Chapter Twenty
Lily
“So I spoke to the police today.”
Jackson glanced up at me from the stove, where he was stirring béchamel sauce for the lasagne he was making for our dinner. “Oh?”
“They called me about the letter Mom wrote me. They couldn’t find much, but they did tell me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“There were indentations on a few spots on the paper. Could be from something that sat on the letter for a while after she wrote it, or it could be from a ring or some other jewelry she wore while writing it. They’re doing more analysis now to figure out exactly what it is.”
“Takes a while, doesn’t it? You handed the letter in weeks ago.”
I shrugged. “Guess so. But…”
I bit my lip, and Jackson frowned. “What is it, Lily?”
“Mom was allergic to most types of metals. Like silver and so on. She never, ever wore jewelry.”
“Huh. I actually remember that now that you mention it. But if it was jewelry that caused the indentation, then…”
“Then she didn’t write it,” I said quietly.
“But it was her handwriting, yes?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. Looked exactly like it. The police experts compared it to samples of her writing from old letters I found at home, and they said they were pretty sure it was written by her. Hard to tell though. Apparently forensic document analysis isn’t as strong a science as those CSI-type shows make it out to be.”
“Then it was most likely written by her, and the indentation wasn’t made by jewelry, seeing as she can’t wear it. Ever heard of Occam’s Razor, Lily?”
I shook my head and frowned. “What’s that?” I asked.
He tasted the béchamel sauce, then went on. “It basically means the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.”
“Oh.”
Jackson was so damn smart. It was crazy how much more he knew than me about the world, although I suppose he’d had twenty years longer than me to discover everything.
“In this case, it’s obvious—the simplest explanation is that your mother did write the letter, and something else caused the indentation,” he continued. “Because if she didn’t….well, that could mean any number of things.”
“Like someone wrote it pretending to be her, because she was set up. And that would mean….”
“That would mean someone else killed Jenna. And probably your mother too, in order to frame her by making her look like she did it before disappearing,” Jackson said quietly. “But that doesn’t seem possible. It’s too much.”
He averted his gaze from me, looking down at the sauce. I wasn’t sure why he couldn’t meet my eyes right now. Was it because of the reminder of Jenna, or was it because I was actually making him think there was the tiniest chance my mom was innocent all along? The thought made me feel slightly ill, because if my mother had indeed been set up, then what he’d just said was true—she must be dead, and she had been all along.
“I think you’re right,” I said in a small voice. “Occam’s Razor. She did it, she’s alive and on the lam, and she wrote the letter. Something else caused the indentations.”
Jackson looked back up at me and smiled. “I’d say so, yes.”
“So what’s been happening at work?” I asked, trying to change the subject to something lighter.
“You would know; you work there too,” he said with a chuckle.
I smiled. “I meant at City Hall.”
“Same old, same old. But hey, that reminds me—remember that shitty gossip column piece that looked like it was about us? And how Kaye filled me in on the office gossip the other day?”
My heart lurched at the reminder, and I nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, I’ve been racking my brains trying to think of who at either City Hall or the campaign office might’ve decided to start these rumors about us. I finally have something.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
He tapped the wooden spoon against the saucepan. “All in good time, baby girl,” he said with a wink. “I’ll tell you when I know everything.”
He didn’t expand on it beyond that, and I pouted. “Okay.”
“Help me pour the sauce on the lasagne?” he said, turning off the stove.
Jackson and I made dinner together nearly every night now. It was a nice ritual that I looked forward to, and it was also a nice change from my old home, when I’d cooked and eaten dinner alone nearly every night while Dad put in late hours at the office.
And speaking of my father…
“I went home earlier to grab some more clothes,” I said. “Dad was home.”
I paused, waiting for Jackson’s reaction. He raised his eyebrows slightly, but other than that his face remained neutral. “How did that go?” he asked. “He didn’t say or do anything nasty, did he? Because if he did, I’ll—”
“Jackson, it’s fine,” I said with a smile. I loved how he was always so protective of me. “He actually smiled at me for the first time in…two weeks or so? And it’s only the third time I’ve even seen him since I left to come and stay here. Anyway, he asked how I was doing and if I needed anything, and he also asked how you were. I said we were okay, and he grunted goodbye. And that was that.”
“So you think he’s slowly coming round to us?”
“Slowly being the operative word, yes,” I said with a nod.
Jackson grinned widely. “Well, that’s fantastic news,” he said as he slid the lasagne dish into the oven and set the timer. Then he reached for me and squeezed me into a tight bear hug. “I think the good news calls for a celebration, if you catch my drift.”
I squealed as he slapped me on the ass. “But it’s almost dinnertime!”
“It won’t be ready to come out of the oven for a while yet. I’ve set the timer, so until that goes off, we have all the time in the world…”
I smiled and pulled back. “Hmm…I guess there’s a few things on Netflix I want to catch up on.”
He slapped my ass again, harder this time. “Naughty girl. You’re not going near Netflix. You’re going straight upstairs.”
“To my room?” I teased.
“To a room, sure. You know which one.”
I giggled and took the stairs two steps at a time, Jackson following closely behind me. I darted into the toy room and opened the cabinet, and I felt Jackson’s hot breath on my neck only seconds later as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Pick one,” he said. “Anything you want to try.”
My eyes coasted over all the toys, and I settled on a purple silicone ring with what looked like little bunny ears attached on one side of it. “This,” I said. “I want to try this. But you’ll have to tell me what it is.”
Jackson nuzzled the shell of my ear. “You’re so innocent, aren’t you, baby girl? It’s adorable,” he said. “That’s a vibrating cock ring. Those little ears buzz against your clit when it’s on me.”
“I’m not so innocent, daddy,” I said with a sly smile, turning around and sinking to my knees. I looked up at him as I fumbled with his belt buckle. “Sometimes I’m a brat.”
“Yes you are,” he growled, roughly threading his fingers in my hair. “And brats like sucking cock like little sluts, don’t they?”
“Yes, daddy.”
I finally freed his cock from his pants, eyes widening as it sprang free. I was always surprised at how damn big it was, even though I’d seen it a hundred times. Jackson’s hands were still on my head, and he pushed slowly downwards, demanding my attention and adoration.
I ran my tongue up along the seam of his balls to the base of his shaft, one hand on his thigh for support. I was already so turned on by the thought of pleasuring him that I didn’t even need to touch my clit to start the slow stirrings of a climax within my core. A few touches of this buzzing cock ring in a few minutes would be all I needed to come like crazy.
But that could wait. It was Jackson’s turn right now. I wanted to get him good and hard with my mouth, make him edge close to orgasm before I rode him with the ring on. Pre-cum dripped from the slit of his cock as I licked over and around the head, and seeing and tasting such a clear sign of his arousal was a flame set to the gasoline pool of my desire.
He groaned and pressed harder on my head as I began to lick and suck at him with wild abandon, urging me to go deeper. I took as much of him as I could, desperate to give him everything he wanted, and I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it to add to his pleasure. Twisting my wrist, I tightened my grip, and Jackson groaned again.
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so good at that. Born to suck cock, weren’t you?”
His words spurred me on, and I licked and sucked faster and faster. I felt him twitch in my mouth moments later, and I knew he was close so I immediately pulled back.
“Get the ring?” I said, motioning toward the toy box.
“You little tease,” he growled. He stripped himself of his clothing before tearing mine off as well, and then he grabbed the purple cock ring and slid it over his shaft, letting it rest at the base. He backed over to the bed and sat down, pulling me with him, and then he pinched my ass, making me yelp as I sat on his lap, impaling myself on his cock in one hard movement. I kept my hands on his shoulders for support, moaning at the initial stretch.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he filled me. “So fucking tight and wet. Fuck, it feels amazing inside you.”
He reached down and flicked a little button on the side of the ring toy. Then both hands reached up to squeeze my breasts as the toy began to vibrate, and I gasped with joy as I bounced up and down. Each thrust left me pulsing with bliss, vibrations shocking my clit, and I cried out.
“I’m going to come, daddy.”
“Good,” he grunted, lifting my hips and then pulling me down again, easing his cock back inside me. Each time felt better than the last; filling myself with him. His hands moved from my breasts to my back, running up and down my bare skin, and our chests pressed together. The amazing sensation of the skin-on-skin contact cemented how well our bodies molded together, and every nerve ending was on fire as my stiff nipples rubbed against his hard chest.
My head fell back as a climax soared through me, and my thighs were slick with arousal as I dripped all over Jackson.
“I can feel you coming on my cock,” he growled. “Keep doing that, baby girl.”
He didn’t stop moving me up and down on his cock, even when I felt too sensitive and exhausted to go on, and the toy kept on buzzing against my clit until another orgasm built deep within me, this one even better than the last.
“Yes, daddy!” I cried out. “Oh, yes!”
Jackson pulled me tighter against him and groaned as he came, too. Then he rolled us sideways onto the bed. Cum leaked from me, making my thighs sticky, and Jackson got up to grab some tissues from a box that sat on top of the cabinet.
“Thanks, daddy,” I murmured as I wiped myself clean.
He dressed as he watched me, and when I was done, he gathered up my clothes and tossed them to me. “Here you go, baby girl.”
When I was done, we headed back down the hall toward the stairs. Just as we were about to descend, the upstairs hallway light blew out.
“Dammit,” Jackson said. “I’ll have to change it. I think I know where the globes are.”
“I saw some the other day in the cupboard near the washer room,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, this type of light fixture requires a special sort of globe. I have a box of them somewhere in the attic, I’m pretty sure.”
Just as he turned around to head to the attic, the oven timer beeped from downstairs, and he cursed. “Fucking great timing, huh?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll find the globe for you while you get the lasagne out.”
“You sure, sweetie?”
“Of course.”
He thanked me and dashed downstairs to get dinner, and I headed up to the attic. When I flicked the light on, I groaned. It was a dim yellow globe which barely lit the huge dark space, and from what I could see, there were cardboard boxes everywhere, strewn over the wooden floorboards and lined up around the walls.
“So Jackson is a secret hoarder,” I joked to myself as I began to poke around the boxes looking for globes. There were a lot of photos and keepsakes in the first few I glanced through, and I recognized a boy in some of the photos as a much younger Jackson. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he hadn’t always been such a big, powerful man.
Seeing him so young and innocent in these family pictures made me feel a tug deep inside, a yearning to have his babies. They’d be so cute, just like he used to be, and they’d grow up to be just like him. But it was too early in our relationship to consider that, so for now that could remain my little secret.
I sighed as I came across yet another box of old family things. Where the hell were these damn globes? I pushed away the box I was looking at and decided to try looking across the attic instead. Maybe I was just on the wrong side, and the boxes several feet away contained more house-related items.
I headed over to the other side of the room and pulled a box away from the wall. It was sealed shut with a bit of tape, but it was so old that the tape had lost most of its grip. As a result, the box fell open as I yanked on it, and I nearly screamed at what I saw drop out of it.
It was a gun.