Jackson’s eyes caught mine…reeling me closer as I came toward the bed.
“I can’t get out,” he chuckled. “Mother Nature dumped a lot of snow on us. I can’t leave yet.”
That was a lie. He could have left with the men earlier. And he could have left on the snowmobile. But he hadn’t. He’d stayed. And protected us too.
“You be my dad?”
My eyes instinctively closed with that unintentional blow…Part of me wanted to double over as the pain coursed through me. Beck’s father was dead and the boy so wanted a dad. Deserved a dad. Setting the medicine on the nightstand, I escaped the room before I broke down in front of them both.
From the kitchen, I heard Jackson sweetly give Beck the medicine. In the upper cupboard behind the fridge was a bottle of vodka. I’d not had a drink in years—Ian was the one that drank. A lot. The bottle was still full….unopened actually. I opened it, poured a small glass and slammed it before Jackson could see. The liquid hugged my throat the entire way down until it burned the pit of my stomach. If there was a flame anywhere near my breath…my exhalation would catch fire.
I poured another glass.
“It’s 9:30 in the morning,” Jackson said, strolling into the kitchen.
“Thank you, Father Time.”
A small hiss slid between my lips as I swallowed the second shot, which seemed just as potent.
“Who shoots vodka?”
I’d never been a drinker. All liquor tasted awful to me. I just wanted to numb what I was feeling. Make it go away.
I opened the fridge and poured the glass half full of orange juice and then watered it down with the vodka.
He grabbed my upper arm. “Stop! Beck is going to need you.”
“Seems to me you are doing a dandy job.”
“You were sick, Mela.” Standing at the sink, he popped his antibiotics in his mouth and chased them with water. His blue eyes seared into me as I purposefully shot the orange juice and vodka back. “I’m new to him. A novelty. You want to let me in on why you think drowning yourself in vodka is gonna help?”
Being a complete and total spiteful bitch, I poured another.
A slow smirk touched his lips as he swaggered toward me.
“I get it. You need alcohol to mask what you’re feeling for me?”
“What?” I snapped.
“You act all badass around here, but the bottom line is—you need to be taken care of,” he paused, standing so close, I had to angle my neck up to see him. “More importantly, you want to be taken care of.”
“I’m sorry. Did you smoke a little weed and I wasn’t aware of it? At what part did you get confused that I needed you?”
He twisted the lid on the vodka, but it didn’t matter. The three shots were probably enough…the effects of it swam through my veins.
Taking a step backward, he met my step…each step like a chess match until I was against the wall. Checkmate.
“Somewhere between your body melting into mine when I held you and you being unable to breathe before I let you go. That’s a telltale sign.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was emotional.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Having him so close was unnerving. My body came alive in ways that it hadn’t in so long. Maybe never, actually. This had to stop. Beck was only a room away. I’d been sick. He’d been stabbed!
I tried to step around him, but his arms shot up imprisoning me. I stared down at my bare feet. His fresh-showered smell teased me.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
“No,” I said. His blue eyes would be my undoing.
“Look. At. Me.”
I felt the pull before our eyes even met…but the swarm of flutters reverberated through my chest, and a weak moan confirmed his words when my face reflected in his eyes.
“Quit ignoring what your body wants.”
“What is it exactly that you think my body wants?” I asked refusing to cave.
The backs of his fingers brushed over my hard nipples, which protruded through my shirt. “Me. All of me.” His knuckles came back up stimulating them again. I tried to hide the huff of air that rushed up my throat, but I couldn’t. “And I intend to take all of you. Every last inch.”
My knees trembled, nearly buckled, as he spoke, and one of his hands dropped to my waist to prevent me from falling.
“Case in point. May I kiss you?”
“Absolutely not…” I barely got the words out before his mouth came down softly over mine. Initially, I fought the kiss. Resisted. The warmth. The tenderness. The desire…until his arm wrapped around me, his hand resting at the small of my back. I arched so much; it was if he was dipping me in dance. Yet, his mouth never abandoned mine. His tongue found my tongue and took it in just like I did him the day I found him in the snow. He held my mouth captive as our lips silently kissed over and over never breaking contact. Somehow, I felt the kiss in the tips of my breasts and in the pit of my groin. And how could a kiss make my toes curl…I didn’t understand. He controlled the kiss. He controlled me. Never once had I experienced an encounter quite like this. My traitorous body had never reacted to a touch this way. Never had I wanted anyone so much.
As the kiss slowed, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d kissed all right. I felt rusty. It had been so very long ago. And I’d been so caught up in the moment…all I could think about was what he was doing. And he did it perfectly.
When my eyes opened, his face was still close.
I tried to steady my erratic heartbeat. Be smart, Mela.
“Wanna play a game?”
My lips pursed. “Does it involve us getting naked?” I asked suspiciously.
A slow grin pulled at his lips. “It’s a game called Just the Tip.”
I shoved away from him. “How old are you, twelve?”
I peeked around the corner, Beck slept peacefully. Thank goodness.
“I’m thirty-one. How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine. But too old to play games.”
I heard him laugh behind me. As weak as I felt, I liked spending time with him, so I pushed through the fatigue.
“You’re never too old for games. Want to sit in by the fire since Beck is resting?”
I nodded. After being sick for three days, there was a lot to do around the house. Wash sheets. Laundry. Jackson had done the dishes. But I wanted to sit and talk with him. So I did.
“Yes. But then I’d like to shower.”
He sat on one end of the sofa and I plopped down on the other, tucking a foot beneath me.
“What’s your game?”
“It’s called Would You Rather.”
He waited for me to respond. But I honestly didn’t know the game.
I shrugged. “You go first?”
He slapped his hands together, rubbing them creating friction and raised his eyebrows up and down. He seemed excited. I rolled my eyes.
“Would you rather get attacked by fire ants or get stuck in quick sand?”
A grimace contorted my face. What? “Neither!”
He reached over and yanked my foot toward him. “The object of the game is to pick one.”
Those were absolutely crazy questions. “But I wouldn’t want either to happen.”
With his thumb and index finger, he rubbed both his eyes as he shook his head.
“Ok. Let’s try this one. “Would you rather eat a snow cone or ice cream?” he asked.
“What kind of snow cone and what kind of ice cream?” I asked.
His thumbs dug into the bottom of my foot. Not tickling…but squeezing…massaging…pinching.
“You’re killing me,” he said. The man was breathtakingly perfect. His cheekbones were something any girl would kill for and that beard…my goodness, it represented every possible rugged thing in a man.
“Ice cream, I guess,” I finally answered not fully understanding the point of the game. “Would you rather get lost in a snow storm or caught in a hurricane?”
He
idly scratched down the beard that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. That minutes ago, I had felt on my face. Now that I thought about it, the whiskers left a slight burn on my chin.
“If the snow storm leads me here again, I’d choose that.” His eyes turned serious.
Shifting uncomfortably, I tried to pull my foot back, but he held firmly to it. His eyes fluctuated from serious to dangerous.
“Would you rather find a lost man in the snow or build a snowman in the snow?” He asked with an arched brow.
“That’s easy. A snowman.”
“Why is that?”
“He doesn’t talk back.” I grinned.
While he rubbed my feet, he stared at me. “Talk back? He doesn’t talk at all.”
My smile broadened. “Ding! Ding! Ding!”
“Is that what you want, Mela? A man that doesn’t talk?”
I cocked a brow at him and shrugged. “My turn. Would you rather have a foot massage,” I asked wiggling my toes. “Or a back massage?”
“Back. That’s easy. You?”
I shook my head. “You have to ask that in a question and lose your turn.”
A lazy grin slid across his face. “Would you rather kiss me again or not kiss me again?”
A slow blush crept up my face. When I tried to pull my foot back, he tightened his grip once again.
“Jackson.”
“Mela,” he said back, not concerned about making me uncomfortable. “Answer.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His eyes pulled together. “What?” he asked confused. “That wasn’t a yes or no question. At least go with A or B,” he laughed, tugging my foot and pulling my entire body closer to him.
My back was flat on the sofa and one leg was behind him while the other rested on his lap—leaving my legs parted.
“A.”
Surprising me, he bent forward; the width of his body spread my legs wider. One of his hands raked through my hair, the other brushed my cheeks as his tongue swept between his lips right before they met mine. The warmth of his breath fueled my desire as our tongues gradually met and mingled. It was no sooner that one long kiss would end that another would begin. And it wasn’t until a low groan scraped up his throat that I realized I had arched my hips into him.
My eyes shot wide as both hands came up lying flush with his chest. When his eyes pulled open, a blue flame flickered inside. A flicker of lust. A flicker of desire. Need. My body had never responded like that. I panicked.
“Listen to what your body is trying to say. Stop thinking,” he pled.
“I need to get up.”
“Mela, tell me you don’t want this.”
Silence. I wouldn’t admit that. My entire body was prepared to take him.
“What are you afraid of?” he whispered, dropping a tender kiss on my forehead.
Me? I was afraid of becoming her. He had no clue the emotional scars I carried. If he knew my sister was a porn star, he’d expect me to fuck like a champ. I didn’t. Nowhere even close. I remained quiet.
With a small sigh Jackson pushed up and off me and then extended his hand to assist me. I didn’t want to hurt him. Or have him doubt what I felt but… Once I was standing, he took my hand in his.
“Would you rather me leave here having been inside you or would you rather me leave here never feeling that?” His blue eyes smoldered.
I’d never wanted a man more. Ever. Not even Ian and that brought a wave of guilt. When our eyes met it was like a spontaneous combustion. Neither of us could deny what was happening between us…but goodbye was inevitable. I didn’t know how Beck and I would take him walking out now… His question went unanswered, again. Game over.
After I stepped around him, his head fell forward as his shoulders rounded. “Mela, please, you don’t even have to say a word if you change your mind. Just give me a green light and I’ll take it from there. I’ll do the rest.”
Silence…that was my only answer…silence.
Chapter 13
JACKSON
As far as green lights go, it’s about as green as you get. (unknown)
As I stared out at the freshly fallen six new inches of snow, I feared I’d never get out of here. This woman was in my head like no woman before. Her damn hypnotizing, coffee-colored eyes captivated me completely—making me her captive again in more ways than one. Maybe it was her innocence. Maybe it was the hunger—the craving behind those rounded eyes. Any man would recognize that sort of hunger. She was starved for attention…for touch…for love. I only hoped that she’d give me the opportunity to be the one to do that for her. Though, if she did, then I feared I’d never want to leave. And…I had to leave. Rarely had we ever gotten this much snow this early. But, they say everything happens for a reason. I might have just found my reason for being.
Every time I watched her fidget with her hair, pull it to one side, twist it around her finger, I wondered what my hands would feel like in it. Grabbing it. Damn…the woman was seriously born to be fucked…by me. Her long legs would wrap around me so nicely. I had a feeling no man had touched her since the accident. Fuck, I wanted to be the one.
I wondered what was going down back home. My phone had no service. No one could reach me. No texts. No calls. No emails. I had no idea what was being reported in the news. With the presidential election, my job would be in jeopardy anyway…so I couldn’t completely blame my father or myself. Hell, it would be iffy if I still had a job when I got back at all.
My eyes traced back and forth over the snow once again looking for anything unusual. This was how she spent her days…watching over her shoulder. Standing vigil. Being vigilant. She’d be ashamed of the man that I used to be if she knew. My last three years had been spent blowing money and blowing off women. I hoped she never found out about that man. Every part of me wanted to be the man she thought I was. The man Beck thought I was… I knew that I could put an end to their hiding with only a few words. But now? I’d waited too long. She’d question why I waited. She’d wonder what my motive was. I had to figure it out before it was too late.
Beck rested peacefully in the loft, and Mela slept in her bed once she’d medicated him and put him to sleep. Watching her be a mom—watching her with Beck made me want to be a father. His father. These thoughts were ridiculous. I’d known her eight days, and six out of the eight, one of us had been delirious. Unquestionably, I needed to step back from her. Back away. Leave. I knew what she saw when she looked at me. I was here playing father to Beck…giving her false ideas. Maybe I needed to make sure she understood I wasn’t father material. If she knew the real me or my family…she wouldn’t let me anywhere near Beck. Fuck…I didn’t know. Maybe it was time Mela McKinley met the real Jackson Winslow.
When I turned away from the window, there she was. Just standing there. Her brown, lean bare legs splayed out teasingly from under the t-shirt that fell just below her waist. Black panties curved deliciously around her pussy. Our eyes found each other even in the dark. I had a feeling this was the green light…the green light I prayed for. The green light I couldn’t wait for. The green light I dreaded. Jesus, I wanted to devour her but she deserved so much more than me.
Chapter 14
MELA
In the end, only regret the chances you didn’t take.
From the second I stepped in front of him, half naked, I regretted it. Something different fired off in his eyes than had been there earlier. Hesitation? What the hell? Green light, my ass. Finally, for the first time in my entire life, I’d made a feeble attempt at sexually asserting myself and he was going to say no. I could see it in his face. Wait…his eyes consumed every inch of me and then disappeared behind his lids.
“Jackson…” I whispered his name.
He didn’t even open his eyes. My internal mercury began to rise as his jaw ticked back and forth. Grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, I stretched it lower to cover my exposed crotch. Unexpectedly, I felt like I’d always feared feeling…nasty.
“Fuck you,” I
said beneath my breath, shuffling around and heading back toward the kitchen while his eyes remained closed.
Before I’d even taken two steps, his strong arms wound around me. Oh how I wanted to get lost in that embrace. My entire body tensed in anger though.
“Stop messing with my head,” I gritted. “I want you gone tomorrow. You can take the snowmobile back into town. Your phone should work there.”
“Mela, don’t.”
I spun toward him. “Why’d you stay? Your family is waiting! Is that a wife, Jackson? Kids? Go home to them. We don’t need you here.”
“There is no wife, Mela. No kids. I came out here to escape what was happening at home. I never thought that…”
His words trailed off.
“What was happening? Never thought what? That you’d come across some poor, desperate woman and her son? Save the pity.”
Within a short second, I was back in his embrace but this time his hands gripped my shoulders. “Stop,” he said. “You don’t…get it. I have to leave here. I can’t stay forever. I have a life!”
Though I knew that all along, the words cut. A part of me wanted him to stay. Needed him to want to stay.
“Well for five easy monthly installments of $29.99, we could be yours. It’s the deal of a lifetime. The rent-a-family program.” I glared at him and then shoved him away.
I made it to the kitchen sink before he caught me this time, and he spun me to face him. Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. There was no place I’d rather be than this close to him. My senses had come alive since he’d been here.
“What do you want from me?” he asked. His jaw clenched so tight, I wasn’t sure how the words made it out.
“Wasn’t it obvious?”
“My cock? Is that what you want, Mela?”
Tears pricked at my eyes. Hell, I wanted so much more than that. But yes, I wanted to be with him. Even with the thought of him leaving, I wanted him. My body ached for him to fill me. I’d forgotten what that even felt like.
“Yes.”
His brows pulled together. He was a walking contradiction. Did he want to give me that or not?
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