Please Me (Crush Me Book 2)

by Stasia Black

  I try to turn in Jackson’s hold, but with one firm arm around my waist, he holds me still. “I want you like this, beautiful,” he whispers. His hips move into me from behind and his long, thick erection nudges the backs of my thighs.

  He slips one hand underneath my body and massages my breast. The other caresses slowly down my torso, dipping into my belly button before dropping lower, lower—

  I moan and squirm beneath his ministrations as wetness seeps between my legs.

  “Jackson…”

  “Let me worship you,” he whispers, going back to kissing and nipping the back of my neck.

  It continues like that for several minutes with me growing wetter and wetter. The way he’s holding me, I can barely grab him. He’s holding onto his power position from last night and I’m not sure how I like it. But oh—

  I melt against him as he begins rubbing in earnest at that spot.

  I do so like what he’s doing. It’s— Oh God, right there, yes.

  It’s good but not enough.

  “I need you in me,” I rasp. “Get that cock in me. I need it hard. I need it in me so hard.”

  I try one more time to turn and loop a leg around his hip, but he just growls and grips the back of my right leg to part me for him.

  I’m about to tell him not like that, but then he’s filling me and the protest dies on my tongue. He spoons me as he thrusts deep up inside me, the position forcing a tight grip on his cock. He groans in appreciation and my head dips back on his shoulder.

  Again, I breathe him in. And I’m totally present.

  Here, with him, held so tight, one of his hands on my breast and the other moving back to tease at my clit. No space for ghosts. Just him and me.

  He makes my body new.

  “Christ, your pussy’s clutching me like a vise. Fuck. Never felt anything like it.” He sucks on the back of my neck. Hard.

  Fucker’s marking me. I’ll have to wear my hair down to cover it. I love it. I want to claw and bite him to mark him as mine in return. Even the thought makes me wild.

  I grasp what parts of him I can, reaching up a hand behind me and burying it in his hair, yanking him forward while twisting to kiss him. With my other hand, I cover his fingers rubbing at my cunt and we work it together.

  His thrusts from behind turn almost violent. Both our bodies jolt with every stroke in, but he’s holding me so tight, we stay glued together. I bite his lip and then suck it into my mouth to soothe it afterward. Our kisses grow even more ferocious.

  “God. Fucking. Damn,” he swears between each punishing thrust, sweat pouring from his brow.

  Each time he hits that much deeper inside and God. The light and the high, it’s so close, I’m half riding it already. But I want more, I’m a greedy bitch and I want more, I want it all, I want to ride and ride it—

  “More. Give me more, fucker!” I yell at him. “Deeper. Give it to me harder!”

  With a roar, he does. He pinches my nipple and goes at me like a battering ram from behind and then it hits so bright, so goddamn beautiful.

  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” I scream as my body spasms and keeps spasming. Over my shoulder I see Jackson’s face contort in agonized pleasure. His eyes lock with mine and the high ramps up to another level because we’re sharing this transcendent experience. We made it together. Him and me. Just him and me. Locked here forever. Another spasm hits my body and I clutch his hand so tight I’m sure I’ll leave those marks I wanted.

  Jackson slackens first, his whole body slumping into me from behind. He wraps his arms around me so tight I almost can’t breathe. One last aftershock rockets through me outward to the tips of my body. This time, when I try to turn around, Jackson doesn’t fight me.

  He pulls me just as close though, my breasts crushed to his chest, his head notched over mine, one of his legs swung over my hip. It’s as if he’s wrapping his entire body around me to cage me in like he’s afraid I’ll run or disappear at any moment.

  Maybe that’s what does it. Maybe it’s the intensity of what we just experienced or the fact that I’m still left facing Gentry after all this.

  Either way, stupid-ass tears start running down my cheeks. I bury my face in Jackson’s neck. Pine. It’s a smell that I’ll associate with safety and pleasure for the rest of my life. He’s helped me truly feel safe, even in the most vulnerable of situations. I smile through my tears.

  One by one, he’s helping me take back the positions Gentry and those animals stole from me. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to enjoy that sexual position again—from behind.

  Jackson’s looking down at me. There are questions in his eyes that he doesn’t ask. Damn him. He’s too good. Too wonderful.

  “You really should have some more flaws,” I say through my teary smile.

  His eyebrows quirk in confusion and he tilts his head sideways.

  I just laugh at him and grab one of his hands. I kiss his fingers, then up to his knuckles, his palm, then to his thumb, which I pop in my mouth and suck. His sharp intake of breath gratifies me and my smile grows. I kiss up his forearm and as I do, I lift it to the corner of the bed. Once in position, it’s a small matter to secure the padded cuff around his wrist.

  This gets me another surprised breath from him. I grin at him like a cat with a bowl full of cream.

  “You said it yourself. All work and no play…” I kiss and lick my way down the arm I’ve shackled over to his other arm, which I also secure.

  I continue down to both his legs. There’s no centimeter of Jackson Vale’s body I won’t have explored by the time I’m through with him. It’s time he knows what it’s like to feel worshiped. And well, a little playful torture along the way won’t go amiss either.

  Chapter 15

  The following week, it feels strange to be back in the real world. At least at first.

  By Friday, I’d swear last weekend with Jackson was the bubble out of time, a wine-soaked dream I had after yet another lonely day chipping away at my never-ending fight to survive. Jackson’s had to work so much on the new prototype, we’ve barely seen each other except in passing at the office. And anyway, surely nothing as perfect as last weekend could have actually existed?

  No. I’m here dealing in cold, hard realities. I stare at the small one-and-a-half-inch cube of stacked mini computer chips with wires sticking out on two sides like spider legs.

  “So,” I ask, “the control-cube multi-rotor stack doesn’t actually need to be altered with the new programming?”

  Emmett Chen shakes his head. Emmett’s been showing me around the machine shop whenever I’ve visited this past week. “Nope. The hardware will stay the same.”

  “Of course.” I nod to myself. “It was the hardware that was holding Jackson back the whole time.” Then I realize how intimately I just said Jackson’s name. “Mr. Vale, I mean. Holding Mr. Vale back.”

  Emmett nods, apparently not picking up on anything. “This is the best we’ve got for now. Eventually the state-of-the-art will catch up to Mr. Vale’s initial vision, but in the meantime, we’ll get a working competitive copter now that the algorithms are adjusted to the hardware limitations.”

  This time it’s me who nods. Yup.

  Thanks to yours truly opening her big fat mouth. Vale would have made it to the same conclusion eventually, or the hardware would have caught up to his initial vision. But probably not in the two-week time frame Gentry gave me. My heart sinks.

  I look around the room filled with parts. What Emmett’s just told me makes my job of corporate espionage that much easier.

  If I go through with it. Which I won’t.

  But if I did…

  There’s plenty of hardware lying in easy access all around me. There are more than enough prototypes of the ‘failed version’ of the drone. I’d just need to have the new version of the program and know how to upload it to the control-cube.

  I stare at the block of stacked chips and the wires that lead to various kinds of inputs. I turn back to Emm
ett. “So where do you hook these up to input the actual code to the—?”

  “There you are.”

  I swing around, slack-jawed when I see Jackson striding through the doors straight toward me. I immediately jerk my hand holding the control-cube behind my back.

  Because that’s not suspicious. Stupid, Callie. I wince internally and drop the control-cube on the table behind me, hoping I’m being unobtrusive about it. Then I bring my hands back to my side, aiming for casual.

  “What’s up?” I try for breezy but I’m pretty sure I fail.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” He pauses then looks around. “Emmett had mentioned you were spending some time down here.”

  Shit shit shit shit shit.

  “It’s the way you did it, right?” I smile, careful not to make it too bright. Jackson picks up on too many nuances. Casual. Be fucking casual. “You wanted to learn your products from the bottom up. The other coders in the lab said you encourage everyone to come spend time down here so they can understand the product from every dimension.”

  His eyes soften. And I feel like the bitch that I am for lying straight to his face. I’m a horrible, horrible person and I will burn in hell.

  No. Goddammit. No I won’t because I will find a way around giving the prototype to Gentry. I stiffen my back, more determined than ever.

  The softness leaves Jackson’s face and my heart drops to my stomach. Shit. Shit, he’s seeing right through me. He knows. I open my mouth to say something, I have no idea what, but he beats me to the chase.

  “Your lawyer’s been trying to get a hold of you.”

  “What?” My hand immediately reaches for my phone in my pocket. Which is flat. No phone there. I must have left it in my purse which is back up at my office.

  “I forgot it in my purse.” I look up at Jackson. “What do they want to talk to me about?”

  “Alberto wouldn’t tell me. But he said it’s urgent.”

  Urgent? Urgent can’t be good. What if Gentry decided I was out of time and released the video early? But no, that doesn’t make sense. Then he wouldn’t have any leverage over me. Then again, who the fuck knows what goes through that sociopath’s mind?

  I all but sprint from the room, down the short hallway and to the elevator. When it doesn’t come right away, I’m about to go for the stairs, but then it pings.

  I jolt inside and Jackson is on my heels. I frantically push at the Close Door button.

  “Calm down, Callie. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  My eyes search his. “You said it was urgent. It was Alberto you talked to?” He’s the main lawyer I’ve been working with on my case. “How’d he sound on the phone? Like it was I’m-gonna-lose-my-son urgent? Or, there’s-been-a-delay-in-the-paperwork urgent?”

  Jackson lifts his shoulders and looks helpless. “Yes, it was Alberto, but I don’t know how he sounded. He just said for you to call him back as soon as you could.”

  “Give me your phone.” Why didn’t I think of this as soon as he found me? Stupid! I don’t have to wait for the elevator.

  As soon as he brings his phone out of his suitcoat pocket, I’m dialing the lawyer’s number. He’s probably got it saved somewhere, but I have it memorized. All I hear on the other end, though, is a beep beep beep noise.

  “What the fuck?”

  Jackson looks at the phone. “No reception in the elevator.”

  “Goddammit!” I slap at the wall and my foot starts tapping a frantic pace. It feels like all the stress I’ve managed to keep bottled the last week is finally escaping like a boiling tea kettle. And I feel like making that same high-pitched screaming noise the kettles do with every second it takes to get off this fucking elevator.

  Finally, the interminable elevator ride ends and we’re at the floor where my station is. I step off and head toward the wall of windows, pressing the call button again.

  “Mr. Vale, good to hear from you as always.”

  “It’s not Mr. Vale, it’s Calliope Cruise. You have information regarding my son’s custody case?”

  “Oh,” Alberto says. “Hi. Yes, I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “What about? I’m kind of going crazy here.”

  “There’s been a development. David’s lawyers just got some new testimony and it could be damaging to our case. Nothing that would lose us the case,” he quickly amends. “But it won’t be helpful either.”

  “Who’s testimony could he get that could hurt us? Did he pay someone to perjure themselves?” I pace back and forth. “What the hell are they saying anyway? I swear, that bastard—”

  “It’s your parents.”

  Silence. “My…” I can’t even finish the thought. I just… “What?”

  Jackson, obviously frustrated at only hearing one end of the conversation, takes the phone from me and pushes a button. “Alberto, you’re on speaker now. Can you please repeat what you just said?”

  “David’s lawyers have brought forward some new testimony that they’ll be introducing at the upcoming trial. From Callie’s parents.”

  Jackson’s face mirrors my shock. Okay. So I didn’t mishear Alberto.

  “Do you have the transcripts?” My voice is little more than a whisper. “What did he get them to say?”

  “You have to understand, Callie,” Alberto starts, “it was most likely one of the investigators from David’s lawyer’s firm that went and spoke to them. They could’ve presented themselves as a neutral third party. Your parents didn’t necessarily know that their words would be used to testify against you.”

  Didn’t necessarily know.

  “What do the transcripts say?” My voice is iron.

  Alberto lets out a sigh. “They speak about the time when you showed up on their door pregnant. Your dad goes on record about how he discovered that you worked at Hooters for years. And he expresses…er, his disappointment over the entire situation and was less than complimentary about…um…your moral character.”

  I close my eyes and can’t help the way my entire body slumps. Dad knew about Hooters? Yeah I worked there for years but I thought I’d hidden it from them. I worked forty-five minutes away, picked up all my paychecks and deposited them in a different bank than my parents used. Hell, I even used my friend Marcy’s place as my home address to fill out any and all paperwork.

  I wonder when he found out. Was it before I came home knocked up by my professor? Did it contribute to him saying I was little better than a prostitute? My parents said a lot of things at the time, but that was the comment that had landed like an arrow through the chest.

  And because I’m an idiot, the hurt punches the old wound all over again. I wince and rub absently at my sternum. It might have been Mom taking me to all the pageants, but I was always Daddy’s little girl. And then the sacrifices I made for him so he could keep that job at the bank, even if he never knew about his boss Mr. McIntyre’s late-night visits to my room…

  I hand Jackson his phone and turn away, ready to walk out of the room.

  “What can we do to fight this?” Jackson asks.

  “Callie,” Alberto says, not knowing I moved away, “the best way I see for us to fight this is for you to go visit them and see if they’ll testify on your behalf. They can explain they were tricked into saying things on the record and the judge will take that into consideration. We need them on our side so they can testify on behalf of your character.”

  I can’t help the caustic quality to my laugh. “Didn’t you read the transcript? You know exactly what my father thinks of me.”

  There’s a short silence, and then Alberto asks, “How long has it been since you’ve seen your parents face-to-face?”

  I shake my head, then realize he can’t see it. “Three years.”

  As soon as my parents made it clear that neither I nor my baby was welcome, I swore I’d never step foot on their property again.

  “There’s never been a bigger incentive to reach out and reconcile,” Alberto says. “What David’s lawyers g
ot on record were words no doubt taken completely out of context. Plus, they got nothing from your mother. We can fight this, and there’s no better way than by getting it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  I lean against the nearest wall and look up at the ceiling. Shit. All of this boils down to one thing. The last thing in the world I want to do.

  I have to visit my fucking parents.

  Chapter 16

  Not only does Jackson want to come with me, he ignores my protest that it’s only a six-hour drive up to Siskiyou County and charters a plane.

  “Six hours both ways,” he reminds me as we walk from my workstation toward the elevator at the end of the day. “I’m happy to go on a road trip with you, if that’s what you want, but my friend, Deve, owns a bunch of planes that he charters out. He also owes me a favor so it’d be free.”

  I frown, slowing down. “That doesn’t sound very safe. Just borrowing a plane that your friend has.”

  Jackson laughs and I turn to glare at him.

  “Did I forget to mention that Deve is a founding partner of Excelsior Air Lines?”

  I almost choke on the sip I’m taking from my water bottle. Holy shit. “Excelsior Air— Like the company that’s building those commercial rocketships for tourist rides into outer space?”

  Jackson nods easily, like it’s normal to have those sorts of friends.

  “What’d you do for him so he owes you a favor?”

  “A gentleman never tells,” Jackson says, his dimple on display as he presses the down button to call the elevator. Then his face sobers. “So that’s a yes? I’ll pick you and your sister up at ten o’clock on Saturday morning and then we’ll head to Deve’s airfield. The ride to your parents’ place should take a little less than an hour by plane.”

  The elevator arrives and we step on, moving to the back corner. Since we’re on the top floor, it pauses at almost every floor on the way down to pick up passengers. Jackson faces me with his back to the rest of the box—a clear indication that even if other people might want to chat with the CEO, he’s only interested in having a private conversation with me.