Jackson

Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared up at me from her bed, where had I left her. Alone. Her body wrought with need. Her expression frustrated and annoyed.

She rolled over onto her stomach, pulling in her knees and arching her back. In feline fashion, she raised her body, her back facing me. Slowly and seductively, she reached for the hem of her tank top.

My mouth went dry and my already too-hard cock strained my jeans.

She glanced over her shoulder, puckered those perfect heart-shaped lips, and blew me a kiss.

Off came her tiny tank top.

Her fingers slid into the elastic of her boy shorts.

Then off they came.

She stretched out on the bed like a cat and rolled onto her back. Her hands made their way to her mound, fingering her clit and moaning my name.

“Jackson.” It was a whispered plea.

I forgot the point I was trying to make by withdrawing from her bed to begin with.

I pounced forward, replacing her fingers with the vibrating toy. Her screams were immediate and loud. Her thighs quivered as her pussy gushed. She was practically levitating off the bed from her orgasm.

The expression on her face as she came hard was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.

I wanted to see more.

She created a monster.

I increased the setting on the vibrator, careful not to remove it off her clit. I slid two fingers in her wet tight pussy and thrust hard and fast. Her throat would be raw tomorrow from screaming my name.

It amazed me that the neighbors were not banging on the wall, signifying for us to keep the noise down.

My mouth watered, yearning to feast on her sweet juices.

If I laid my head between her legs, I wouldn't be able to see her face when she came. To watch her pussy clench and coat my fingers with her womanly essence.

Watching the pleasure emanating from not just the expression on her face, but from her entire body had me ready to lose control.

I slowly withdrew my fingers then the vibrator. Her knuckles were white from clutching the comforter. I licked her through her orgasm, elated I was finally able to reward myself with the sweetness that belonged to my Angel.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, tugging on the fabric of my t-shirt. She was completely naked and I somehow managed to stay fully dressed. Her actions suggested she wanted me to reciprocate.

As I brought myself up on my knees, she followed suit. She unbuttoned my jeans while I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside.

Before I had the chance to reach and pull her into my arms, she’d made her way off the bed, pushed me on my back and relieved me of what was left of my clothing.

With a wicked smirk she reached for the vibrator. Nervous anticipation skyrocketed with her lustful eyes feasting on my naked body.

She wrapped her hand around my hard throbbing cock. Her soft velvety smooth hand stroked along every vein with long slow movement. I settled into the soft mattress, enjoying the sensation coursing through me.

She’d gotten under my skin, in my blood. She consumed my soul and controlled my heart. She had the power to crush me. I trusted her so fucking much. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her.

Nothing I wouldn't give her.

Her warm wet mouth covered the top of my cock. She swirled her tongue around my tip.

My hands pulled her hair back, allowing me to watch her crystal blue eyes glisten as she brought me pleasure.

My intentions to keep my eyes on her fell by the wayside the minute she took my cock into her soft wet mouth. Pumping, sucking, licking my head like a lollipop, my head fell back and my eyelids fluttered closed.

Then snapped open.

Why did she turn on the vibrator, and holy fuck what the hell was happening? It was my turn to wake the neighbors screaming her name.

I came hard and long, I was afraid I was going to blow off the back of her head. I’d often heard women say they saw fireworks during an orgasm. I now knew what that felt like. Fireworks from the most mind blowing orgasm of my life.

I may have actually passed out.

When I was finally coherent, I found Angelic laying beside me, licking her lips and smiling like the cat that ate the canary. She seemed very pleased with herself.

I was completely spent.

With feathery light touches, she traced the lines of the tattoo on my chest above my heart. She’d never mentioned or asked what it meant. Every other woman I’d been with had.

It was a separated heart with angel wings on the outside of one of them.

“Who broke your heart?” I was constantly asked. I always answered, “my heart's not broken, I’m waiting for my Angel to fill the hole separating them.” That statement was often follow with ahhs and a plea to be that Angel.

“I fucking love that toy.” I was deflecting, taking her mind off that tattoo. “Do you have any others?”

She laughed. “You have a room called the playroom and you haven’t used toys? Jackson, I’m so disappointed in you.”

“It started off as a joke, like the reference to my name. I would ask women if they would like to come play in my room. Next think I know, I own a playroom.” I rolled over and faced her. “You’re not the first to be disappointed to find out it’s simply a bedroom.”

“Is there anything else I should be aware of? Any other deep dark fetishes?” Her fingers continued to trace the outlines of my tattoos. She had made her way down to the one on my biceps.

Tattoos were supposed to have meaning. They represented a time, a person or a feeling.

Except for the one above my heart, mine were simply from getting shit faced drunk and picking some random picture from the art on the wall of the tattoo parlor.

Not a lot of depth there.

I pulled her in for slow long sensual kiss. “No more hidden fetishes. For me, at least. You?”

“That’s the only toy I own, for now. We could go shopping for some couples pleasure toys if you like.” Her grin was slightly sarcastic and very much curious to my response.

I cradled her to my chest. “I want to fulfill all your fantasies, Angel.”

“You already have, Jackson. Being here. Being with you. That’s my fantasy. My only fantasy.” Her needy sigh sent a shiver down my spine. I never wanted to let her go.

“I’ve rescheduled my overnight trip to coincide with your wedding shoot.” She needed to understand I was not willing to give up any more of our time together than absolutely necessary. “All my other appointments are in house. Some nights will run late, I hope you don’t mind me waking you up in the middle of the night?”

She smiled up at me. “I’m giving up wedding photography.” She put her hand over my mouth. “Before you say anything, I want to pursue more in house clients as well. Babies pictures are great, but it’s a limited market. I want to invest in boudoir and burlesque shoots. They bring in a more diverse clientele. I’m seeing my bank manager tomorrow, see what funds are available. I’ve priced equipment and I’m sure I can secure a loan to cover the cost.”

Her eyes went wide and the corners of her mouth rose. “I want to give you a key to my apartment.”

I knew giving up this little bit of control was a big step for her. Giving me a key to her place where I could invade her space any time, this was huge.

“This means more to me than you can imagine.” With a sheepish grin, I told her I wanted to return the gesture. That was, if I could get her up to my penthouse.

I didn’t push the issue, she would come when she was ready.

I curled her into the crook of my arm and drifted off. Happy and sated.

The alarm on my cell went off, waking me from my restful slumber. I must have been exhausted after last nights sexcapades. I didn’t feel the bed shift when Angelic got up. I could smell the delicious aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she greeted me, smiling. Dressed in a simple cotton pink button up blouse paired with red capris, her hair was neatly tied in a high ponytail. She looked professional and ready to meet the day.

I wanted to strip her naked and carry her back to bed.

She stepped back and put her hand up. “Stop right there, I know that look, Jackson. Sit down, drink your coffee and don’t even think about what I know you’re thinking about. I have a very important appointment this morning.”

“Work?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Personal.” She didn’t elaborate.

“Too personal to discuss?” I was prying, not even trying to be subtle.

“My therapist. I haven’t had a nightmare in a while. I’m hoping to decrease my meds.” She took a deep breath, walked over and wrapped herself around me.

The vanilla scent of her shampoo had me hard and off balance. Whatever it was she wanted to tell me, whatever it was she wanted, it was hers. I was lost in her scent, her touch, her soft breath against my naked chest.

“I don’t want us to constantly be worrying about whether or not we have enough condoms lying around. If not the meds, than maybe I can see my OBGYN about other methods of birth control that the meds won’t interfere with.”

Was she worried about my reaction to her not wanting to use condoms? Fuck, this was best news ever. No more scurrying for my wallet or pants. Hell, if I wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her after breakfast, all the better.

“I definitely need to start renovations on my shower. I’ll call Richard and find out who did his.” I reached for my cell. She slapped my hands, giggling.

“Sit down and drink your coffee. I’ll get some breakfast going before you’re late for work,” she scolded me.

We sat and ate in comfortable silence. I loved that we didn’t need to fill every minute together with mundane chatter. We could sit and catch each other sneaking glances of appreciation.

“If you’re serious about doing boudoir, I think we could help each other’s business.” I got an furrowed eyebrow. “Theo is looking to rebrand his band. I would like to add the boudoir photo idea in the mix when I meet with him.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“With social media, these guys’ images are everywhere. Good and bad. If we make enticing photos of the bands, images approved by them, they take back control over what is out there. What do you think?”

“I think you are looking for a reason for me to come work for you.” She moved closer and kissed my cheek. She walked to the sink to put her dirty dishes in. “I have to go.” Putting a key in my hand, “Lock up when you leave,” she told me.

She grabbed her purse and keys and left.

That wasn’t a no. I didn’t think that was a no. I wouldn’t push it. Not yet.

I was serious about using the idea of promoting new images, online and poster. Other rock bands had done the sexy pose route. Boudoir, in good taste, would be something new for Theo’s band. I grabbed my stuff. I needed to get home to shower, change and head to the office.

I no longer had an empty calendar.

The next two weeks flew by. I spent my days working and my nights curled up with the woman I loved. Some nights we simply curled into each other and slept, one of us leaving early or the other coming in late.

It didn’t matter. The minute I laid beside her or she climbed in bed next to me, my world was perfect.

One morning when I asked her why the neighbors had not been complaining about the noise coming from her apartment. I laughed when she told me that the apartments on both side of us were vacant.

It saddened her that most of the small shops in the aged building were also vacant. It seemed the small mom and pop places were being shut out by large giant chain stores. She feared that her landlord may one day give in to these corporations and sell out.

One more reason I explained for her to come and work with me out of my building.

She scoffed at my idea and chastised me about giving the landlord one more reason to sell.

“This place should be declared a historical building,” she huffed one day. “That would prevent those vultures from badgering poor Mr. Cartwright. They need to learn to take no for an answer.”

Again I took this opportunity to drive my point across.

“Angel, the place is half empty. It might be in Mr. Cartwright’s best interest to sell. He must be losing money with the upkeep on this place alone. You know you will always have a place in my building if that happens.”

Ones again I got the laser death glare.

“I have an appointment with my therapist, lock up when you leave.” She grabbed her purse and keys and left. No kiss on the cheek. No see you later. She just left.

She seemed a little off this morning. I hoped it was nothing more than her concern for Mr. Cartwright. She never did confide what her therapist suggested about her medication after her last appointment.

I didn’t want to overstep boundaries.

We were practically living together. I spent all my free time here. Was she concerned I had not asked her to my place? I was hoping she would let me know when she was ready.

Fuck, I wasn’t a mind reader.

Was she waiting for me to make the next move?