“This isn’t your fault either, J. You were trying to help me. You stayed when everyone ran out. If not for you, I might’ve died that night. Who fucking knows?”
“How can you forgive me?”
I cut her off with a kiss.
“I’m tired of talking about it for one night. Let’s find something else to do.” I press our lips together, letting my tongue push through her lips. She groans against my invasion.
I make sure to put the brakes on my chair, directly beside my bed, before moving my hands underneath the thick sweater she’s still wearing from earlier.
“Your skin’s so smooth,” I murmur against her lips.
She pulls back and lifts the sweater over her head, tossing it to the floor. My mouth waters at the sight of her chocolate-tipped breasts as she discards her bra.
“Oooh, you feel so good.” She sighs as I wrap my mouth around one of those breasts. I swear they taste better than anything I ate at Thanksgiving dinner.
I play with the other nipple between my fingers, pinching it and causing Jackie to tremble. When I move to her jeans, she shifts back, helping me to get them undone.
She gasps as soon as my fingers make contact with her core.
“You’re already wet.”
Biting her bottom lip, she nods. I capture her lips again and let my fingers invade her pussy.
“Let me see you come on my lap, J,” I murmur against her lips, using the nickname I did way back when we were young.
“M-Mark.” Her voice trembles and her hands tighten around my shoulders.
“Hold onto the bed,” I instruct, pushing her arms behind her, but see worry in her eyes. “I won’t let you fall.”
She nods, placing her hands on the bed, which forces her legs to spread wider on my lap.
With one hand, I massage and pinch her nipples while my other plunders her below. She’s squirming on my lap soon after, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, and it only takes another minute before I pinch her nipple and her clit at the same time that she comes undone.
When she comes back to me, there are stars in her eyes. She licks her bottom lip before cupping my face and kissing the shit out of me. If it weren’t for the brakes on my chair, I’m sure we’d roll backwards.
“Anxious, much?” I joke, pulling back and laughing.
She doesn’t respond. Instead, she looks down at my lap and then back up at me, biting her lower lip. “Can you …”
I grin. “It takes some effort, but yeah, I can get it up.”
“Good.”
I chuckle as she moves from off my lap and onto the bed. I adjust and use my sliding board to transition from the chair to the bed.
Jackie straddles my lap once I’m seated upright and pulls my shirt over my head. We’re suddenly in a rush to undress one another. And yes, it takes some work, but eventually, she’s straddling me, completely naked.
“Tell me what to do,” she says, her voice full of need.
“Touch me,” I instruct while guiding her hand to my cock. “Physical touch is needed to help with my arousal.”
She nods. “How about this?” She pushes back and down, and before I know it, her mouth is covering the tip of my cock.
“Shit,” I grunt as the first sensations of arousal ripple through my abdomen. “You feel fucking amazing.” I place my hand in her hair, holding it as her mouth begins moving up and down. My cock springs to life much quicker than it has with any other woman. No, this isn’t my first sexual encounter since my accident. I’ve had many, and they’ve all been enjoyable, but this is different.
My own body knows this woman is different.
Fisting my hands in her hair, I warn, “Jackie, I want to come inside of you.”
She proves stubborn when, even after I pull on her hair a few times, she doesn’t move her mouth from my rod. Weakened by her tongue gliding across the tip of my cock, I give in and allow my body the release it desires. Jackie moans as I come in her mouth, and I swear it causes me to come even harder.
“Fuck,” I shout as the last squirts of my come force themselves out of my body. I pant as Jackie lifts her head, staring into my eyes.
Pressing forward, I wrap my hand around the back of her head, pulling her mouth to mine. I devour her lips, her mouth, her soul if I fucking could.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her lips. Why that declaration pours from my lips, I have no idea, but I know it to be true right down to the core of me. She’s always been mine, even though it’s taken this damn long to figure out.
With my free hand, I fumble for the top drawer of my nightstand, pulling out a condom. I release her lips long enough to tear the wrapper open with my teeth and place the condom over my cock.
Jacke scoots back, raising her pussy to just over the tip of me. Our gazes lock as she begins sinking onto me.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she murmurs, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“Happy fucking Thanksgiving.”
Chapter 13
“Wait, so you learned Spanish while in rehab?” I ask in shock.
Mark shrugs as we lay in his bed the next morning. My head rests on his chest with his arm around me. We’re both naked and cuddled up underneath his very comfortable down blanket.
“Yeah, why do you sound so shocked?”
“You were terrible at foreign languages in high school. And didn’t you have to like, I don’t know, rehab in rehab.”
He snorts. “Yeah, but one of my caretakers was from Mexico, and I guess she took pity on me or something because we ended up building something like a friendship. She started teaching me Spanish. And I was only terrible at foreign languages because I hated school. Shit was boring.”
I giggle. “You’ve got a point there,” I say, sitting up to sit with my legs crossed to look down at him. I trail my finger up and down the length of his chest and abdomen, admiring the muscles I feel there. “School was pretty boring.”
“You didn’t seem to mind.”
It’s my turn to snort. “It was one of the only times I could be out of my household. Growing up, there was always a heaviness in that house. Everything had to be a certain way, look a certain way. My father made sure we were picture perfect. It was overbearing. I was happy to get away by going to school. It doesn’t mean I took enjoyment in it, though. Not until you came along.”
He smiles and pulls my fingers to his lips, kissing them individually.
“Is that why you never became a doctor?”
I stiffen at the question. I don’t want to lie. “No. I hated what I did to you. I thought I was undeserving of being a doctor after what happened.”
I gasp, surprised by the force at which Mark pulls my body down, taking my face firmly into his hands. “Stop saying that shit,” he growls. “You saved me, long before that fucking fall, okay?”
“How can you say that?”
“Do you know the type of shit I was getting into before I met you?”
“Fighting?”
“That was the least of all my bullshit. For a short stint, I was even selling drugs.”
“What? Why?” I never knew that.
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Dumb teenage shit.”
“It wasn’t just that, Mark.”
“Yeah, nah, the truth is I was always searching for something more. To be something bigger. You know how rough it was for me growing up being Connor O’Brien’s little brother. Everyone saw me as his shadow. Even my own father.”
“You wanted to be just like him.”
“Yeah, because everyone expected me to be just like him. My dad started teaching me to fight at the same age he taught Connor. But he’d always say shit like, ‘C’mon, kid, when Connor was your age, he knew how to throw a fucking punch the right way.’ Or, ‘Connor was two years younger than you when he learned this shit.’”
I reach out and take his arm, squeezing it.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, J.”
“I don’t. I just think it’d be
hard to grow up with that kind of comparison.”
“It was fine, or so I thought, but then I got older and wanted to make a name for myself. Hence, why I started fighting at a local gym, but that wasn’t enough. They all knew my brother and compared our styles, just like my dad. So, I sought ways to make a name for myself.”
“Is that why you were doing all those fights after school and stuff?”
He nods. “But once you and I got together, I cut a lot of that shit out. Fighting was still in my blood, though. I don’t think I could ever give that up. Not then, especially.”
He turns to me, staring at me directly in the eye. “You saved me before that fall. And yeah, I fucking fell apart when I woke up in that hospital, and they told me I’d never walk again. But what was worse was that you weren’t there.”
Taking his hand in mine, I squeeze it. “I thought I’d be the last person you’d want to see in the hospital. I couldn’t look you in the eye and not tell you what I’d done.”
“You didn’t do shit.” He glances over at his chair. “Do I wish I could still walk? Yeah. Hell, yeah, but I have a life. A damned good life, and whoever’s looking out for me up above made sure I made it through that hellish time without killing myself to get to live it. Don’t feel sorry for me, J.”
“I don’t.”
“Good, because this chair isn’t stopping a damn thing in my world.”
I laugh as he pulls me into his arms to straddle him again.
“Last night, while I was holding Colin, you said you wanted kids. Is that true, or were you just caught up in his cuteness?”
My smile widens. “He is a cutie, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, looks just like his uncle.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”
“Me too.”
“You’ve always wanted to be a mom?”
I giggle as he begins tickling me up and down my waist.
“You know what I meant.”
“Stop. You know I can’t stop laughing once you start tickling me.” I squirm and try to get away, but his arms are firm. “How do you stay so strong?”
“Working out, like anyone else, J. I go to physical therapy to aid in keeping some muscle in my legs too. I haven’t been to the gym or my karate class in weeks, though, because of work … and you.”
“Karate?”
He nods. “Took that up a few years after the chair.”
“You’re still doing it?”
He nods again. “Helps in the ring.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing underground fights.”
“Told you. Fighting will always be a part of me. Connor hates it, too, though.”
“Is that the real reason you continue to do it?”
He pauses, pulling back. “Maybe.”
“Don’t you think it’s about time to give that up?”
“Don’t you think it’s about time to give up that guilt you’ve been carrying over my accident?”
My eyes narrow, and I place my hands on my hip.
He stares at me with a lifted brow.
“Don’t try to tell me what to do.”
“Listen, I’m the one in this chair. Not you. If I don’t hold a grudge against you for doing what you thought was right at that time to save me, you don’t get to hold one against yourself. Got it?”
He palms my face with both of his hands.
Frowning, I stare into his deeply penetrative gaze. He always had a way of making me feel wholly exposed with a look. I run my finger across his bottom lip before leaning in to press a kiss to it.
“I’ve carried it for so long. It’s hard to let something like that go.”
“Then let me help you.” He pulls me in, kissing me until I forget whatever it was we were discussing.
“The tree lighting?” I ask Mark as I sit at his kitchen table while he prepares pancakes and bacon over the griddle on the countertop.
“Yeah, it’s happening tonight. You know the place, not too far from Townsend Industries.”
I sigh.
“What’s the matter?” He turns, looking at me with concern in his eyes.
Shrugging, I answer, “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve avoided holiday events for so long. Or would only take part in them from the periphery. As a kid, holidays weren’t much fun because my father made sure that every single part of the day went his way, down to what I had to drink at holiday meals.”
“He was that controlling?” The expression on his face morphs into what I can only describe as hostile.
I nod, feeling ashamed.
“Why the hell didn’t you ever tell me? That’s what you were holding back from me the whole time?” he asks as he brings our filled plates over to the table.
I shake my head as I stare down at the chocolate chip pancakes and strips of bacon and scrambled eggs on my plate.
“I saw the sadness in your eyes the first time we spoke.”
My heart squeezes in my chest as I peer up at him. The tenderness in his voice causes the butterflies in my stomach to start moving around.
“The sadness you tried to hide behind your smile. Most missed it.”
“But you never did.” I give him a small smile. “It was easy to keep other people at arm’s length. Even close friends from my childhood, I pulled away from during high school. The older I got, the more and more controlling he became. Railing about staying away from boys and making sure my mother kept me on a strict schedule so I wouldn’t have much free time to get into trouble.”
“But you still managed to get into a whole lot of trouble with me.”
I laugh at the wiggle of his eyebrows. “Yeah, you were always my biggest temptation.” I lean over and pull him in for a kiss.
“Eat so that I can fill your belly with something else.”
Giggling, I cut into the pancakes, devouring them. We worked up an appetite last night.
“What’re your plans for the day?”
“I—” I pause, and my eyes widen. “Mama. I need to get home and check on her. I don’t know if she’s ever been drunk like that.” My heart begins racing, strangely.
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
I shake my head. “No, I mean, yeah, she should be, but I don’t know.”
“What is it?”
“She’s been having such a hard time since my father died. A piece of me had hoped she’d eventually come to see his death as granting her freedom in a way.” I cringe and look shame-faced at Mark. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”
He shrugs and takes a hearty bite of the strip of bacon in his hand before shaking his head. “Bastard doesn’t sound like much to grieve over to me. Does that sound harsh?” He looks at me pointedly.
Tilting my head to the side, I answer, “Yes.”
He shrugs again. “Oh well. I don’t like him, and he’s probably lucky I never got the chance to meet him while he was still breathing.”
The menacing tone his voice takes on sends a chill down my spine. Mark always had a playful, and often, even an arrogant poise about himself. When we were alone, he displayed his more loving side to me, but there were times, only a handful in which I saw his vengeful side. Like, for example, when one of our high school’s football players decided the no I’d given him when he asked me out wasn’t a suitable answer. That guy had ended up with a fractured wrist but was too afraid to tell anyone what happened.
I’d been there and witnessed Mark put a guy who was three inches taller than him and broader, by a lot, on his butt. Literally.
“I’m grateful you never got that opportunity,” I mumble.
Glancing around his open space loft, I admire the brick walls and fireplace area. “That’d be a perfect spot for your Christmas tree. Are you planning on putting one up this year?”
He snorts. “I don’t decorate for the holidays.”
“Why no—” I stop myself from finishing, feeling like an idiot. Of course, the holidays wouldn’t bring back good m
emories for him. “December 23rd,” I murmur, sighing.
He nods solemnly as he takes the final bite of his pancake.
It’s the anniversary of Mark’s accident. It happened two days before Christmas, while all of us high schoolers were on break. Mark and I were supposed to hang out that night and exchange gifts. But then he got a call on his cell from one of the guys at the gym where he sometimes boxed. There was an opportunity for a fight, and this one was for money.
“I had a bad feeling about that fight,” I admit.
He sits back in his chair, looking at me, silently asking me to finish.
“I enjoyed seeing you fight. Can’t lie about that. You’re a natural in the ring. I don’t care what your dad said or who you were compared to. You have your own style. And I’ve watched a lot of fights since then.”
He grins.
I’d become an MMA fan over the years. Somehow it made me feel closer to Mark even when we were years and miles apart. It’s a sport he introduced me to.
“Even after you won against that guy. What was his name?”
“Sean Knox. He went on to do some more amateur fights but never turned pro.”
I nod. “Yeah, well, he couldn’t beat you. But afterward, I had a gut feeling something was about to go wrong. I tried to brush it off because you’d won the fight, and it was two days before Christmas. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see you over Christmas break, so I wanted that night to be special.”
“You were going away with your parents for the holidays.”
“I lied,” I say, peering up at him. “We were staying in town, but I was afraid you’d ask to come over or for me to go out and hang with you, which we couldn’t do.”
Mark nods in understanding.
“What if I bought a tree this year?” he asks as the room grows silent.
“Fake one or a real one?”
“Pssh, we don’t do fake around here, J.”
I laugh at the same time my belly flip flops at the moniker only he has ever called me.
“It’ll be my first tree in this place in five years of living here. Can’t have a fake one.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Good. You need to help me pick it out.” He pushes back from the table, lifting both of our plates, and then rolls over to the sink.
A Holiday Temptation: A Holiday Novella Page 11
