Angelic

I had to get to my room. I had to take care of myself before I let things got worse than I’d already made them. He seemed content in drying me off and wrapping me in the plush terry robe. Laying beside him in his bed, I had to tell him.

“Jackson, I have to get something from my room.” Would he ask or would he instinctively know?

“What’s so important it can’t wait until tomorrow?” He laced his hands in mine and brushes them across his lips.

“We…” I hesitated, “we didn’t use a condom.” I waited, hoping he got the hint. Nothing, a blank stare. Shit, was he really as dumb as the tabloids said? “I have the morning after pill in my room; we don’t want any complications from what happened.”

“Fuck, I really can be dense, can’t I?” He ran his hands through his hair. “Of course you want to take care of yourself.’” He flashed me a that sly womanizing grin, “You don’t plan on doing anything stupid like putting on underwear while you’re in there, do you?” His tone was playful, letting me know he wanted me back in his bed, naked. He wasn’t offended that I thought becoming impregnated by the great Jackson Naile was not an honor.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I climbed over top of him, stopping to gently kiss his soft inviting lips. He needed to know I didn’t regret the decision we made in the shower. I just needed to make sure we didn’t regret it somewhere down the road.

I wasn’t gone long and when I returned he laid naked across the bed.

“What took you so long, Angel? Come here,” he beckoned, patting his hand on the empty space beside him on the bed.

“And you called me impatient,” I teased him back.

I gladly accepted his offer. We slid under the covers and he pulled me into him. I enjoyed being this close to him. I didn’t know how long his infatuation with me would last. I hoped for the weekend, at least. I knew there were not a lot of single people at the wedding. The only single male was Haley’s son. The only females were the flower girl and one of the bridesmaids.

I doubted he planned on bringing his own female companion. I never thought to ask before things got out of hand. How do I start a conversation with, I know I just had the best sex of my life, but is your girlfriend joining us? Still, it was a conversation that needed to be done.

“Jackson?” I had not intended to hesitate. I wanted to get this out in one breath, but I froze.

“What is it, Angel?” The lack of concern in his voice had me second guessing my decision to bring this up.

“I didn’t interrupt any plans you had for this weekend with… you know… what we did. What we are doing?” I was disgusted with how weak my voice projected my concern.

“What is it you think we are doing?” Was he really amused at my question, my turmoil?

“Don’t be an ass, Jackson. Do you or don’t you have plans for a companion to accompany you this weekend?”

“Angel, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” Total lie. “I just need to know if I should keep to my room for the rest of the weekend.”

“No, Angel, I came here to work, not fuck. Fucking you was a pleasant bonus.”

He bent over and captured my mouth, stifling a gasp as he tweaked my nipples and fondled my breasts, preventing me from asking any more stupid questions. He began to caress my body. His gentle fingers traced the curves of my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers and they hardened to his touch.

When he was done with one, he began on the other. His other hand traveled all over my body. The space between my legs was still throbbing, still aroused from our last session in the shower.

He cupped me below and smiled as a sighing moan escaped my lips. I wasn’t sure how long he worshiped my body. The pleasure he continually gave me left me in a trance of ecstasy.

If he were a drug, I would be an addict. If he asked me, I would beg. I would beg him to fuck me. To take me to that place I knew only he could. I knew I was sobbing against his chest. Sobbing because I didn't know how to reconcile the unbelievable pleasure coursing through my veins. Sobbing for the realization that I was losing control to this man, this womanizer. Sobbing that I would give him what I swore I would never relinquish to any man—my self esteem.

He reached for the tissue on the nightstand and handed me a handful. I sat up, blew my nose and wiped my tear stained face. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs across my cheeks and lips. He sat up beside me and kissed my forehead.

He cuddled me into his lap and gently kissed my lips, lingering there for a while, like he understood my senses were on overload and he wanted me to accept what my body was feeling.

He pulled back and stroked my face and ran his fingers through my hair. It seemed to be his favorite pastime. He wasn’t the first man to marvel in the softness of my curls. He was the first to bring me to the brink of another orgasm doing it.

“Tell me one thing about you that you think would surprise me.”

“I’m falling apart in your arms and you want to play twenty questions?” I wasn’t sure if I was amused or annoyed.

“Yes, you may not realize it, but it will help bring you down.”

“You know what would bring me down? Stop overloading my senses with orgasms.”

“Yes, but my way, we can do both bring you down and give you orgasms.”

He ran his hands down below and messaged my folds, preparing me for what he planned to do next. My body anticipated and reacted to this small gesture. I felt the pooling return and I wondered if I would be dry down there ever again.

“Talk to me, Angel, one thing.” His voice was soft and hypnotizing.

“I’m claustrophobic.” Why was that the first thing that came to mind? It was something I confessed to very few people. They always asked why and I wasn’t ready to go there with him.

“Do you want to ask me something now?”

I was relieved he didn’t not ask about my phobia. “Where did the phrase get nailed come from?”

“In an interview, the reporter mispronounced my name. I was being cute and told her she would never forget my name if she were ever to get nailed by me. I regretted it the minute it came out of my mouth.”’He looked embarrassed.

“And that is exactly what I told you, I’m sorry. “ I apologized as I ran my fingers through the smathering of hair on his chest. “I’m not sorry about what we did it. I’m sorry if I made you feel I was only in it for that.”

I looked up at him, “I was in it for you, Jackson, not your reputation.”

He was right, I knew he was bringing me to another orgasm but the conversation was distracting. I still felt every nerve ending buzz, only this time I was not overwhelmed. I let him stroke me, caress me, fuck me masterfully with his perfect fingers.

I was aware of the wave about to come and I reached for his mouth and kissed and clung to him as an anchor through the storm raging within.

He finally withdrew from my body and I ached for him to return. Hell, what the fuck was I going to do when Sunday arrived and we had to leave? Would I have had my fill of him?

If not, would I beg him to continue this after we left?

I knew he lived in Tranquility; so did I. Not in the same neighborhood, but at least it was the same city. If I had not had my fill, would I beg him for it? Then I realized the waterworks had returned.

I used that word again. Beg.

That word I swore I would never use for any man.

I needed to leave his bed or I was going to lose myself. Better to have loved and lost than never love at all. I had him like I had always fantasized. It was better than anything I could have imagined. I had to come to terms that this was it. He gave me the best mind blowing sex of my life, but I couldn't let that dictate my actions, my life.

“Jackson, I should head back to my room.” I didn’t want to go, but if I stayed, I was going to have to explain why I couldn’t stop crying at each orgasm. Better for him to think he was so amazing that it brought me to tears. Better he think that than the real reason I couldn’t allow myself to fall any deeper.

“You’re not going anywhere until you explain why a woman who can pin me down in three seconds flat can’t ride through an orgasm. I know I’m good, but I know there’s something else going on. Please talk to me, Angel.”

How was I supposed to explain that I would break my one cardinal rule to keep him in my bed?

The one rule I live by in order not to lose myself?

How could I tell him I was willing to lose myself to him without sounding like an obsessed stalker?