Stolen Nights (The Stolen Series Book 1)

by Renee Harless

  “I like your room,” I say as I take a step closer to her.

  “Thanks,” she replies, and I can imagine the slight blush that is rushing on her cheeks.

  Her pink tongue slips between her lips, coating them in moisture, and they immediately draw my attention. I’m spellbound. Without vacillation, I prop one knee onto her bed and then the other. As I crawl toward her, she pushes her sheet away exposing her body covered in the same outfit from the other morning. A color that almost matches her porcelain skin.

  I don’t move on top of her as she probably expects, but I lie beside her, forcing her to turn her body toward me. One arm bends at the elbow and I prop up my head so I’m looking down at her slightly and my other hand reaches out and rests against her waist. I massage the material covering her body and then slip underneath to stroke her soft skin.

  I want to explore her and I will, but now at this very moment, I want to taste her again. I need to get my hit. Using my strength, I tug her the remaining distance, that minimal twelve inches between us, and cradle her body against mine.

  “Are you going to kiss me now?” she asks, and I find myself chuckling again. This girl has me laughing more in the past two days than I have in weeks, months.

  “Is that what you’ve been waiting for?” I reply as I trail my hand up toward her breast, the tip of my finger stroking against the skin on the side and then moving back down to rest on her waist.

  “It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” she admits shyly, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.

  Tilting my head toward her, I watch as she closes her eyes in anticipation of my kiss. Instead, I tease her by brushing my lips against the corner of her mouth and then pressing a kiss to her jawline. “Tell me. Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

  As I continue kissing every angle of her jaw and her face she says, “I’ve been thinking about how perfect your lips felt against mine. How you tasted. How I have never been kissed like that before.”

  “And how is that?” I ask as I kiss her closed eyelids, smirking when a soft sigh escapes between her lips.

  “Like it was a fairytale. Like the world stopped. Time stood still. The everything blurred around me.”

  “Really?” I ask pulling back. I’m impressed that she dared to admit how she felt during our kiss. I’m even more surprised that she feels the same as I do. I don’t want to admit that this could be the start of something more. I’m not that inexperienced in relationships to think that a kiss is the foundation for a relationship. But with Elle, it sure feels that way.

  “I’m sorry. Does that freak you out?” Elle doesn’t look embarrassed by her proclamation and I guess that’s because she has nothing to lose by it.

  “It should,” I admit, “but it doesn’t.”

  Moving my hand from her waist I snake it into her hair, tightening my fingers into a fist as I pull her head toward me. Her eyes close again and I join her as I seal our lips together. And just as they have the past two times, the world and all of my worries fall away. Elle weaves me into her fantasy and I can’t pull free. Not that I want to. I’ve never wanted to be lost in a fairytale more than right at this moment.

  She moans into my mouth and rocks against me as our tongues weave and explore each other’s mouths, taking turns in their journey. Without refrain, I pull my hand free from her hair and stroke down her back until I find one of the succulent globes of her bottom, the ass I have been admiring since she moved in more than a month ago. With zero preamble, I squeeze the rounded globe as I slide one of my legs between hers. She’s rocking against me like a teenager getting off for the first time. I haven’t dry humped in years, the women I’m with usually go straight toward the end game, but not Elle. She’s going to take me for everything I’m worth. And I don’t give a damn at all.

  Against my leg I can feel her wetness growing, seeping through her panties and silk shorts. It’s a heady feeling knowing that I can do this to her, for her.

  “Jackson,” she moans as I let my hand slip between her legs from behind.

  “You like that?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

  “Yes,” she replies breathlessly. One of her hands slips across my bare chest feeling my muscles quiver under her touch and I have to stifle back my growl.

  Suddenly I have the strong desire to taste her, to see if she is as sweet as those concoctions she creates. I use my strength to roll her onto her back and I slip down her body tugging her shorts and panties with me.

  “I want to kiss you,” I proclaim as I hold up one of her feet, her ankle a few inches from my mouth.

  “I thought you were kissing me,” she jests, and I smile in return.

  “I want to kiss you here,” I say as I place a kiss on her ankle and then move a bit higher on her leg and add, “And here.”

  I continue my path until I’m so close to her center that I can smell her heat, then I move to the other leg and repeat the motion. I watch in fascination as her hands begin to grip the bed as I continue to move closer and closer to her apex.

  Finally, I place a soft kiss on her bare mound and my name is nothing more than a breath from her lips. I run my nose against her clit and she stills as if no man has ventured to this part of her before. But that can’t be, right? She’s gorgeous. Any man in his right mind would be praying that she let him go down on her like this. I know I feel honored to have the privilege.

  “You smell amazing,” I say reverently, tracing one of my fingers through her folds, her body still remaining frozen beneath me.

  “Relax, Elle. I’m going to make you feel good.”

  “I’ve never. No one has ever-” she trails off, her embarrassment palpable in the room.

  “Hey, I can stop if you’re uncomfortable,” I explain, even though that is the last thing I want to do.

  “No,” she rushes out. “Please don’t stop. It’s just. . . new, that’s all.”

  I run my finger through her slick folds again and she shivers beneath my touch. “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” she gasps as I circle her clit peeking out from behind its hood.

  I remove my fingers and wait for her attention to fall on me before I lick my fingers clean as she watches. A growl escapes from deep in my chest as her flavor lands on my tongue, the perfect combination of sweet and salty, just like I had imagined.

  “Your ex is an idiot if he never put his mouth on you. You’re delectable. And I’m not just saying that.”

  “Mmm,” she murmurs as I lean back down and slip my tongue against her sex.

  I continue to lick and savor her flavor until her legs quake beneath my hands.

  “Are you close, sweetheart?” I ask, and she replies with a gasp.

  “So close.”

  Slipping a finger into her sex, I suck on her clit, mimicking the motion of my hand until she is calling out my name.

  “Jackson,” she softly cries into the bedroom, a breeze whipping through the curtain brushing against our bodies.

  Beneath me her languid body relaxes and sinks into the mattress. She looks up to me with a look on her face, a look I can’t quite distinguish, but it sends a spark of fear through me. I thought I was prepared for this, for some sort of relationship. But fear claws at me. I’m not cut out for a pre-made family, am I? I’d screw it up. I’d screw her up more than she already is. I’d screw up those kids’ lives. God, how can she even trust me around them?

  I vault off the bed as if it’s electrified me.

  “I can’t do a relationship.”

  She looks at me confused as if she hadn’t considered the thought, which actually angers me more.

  “Okay. . . I never asked.”

  My hand runs through my hair as I take in her perfect body lying on the bed.

  “This can only be sex, Elle.”

  “Okay,” she agrees again, and I nod before heading back to the window.

  “You can use the door you know,” she jokes as she watches me keenly, one arched brow cocked u
pward.

  Instead, I hop through the window and turn around to look back at her.

  “Lock this up behind me. You don’t want anyone else slipping in,” I say a bit more harshly than I intended.

  “I can take care of myself, Jackson,” she replies in the same tone.

  “I want your lips on my cock next time,” I add, just to see how much more I can rile her up. It’s my new favorite game.

  “You assume there will be a next time.”

  “Oh, there most definitely will be. Your pussy loves me.”

  “Why do you have to be so vile?” she asks shocked.

  “You don’t like the word pussy?”

  “Only when it refers to a cat,” she adds as she moves out of bed and leans out the window toward me.

  I move closer, our faces only a few inches apart.

  “I think you like it when I whisper it in your ear as I’m fucking you with my fingers.”

  “You’ll never know,” she says coyly, her eyes narrowing toward me.

  My hand moves to her jaw and I cup her cheek in my palm, loving the way her soft skin feels in my hand. She closes her eyes, her body leaning toward me reflexively. My lips meet hers in a gentle kiss, a goodnight, a goodbye.

  “Goodnight, Elle.”

  “Night, Jackson,” she replies as I step away from her window and head across the yard.

  Maybe her tearing down that fence is the best thing that could have happened, but I sure as hell won’t be telling her that anytime soon.

  Chapter Seven – Elle

  My parents made the four-hour drive to our home today to celebrate Kennedy’s fourth birthday. They’re all outside, Noah showing Nana and Pop-pop their new playset. And apparently they’re all on the hunt for pirates. My dad offers to watch out for the small bounce house that I’m having delivered for a few of Kennedy’s friends from her weekly playgroup.

  The kids are great, the moms? Not so much. I haven’t heard from Dan, but I’m hopeful that he and Sky, though it pains me, will attend the party. Today is Kennedy’s actual birthday and all she’s asked for is a unicorn and her Daddy. It breaks my heart when I have to tell her that he lives in a different place now. She and Noah get to visit him once a month, but Sky refuses to let them visit at their old house. So far they’ve been to the library for reading time and that lasted about an hour.

  I finish placing the pointed sugar cone on top of the cake shaped like a unicorn and take a step back. I’m pretty impressed with my creation if I do say so myself.

  I smell him before I see him as Jackson steps through my open backdoor into the kitchen. After our night together last weekend I could spot his scent in a room of perfume. A bit manly, a bit woodsy, with a hint of fig. It’s weird, but that’s what I sense, and I want to bottle it up. I should probably sneak into his house and figure out what kind of soap he uses so I can keep some in my home.

  After he snuck away from my bedroom the other night, I laid awake for hours. It’s actually when I concocted the idea for the cake. But it wasn’t just that. I was drunk on his kisses and high from his touch. My body tingled until the early hours of the morning when I finally caught an hour or two of shut-eye.

  “Hey,” he says from behind, his strong body sidling up against me. I didn’t expect his touch so soon, since we had kind of ended things oddly last week and we haven’t seen each other since.

  “Hey, what do you think?” I ask, wanting his opinion on the unicorn head cake covered in white buttercream with a mane of pink and purple.

  “You made that?” he asks in amazement as he steps around me and skirts around the island taking in all of its glory.

  “I did. It came to me after you left last weekend.”

  “So I was a form of inspiration for this masterpiece,” he states matter-of-factly. “I believe I deserve some sort of reward.”

  I watch the smirk grow on his face as he takes in my appearance from my toes to the top of my head.

  “Aren’t you already getting payment in the form of kisses?”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure we could renegotiate new terms.” He takes a step closer to me, bridging the already narrow gap between us.

  “What kind of terms?” I inquire as his hand snakes around my waist as the other boxes me in against the counter.

  “The kind where I find myself sneaking into your room as often as I’d like.”

  “I think that could be negotiable.” I boldly lean into him, pressing our bodies together, our lips only a breath apart.

  The patter of tiny feet makes themselves known as they pounce onto the deck quickly followed by my parents.

  I step away from Jackson just as Noah and Kennedy slide into the house.

  “Mommy, Mommy! The bouncy house is here!” Noah cries out enthusiastically while Kennedy’s stare is riveted on the unicorn cake.

  “Is that for me?” she whispers in astonishment.

  Bending my knees, I squat down to her level. “It is. Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful!” she exclaims, her thin arms wrapping around my neck, burying her face into my shoulder.

  “Only the best for my princess.” Pulling back, I stand up and motion toward two cups of water I set aside for the kids and ask them to take a few sips before going back outside to play. I also remind them not to mess with the men putting up the bouncy house.

  They scurry back outside to my parents and I turn back around to find Jackson squirting some of the remaining icing from the dispenser into his mouth. I admonish him with my gaze, you know – the “Mom look” – and he merely shrugs his shoulders and squirts a little more.

  “Seems a shame for it to go to waste.”

  Laughing, I grab a few of the individual cupcakes I had baked and shove one in his direction.

  “Instead of eating it, why don’t you make yourself useful?”

  His eyes widen in terror as if I’ve asked him to perform brain surgery.

  “It doesn’t have to look nice, Jackson. I’m covering them in sprinkles and glitter.”

  His stare of horror doesn’t waiver.

  “Please?” I whisper as I daringly press a small kiss to the corner of his chin.

  “Fine,” he huffs.

  “Here,” I begin as I place a cupcake in front of me and the pink frosting dispenser in my hand, “watch what I do.”

  I’ve already loaded the tips for the icing, so I simply swirl the frosting around the cupcake. Easy peasy. Jackson begins to decorate his cupcake, slowly rotating the dispenser around the top to mimic my design.

  “Hey, I did it!” he announces joyfully, and I can’t say that I’m surprised that his cupcake looks like a mirror image of my own.

  “That looks great. You may have a calling as my assistant if you are ever looking for another job.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Do you want me to help with the others?” he asks excitedly, and I bring over the pan containing ten more cupcakes.

  It doesn’t take long before we’re done and covered in edible glitter and icing remnants. I’m standing at the sink trying to wash it off my hands and arms when I feel a pair of soft lips press against my bare shoulder.

  “Jackson,” I whisper as I peek out the window above the sink looking for the location of my parents. That’s all I would need today is for them to walk in on Jackson and me. I’d never hear the end of the pestering.

  “Sorry, you have some glitter here,” he says, and then he presses another kiss to the side of my exposed neck. “And here.”

  “You know,” I exhale as I close my eyes and lean against him, the water still pouring from the faucet. “For someone that doesn’t like me, you sure can’t seem to keep your lips to yourself.”

  He’s now at the skin right below my ear, a space that I didn’t realize could send a spark straight to my lady-bits if kissed the way Jackson is doing now. A lick, a nip, a kiss. A constant rotation of pain and pleasure.

  “My lips have a mind of their own. No use controlling them,” he replies, and I vaguel
y notice that he doesn’t respond to still disliking me.

  “What else can your lips do?”

  At my question his hands slip under my shirt and reach upward, cupping my breasts through my plain cotton bra. Now I wish I had put something more feminine on this morning, but Jackson doesn’t seem to mind as he tugs the cups down and exposes my breasts.

  “I think you know what my lips can do,” he replies, and then he slides my nipples between his two fingers as a deep growl sounds from his chest instantly, exciting my body. “Fuck. Turn around.”

  Jackson doesn’t wait for me to move. Instead, he spins my body with his own hands, bringing my body against his. Before I even have a chance to realize what is taking place, one of his strong hands slides around the back of my thigh and slips underneath my cutoff jean shorts and panties bringing his fingers to my slick center. His other hand cups the back of my neck and brings our mouths together in a fevered kiss.

  His fingers thrust in and out of my core. He’s not gentle, instead he’s pushing at a punishing pace, and if I weren’t so wet and needy for him, it would be painful. Instead,it’s not nearly enough. I want more. More of his touch, more of his kisses, just more of Jackson.

  “You’re so wet, Elle,” he whispers against my lips.

  “I’m so close,” I cry out as I rock my hips against his hand seeking my release.

  I throw my head back as I get closer to my pinnacle and I know I just barely escaped from banging my head on the upper cabinets.

  “Yes,” I whisper when I’m within reach, and then I hear a cry out the window and all movement stops.

  Orgasm long forgotten, I rush out of Jackson’s hold without a backward glance and make my way through the yard to find Noah on the ground holding his knee.

  It takes a few minutes to clean him up and learn that he was trying to jump out of the swing but missed his landing. When I return to the house, I notice that Jackson is long gone. Somehow I missed him leaving. Which means I need to finish decorating and get myself ready with my body aching to finish what he started. Usually, I’d take care of it myself but I just won’t have the time today.