Unexpectedly, he flipped me toward the sink, bending me at the waist.
“No, Jackson,” I said, but God I wanted him. Everything I felt negated that one word.
His hand rubbed over my ass cheeks.
“Don’t say no, Mela unless you mean it. If you say no again, I will stop. And you don’t want me to stop.”
The words he spoke—the deepness in his tone—vibrated in my hardened nipples.
“I want to hear you say it,” he said as he came up behind me. One hand came around cupping my breast. “Say you want me, Mela.” His other hand broke the barrier of my panties—his finger dipped tenderly inside of me. “Jesus, baby. Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”
“Ahhh,” I moaned, unable to concentrate as I arched my hips to meet his finger. I wanted to be his baby.
I heard him unfastening his jeans and my body clenched in anticipation. This wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. No kissing. No cuddling. No foreplay. Just sex. That was ok though, I could be that girl. For tonight.
Sooner than I liked, his finger abandoned me and he yanked my panties down. His foot inched mine out further—spreading me wide. My body buzzed with expectation. When he rubbed his head against my wetness, I braced myself.
“Is this what you want? My cock?”
I nodded. And so much more.
Brutally slow, he slid inside me centimeter by centimeter…inch by inch…stretching me…filling me.
“Stop,” I gasped. And he stopped moving. It felt like I was being ripped apart. It had been so long. As much as I loved and missed Ian, Jackson was different. He felt so good. So right. Perfect.
He inched further in.
“Relax your body. I’m not going to stop until you’ve taken all of me.”
I wasn’t prepared for his finger to reach around and touch my clit. My body was a bundle of mixed messages. First I arched back into his cock then I arched toward his finger. His finger slid expertly around my clit, but I knew I wouldn’t come.
“Come, Mela. Come around my cock,” he said, pulling out and sliding back in.
So many sensations. I wouldn’t come. I knew that.
His finger stimulated me in a way I’d never experienced. Even though I was afraid to tell him, the words escaped…
“I’ve never come before so don’t worry about me.”
Jackson stopped moving. Pulled out of me completely, and then spun me around to face him.
“What?”
Even though it was nighttime, blood suddenly invaded my cheeks and I was thankful he couldn’t see. I shook my head.
“It’s fine,” I quickly added. “I’m not sure I even can. It’s not that big of a deal.” My words sputtered out hastily. I didn’t want to explain my mental hang-ups.
With my hand in his, he guided me to the bedroom. His mood had shifted. The bed was already pulled down from where I slept earlier. My body felt vacant without him. I already missed him inside of me.
“Mela?”
My eyes found his darkened ones.
“Second thoughts?”
I swallowed and shook my head.
His fingers raked through my hair clawing at my scalp pulling my head toward his. Our lips crushed together urgently at first, until they found a rhythm all their own. Delicate, tender, tantalizing kisses…tongues touching, retreating, meeting again. His beard was so manly that I didn’t mind the roughness.
A low moan escaped my mouth as my feet suddenly left the ground when he lifted me and laid me on the bed. After another long kiss, his mouth left mine, panting…my face and lips burning from his whiskers
With his lips, he kissed down to the base of my neck leaving a small burning trail in his tracks. Finally, he reached my breasts. They had been sensitive right after Beck was born. But I just didn’t know anymore if they were. Following light kisses all the way around my nipples, he covered his mouth over my breast. My nipple hardened as his tongue circled around it.
“Oooh…” I moaned while my entire body sensed the desire that his mouth seemed to unleash. The moonlight coming through the window cast a light over him. And I watched as he glanced up at me while he brushed his beard over my nipple. The roughness felt incredible.
“Mela. I’m going to make you come,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And my entire body felt the aftermath of his words.
He treated my pelvic bone and abdomen to a series of kisses and small nibbles before nestling between my legs. My God…this man was a sexual god. I didn’t know how much until his tongue began swirling and fluttering over my clit. There was no way I was going to let him think he couldn’t do it. I’d pretend…to make him feel better. It wasn’t his fault that I was a sexual cripple.
As he continued his assault on my clit, a warmness fanned out over my abdomen. An unfamiliar feeling radiated throughout my body. I got lost in the feeling—wanting more. That’s when his finger glided into me, an entirely new sensation that brought my body out of hibernation.
“Oh God, Jackson,” I said. Something was happening to me…I’d lost all control. My limbs felt tingly. My toes curled. He wasn’t stopping. I wanted him to stop for a second because I didn’t know what was going to happen, but it was a very short second.
When he reached up, finding my aroused nipple, gently pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger…I knew it was going to happen. I didn’t stop it. I didn’t pretend. I lay there allowing it to build—to overtake me.
“Please, Jackson. Don’t stop,” I whimpered as the sensation took possession of my body. The building was at its peak. The detonation was coming. “Oh, God,” I cried as my body convulsed into a wave of tremors from an explosion in my pelvis that had a massive fallout. A tingling surge rippled deep inside my abdomen, my insides longed for something to clench. Small pants puffed from my mouth as I tried to come back down to earth. I couldn’t think straight.
His whiskers brushed over my thigh as he kissed the sensitive skin. My God… It happened. Tears flooded my eyes out of sheer happiness.
“How was that, baby?” he asked proudly.
No one had ever called me baby before; I liked it.
“Um.” I started to laugh. I didn’t know what to say. I was a little embarrassed. He chuckled too and nuzzled his nose into my neck.
“Can’t I at least get an atta boy?”
Still laughing, I couldn’t get past the aftershocks my body was still experiencing.
“Thank you,“ I panted and glanced at him.
“Jesus, Mela. That was my pleasure. Trust me.”
I knew how this worked. It was my turn to please him.
“Look at me,” he said.
I did.
“Relax. Stop thinking. Just let me enjoy your body. You enjoy mine…like you just did. As many times as you like. Ok?”
I nodded as his body fell between my legs. This man, that I really didn’t know, outside of his name, I was permitting him to be inside of me without protection. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I wanted him.
When he tilted his hips, he easily slid into me, robbing me of breath. I clawed at his shoulders to slow him, but he wasn’t having it. He arched in until his balls touched me, forcing me to cry out. He gave me every inch of himself. Pushing through the pain, my hips bowed upward meeting his slow, torturous thrusts.
I expected to come down after my first orgasm but now, I wanted another. As he tenderly pumped in and out of me, his breaths grew more ragged.
“Fuck, Mela. Fuck. I want to empty myself into you.”
“I want that too, but we can’t.”
Part of me wanted him to anyway. My body was his. He owned it now, at least in my book. Possessed it. He could do with it what he pleased.
“No,” he growled. “I want to make you mine. I want to leave a part of me inside you.”
“Jackson,” I panted, feeling my body responding to him again. The sensation began to build. “I can get pregnant, we can’t…”
“I want that, Mela. I
want that with you.”
Those words distracted me momentarily until the feeling swept over me again. I was going to come…twice in one night. I moaned out loud as I waited for the blast.
“Oh,” we both said in unison.
When I felt the powerful explosion the second time, it was a different, just as pleasurable feeling as he fucked me through it. His moan became louder as his pace quickened while I rode out the most satisfying sensation I’d ever experienced.
Unexpectedly, low groans echoed out over the room as he pulled out, leaving me vacant, and shot his hot come all over my stomach. His short puffs of air slowly became longer until he released an exaggerated breath. After he collapsed next to me, silence lingered between us. A different sort of tension grew thick. He leaned in, dropping kisses on my forehead, then got up and walked to the bathroom. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to get lost in the moment we shared. Truly the first time that sex had been pleasurable, and I lay there satiated.
When he came back around the corner, his naked body still did funny things to mine. With a hand full of toilet paper, he gently cleaned his come off my belly. Outside of whisker burn that would eventually be gone, he just wiped away all evidence of our encounter. After doing whatever he did in the bathroom, I watched as he disappeared into the kitchen.
“Be right back,” he said in a low tone.
I’d never done this before. Just sex for the sake of sex. But I didn’t like the way I felt as he walked to the other room. I didn’t want him to go to the kitchen. I wanted him next to me. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this.
Somewhat shamefully, I slid my t-shirt over my head and tiptoed to the kitchen as quietly as possible to see what I could see. He stood at the kitchen window staring out into the night. A small glass held in his hand. He grabbed the bottle on the counter and poured. Alcohol? I had two bottles. Vodka and some sort of bourbon the doctor had given me two years ago for a cold. I’d never opened it.
I stepped into the kitchen.
“You ok?” I whispered. Last thing I wanted was to wake Beck right now.
His head turned toward my voice but he didn’t look at me. I sort of felt sick. He shot back what was in the glass.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Jackson. What’s wrong? And is Bourbon really gonna help?”
After pouring another shot, he tipped the glass at me.
“One shot of Mela, two shots of bourbon,” he said, shooting the amber liquid.
His cold words wracked through my body. Every single insecurity I’d ever had about sex reared its ugly head. What the hell?
“Do the two shots help you forget the one?”
“Four shots so far and yeah, something like that,” he said with sarcasm in his tone.
Asshole. He wanted to forget? God, I was stupid. I’d totally misread this man. I grabbed the keys to the snowmobile and tossed them at him, hitting him in the back.
“Just go. Get out.” I turned my back to him trying to maintain a modicum of composure. When I started walking back to the bedroom, one of his arms wrapped around my midsection, the other around my neck.
“I’m not leaving. Tell me how many men you’ve been with, Mela?”
His whiskey breath blew over my cheek and neck, oddly arousing me but irritating me too.
“What difference does it make?”
“Tell me,” he begged.
“Was I that bad?”
His nose rubbed my cheek.
“One,” I whispered.
“Beck’s father?”
I nodded. “Is that a problem?”
He rested his forehead in the crook of my neck.
“God no, but you know I have to leave. I can’t stay here.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I finally admitted. “Is there a possibility of you being able to visit? Would you even want to?”
“Mela. Trust me. You don’t want me to come back.”
I stepped away just needing a moment of distance. “If you don’t want to come back, then have the balls to just come out and say it,” I whispered.
From somewhere behind me, I heard the liquid being poured again. My eyes tightened. Suddenly the senator’s words echoed in my brain about the reasons Ian drank.
A small hiss seeped out after Jackson swallowed.
“Look. It’s not a big deal. There are plenty of other people to sleep with on the other side of the mountain. Don’t feel obligated,” I spat out, not meaning it.
Jackson’s chest heaved in and out and a sudden chill fell over the room.
“Who?” he asked.
“Who, what?”
“Who do you plan to sleep with?”
I shrugged. “Maybe my friend, Layne,” I lied.
Jackson’s hand fisted as he glowered out the window.
“What do you fucking want?” I gritted. The word fuck didn’t come out of my mouth very often. “I can’t seem to say the right thing as hard as I’m trying.”
He reached out for me but stumbled as he strolled across the kitchen. When he got to me, the smell of bourbon filled the space between us.
“I know what I want, Mela. I’m holding it in my hands right now.”
I was what he was holding. My eyes filled.
“Seriously,” I pled. “Could you make up your mind? We’ve gone from you not wanting me, to wanting me to have your baby, to wanting me to sleep with other guys to…”
“You think I want you to sleep with other guys?” His voice shot up several octaves.
“I don’t know!” I raised my voice. “You suck at communicating for being an attorney. Why can’t you just communicate with me?”
“Communicate with you?” he slurred. “What do you want me to communicate?”
“Anything!”
He forcefully pressed his mouth to mine, then back stepped, wiping his bottom lip.
“Mela, you’ve been with what…one man? One man for fuck’s sake. I’ve…God. I’ve been with…more.” He chuckled. “I’ve never had an experience like this.” He pointed back and forth between him and me. “I’ve never wanted someone like I want you.”
My brows came together. I honestly wasn’t sure how to take that.
“You live…in this bubble. This constant state of fear. I don’t know why you’re afraid. You won’t trust me. And if you lived in the real world and not in this isolated cabin—you’d know who Jackson Winslow really was. And you’d know what his father had done.”
I stood listening to him talk about himself in third person. His father?
“And trust me, you wouldn’t want you or your son around any of that. I can’t give choo what shoo want…” his words garbled together as he teetered back bumping the fridge. “I shouldn’t have said that about havin’ a baby.”
I was ready to give up and I tossed my hands in the air. “It’s whatever.”
Within seconds he took five measured steps my way, hovering over me. He lifted me under my arms and sat me on the counter.
“I’d rather you blow me than blow me off,” he laughed, but his face was serious.
I tried to shove him, but he didn’t move.
“Go to hell, Jackson,” I said beneath my breath. “You’re giving me whiplash. My God, this cat and mouse game is getting old.”
“You’re a hypocrite. You talk of communication but what are you willing to admit?” His words continued to lack good pronunciation.
“What do you wanna know?” I challenged.
“Beck’s father. Do you love him?”
My entire body slumped as if my spine had been ripped from my body. “Of course I loved him.”
Jackson’s brow arched up. “Loved?”
I swallowed. “He was killed in an accident.”
Then it was Jackson who swallowed. Hard.
“You and Beck are hiding from something. What is it?”
His eyelids stood at half-mast.
“It’s a who. Not a what. Beck’s father’s mother. Long story. She has money. Power.” I stopped
short of saying too much. “She wants him.”
He nodded. “You plan to hide forever?”
“No. I plan to hide until...”
He wedged himself between my legs. “Until what?”
“Until I know we’re safe.”
His eyes skidded over my face, looking for something. I still wanted to punch him. His hands wrapped around me, gripping my ass, and he scooted and secured me next to him. I’d never met anyone like him. He was possessive and irritating—a walking contradiction. He was the absolute most handsome man I’d ever seen. And he knew it. I’d been in complete control for the past four years and in nine days…he’d stolen the show.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I was sure the full effect of the bourbon ran through his veins and mind.
‘Yes,” I whispered.
I glanced at the clock. Three hours had passed since I’d put Beck to bed. I figured, taking the fever into account and the timeliness of the meds, we had another hour or two at best.
“You know I’d never hurt you?” he asked, searching for confirmation.
“Your words hurt me sometimes. Why can’t you just be nice?”
The electrical current between our eyes was like a lightning bolt as his eyes zeroed in on mine. My insides were a chaotic jumble of panic of him leaving and hope of him staying. When I wanted him more than anything…I pushed him away. I was beginning to understand him just a little better.
His fingers slid beneath the elastic of my panties, stealing my breath. I wasn’t prepared for the invasion. I could tell I was still wet.
There was no way I was backing down from our stare off even as his thumb brushed over my clit. Everything inside of me wanted to push his hand away simply out of spite—but I wanted him to touch me. I fought to mask my desire.
When he dipped his thumb inside me, my lips parted but my eyes stayed focused on him. He waited for a reaction.
Now that I knew the feeling…the building…the warmth…I recognized it immediately. The top button on his jeans was unfastened—damn he looked better than a man had a right to. My head rested on the cupboard behind me. Our eyes still locked as he circled my clit repeatedly. I tried to memorize the movement so that I could replicate it later.
A slight moan crept up my esophagus. His eyes widened; I raised my chin. Check! I wasn’t in checkmate…because I hadn’t lost this battle of the wills but I was starting to get worried. The orgasm brewed and I was certainly going to take that over a stare off victory.
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