Chapter Five
Lily
“He didn’t call me back yet. Jackson, I mean.”
I poured a cup of coffee for myself and sat down with a sigh. Dad was about to walk out the door, and he straightened his tie and gave me an exasperated glance. “So call him again.”
“Don’t you think that’s too—”
“Sorry, Lily, I have to get to the office. I can’t really talk about this right now,” he said, holding up a hand and cutting me off.
“Why do you have to work weekends?” I asked timidly, wishing we could return to the night before, when Dad had actually been kind and asked questions. It was so rare, so nice. “Surely not many people think about building houses on a Saturday morning.”
He scoffed. “Saturdays are our busiest time. People aren’t at work, so they get everything done on the weekend that they needed to but otherwise couldn’t due to their weekday jobs.”
“Oh.” I felt stupid. Of course.
His face softened. “Look, if I have time, I’ll call Jackson myself. Maybe he’d be willing to talk to me over you.”
I shook my head glumly. “No, I’ll figure something out,” I said. “You’re too busy.”
He didn’t argue, and seconds later he was out the door. I leaned back in my chair with a sigh, trying to think of some other places I could apply to for an internship as I sipped my coffee. My mind kept drifting back to Jackson. I knew there was more than one reason I was disappointed that he hadn’t taken my call last night. Of course I was desperate for an intern position, but a bigger part of me was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to hear his voice; hear him talking to me….little old me.
Did he even remember me?
My cheeks grew heated at the thought, and suddenly I was incensed. It was one thing for him to avoid our house, avoid our family. I understood that. But how could he just act like we never existed? What Mom did was terrible, so terrible, but it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t Dad’s fault. So was it really so hard for Jackson to just give me a call back to acknowledge my message? I knew he was a busy man. A powerful man. But surely one phone call wasn’t so hard.
Maybe it was the desperation to pass my course that was making me mad. Maybe it was something else. Something more primal. Either way, I found myself setting my coffee down and marching out the door. I didn’t even realize what I was doing and where I was going until I was halfway there, but five minutes later I was on Jackson’s front doorstep, still clad in my pink and white striped pajamas.
I rang the doorbell, and as I waited, my heart pounded. I tried to think of what I could say. Hi, Jackson. I don’t know if you remember me, but my mother flew into a psychotic rage and killed your girlfriend six years ago. Care to give me a job?
Jesus, what was I thinking? I should’ve never come here.
Before I could turn and hoof it away at the speed of light, which I so desperately wanted to do now, the door opened, and there was Jackson in the flesh. Damn nice flesh, too….he was bare-chested, clad in only boxer shorts. Up close and with so little clothing on, he looked even hotter than I remembered from yesterday, and my mouth completely dried up as it fell open. I must’ve looked like a fish out of water.
My insides seemed to melt as I took him in. When he was in clothes, he was all business—professional, neat and clean-cut. But out of them he was something else. He was rugged, muscular, manly, and oh so sexy. Sexy as sin. Most of all, he looked commanding. He was so big and strong that he could easily overpower me, make me do anything he asked or demanded.
Wicked thoughts bloomed in my mind like spring flowers, and I nearly forgot why I was here. Nearly forgot our shared history. All I wanted to do was climb the powerful body that was currently towering over me, run my hands all over the tight muscles. Let him do whatever he wanted to me. Hold me down, control me. Just the idea of it sent a warm flush creeping over my cheeks, and I felt my nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of my pajama top.
“Lily,” Jackson said by way of greeting, staring down at me. I thought he’d be shocked to see me standing on his doorstep, but his expression was impassive.
“You remember me.” I blurted out the words before I could catch myself.
“Of course I do.”
“I tried calling you yesterday.”
“I know.” That was all he had to offer up in response, and I cringed at how badly this was going.
“I just thought….I just wondered…”
“I was going to call you back,” he said, talking over my stuttering failure of a sentence. “But I was very busy last night, and Saturday mornings are one of the rare times I get to sleep in.”
My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Of course. I was such an idiot. It’d only been fourteen hours since I made the damn call. Why couldn’t I wait a few more hours?
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said hastily.
There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Finally, the smallest hint of an expression. Was it because I called him sir? I suppose men in his position liked to be respected after all the hard work that got them to where they were in life, and to be honest, I liked doing it. I liked giving him the respect he deserved.
“No apology necessary. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” he said. “It’s clearly urgent if you’re over here.”
“Um. I…” My mouth dried up again.
His lip twitched. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile or frown. “Spit it out, Lily.”
“I know you’re busy. You have so much work to do, especially with your campaign. I read about it a few weeks ago in the newspaper. So I thought…I thought maybe you might need an intern. I…uh…I need an internship for college,” I said, nearly tripping over every single word.
“You’re a college girl now, huh?” he said, his face impassive again.
I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“And you want an internship. From me.”
“Um. Yes. I was hoping you could help. I wouldn’t have asked, but I don’t know anyone else…” My voice trailed off, and I knew my face was scarlet now. I could feel it burning with shame.
“And this is how you dress to search for internships?” Jackson asked, gesturing to my pajamas with one big hand. His voice dripped with condescension, and I regretted coming over here more and more with each passing second.
“No. Of course not. I just thought…actually, I don’t know what I was thinking,” I said stupidly. Hey, at least that was completely honest.
Jackson stood and regarded me for a long moment, and I squirmed from the horribly awkward silence, wishing the area between my legs wasn’t tingling so hard. And why was it? I wasn’t actually turned on from this humiliation, was I?
“Sorry, kid. I can’t help you,” he finally said.
His words cut me like a knife. It wasn’t the rejection. It was the fact he’d called me ‘kid’, like I was just some silly child. Granted, I certainly looked like one right now, but still, it made me feel like crap. I didn’t want Jackson to view me as a tiny kid. I wanted him to see me as a young woman. And I was a woman now. Just because I lacked experience didn’t mean my body wasn’t mature. Ripe. Ready.
Surely he could see that just from looking at me. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my pajamas—too uncomfortable to sleep in—and anyone with eyes could see that my once-flat chest was now full and bouncy; two nice handfuls just begging to be grabbed and squeezed.
“Okay,” I replied timidly, my eyes on the doormat. “Sorry to bother you, Jackson.”
“I didn’t say you could call me that,” he said sharply.
My eyes shot up to meet his dark gaze. What? What the hell was his problem? Jackson was his name. I’d always called him that, even when I was six. Did he expect me to call him Mr. Barker now that we were no longer in touch? Or ‘sir’ again?
All of a sudden, I was incensed all over again. “You know, I’m not actually a kid, Jackson,” I blurted out before launching into a tirade I hadn’t even known was simmering deep inside. “And you know what else? I’m not her. Not my mother. I thought maybe one day you would be willing to look past who I am. Who we are. You and dad…you used to be such good friends. I understand why you cut us off. Why wouldn’t you? But to act like you never even knew us….”
I shook my head and went on. “You’re not the only one who lost someone that day. I know it’s much worse for you. I really do. I know Jenna was murdered, and that’s awful. Terrible. But we lost someone too, in a way. My mom. She used to be….normal. Loving. Caring. She changed that day, and she did something terrible. Something she couldn’t undo. And now she’s still in hiding without a word to us, and we have no idea if we’ll ever even see her again. We have no idea if she’ll ever come back. If she’s even still alive. She might’ve done something truly unforgivable, but she was still my mother. I still want to see her again, just to ask why. Just to know if she’s alive. But I can’t. At least…at least you know what happened to Jenna. I’ll probably never have that same knowledge about my mother. So you don’t need to be so rude to me just for coming here to ask you a simple question, when surely you can understand all that!”
I felt like a horrible person the second the words were out of my mouth, and I instantly regretted saying anything about Jenna at all. But I hadn’t been able to stop the outburst, couldn’t stop the flood of emotional words. Maybe I needed to let it all out. I did feel a little better now that I’d said it, to be honest.
Jackson stared down at me, still unmoving. His eyes coasted over every inch of me like I was a piece of meat, ready to devour. And my god, despite the crazy irrational anger I felt for him right now…I wanted it. I wanted him to devour me.
“Go back to your daddy, little girl,” he finally said, taking a step back and reaching for the door.
My eyes widened. “You know, once upon a time, you were practically my second daddy,” I threw back before he could close the door in my face, putting the word ‘daddy’ in air quotes. “That’s how close you and my father used to be. It’s a shame you’ve both forgotten that.”
Jackson’s eyes burned with something strange; some unfamiliar emotion. It looked like a cross between anger and lust, but I couldn’t be sure. “If I was actually your daddy, I’d spank you for this attitude,” he growled. “That’s what happens to rude little girls, isn’t it?”
There it was again. Little girl. Why did suddenly it turn me on so much? And why did the thought of Jackson taking me over his knee and delivering a good spanking make my insides tingle and squirm so much?
“I’m not a little girl,” I said, my cheeks heating up again.
“So you said earlier. But you are. See, adults can control their tempers. You can’t, clearly. You’re just a little girl who needs discipline,” he shot back.
The tingling between my legs intensified.
“Go home, Lily. Before I actually do it. Before I actually damn well spank you,” Jackson said before I could form any sort of coherent response. He moved closer, and I lost all sense of reality. I may have been a virgin, but I could still tell that the man was walking, breathing, living sex. He was built like a god, and he knew it.
I tried to take a step back, but my legs were frozen. Jackson’s gaze was vaguely amused now, and I met it, trying to portray nonchalance with my own eyes. “Maybe…maybe I want you to spank me.”
The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. That seemed to be a nasty habit of mine lately. The amusement vanished from Jackson’s eyes, immediately replaced with shock, and his eyebrows shot up. My limbs were suddenly able to move again, so I did the only thing I could think of in such a shameful situation.
I turned and ran. Ran like the devil himself was on my ass.
I would’ve much preferred that Jackson’s hand was on my ass, though…