Stolen Nights (The Stolen Series Book 1)

by Renee Harless

  I notice his parents’ in their car idling on the street and ask, “Are you not riding with your parents?”

  “I’m thirty-two-years-old. I’m pretty sure it would embarrass my parents as much as it would me, to ride with them.”

  “You’re probably right,” I reply as he opens the driver’s side door. “Thanks. I didn’t know you knew how to be a gentleman.”

  “I’m full of surprises.” Just as he is about to close the door Jackson leans in, whispering in my ear, “You look beautiful in this dress, by the way. I can’t wait to unwrap it and see it on the floor.”

  “Oh, glad you. . .um. . .approve,” I stutter, surprised by the way my heart pounds at his words.

  Jackson doesn’t say anything more. He skirts around the car and slips into the passenger side, then I put the car in drive and head toward Kennedy’s favorite restaurant.

  Halfway through the trip, Jackson takes hold of the hand I have loosely resting on my thigh and twines our fingers together. I try to keep my eyes on the road but the gesture is so unlike him that I find myself glancing down at our hands every so often.

  “You surprise me,” I say as the red, white, and green sign for the pizza place comes into view. I pull my hand away, missing the warmth of his grasp.

  “I surprise myself, Elle,” Jackson replies as he looks out the window, but I don’t miss the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion. He seems as baffled as I am at which Jackson I’m going to get. Either the asshole or the gentleman.

  Trying to change the subject I ask, “Have you been here before?” I realize that it’s on the other side of town, but I don’t know much about Jackson and where he grew up.

  “I haven’t, no.”

  “Well, they have a bit of everything if you don’t want pizza. But it’s the best.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He probably doesn’t even eat pizza since he’s a personal trainer. I hadn’t even considered that when I asked him to join us. Jackson makes a move to exit the car but I grip his forearm with my hand, holding him back.

  “I didn’t think to ask if you can eat Italian food. I can take you somewhere else. Somewhere healthier.”

  “It’s fine, Elle. I can eat whatever I want.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that I should have asked earlier.”

  “If I couldn’t eat anything or didn’t want to come I wouldn’t be here. It’s fine. Plus, it’s for Kennedy’s birthday,” he says as he peers over the back of the seat at Kennedy playing with a Barbie in her carseat. This is the Jackson I like to be around, the sweet and considerate one. “Now, stay there. I’ll come get you,” he commands. There is the asshole, I mentally remind myself and laugh as he opens the door.

  “Something amusing you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  If only he knew the thoughts in my head.

  Chapter Eight – Jackson

  The pizza place is bustling when we enter and I watch in horror as kids rush back and forth in the restaurant, their parents paying them little mind. My head begins to ache at the screaming, reminding me of my pact to remain relationship free, but as I look down at the birthday girl holding my hand, it all ceases to exist. Kennedy looks around the space and her eyes widen when she watches all the kids run about. I notice that her hand tightens in mine and she takes a step closer to me. Noah does the same with his mom as she puts her name down for a table with the young hostess.

  “It seems there is a birthday party going on. It’s going to be a few minutes before we’re seated,” Elle explains as she steps back toward my parents and me.

  My parents take a seat on the bench close to the door and we move to follow, but as I take a step a kid comes out of nowhere and practically plows into Kennedy. Out of instinct, or fear, I haul the little girl up into my arms and hold her close. She immediately rests her head on my shoulder and something inside me shifts. I don’t know if my heart is growing three or four times its size like the green guy’s heart in that Christmas cartoon, or if my need to protect people is coming out in full force, but that constant emptiness I’ve always felt in my chest dissipates. That emptiness that always made me feel that I couldn’t love someone, which is why I broke things off with my girlfriend from high school. I didn’t believe I could do something serious, that I didn’t have it in me. Maybe I had it all along and it took the instant love of a little girl to set the spark.

  “Shit,” I whisper to myself but Kennedy must hear because she whispers back, “Mommy says that’s a bad word.”

  I turn my gaze to look at Elle standing beside the bench where Noah has secured a spot on my Dad’s lap. She looks stunning tonight in that blue dress. It’s simple and classic just like her. I can’t believe she wasted all those years with her ex or that he had the nerve to cheat on her. Elle is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s beautiful without even trying and she doesn’t even know it.

  She must sense my gaze on her because she looks up from her cell phone she had been typing on and locks her gaze on me. I can see in her eyes that watching me hold her daughter is doing something to her. At first I think she’s upset, but her lips part to reveal a beautiful smile. The kind of smile someone has when they’ve won a gold medal or bought their first house or married their soul mate. That kind of smile. And I secretly hope that I’m part of the reason behind it.

  “Table for Knight?” the hostess calls out, and the spell is broken instantly.

  We follow her to a table in the corner, far away from the rest of the screaming kids, thank God. It doesn’t take long for us to order and receive our food. My parents claim that it’s the best pizza they’ve ever had, but I don’t taste any of it. My focus is on Elle and the way she savors each bite of her food. Her eyes closing as she relishes in the flavors, her pink tongue reaching out to taste a morsel on her lips. It’s mesmerizing.

  My mom must catch me staring at Elle across the way because she kicks me with her foot under the table before laughing to herself.

  “Funny, Mom.”

  “I like her, and her kids are so well behaved.”

  She’s right, both Noah and Kennedy sit quietly eating their pizza and coloring a sheet of paper beside Elle.

  Soon everyone is done eating and we say goodbye to my parents, Elle considering their offer of watching the kids sometime. I can tell she’s wary of strangers being around her family, but my parents are already in love with Noah and Kennedy. They are the grandchildren they’ve always wanted.

  Back at the house the kids still seem wired from today. I would have thought they would be ready to crash but apparently for kids, sugar doesn’t work that way.

  “Mister Jackson, can you stay and watch a movie with us?” Noah asks me then turns his attention to his mom requesting the same.

  “Noah, it’s late, and I’m sure Jackson has had enough time with kids today. Plus you both need to take a bath.”

  Time with Elle in the dark? Where can I sign up?

  “What movie are you thinking, Noah?” I interrupt, and I can see that Elle wants to stomp her foot in protest.

  “How to Train Your Dragon?” he asks, hoping I’ll say yes to his version of a cool guy movie.

  “Dragons?”

  “Yes!” he exclaims as he jumps out of the car once we’re in the driveway. “So many dragons. It’s my favorite. Do you like dragons?”

  “What’s not to like about dragons?” I reply, but my question is directed to Elle.

  “Please, Mom. I’ll wash up really good, and we can have popcorn.”

  Apparently popcorn is the way to Elle’s heart since I watch the smile blossom on her lips.

  “Noah, I’m only going to allow this because you start kindergarten in another week and it’s still Kennedy’s birthday. Or it was,” she whispers as she pulls a sleeping Kennedy from her carseat.

  The little boy grumbles as he watches his mom carry his sleeping sister inside their house and I kneel down beside him.

  “Yo
u still want to watch the movie, little man?”

  He nods his head and looks at me with sad eyes.

  “Well, why don’t you go inside, wash yourself, and get ready for bed without asking your mom for help? Then maybe she’ll consider letting you stay up for the movie.”

  “Okay, Mister Jackson.”

  I watch as he scurries off, eager to show how grown up he is and I casually walk into Elle’s house. I haven’t seen the living room for more than a minute and I’m surprised at how lived in it looks. She’s hung pictures on the walls and around the television hangs a few items that look like they came from a barn.

  Is that part of a windmill? Where can you even buy that shit?

  But the strange thing is that it all works, and I like it. It definitely suits her style. On the fireplace mantle sits a heap of pictures. Some of the kids as babies, some of Elle with the kids, some of Elle with the blonde from the other day. Then I focus in on the family picture in the far corner. Elle stands with her hand on each of the kid’s shoulders, Noah and Kennedy a couple of years younger than they are now, and there is a man beside her with his arm wrapped around her gripping her shoulder tightly. You can almost see the grimace on her face beneath that smile. So this is Dan, the man that cheated on his wife with her best friend and knocked her up.

  I’m not sure how long I’m standing in front of the picture but Noah comes bounding into the room wearing a pair of Star Wars pajamas.

  “Oh,” Elle says as she walks into the room carrying what looks like a DVD in her hand. “I wasn’t sure if you were serious about staying.”

  “Of course I’m staying. There are dragons involved,” I reply and I watch in fascination as Noah cracks up laughing, practically falling off his seat on the couch.

  Elle gets the DVD set up and I take the seat next to Noah.

  We don’t even get to the point where Noah requests the popcorn because after ten minutes into the movie he passes out against me, his tiny body molded against my side.

  “Well, that didn’t last long,” I whisper to Elle, breaking her focus on the movie.

  She turns her gaze to me and then looks at Noah, a soft smile on her lips.

  “I didn’t think it would. He wants to be a big kid so bad and I just want him to stay little forever.”

  I run my hand through Noah’s soft brown hair and wonder what it felt like when he was born. Was it just as soft or has it changed as he has grown?

  “They all grow up sometime. Do you want me to carry him to bed?”

  “That’s okay. I like to carry him while he’ll still let me.” She smiles as she stands and bends down to lift Noah against her body, his body morphing around hers.

  I follow behind her as she carries him into his room and stand in the doorway as she tucks him in. It feels surreal to be here watching this moment between them but I’m powerless to turn away.

  “You have really good kids,” I say to her as she steps out of the room and closes the door.

  “Thanks.” She gazes up at me and bites her lip nervously. “Do you. . .do you want to stay?”

  I can see how much bravery it took her to ask the question, her fear of rejection palpable around her. Instead of giving her a response I lean forward and kiss her. The spark of attraction between us is just as powerful today as it was that first moment she called me an asshole.

  Her arms wrap around my neck as she presses her body against me. Reaching out, I grip her thighs with my hands and lift her up, forcing her to wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist. I can feel her hot core as she rests against my waist, the heat seeping through my shirt to my skin. I moan as I imagine how it will feel against my cock.

  We move toward the other end of the hall where I know her bedroom is located, but before we get there some primal instinct inside of me takes over. In the hallway just outside her door, I slam her body against the wall and pull away from her mouth with our hips still joined.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I tell her as I take in her mussed hair and puffy pink lips.

  Her hands are braced against the wall as I rock against her body once, eliciting that beautiful moan I want to hear from her lips. I kiss her again, the need to taste her overpowering me. Her fingers pause at the edge of my shirt, her uncertainty reminding me that she’s not as experienced as my past lovers.

  “Touch me, Elle,” I whisper against her mouth, my restraint about to snap like a rubber band.

  Her eyes widen as she gazes at me, our stare penetrating the last of her fear. I can tell when she gives in to her desire because that tongue I’ve become addicted to peeks out between her lips just as her fingers reach inside my shirt caressing the soft skin at my back. My grip tightens around her thighs, my control slowly slipping, then I’m pulling her away from the wall and I can hear myself murmuring something about a bed.

  Somehow I make it into the bedroom with her lips pressed against my neck. Her bed is neatly made, and normally I would feel bad for tossing her on top of the fresh linens, but my need for her is overpowering.

  I fling her in the middle of the bed, her body bouncing a few times before it settles. Reaching behind my head, I tug my shirt over my body and throw it aimlessly into the room. Her gasp of air doesn’t go unnoticed and I smirk as she realizes that I’ve heard it. I toe off my shoes and socks before placing a knee on the bed and then the other, crawling over her perfect body still covered by her dress.

  I press a kiss to one of her bent knees and continue my path until I’m kneeling between her legs.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I say as I tug on the bow resting at her waist.

  The dress falls open in front of me and it’s like Christmas day. Her glowing white skin glistens in the moonlight shining through the window. I lean over her and inspect the black lace that covers her breasts and the pair of matching panties that do the same with her mound. Her soft breasts heave behind their entrapment and I long to free them, but my attention is quickly replaced as I feel the soft touch of her fingers on my arm. My hold almost releases at her gentleness.

  I can feel the groan building in my chest as her fingers move up my bicep and across my shoulder before trailing down to my chest.

  “I never imagined your skin would be so soft. Everything about you is so hard,” she whispers, and she's right. I am hard. My cock is pulsating beneath my jeans begging for its escape.

  Bending my elbows, I frame her face with my arms and lean down to kiss her sweet lips. I’m so addicted to her taste I could kiss her for eternity. Elle’s fingers slide up and down my back as she responds to my kiss, her body becoming more pliant beneath me. Releasing one of my arms, I slide it between our bodies until I come in contact with her already wet panties. I love that I don’t even have to touch her for her to be wet and ready for me.

  I stroke her a few times on the outside, her body shivering with each pass, then I slip underneath the material and feel the instant heat of her body’s response to me.

  “Jackson,” she whispers against my lips as I stroke my fingers through her slick folds.

  She shyly reaches for the button on my jeans, her fingers fumbling as she tries to release the button. My straining cock is already peeking out over the top of my jeans and it jerks every time her hand passes across the tip. I had gone commando this evening, not because I knew that Elle and I would get to this point, but because I had been hopeful.

  Once she has the button unfastened and the zipper down, my erection falls forward seeking out Elle’s sex. Her eyes widen at the size, probably because I’m much larger than her asshole ex, but I can only assume. I am bigger than most guys.

  The surprise in her eyes diminishes quickly as she tentatively wraps her hand around the base of my shaft. Her soft palm against the sensitive skin triggers a growl from deep in my chest.

  Her movements start off slow and erratic. Removing my hand from between her legs, which causes a moan of disapproval from her, I wrap my hand around hers and show her how I like to be stroked – base
to tip with her thumb or palm stroking across the head and coating my erection in the pre-cum.

  I stroke along with her three times and thank fuck she is a quick learner because she eagerly continues the movements on her own while I go back to touching her sex. I slide my fingers through her heat, coating myself in her warmth, and then I slide two fingers inside her before removing them quickly and repeating the motion. It takes her a second, just a moment, to focus on her own pleasure before she realizes that I’m mimicking her strokes on my cock as I thrust my fingers in her body.

  Something about this notion must encourage her because her caresses begin to quicken, the pace almost enough to have me blowing my load too soon.

  “Elle,” I groan as I drop my forehead against hers. “That feels too good, sweetheart. I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

  “Don’t you want to come?” she asks, but her focus is still between our bodies as her hand slowly slides up and down my angry cock.

  “I do, but not like this. I want to be inside you.”

  “Sorry, the skin is so soft, like velvet or suede.”

  Internally, I pray that she stops soon or I won’t be able to control my need to thrust between her legs. My first time with her I planned on being gentle, taking my time, but right now she’s going to sever that piece of thread holding onto my sanity.

  Luckily, as I press the heel of my hand against her clit all of her movements stop as her body trembles beneath me. Her release is quick, surprising both her and me as she grips the sheet beneath her and the base of my cock as she rides it out against my hand. I could stare at her for hours watching her fall over the cliff of pleasure. Her eyes flutter closed as she takes in every sensation and her lips form this perfect “O” before morphing into the tiniest of smiles. It’s captivating. And I want to watch it happen again.