Jackson slammed the phone down, shot to his feet, and shoved his fingers through my hair.
"Look at you. Coming into my office in your pretty little dress with all your sweetness. Sitting on my desk like an angel waiting for permission to sin. Just look at you."
His lips hovered over mine as he watched me, waiting for a reaction.
"I thought you could use a break," I said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his mouth. "And I know you like cream cheese frosting."
"Don't give me that," Jackson said. "You could walk in here with an empty potato sack and I'd still want to see you, beautiful."
I tilted my head up to meet his mouth, barely brushing my lips over his. A growl sounded in the back of his throat and his hands moved over my shoulders, down my back, up my flanks. He kissed me fast, almost aggressively. The desk was hard under my backside and I heard a crack of lightning off in the distance but none of it distracted from the way his tongue rolled over mine and he branded me with his kiss.
But then Jackson dropped into his chair and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. I was wild eyed and panting like a pack mule when he pointed at my dress and simply said, "Up."
"What?" I asked, my hands pressed to my chest to keep my heart from bursting free.
"The dress," he said, pointing. "I want it up."
I reached down, grabbing for the skirt's hem. I lifted it past my knees but stopped there. "Why?"
Jackson pushed the fabric to my waist but paused, his eyes narrowing as he stared between my legs. Eventually he glanced up, saying, "You brought me a treat and now I'm going to eat it."
I laugh-gasped as he tugged my undies down and tucked them in his pocket. Oof. I wasn't going to recover from the gleam in his eyes when he pocketed those panties. It was confident but also a little arrogant, like he knew what he was doing and he knew I wanted it too.
Jackson brought his hands to my thighs, pushing them apart as he scooted closer. His scruffy chin scraped the tender skin of my inner thighs and I cried out. It was a strange noise, somewhere between a yelp and a moan but also a little bit of Oh, more, please, yes.
Jackson glanced up at me, his eyes dark as night and his grin feral, and he said, "You'll get what you need, beautiful, but only if you're quiet. Can you do that for me?"
I nodded like a bobblehead doll.
He pressed his palm to my chest, forcing me back on my elbows, and then his head disappeared between my legs. I waited for what seemed like nineteen hours before I felt two fingers trailing over me. It was the lightest touch but the anticipation had my shoulders jerking up to my ears and my head falling back. Those two fingers continued tracing me from clit to core while he showered my inner thighs with kisses and tiny bites.
Every time his teeth closed around my skin, I was certain I was going to melt into a puddle and slide right off this desk. But then he released me and a thousand itty bitty fireworks went off in the exact same spot. It was a wild rush of heat and want and explosion.
It was making me crazy.
I was ready to tell Jackson that I couldn't take much more of this teasing but then those fingers parted me and he said, "You look fucking delicious."
His tongue swept over me and my elbows gave out.
Right there, that was it. I was done. Stick a fork in me. Done.
"Jackson," I whispered, reaching down to get a hold on his hair. There was something I wanted to say to him but I couldn't produce words when he was sucking on my clit. Just couldn't do it.
He pushed two fingers inside me and I had to layer both hands over my mouth to keep from moaning. His fingers moved in me, teasing over that perfect spot again and again. And his tongue on my clit and his scruff on my thighs. Oh, hell. There was no way I could stay quiet. This was too much. Far too much.
Desperate for a moment without his tongue and fingers and beard tormenting me, I twisted my fingers around his silky hair. He wasn't having it. He shook his head as he murmured his dissent.
"Jackson, you're killing me," I hissed.
His fingers stilled. He turned, kissing my inner thigh. No bite this time. "Good killing? Or bad killing?"
"G-g-good," I stammered. "Good killing. Great killing. Gonna lose my mind killing."
Jackson nipped at my thigh, setting off another itty bitty explosion before returning his tongue to my clit. But he didn't go back to business as usual. No, he redoubled his efforts. Leaving little bites all over my legs, my mound. Sucking my clit like he wanted an imprint of it on his tongue. Curling his fingers inside me until I went cross-eyed.
He did these wonderful things but he tortured me while doing it. Backing off when my hips started rocking in a rhythm with his fingers. Lapping at my clit when I wanted more circling or sucking. Leaving kisses on my folds instead of the little fireworks I was craving.
It was possible I could stir up a thunderstorm from nothing more than the electricity coursing through my body. Everything was amazing but the type of amazing that was almost awful. This hurt. My core clenched around his fingers. My abs spasmed as if I was completing my hundredth set of crunches. I was coiled tight and vibrating, my body far past the point of desperation. I was convinced I was going to snap right in half if I didn't come soon.
Just when I was ready to tear off Jackson's trousers and sink down on his cock, his thumb pressed against my back channel and I went off. A switch flipped and a roar of heat blew through my body. It went on and on, one bright, burning pulse after another.
"That's right," he said, his fingers still moving as the waves rolled through me. "That's what you needed. Isn't it, beautiful?"
He gathered me in his arms and lifted me from the desk, settling me on his lap. His cock was hard against me. Hard and impossibly thick. Though I didn't believe my body was ready for rough chair sex, I loved the way he wanted me. I rocked against him, drawing a growl from him.
"I can't have you the way I need you right now, Annie," he whispered, his lips pressed to the tender skin below my ear. "But when I get home tonight, that's how I'm taking you. Understand?"
I nodded, not sure I could manage much more. This was the kind of sex that required a warm bath, a heavy blanket, and a bottle of wine afterward. I probably didn't qualify for any of those things since it wasn't technically sex, not in the traditional sense. But dammit, I was having that wine. And a moment sprawled on the sofa with my arm over my eyes, too.
"I missed you today," he said.
I sighed at that. No one had ever missed me before. "That's why I baked cupcakes for you," I said, as if that explained everything.
"Because I missed you?" Jackson asked.
I shook my head. "No," I replied with another sigh. "Because I missed you too." I shifted back to glance up at him. "But also, I had all these peaches and I had to do something with them."
"Entirely reasonable," he said, laughing. "Why don't you spend the night? That way, you won't have to miss me tomorrow morning."
My thighs burned against the fabric of his trousers, each one of those bites throbbing as the endorphins subsided.
"Not tonight," I said with a decisive nod. When he stared at me, his brows pinched and his lips turned down in a frown, I continued, "Give me tonight to miss you and just imagine the new things I'll bake up for you. I promise, it'll be worth it."
Jackson dragged his finger down the line of my jaw and said, "You know you don't have to bake me anything. Right? I don't ask to spend time with you so you'll feed me."
"I know," I said, running my teeth over my bottom lip.
I knew that. I believed it. I wasn't using pastries with Jackson the same way I used special order books with Owen. It had taken me the past couple of weeks to get to this point but I believed it now.
"But maybe," I added, cutting myself off before I could finish. "Maybe next week. Maybe I could spend the night then. Or the week after, or something like that."
That was what I needed. A due date. A timeline for ending this crazy mind game. I could figure out whether I was fa
lling for him or falling for more of my old bullshit.
"If that's what you need, Annie, that's what you'll get," Jackson said, patting my backside.
Goddamn. I wanted this to be real. I wanted it more than anything.
Chapter 16
Jackson
Beating
v. The process of thoroughly combining ingredients and incorporating air to make cakes light and fluffy.
I was drinking coffee in my kitchen, my feet bare and shirt draped over the back of a chair when my phone vibrated across the countertop. Even though Talbott's Cove was a town built on early mornings, only a few people would call me at this hour. Either there was an emergency or my mother wanted to chat.
A quick glance at the screen informed me there was no emergency.
"Hi, Mom," I said between sips. "Up with the roosters as always?"
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," she replied. "There's no sense lazing about. I just don't understand what people do in bed all morning. I can't lie there while the sun shines."
"Don't I know it," I murmured. "Since the sun has been shining for"—I glanced at my watch—"twenty minutes, what kind of trouble have you found for yourself today?"
"I don't find trouble, Jackson," she said, immediately impatient with me. "Trouble finds me."
"Don't I know it," I repeated.
My mother was born with the energy of ten rabbits, the work ethic of five horses, and the strength of two oxen. It sounded hyperbolic but it was the straight truth. Bonnie Lau was incapable of slacking off. She kept a garden that most considered a small farm, worked as a certified nursing assistant at an assisted living facility outside Albany, and regularly volunteered for a dozen or so charitable organizations. Meals for shut-ins, rides for veterans, knitted caps for preemies—she did it all.
"Well, I just talked to your sister," Mom announced, a pinch of purpose in her voice. She was in family update mode. That was preferable to interrogation mode. "Rachel decided to extend her stay in Belize through the new year and will be joining Teach For America next summer."
"Are we sure she's in the Peace Corps and not just chilling on a beach in Belize?" I teased. "If I was in Belize, I'd be on the beach."
"She's involved in important community health outreach programs," my mother replied.
"Of course," I continued, still ribbing her about Rachel's yearlong visit to Central America. My younger sister shared my mother's boundless energy and drive to do good, but she also had a touch of wanderlust. "And sneaking in a bit of beach time. Who wouldn't?"
"It's a good thing you're my favorite son," she said. "I wouldn't put up with this malarkey if you weren't."
"Only son, Mom," I replied. "I'm your only son."
I took another sip of my coffee while I prowled through the refrigerator for something to eat. If only I had some scones or donut holes…and an equally delicious woman to share them with. Unfortunately, that woman didn't enjoy spending the night here. Which wasn't to say she didn't visit. No, she was here almost every evening. She'd come over and I'd defile her on any solid surface we could find, and then we'd cook dinner together and she'd bake. But she always left at the end of the night.
She was immune to all persuasion efforts, even ones that included me on my knees with my head under her skirt. She wasn't having it and I accepted that as another one of her craggy boundaries I wasn't to cross. Even if we'd been going about the sex-dinner-baking-no-sleepovers routine for more than a month now, it was more important for me to keep Annette in my life than break through that boundary. She'd come around in good time, I was sure of it.
"Like I said," Mom countered. "We'll have a party for Rachel when she comes home next spring. I hope you can sneak away from Maine for a few days but I understand if you can't."
I settled on a banana and resolved to bring lunch to Annette this afternoon. Given some of my meetings at the county and late conference calls, it was going to be a late lunch if I could call it that. Then, I'd bring her home with me and take another run at those peach scones.
"As soon as you give me a timeframe narrower than 'next spring,' I'll put it on my calendar. Shouldn't be a problem."
I hesitated, wanting to add that I'd be bringing a date to Rachel's party. But that was a gamble, one I wasn't certain I wanted to take. I was all for confidence but I knew my limits. Even if Annette and I found a rhythm that worked for us, it didn't mean she wanted to drive down to New York and meet my entire family.
"Might as well spit it out," Mom said. "I can hear you hemming and hawing from three hundred miles away."
"I met," I started, uncertain, "I met someone." Mom paused for a moment, drawing in a breath as if she was about to speak but then stopping and humming to herself. "What? Is it that unfathomable?"
"No, not unfathomable," she said slowly. "Just surprising. The last time we talked, you said you weren't looking."
I chuckled at that. "I was not looking," I agreed. "But someone came into my life and I couldn't look away." Again, I paused. "If it works out and the timing is good for her schedule, I'd like to bring her home with me when Rachel returns."
I heard pages flipping and drawers closing on the other end of the line, but still no response.
"You're giving me a complex with all the murmurs and pauses, Mom."
“Are you working this weekend?” my mother called, her words spoken away from the phone. "I can't find your class schedule anywhere. It must've sprouted legs and walked off because I keep it right here and it's not right here."
My dad taught at a technical college outside Albany. It would've been a typical Monday through Friday gig if he didn't sign up to teach during every extra session the college offered its students.
When I was a teenager, I thought he took on these additional courses because my parents were hurting for money. Around my fourteenth birthday, I had a man-to-man talk with him and promised to get a job so I could help out. He laughed at me. A good, long laugh complete with tears rolling down his face. He explained that more cash was always nice but he taught those courses because he enjoyed his students that much.
"It's right there," my father shouted in the distance. "Put your glasses on, Bonnie Marie. It's staring you in the face."
"Just tell me if you're teaching," she shouted back.
"Open your eyes, woman," he replied. "I'm not teaching but that schedule is going to jump up and bite you on the nose."
"Everything all right down there?" I asked.
"Everything is perfect, Jackson. Don't you worry," she said. "I was just checking my schedule to see if I could rearrange a few things and it looks like I can. Isn't that great?"
"Rearrange what? What's happening?" I asked around a mouthful of banana.
"We can come visit you this weekend," Mom said. "Dad's not working and I can trade shifts with Mary Louisa Thompson because she owes me several favors. We don't have to wait until next spring to meet this woman, the one you're seeing. We can meet her this weekend and that's perfect timing because we're going to the Maciases' lake house next weekend and then there's the wedding for what's-her-name's daughter, the one with the unfortunate avocado allergy. No guacamole at that wedding, I'm guessing. But this is the best timing and I can't wait to meet this lucky lady of yours. What's her name? You know what, why don't you give me her number. I'll give her a call and introduce myself. We'll get along famously, I know it."
"I'm gonna need you to slow down there, Bonnie," I ordered. "Slow way down. These are some high octane plans. I understand that's your mode of operation but I'm going to need you to dial it back several notches. Things with this woman—"
"At least tell me her name," Mom begged.
"Annette," I replied. "Things with Annette are new. I need some time before I unleash the full force of Bonnie on her."
She sniffed but I knew she wasn't offended. She wasn't one quick to take offense. "Jackson, did you hear yourself? You said she came into your life and you couldn't look away." She huffed out a sigh. "I can appreciate that you
want me to slow down even if it doesn't sound like you're heeding that advice. I want to get her on the phone, have a little chat. I want to know all about her, her work, her family. So many questions. And I'd like to find out how many grandbabies she's going to give me."
I leaned my forehead against the refrigerator as I groaned. What have I done?
"We'd love to meet her, Jackson. Don't you think it would be great if we drove up for a visit?" she asked. "We'll take it easy, I swear. It's just that you've never said anything like this before and I want to meet the woman who caught your attention."
"This weekend might be a bit soon. I'm not sure where this is going or if it's going to last. Give me a month," I said, but quickly thought better of it. "Or two."
"You're such a pragmatist," she said, a bit exasperated.
"Someone has to be," I murmured.
"Are you sure I can't call her?" Mom pressed. "Just a quick chat to let her know how excited I am to meet her. When I'm allowed. In a month or two."
"Put the guilt trip away," I said. "When the time is right, I'll make sure you get your fill of Annette."
"It's like you don't even trust me to place a phone call," she said. "You must like her if you don't want me embarrassing you with stories about you being the fattest baby in upstate New York."
"While I'm sure she'd love a story about my baby pudge, she's really busy," I said, hedging. "She owns her own business and has been teaching herself to bake and I'm trying to take as much of her free time as she'll—"
"Oh my god, I love her already," Mom said with a yelp. "Jackson, I'm so happy for you. This is the first woman you've mentioned in ages and I just want to give her the biggest hug because I know she's special to you."
"Yeah, she is," I agreed, smiling to myself. "I hate to cut this short but I have to hit the streets and check on my town, Mom."
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