Jackson

I loved bachelor parties, at least I did until last night when a certain ginger ended up in my bed. She was all I could think about. I was not the least bit interested in spending the night watching strippers shake their can-cans in the groom's face.

I was relieved to find out that this wasn’t an ordinary bachelor party. It was just the guys hanging out on Richard’s boat, saying goodbye to the man whore Rick once and for all.

I was suppose to be picking up the pieces of the broken hearts left by both Aleksander and Richard. I was no longer interested. The only heart I was interested in was the one owned by someone who didn't want to give it to me.

I listened to how happy both Richard and Aleksander were with their new lives. I never thought I would be one of those guys who had pangs of envy for a married man. Even Richard’s half brother Aaron was in domesticated bliss with a redhead of his own.

I found it interesting, listening to these men compare the trials of their relationships. It sounded like there were times the differences between the couples would keep them apart. Somehow, they found a way to make to work. This gave me hope. Maybe I could find a way to make it work.

I knew I was tired of the tabloid exploits and wanted to prove I could be responsible and run a successful company. Was I also looking for a responsible commitment to complete the package? I found myself wanting to ask advice from the former bachelors.

How did I start without exposing Angelic to moral scrutiny?

“Richard, why does your wedding photographer look familiar?”

I didn’t have to start the conversation — Aaron did it for me.

“You must have seen her with Katie’s brother, Liam.”

Richard’s reply had me dumbfounded. Angelic had a boyfriend. Related to someone the family knew. Was that how she got the job as wedding photographer?

I was upset but I couldn’t let it show. I had to sit there and pretend I hadn’t slept with a woman I had dreamt about since high school and she had a boyfriend.

I couldn’t bring myself to believe Angelic would have cheated. Not even to get nailed by Jackson Naile. She would not be the first to try. She would not be the first to succeed.

Richard added, “She sent me an email with some of her work.” He smirked, “She added our Brentwood connection, letting me know the importance of discretion. I called Liam and he told me I would not find anyone with more talent or dedication.”

Richard called Katie’s brother for a reference. She had worked for Katie’s brother, and now she worked for herself. This was a topic of conversation I could exploit. Her work before becoming a wedding photographer.

I could use her previous comment about making an offer for the pictures she took to my advantage. It could be my way back. This would be a very slippery slope. I swore I would never sleep with anyone who worked for me. Would having her collaborate with me on this project constitute her being my employee? An outside contractor at best, but not an employee.

I wished I could ask more, but that would raise too many red flags. I decided to let it go and enjoy the conversation and the company. The night flew by and I realized I had forgotten how much I enjoyed hanging out with the guys.

I said my goodnight and headed to the inn. I sent my photographer off hours ago. There were some things that did not need pictures; the memories were enough. I had made sure he got enough to satisfy Angelic, though.

I was not completely inebriated, but I was not completely sober either. I didn’t think I could sleep in a room that close to my Angel in this state and not be tempted to seduce her back into my bed.

I didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Not tonight. Tomorrow during a romantic wedding, I might not be such a gentleman. We said we were not at war, however, I had to pick my battles wisely.

As I came up to the cabin, I figure why not sleep there. It was about as far as I could get and still be on the island. I wouldn’t be putting anyone out of their room. It would also save me from having to explain why I would rather sleep in one of the small rooms downstairs instead of the master suite. I could claim I was too drunk to make it to the inn.

That was a far more plausible explanation.

I opened the door.

“Jackson, what the fuck? You have to stop doing this.”

At first I wondered, how drunk was I? There, standing next to the bed in nothing but her tank top and boy shorts, was my Angel. She grabbed her sweater and threw it on. I laughed at the situation. I could not have planned this better if I tried.

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Then why can’t you keep a straight face?” I caught her blushing; she was finding the humor in this situation the same as I.

“What are you doing here?” She began to pull her jeans on.

“The same thing you are? I had a little too much to drink and wasn’t sure I could make it back to the inn.” I was giving her an out. The plausible explanation I was going to use in the morning. “You?” I dragged it out in a low seductive drawl and raised an eyebrow.

“I came here because I had a few drinks and wasn’t sure I could trust myself not to knock on your door.”

I should have known she would tell me the truth. She had not lied to me so far. She had not completely opened up to me, either.

“Then I guess I’m right, I am here for the same reason you are. I had a few more than I’m willing to admit and I didn’t trust myself not to knock on your door.”

“What do you want to do, flip a coin?” She reached into her jeans pocket for a quarter.

“Heads I’m on top, tails you are.” I watched her beautiful crystal blue eyes meet mine. I could tell she was not sure if I was teasing or serious. At this point, neither was I.

“This won’t solve anything.” She sighed and prepared to leave.

“I’m not asking for answers, just the company.” I wanted her in my bed. I needed to feel her silky soft skin. I wanted the scent that was my Angel.

I wanted to taste her, like I did last night. I didn’t know what else to say to convince her she wanted the same thing.

“If I’m not here when you wake up, will you be ok with that?” She was still holding back.

“No, but I won’t ask for anything you can’t give. Not yet, anyhow.” I gave her my most seductive low growl and panty melting glare.

She jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. She cupped the back of my head and pulled me to meet to her and devoured my mouth. It was like she hadn’t been kissed in years. There was a wanting, a hunger, and I wanted to satisfy her needs.

She wasn’t the only one with a need.

I let her taste me, take control of the situation. She was most comfortable when she was in control. I liked her aggressiveness. It aroused me. It wasn’t something I was used to. It was taking all my resolve not to tear her clothes off and drop her naked body on the bed. I had to be patient. I had to wait for her to be ready.

She pulled off her sweater and tore at my hoodie. Our eyes locked. She nodded a yes and dragged me to the bed. It did not take much to get me to comply. She pushed away, smirked, and pointed to the bag on the the table.

The bag with the peace offering she gave me earlier today.

She pulled out a box and tossed it to me. I read the label. Heats up with friction. This was going to be interesting indeed. I put the box on the side table. I had no doubt these would come in handy soon. First I wanted her to come on my hand, then I wanted her to come on my face. Then I wanted her to come impaled on my cock.

I relieved her of her jeans and laid her on the bed. I ran my hand down her tight toned abdomen. I made my way into her underwear. I slid two finger into her folds and couldn’t hold back the excitement of feeling her wetness, her body’s desire for me.

“I see why you didn’t pick the ones with extra lube. You are so fucking drenched, Angel.” I wanted to hear her scream my name as I brought her to orgasm. My concern was that I wouldn’t make it. I would have to take my time with her. If she became skittish, she might run before I was done with her.

I hoped I wouldn't regret what I was about to do next. I hovered above her on my elbows. She stroked my face with her silky soft hands. She found my sensitive spot, the one just behind my ear, that when stroked the right way turned me to putty.

I didn't want her to stop but I had to have this conversation. I placed my hands over hers and brought them to my chest. I met her beautiful crystal blue eyes and stole one more passionate kiss.

“Do you want to set some ground rules?” I wanted to know what her triggers were. I wanted to avoid them.

“Ground rules. Okay, you get me off, I get you off. We fuck our brains out, then say goodnight. Unless you want to go first. I’m okay with that.”

“Angel,” I growled. She was avoiding the subject of last night. If I was smart, I would do the same.

“Don’t make this more than it is, Jackson. Haven’t you ever wanted to get nailed? Haven't you ever wanted someone to knock your socks off? Make your toes curl?”

She found the spot below my ear. My sweet spot. I didn’t know what turned me on more: the way she touched it or that the touch was coming from her.

No one had ever made me feel vulnerable before, asked me what I wanted. I knew she was holding back. Did I do the same, hold just a little something back so I didn’t get burned?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The way she stroked my sweet spot, I didn’t think I could.