“Jackson?” I ask him again. He’s staring off and seems lost. Leaning up I touch his face. “You okay?” The concern is evident in my tone.
“Just remembering something that bothered me. I’m fine,” he says, trying to dismiss my worry.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
Jackson nods and closes his eyes, “Natalie called yesterday.”
And there it is.
“She said you guys talked the other day too, right?”
Since Aaron’s passing I’ve grown close to his wife, Natalie. We spoke once while Jackson was in the hospital and since then I speak to her every few days. At first, she didn’t want to speak to Jackson or Mark. I understood, considering they were his closest friends, but she said they used the same phrases and it hurt too much. So we talk about life, her pregnancy, and how she wants to go back to work. My heart breaks the most when she tells me about what life is like as a widow and how much she prays this baby will be a boy.
Jackson pulls me onto his leg and attempts to get comfortable. “I sent a large check and arranged the plane to pick up her parents to bring them in. I don’t want her to have to worry about anything. She’s due this week. Mark has been keeping in touch, but he said she doesn’t want to see any of us.”
I can’t even begin to imagine the pain she’s in. Plus, I remember when Neil’s sister was pregnant, she was a mess. Crying over toilet paper commercials and then the next minute she was screaming over the way you buttered toast. I wish there was more that we could do for Natalie, but she refused to do a memorial or anything until after the baby is born. I sit and listen to him as he finally starts to open up about Aaron and his death.
“It should’ve never happened. I want to do more for her. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I know some of the military wives down there have brought food and things over. But he should be there with her.”
“I know. It was senseless and tragic, but you can’t make Natalie want your help.” It’s unfortunate but true. She needs to be ready, and if being near Mark or talking to Jackson is too hard on her then they need to respect that. “She really does seem to be doing better. At least she’s talking to you guys now.”
Jackson rubs the side of my face and closes his eyes. “I just know if Aaron were here, he’d want his brothers to step up. He’d want us to take care of them. She asked us to arrange everything for him, do a memorial and then a burial. He has a plot in Pennsylvania. Will you be there?”
Without hesitation I respond, “Jackson, you don’t even have to ask. I promise I’ll be there. No matter what.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to ask if I’ll stand by you. If you need me, I’m here.”
He lies on the blanket and I scoot up so I can curl into his arm. Jackson grabs our books and hands them to me, letting me know he’s done and needs to stop talking. The struggle is evident and I don’t want to push him too far.
We both get lost in other worlds, mine of course is about love, while he reads some suspense novel. But we enjoy the solace and the fact that we’re here—together.
After about an hour, Jackson starts to get restless and starts shifting and grunting.
“You ready?” I ask, knowing either his pain meds are wearing off or he’s asleep.
Jackson lifts his head and looks around. “I’m awake,” he says, clearly caught napping.
I giggle and start to get up and put our things in the basket.
“Since you somehow cheated and won the other bet, how about we just let you take what’s left of my balls and go to the boats?” Jackson half-laughs and half-snorts.
“There’s a lot of truth in that statement, but I’ll let you decide which part I mean.”
I’m enjoying this winning thing.
“When I first moved to this part of the city I used to come here with Garrett and race him.”
“Garrett?” I don’t remember anyone by that name.
“You met him. He was at dinner the night we met. Not that you stuck around long enough to really meet anyone, but he’s Mark’s older brother,” Jackson explains while he tries to get up, but he winces and stops.
I put all the stuff down and get behind him. “Let me help you,” I say gently, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he needs help.
“You just want to touch my body.”
“You know it,” I reply, hoping he’ll play along.
We get up pretty easily and he grips the walker and puts his leg on the seat. Only one more week and he will be able to start walking with crutches. His arm is almost fully mobile, and he’s growing stronger and moving much more easily.
Jackson and I play for about an hour at the boat pond. I can’t for the life of me understand how the man has the drive to make anything a competition. The pond is filled with other boats but there he is trying to maneuver a tiny battery operated boat that doesn’t go more than two miles per hour. I let him win since I had no idea what in the world the rules were.
“At least I win this round,” Jackson boasts and pulls me against him, kissing the top of my head.
“Yeah,” I say without any enthusiasm. “You sure showed me. I’m buying the tickets to the play for tomorrow.”
“We’re going to pretend this isn’t happening. Since you cheated.” Jackson places a kiss against my temple and then grabs my hand. “Let’s go home. I have some plans for you.”
Home. Even he’s calling it home when we talk about it. As much as it thrills me that he’s so comfortable with me in his home, there’s a small part of me terrified we’re moving too fast. So much has happened and yet we’ve skipped the whole getting to know each other stage and fell into the living together stage. I don’t doubt my feelings or his, I only want to make sure we don’t screw this up.
We walk the block to his apartment with my arm draped around his waist. “I hope those plans include food and maybe ice cream,” I say as my stomach growls.
Jackson’s eyes dance with mischief. “I fully intend on eating.”
It takes me a second to understand the look on his face. “Oh my God! Jackson!” I laugh and he joins me.
“What? I ordered take-out.”
“Sure, that’s what you were insinuating.”
“I’m a gentleman,” he says as we enter the lobby of his building.
“Right, and I’m an angel,” I say and board the elevator.
He maneuvers us into the corner and spins his walker so I’m in between his arms, making it impossible for me to move. “Did you have something else in mind?”
My tongue swipes across my lips and Jackson’s eyes track the movement. “I could be open for suggestions.”
His arm slides a little lower and it amazes me that even injured he can find a way to seduce me. “Hmmm,” he says as the distance between us closes.
It takes every ounce of restraint to let him lead and not maul him. The rise and fall of my chest has his attention as my nipples pebble. His scent of crisp linen and cologne overwhelms me and I want nothing more than to be surrounded by him. I’ve never been more happy about the lack of that arm sling than in this moment when he snakes his other arm around my neck and one around my back and carefully pulls me flush against him. “I’m going to love you, and then I’m going to make you pay for toying with me all day.” The sound of promise in his voice causes heat to pool in my core.
And he’s back.
The doors open and he turns, leaving me in a puddle on the floor. I don’t know what I look forward to … the punishment or the love.
“You coming?” Jackson calls over his shoulder.
Oh, I hope so.
I smile and when I turn to close the door, I feel his heat against my back. “Games are over,” Jackson says against my neck as his mouth finds purchase against my shoulder. His mouth moves slowly as he rains kisses against my exposed back.
Sensually, he moves the straps from one side down, giving him the access he wants, and my hands press against the door. “Stay like this,” Jackson commands when I try to turn.
“I want to feel you,” I reply in a whisper. It feels so good being cocooned by his warmth. His arms give me safety like they always do. With him, I’m stronger—we’re stronger.
Jackson grips my wrist holding it above my head and his other hand wraps my arm around his neck giving him control. I could easily break from his hold. The hand that holds me is his bad arm and I know he doesn’t have much strength, but I know he needs this. The feeling of some kind of power when his life has been anything but in control. “I’m not asking. Stay put.” His voice is steel wrapped in velvet.
His hands lower to my hips and his hand snakes up my shirt as he pulls it up over my head.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply over my shoulder.
He kisses his way from my shoulder to my neck. Moving slowly until he reaches my mouth. Jackson’s hand grips my head and he pulls me into him. I turn as much as possible into the kiss. My brain ceases to exist as I spin and clutch myself to him and he winces.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he grips his leg that’s resting on the chair. “I just—”
“Shut up and kiss me,” he says as he grabs me and slams his mouth on mine.
And I do. I kiss him relentlessly. Pouring myself into him and taking all he gives me. When our mouths collide, everything else fades away.
I feel his hands twine up my back as he unhooks my bra and my breasts fall free. His hands cup me and gently massage them while rolling my nipples in his fingers before pulling on them. I gasp as pleasure fills my body and I struggle to keep upright.
Jackson grips my hand and pulls me along while maneuvering himself through the apartment into his bedroom. “As much as I’d love to fuck you against the wall again,” he smiles while tugging me to him, “I don’t think I’m strong enough for it yet. So get on the bed.”
I grin while unbuttoning my shorts and let them fall to the ground exposing myself to him. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me,” I say as I hook my fingers in my purple thong and slowly slide it down. “Won’t you?” I watch his pupils dilate and his eyes rake my body.
“Fuck yeah I will. Now, stop talking.”
When he’s like this I feel incredible. Every part of me lights up and I come to life. He elicits this power and raw sensuality from me. I feel bold, beautiful, and more than anything—enough. There’s never a time I feel as though I’m lacking with him.
“Tonight, nothing else exists but us,” Jackson says as he takes his shirt off.
Now it’s my time to stare. Even with his scars, he’s perfect. If anything, they make me want him more. Jackson wears his wounds and lives. It reminds me of all that he is and how I wouldn’t change a thing. Does it scare me that he could return overseas? Of course. To know the man I love could go and possibly not return scares me more than I care to admit. But when I spoke to Natalie last week, she said something that spoke to my soul. She said, “Even if I could go back and tell Aaron not to go, I wouldn’t. This is who he was. He was a soldier, a fighter, a hero, and he needed this. It fed his world. The fact that someone else didn’t die and he had to bear that cross—it’s what he would’ve wanted.”
Jackson’s deep voice breaks my thoughts, “Catherine, stay with me. Only me.” He links our fingers and pulls me to the bed.
I climb up and settle on my side while he gets situated so he’s facing me. His fingers glide up and down my ribs as we gaze at each other.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“About us, about how I wasn’t sure I’d ever have you back again.” Jackson’s voice grows shaky at the end and I close my eyes.
“I think somehow we’d have found a way. But promise me you’ll never walk away like that again.”
“You don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere,” he says as our lips touch. Our tongues meet and my hands roam his glorious body.
My fingers trace the ridges on his arms then around to his back as we explore each other slowly and completely. There’s no rushing. We savor each other as if this is our last time—or first.
The feel of his hands on my stomach causes the moisture to pool as I envision him going lower. “Jackson,” I moan as his hand sinks lower and he rubs small circles on my clit.
I grip his cock in my hand and begin to stroke him, feeling him grow against my touch. “I want to feel your mouth wrapped around my dick,” Jackson says against my neck as he thrusts a finger into my pussy.
The sound of my groan reverberates through the room as I imagine taking him. Giving him pleasure while he’s merciless to my touch. Knowing I have the physical ability to do just that, I move and feel his loss inside, but I grow even wetter preparing for what I’m about to do. “You asked for it.” I smile when he quirks his eyebrow and leans on his back.
Holding the base of his cock, I lick him from root to tip, enjoying the way the muscles tighten in his legs as I run my tongue around the top. His hands grip the sheet as I continue to torment him, refusing to take him into my mouth. I palm his balls and roll them in my hand and he thrusts upward. Once again I rim my tongue before taking him deep in my mouth.
“Yes …” Jackson hisses when I hollow out my mouth. His hand threads in my hair as I sink back down taking him into my throat. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I take my time and tease him, enjoying every sound or word that escapes him. It spurs me on, wanting to give him the pleasure he always makes me feel. I bob my head and his grip tightens letting me know he’s starting to lose control. I pull up and release him from my mouth, needing to finish what we started together. “I want to feel you,” I say breathlessly.
“Lie down.”
“That’s not a good—”
“Lie down, Catherine. I’m going to love you this time,” Jackson says as he cradles my head in his hands. “Now, let me.”
Against my better judgment, I lie on my back. He slowly and carefully measures each movement, climbing on top of me. This is the most weight he will have put on his arm since the shooting. The fear is evident in my eyes and he smiles letting me know he’s okay.
“If it becomes too much, do you promise you’ll tell me?” I ask him, trying to quell my nerves. I don’t want to see him back in the hospital because he needed to prove something to himself.
“It’s always too much with you, baby.” He lowers his lips to mine. “You make me lose control because I can’t think of anything else but you.” Jackson’s tongue traces the shell of my ear as he continues to seduce me with his words. “When I’m inside you, all I feel is your heat, I feel your breaths, and I fucking love every second. Now,” Jackson pauses as I feel him start to enter me, “I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars. Hang on, baby.” He thrusts forward before I have a second to consider what he said and all I feel is him. I’m filled by him and it’s heaven.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I say. Even though we’ve been together a few times, there’s been a part of him holding back. Not now, though. He’s everywhere, the energy around us, not allowing me to see or feel anything but him.
Jackson moves slowly as he hovers and pushes deeper. “Look at me.”
My eyes shift to his and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. He rocks back and forth while staring into my eyes as we become one in every sense of the word. Our souls touch, and moisture builds in my eyes from the pure beauty of the moment. Before the tears can descend he kisses them away and I fight the urge to sob. I’m so overcome with emotion I feel as if my heart is going to beat right out of my chest.
His mouth lowers and he kisses me. I close my eyes and feel everything. The love, the anger, the hurt, and I give myself permission to feel it all. I know he has me and won’t let me fall. Jackson will keep me safe even if it’s from myself.
“You’re fucking made for me. You feel so good, I can’t think.”
He moves sinuously, driving me higher and I fight the emotional high as well. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, but I don’t want it to end. Every second with him feels incredible. Each thrust of his hips fills me with love.
After a few minutes, I can’t fight the need to release any longer. I start to set the pace for him from the bottom. I grind my hips as he starts to moan and shake subtly. We’re both so close to the edge.
“So close. I’m so c-close,” I stutter as I rotate my hips cautiously.
“I’m not going to last much longer,” Jackson says through clenched teeth as the sweat builds on his forehead.
Gliding my own hand lower, I start to circle my clit and Jackson groans when he realizes what I’m doing.
“Fuck, Catherine.”
“I’m coming. Now,” I cry out and fall over the edge as Jackson grunts and finishes with me. He lies on top of me panting and we’re both covered in sweat, but I couldn’t care less in this minute. I could stay like this forever with him.
“You ready, babe?” I call out to Jackson who is purposely taking his sweet ass time.
“No, I think we’ll have to just skip it.”
“Jackson Cole! You lost the bet. You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to take me to see The Lion King.” I saunter into his bedroom and he’s lying on the bed.
I’m gonna beat him.
“Are you serious right now?” I ask staring at him fully dressed, incredibly sexy, and almost good enough to pass up on the musical. But not quite.
Jackson groans and rolls to his side, “I’m injured. I can’t go.”
“You’re going to be injured. The doorman said the cab is waiting.”
His lip juts out and it’s so cute, I lean forward and kiss him. He makes me smile even when I want to slap him.
“What was that for?” he asks with a grin. “Are you telling me you’re going to admit you fixed this stupid game and now you’re coercing me into this awful play with grown men dressed like animals?”
I laugh and shake my head. “We’re going.”
Jackson grunts and I suppress a laugh. He’s so cute when he’s not driving me insane. “You know, I was shot. Three times. I think this should score me some sympathy points.”
I tap my forefinger on my chin. “Let’s see. Since you’re so injured, I think you’re right.”
His face beams but then he narrows his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“And here I thought you were dumb. Let’s go.” I grab my purse and straighten my dress.
Finally, he gets up and looks at me, smiling. There are times where just one look can melt me to my core—this is one. “What?”
“You’re beautiful. Come kiss me, woman.”
With a smile on my lips, I walk over and press them to his. Gingerly, Jackson’s calloused thumb grazes my cheek and I shiver. His touch elicits so many emotions and I pray we never lose this. I want to get lost in him.
“Enough stalling. Come on, Muffin.”
Jackson says something under his breath but I expect it. We exit the apartment and when we get to the street, there’s a black town car waiting.
“I figured the cab wouldn’t want to wait in case I was able to talk you out of this,” Jackson explains with an easy tone.
I shrug and get in the car, “Too bad it didn’t work.”
We settle in the car and Jackson and I talk about the musical a little. Apparently he has no clue what to expect. He’s never been to Broadway before.
“I don’t understand how you can live in Manhattan and never go to the theater.”
“I work. A lot,” he retorts and pulls me against his side. I mold to him and close my eyes feeling the way his rough hand rubs tiny circles on my arm. “Just think, we could be home. Possibly naked. But you wanted to see men in tights.”
The giggle escapes my mouth before I can hold it back. “This isn’t the ballet, although, if you’re interested in seeing it, I’m sure I can get tickets.”
“Not on your best day, sweetheart.”
We pull up to the theater and Jackson grumbles playfully. I’ve never considered myself a sadistic person, but I’m thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. It could be that if I lost he wouldn’t have hesitated at all. I would have had to pay for it, and knowing Jackson, he would’ve found other ways than just no name calling.
“Muffin?” He looks up and his lip curls but then he smiles. “Time to find out about the circle of life.”
“How long are these things?”
“A few hours.”
“Hours?” Jackson asks disbelievingly. “As in more than one?”
I laugh and he pushes the walker forward. “Yes, babe. Like two or three.”
Jackson and I find our seats and get comfortable. As much as I’m happy to be here, there’s so much stuff I need to get done for the launch in a few days. I don’t have much time and I’ve spent a lot dealing with personal things.
“Hey,” Jackson pauses and tilts my chin toward him. “What’s wrong?”
I smile and softly shake my head. “Nothing.”
“If I have to be here, you’re going to be happy.” His lip curls and one eye closes.
Leaning into my seat, I give myself a mental break. Everything will be fine. Right now, I have the man I love sitting at my side and he took me on a date.
“I’m happy. How could I not be? I won.”
He groans and takes my hand in his lap. “Do I get dinner after this?” I ask.
“No, but I did sign us up for the next 5k in town.”
I gasp with my jaw hanging. “I’m not running.”
“Oh, but you are. While I was paying for these lovely tickets, it popped up as an ad. I knew you’d want to support me the way I’m suffering—I mean, enjoying—what we’re doing now.” He rubs his hand on the stubble on his chin.
“I didn’t lose a bet.”
“Neither did I, yet here I am.” Jackson smiles and sits back in his chair.
As the first act begins, Jackson’s arm slides around my back and he pulls me close. I nestle into his side and kiss his neck. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jackson jokes quietly.
The show carries on and I look over at Jackson who laughs at Rafiki’s antics and I would swear I saw a tear in his eyes when Mufasa dies. Of course I’ll never be able to get him to admit it, but I will sure as hell taunt him with it.
The second act is being called and Jackson spent all of intermission explaining why it would be so much fun if we left early.
“That three-mile run is going to be so much fun.”
“You can’t make me run.”
Jackson leans forward and his warm breath blows across my neck. “I can make you want to run.”
“You’d have to do something pretty bad to make me run. Like lie or cheat,” I smile waiting for a witty response.
Jackson’s eyes flash with fear but he recovers quickly enough that I’m not sure that I saw it. Goosebumps form and my stomach tightens. I don’t know what to call the sudden wash of emotion. But I can’t help but worry there’s something lurking.
The lights go out and the stage lights up. I shake off the ominous feeling and I’m lost in the beauty of the colors, the way they brought the African grasslands to life in New York. Jackson and I hold hands through the show and I feel peace. Everything in my life feels right. I have a man I love desperately and he loves me back. I have a job I love more and more each day. And I have amazing friends and Neil is out of my life.
Things are good, and I’m truly and blissfully happy. There’s a small part nagging at me telling me not to get too comfortable, but I’ve been guilty of overreacting before. I suppress it and focus on the good.