way. The ones who helped me get here.” She smoothed her hand along his thigh. “Like you.”
He felt a twinge in his gut
. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you serious? Don’t you remember when . . .” She stopped, let go of his leg. “You really don’t remember. Any of that time.”
He never wanted to. Not after . . . “I remember the night of the fire, being at the beach house with Rafe and Kal. Everything from that night is vivid to me.”
She didn’t ask. He appreciated that. But even though she didn’t, the memories of that night came rushing back. He didn’t want to remember it. None of it. Not that night, none of the shit before that.
He pushed it back, far back until the rising panic went away. And instead, he pulled Becks down on her back. “I like living in the now. Where I have a beautiful woman lying next to me.”
She swept her fingers over his forehead. Her fingers were cool, offering relief to the mental torture of his past twisting around in his mind.
“Those memories still linger, Jackson. Anytime you want to talk about them, I’m happy to listen.”
“I think we talked enough. There are other things I want to do with my mouth now.”
He loomed over her, watching her smile light up her eyes. “Really. What kinds of things?”
“Let’s start here.” He kissed her, a light brush of his lips over hers. He wanted more, deeper, to get lost in the taste of her so he could forget the memories that had tried to surface, but this wasn’t about him. It was about playing with Becks.
So he pulled back and trailed light kisses along her jaw before sliding down to her neck.
“Or maybe here.” He continued on, using both his lips and tongue to map the skin of her throat and along her collarbone, before dipping into the valley of her breasts.
The sounds she made let him know she was enjoying the direction he was going. He liked it, too. Her skin was petal soft under his lips, she smelled like vanilla soap and the sounds she made caused his dick to get hard. And when he mapped his way over her belly, he felt her abdominal muscles ripple.
He teased her right hip with his teeth and she jumped. He lifted his head. “Ticklish here?”
She gave him a pointed stare. “Yes. Are you?”
He laughed. “No.”
She wriggled out from under him and pushed him onto his back. “Let’s find out.”
