CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

Something was off with Jackson and Kaya couldn’t tell if it was because he was feeling as royally off-kilter as she was. There had been something new in that kiss in the kitchen. Something that hadn’t been present in any of their other times of intimacy. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but it was majorly freaking her out.

She wolfed down her sandwich, half the fries, all her salad, and then most of her bowl of chocolate ice cream that Jackson had gotten up to get for her.

When she finally set it aside and looked up, he was blinking at her. “You can really eat.”

“You knew that already,” she said, shifting so that her feet went up under her, hidden from view.

He was sitting in the corner of the couch, reclined partway back, one of his elbows up on the arm of the couch and his hand buried in his own wavy hair. She was sitting in his space, almost touching him, having scooted over to be closer when he got up to get the ice cream. He hadn’t seemed inclined to complain about it when he’d gotten back to see it, but now the credits were rolling on the movie and he still hadn’t made a move on her and her confidence was faltering.

“I’ve never had a front row seat before.” He turned his head into his hand and scrubbed over his eyebrows. “God, why is everything you do so fucking charming to me? Seriously, I could watch you do your taxes and be into it.”

Kaya couldn’t help but preen into the compliment like a bird warming her feathers in the sun. But still, she paused over the conflict in his eyes. He’d sat far away at dinner, shifting position a lot, sighing, barely paying attention to the movie. She’d known he was nervous. He looked like a man at war with himself.

“Jackson,” she reached out and took his free hand between both of hers. His hand went so fast, so willingly, that again, she couldn’t help but relish the compliment of it. She could sense, on every level, how badly he wanted her. She studied the back of his hand for a second, the slightly cracked knuckles, the wide, clean fingers. Then she flipped his hand over and traced one of the lines. He visibly shivered. Then, and only then, did she let her eyes trace up to his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He dropped his eyes to her fingers tracing pictures on his palm. He looked almost pained. “I’m about to do something that I really don’t want to do.”

Her stomach dropped and her hands stilled. “What’s that?”

He let out a long breath and then moved his body around to face her, one of his knees drawn up onto the couch. He was careful not to remove his hand from hers. “I’m going to tell you the truth about something.”

“How come you don’t want to tell me?”

“Because I’ve spent years practicing keeping secrets from the ones I love. Always telling myself that it’s what’s best for them. But I promised you I wouldn’t do that anymore. That I would at least try to grow. So, here I am. About to tell you the truth when my nature is telling me to kick you out of the house for your own good.”

On instinct, she huddled closer to him. She didn’t want to be kicked out of the house and she naturally wanted to make this whole thing easier for Jackson. She sensed immediately that her closeness was both making things easier and harder on him.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the couch.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” she suggested.

He nodded, his eyes still closed. “Ben Woodrow came in today.”

“The officer that Gabriel mentioned?”

“Yeah. He’s the one who responded to the scene last year.”

“You mean when Natalie and Race…”

“Yeah. He’s been coming to see me for a year.”

Little by little Jackson unloaded the story onto Kaya. At first, she was swept away by the shock of it all. For years, the Durants were the only shifters she’d ever thought she’d know about. To know that there were others out there and they were interacting with Jackson, well, it was a huge surprise. But little by little, the shock wore off and she became aware of a different feeling, a realization. As Jackson tugged on his own hair and sighed and told her the story, she realized that he was straight up confiding in her. This wasn’t just getting something off his chest. He was processing. With her.

She was freaking elated. Dizzyingly so. Terrifyingly so. She’d been telling herself for a while now that maybe Jackson couldn’t change. The kissing thing would be fun while it lasted, but it would never go further than that. Now, though, sitting here, listening to him work this shit out with her, she was acutely aware that she ran the risk of having serious feelings for this man.

His torn expression tugged at her heart as he finished his story.

She looked back and forth between his dark eyes. “Jackson, are you… are you considering going back?”

Slowly, very slowly, he nodded. “I am.”

“Wow. You’d be, like, their personal veterinarian?”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m the closest thing most of them will ever have to medical care. If a shifter has any sort of serious injury, they’re often reported to the police in emergency rooms. It’s too risky to go. They’d rather die from infection than be outted to the feds. But with me, they wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“Wow. Holy smokes.” She pulled her blanket-covered knees up to her chin and stared off into the distance. “You’re going to actually be able to interact with other shifters. Hear their stories, help them live healthier, more fulfilling lives.” Her eyes filled. “Jackson, you’re going to be able to actually help shifter-kind in a substantial way.”

“I know,” he said gruffly.

She still stared off into the distance, her thoughts racing. “I’ll bet so many of them will have been through rough times. I’m sure they haven’t been eating well. Do you think any of them would benefit from talking to a nutritionist? I mean, caring about nutrition is probably a luxury if you’re running from the government. But still, you never know. Oh! You know what? I was just reading about this food waste prevention program that allows people to pick up leftovers from restaurants in the area that the restaurants aren’t technically allowed to serve anymore. They haven’t gone bad or anything. Most people drive them to shelters to help feed homeless populations, but do you think Ben and Shelly have enough food for all the shifters they’re housing? Because if they’re paying for all that out of pocket, it could get very expensive. This might be a great way of easing the burden a little bit. I could definitely do that at least twice a week.”

She looked up at him when he placed one finger over her lips, drawing her chin over so that she had to look at him again. His voice was low and gruff when he spoke. “Are you saying that you want to help? Be involved in this?”

She blinked at him for a minute and then shook his hand away. “Jackson, most of the people I love the most on this earth are shifters and all I can do is watch as the world treats you all like shit. Of course I want to help.”

“But Kaya, if you were caught, God forbid, who even knows what kind of charges they could bring against you for knowing and not notifying the police? I mean, we could be talking serious jail time.”

He looked so truly destroyed by the idea of anything bad happening to her, Kaya’s breath momentarily stalled in her chest. “I run the risk of serious jail time just by eating Sunday dinners at your mother’s house. Just by being friends with Seth and Raph and Bauer. I risk serious jail time by making out with you in your kitchen or snuggling up to you on this couch. And none of those things are actually good for mankind. This is something worthwhile. This is something that could actually help people. If Ben and Shelly don’t need help with food then we’ll find some other way for me to help out.”

Jackson shocked her by suddenly leaning forward and dropping his head down, scraping a hand over the back of his head. “Fuck. I am such a fucking idiot.”

“What? Why?” She tugged on him. The vehemence in his voice freaked her out a little bit.

He looked up at her, his expression just wrecked. “You were totally and completely right, Kaya. All this time I’ve been doing what I thought was best. I thought I was keeping you safe by treating you terribly and completely robbing you of your ability to choose what it was that you wanted. I just made the decision for you. Without even pausing to think about what your choice would really have been. And made myself, and probably you, totally miserable in the process. I am such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Jackson. You’re just stubborn. And a little ridiculous.”

He laughed. “You would have dated me, wouldn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“If, say, two years ago, I’d shown up at your door with flowers in my hands and truth in my heart, would you have gone out with me?”

She considered that for a second. Two years ago had pretty much been the peak of her crush on him. “Yeah. Most likely.”

“God, all this wasted time.” He scraped that hand over the back of his head again. “I’m so sick of fighting with myself. Depriving myself of what I want the most. What I want more than anything.”

He wanted her the most. More than anything.

His dark eyes looked so tired, so disappointed in himself. She couldn’t stand for it. “Hey, now.” She tugged him back up so that he was sitting again. “Just now you wanted to kick me out instead of telling me, right?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Well, I mean, no. What I really want is to find a way to convince you to stay here forever. But keeping you safe is the most important thing I can possibly imagine. So, yeah, I would have pushed you away so as not to involve you in this mess.”

“But instead you told me the truth and let me choose for myself? Even though it was very hard for you?”

“Right…” His dark eyes tentatively met hers, as if he was scared of what he might see if he looked too closely.

Her decision solidified in her gut. She was suddenly steady and sure on the outside even though on the inside, the hummingbirds in her gut were dancing around a maypole.

“Jackson, if that doesn’t deserve a reward, I don’t know what does.” With not even a moment of hesitation, she leaned back and shucked off her oversized sweater, sending it in a bundle to the floor. She’d worn a white, see-through bra, hoping there would be a reason for him to see it.

“Fuck.” His eyes were dark and wide as he stared at her like he was trying to memorize every single molecule of her. Maybe he was. His hands clenched against his legs and she knew, instinctually, that he was still fighting with himself. He still wasn’t used to being able to reach for her whenever his body told him to.

She solved the problem by lifting his hands and placing them against her hips as she crawled over top of him, straddling him. She chuckled when it seemed that he couldn’t tear his eyes from her chest. He looked dozy and hypnotized. He moved his hands up toward her waist just an inch, but she gasped a little. His hands were so hot she wondered if they’d leave marks behind.

“I’ve never even seen you in a bathing suit before,” he muttered.

She looked down at herself, saw that her breasts were perfectly visible, in great detail, through the white lace. “Too much?”

He didn’t apparently see the need to dignify that with a verbal response. He merely grunted and let his head fall forward. His forehead pressed against her sternum and Kaya tried not to wiggle when his hands started to smooth up her back to her shoulders. He turned his head and pressed his cheek against her chest as he gave her a quick hug and then his palms were encircling her, around her ribs. He pulled her into him and let his head drop back. They fell into the kiss easily, as if kissing were their natural state.

She’d had her shirt off for makeout sessions with guys before so she wasn’t entirely sure why her heart was threatening to pound its way up into her throat. Then his tongue slicked across hers at the same second one of his hot hands slid up to cup the bottom of her breast and all her questions were answered. She was losing her mind because this was Jackson. This was a man she truly wanted. And that was truly a novel experience for her.

“This is—wow. I didn’t—” It seemed he couldn’t get a sentence out as his strong hand framed her breast, his thumb stroking across the heavy weight of her, not quite teasing the tip.

She laughed. “What?”

He cleared his throat and kissed along her shoulder, her collarbone. “You have, um, a bigger cup size than I thought you did. You’re always wearing such baggy clothes. I never knew.”

Jackson leaned her back, bracing around the small of her back with one strong arm. And he just looked at her for a moment. He leaned forward and opened his mouth against one breast and then the other, wetting the material of her bra.

“Oh God,” she arched her back for him and it seemed to snap the last of whatever internal braking mechanism he’d been using.

He shifted his position, laying them down on their sides with her back to the back of the couch. He threw one of her legs over his, opening her up in a way that made her breath startle. His hands were everywhere, her hip, her ribs, the backs of his fingers playing over her stomach. He took a handful of one of her breasts and Kaya gasped into his mouth as he drank her kiss down, groaning and grumbling words she could barely hear.

She started rocking herself against the thigh that he’d pushed between her legs. She didn’t stop rocking as she grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt and yanked. It got stuck up around his ribs and he stopped kissing her just long enough to laugh and wrestle the sweatshirt off. Then she got her first real eyeful of his chest. Technically she’d seen him butt-ass naked before, but this was different. Now, his mat of dark chest hair was underneath her fingers, the ladder of his ribcage was sucking inward as she slicked her palm over it, the ridges of his stomach muscles were pushing in and out with each humongous breath he took.

She wanted to sit up and trace every single line of his gorgeous body, but instead she just moaned and fell back as Jackson plastered himself to her and started kissing along her neck, her shoulder. It was more than kissing. He was tasting her, marking her. She felt every stroke of his tongue and teeth and lips over her skin but she also felt it inside, deeply, on some untouched inner sanctum of her body. He kissed her bra straps down, kissed frantically over the upper globes of her breasts, and then she’d had enough.

Kaya reared up and yanked her bra off, tossing it away. In the next breath she stripped off her leggings and socks as well so that she was there in just her white panties and her hair ties, panting and staring down at him.

His eyes went completely black. As she traced her eyes down his body, her gaze bottomed out between his legs where a thick ridge looked uncomfortably constrained behind his joggers.

They’d have to come off in a second, she decided. But in the meantime, she was too busy getting tugged back onto Jackson’s body. And now his hands truly were everywhere. The backs of her knees, tangled in her hair, tracing the line of her underwear. He played piano up her spine, tasting her mouth over and over, his hips jutting up into hers.

Time spun out and Kaya was sweating and pressing herself against him by the time she rolled to the side again, taking him with her. They panted, both of their eyes blown out, his hair a mess. Though he’d yet to touch her between her legs, she felt as if he’d touched almost every single other inch of her, changing her with each swipe of his palms. She wanted to return the favor. She was suddenly overcome with the need for it.

She grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and started to push them down.

His hands instantly came over hers, stilling her.

“You don’t want me to take your pants off?” she asked blearily, not even realizing how beguiling the words would be until they were out of her mouth and floating across the air to him.

He laughed in a pained way, his face turned into the couch pillow. “Yes. I want that. I want that so badly I feel like I might stroke out.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that if we take my sweatpants off, I’m basically gonna be naked.”

“You’re not wearing underwear?”

“I am, but when I’m this turned on, they don’t really… cover me.”

“What?” For just a moment, curiosity won out over sheer, blinding lust. Though her body still ached for closeness to him, her inexperience with men meant that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. She knew, though, that she could genuinely ask him and he would answer her honestly. She knew that he would never tease her or make her feel small for asking a question like this. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it won’t stay beneath my underwear.”

“You’re talking about your cock?”

If she’d thought his eyes were black before, now they were the color of the space between stars. His nostrils flared. “Yeah. It’s either gonna come out the top or the leg.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and his eyes followed the movement. “Can I see?”

He groaned again, burying his face for a second time, but then, when he resurfaced, he gave her a brisk nod.

He took his hands away from hers and she didn’t waste time pulling his sweatpants down. He lifted his hips to help her and once she got them to his knees, she planted her foot on the waistband and helped him kick them off. Then, and only then, did she let her eyes travel back up to between his legs. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped as she finally understood what he was talking about. His dick, almost purplish at the crown, was big enough that though his tight boxer briefs held it trapped to his thigh, the end stuck out at least an inch.

“Oh.” She propped up on her elbow and just looked her fill.

“And if I do it this way,” he said, reaching into his underwear and rearranging his package with a wince, “it comes out the other way.”

Sure enough, now it was trapped against his stomach, that same purplish crown poking out a few inches from the waistband.

“Wow,” she breathed, good and truly fascinated by the sight. She’d never seen anything like it before.

“You want me to put the sweats back on?”

“No! No. I kind of like that you can’t… be contained.”

He laughed and pulled her closer. They were naked except for a pair of underwear on each of them and Kaya’s nerves were rearing their heads again. He seemed to know that she couldn’t just jump back in to their fevered making out. He moved slowly, warming her with his hands and mouth, tugging her closer in every way that he could.

 

***

 

 

The next morning, around dawn, Jackson woke up without opening his eyes. He knew exactly where he was and exactly who was softly snoring on his chest. They hadn’t really gone past second base last night, both of their underwear staying firmly in place. He’d known that even as mature as she was, baby steps were never a bad way to proceed in something like this. Still, though, he felt stripped raw, peeled like a banana. He felt as vulnerable with her as if he’d spent the night buried inside her.

Even in high school he hadn’t had makeout sessions like this. Hours of heated heavy petting. Both frantic and unhurried at the same time. She groaned when he shifted underneath her and he took a few selfish moments to cuddle her, smell her hair, relish the heat and weight of her.

They hadn’t slept much last night, falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning, and he knew that at some point, he’d start to feel the exhaustion. But right now, he felt light and energetic. Buoyant.

“Happy,” he muttered to himself as he rolled her to the side and covered her up in the afghan. “This is what happiness feels like.”

He wasn’t sure what time she had to be at work so he put on enough coffee for both of them and ran to take a quick shower.

As he shampooed up, he figured he had enough time before work to make her some fried eggs and he was pretty sure he had an orange they could split. Not exactly a gourmet breakfast. He made a mental note to start buying groceries if she was going to be stopping by and spending the night.

He stepped out of the shower and reached for his towel, freezing when he realized that Kaya was standing at the sink, wearing his sweatshirt from last night and brushing her teeth with his toothbrush.

Her eyes widened as she took in his naked, dripping body from shoulders to toes.

“Holy shit,” she murmured, her mouth full of toothpaste. She turned and rinsed her mouth out while he scrubbed his body dry with the towel, wrapping it around his waist and trying to get his pulse to slow down.

“You’re unbelievably hot,” she told him as he walked past her into his bedroom.

He grunted.

“No. Seriously. You’re acting like you don’t believe me, but I’m here to tell you that I’m going to be replaying that little scene of you getting out of the shower as spank bank material for the rest of my life.”

He chuffed out a pained laugh as he pulled on underwear underneath his towel and hung the towel on a hook on his closet door. “Kaya, I’m trying my best not to get hard right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to be at work in half an hour and I don’t think I can handle any more blood flow to that region for a while.” He shrugged into an undershirt and slacks. “I’m worried I caused permanent damage last night.”

“Oh.”

When he turned back to her, she was frowning, her head cocked to the side and her knees pulled up under her chin. “That’s my fault, right? Am I teasing you too much? God, you’re a grown man and I’m making you make out like a middle schooler.”

“No!” He strode over to her, crawling over top of her and pushing her down into his bed. “Ignore everything I just said. Everything about you, about last night, it’s all perfect. I seriously wouldn’t change a single thing. Nothing.”

She was quiet still and he could feel her concern. “And trust me, middle schoolers should not be making out the way we did last night. That was like R-rated making out for sure.”

She loosened a little bit but she still was worried.

“Kaya, whatever timeline you’re creating in your head about when we should or shouldn’t have sex, please just erase it. There is no timeline. It’s gonna happen whenever, if ever, it happens. And it’ll be perfect. I really, really don’t want you putting pressure on yourself. Especially not because you’re imagining some ticking clock on my personal needs. I’m a patient man. And with you, I’ve never had a better incentive to be even more patient. Seriously.”

He nuzzled into her and then she went butter soft and nuzzled into him. She muttered something that he couldn’t quite hear but he knew it was sweet whatever it was. He could feel her smile against his neck and then her legs were suddenly looping around his waist.

They hugged like that for a good long minute

“I’m hungry,” she announced after a while, seemingly ready to put her concerns behind her.

“I have fried eggs and half an orange.”

She scoffed. “That’ll barely hold me until nine a.m.!”

“Tomorrow I swear I’ll have cinnamon rolls and bacon and orange juice.”

She squeezed him a little tighter with her legs held fast around his waist. “Tomorrow?”

He swallowed hard. “Or, I mean, whenever. If this happens again. You spending the night. I promise to have better breakfast options if you sleep over again.”

“Jackson… am I making you nervous?” she asked, her voice a mixture of wonder and pure teasing.

He shoved himself up and off the bed, selecting his button-down for the day and sliding into it. “You always make me nervous, Kaya. Every single freaking day since I came back from California and I realized you were the most gorgeous creature to ever walk the earth.”

He turned back to her, expecting her to be smiling or teasing, but instead he was confronted with a frown. She stood up and walked to the bedroom door. “I’ll get started on the eggs.”

Five minutes later, he found her frying eggs in his kitchen in her own clothes. He was sorely disappointed not to be able to complete a years-old fantasy of seeing her barefoot in his kitchen in his clothes, tousled from a night spent in his arms.

She frowned up at him as he came in and then slid the eggs onto two plates. She’d cut the orange into slices and arranged those on the plate, too. He watched as she took both plates straight to the dining room table that he’d only sat at four or five times before.

He followed her and sat down, mindful of her frown, of her slightly strange energy.

“Lots of men call me gorgeous, Jackson.”

He glanced up from his food. He would have been a little grumpy at the topic if he didn’t think she was leading into something very important for her to get out in the open. “I… I’m sure they do.”

“I hear it all the time. Almost every day from someone or another. Men buy me peanut butter crackers at gas stations. They send over-the-top drinks I don’t want across bars. They follow me around the grocery store. They never look in my eyes when I’m talking. They give me smarmy, ridiculous pick-up lines and call me names when I don’t fall, swooning, at their feet.”

“Kaya—”

“I’m not complaining about being attractive. I’m sure the world is a much easier place for me to live in because I’m good-looking. It’s a privilege. But it also means that it takes people even longer to get to know me, if they even bother to get to know me at all. The real me. Who I am inside. What I have to offer the world.” Her eyes pinned him in place. “Please tell me this ‘mate’ thing of yours isn’t just you being horny for me. Because of the way I look.”

His mouth dropped open. He was utterly shocked by her words. “God, no.”

She frowned again. “You said it yourself. You’ve wanted me for years, ever since you came home and realized I’d gotten hot. Isn’t it possible that you’re just all befuddled by your hormones?”

He pushed his plate away, grappling for the words. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that my attraction to you isn’t unbelievably potent. But Kaya, there are a lot of beautiful women in the world. I’ve met some of them. I’ve even…” He trailed off, an idea sparking in his mind. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Okay, this is either a brilliant idea or this is going to backfire and leave me a mangled mess.” He looked up at her beautiful frown. “I’ll take my chances.”

He typed on his phone for a second and then handed it over.

“Why am I looking at a picture of Miss California?”

“She was my girlfriend for a while in college.”

Kaya narrowed her eyes at the phone, holding it even closer. Jackson couldn’t gauge her reaction at all and fought the urge to tear the phone out of her hands and punch himself in the face for his stupidity.

“She’s pretty.” Kaya’s eyes went even narrower. “Like, really beautiful. She’s, like, ‘walk into a wall because you’re not looking where you’re walking’ type of pretty.”

Jackson gave a short nod.

Kaya tipped her head to one side, studying the picture some more.

“She’s prettier than I am.”

Jackson couldn’t help but scoff. “No one is prettier than you are.”

“No, really.” She held the phone out of his reach. “She really is prettier than I am. That’s a good thing. I think I get what you’re trying to prove. That you’re not after me simply because I’m the hottest you’ll ever have. That’s reassuring actually.”

She handed his phone back and he immediately put it away. To his utter amazement, she was kind of getting the point he’d made without scratching his eyes out with her pretty little cat claws. “I’m not trying to prove that I’ve had hotter girlfriends than you. I’m not that big of an asshole. What I’m really trying to say is that ‘pretty’ isn’t what does it for me, Kaya. You’re what does it for me. Chloe,” he held up his phone to indicate who he was talking about, “she was, is, beautiful. But we didn’t click at all. She didn’t let me in to her life, I didn’t let her into mine. When we touched, my mind would wander to other places. Who she was didn’t utterly and completely captivate me. You, on the other hand… how do I explain this? You’re like how certain flowers have evolved to attract bees to spread their pollen. There are all sorts of pretty flowers out there, but the bee really wants to get to that one flower in particular. It’s biological, predetermined. Destined. Undeniable.”

“Are you admitting to wanting to spread my pollen?” she asked archly, sucking on an orange slice.

He flushed. “I’m just saying that I’m not just horny for you, Kaya. I’m drawn to you, to all the aspects of who you are. And for a long time, I didn’t let myself get to know you well enough to even get past how attractive you are. But the more I know you, the more I’m drawn to you. The way you talk to me. Push me. Your need to help others. The way you’re always there for my family. All of it magnetizes me to you. I won’t say that it’s not because you’re beautiful. Because you are. But it’s all part of one thing. It’s all part of you.”

“Hmm.” She cocked her head to one side again, finished her egg in two bites, and swallowed down her coffee. “Good answer.” She leaned across the table, kissed him soundly on the lips, and took some orange slices for the road. “I’ll be late for work if I don’t go now. See you later.”

He watched her grab her leftovers from the fridge, sending him a finger-wagging wave, and then she was gone.

He sagged backward in his chair, a wave of fatigue passing over him. He could run fourteen miles two or even three times a week and barely feel it; he’d always been a man of enormous energy. But dating a twenty-five-year-old was enough to nearly wipe him out.