Chapter 30
Ellary
With a sigh, I close the door on the last of my family, then I head into the living room to find Jackson sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed.
“Was that everyone?” he asks.
I sink into the couch beside him. “Yep.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder, tucking me closer to his side. “That was exhausting.”
“But fun.”
“Definitely fun.” He flashes me a grin. “We should do it again.”
My parents or his have almost always hosted us for barbecues. Having everyone come to us was more fun than I thought it would be, but I haven’t started the clean-up yet, so my opinion on hosting is likely to change, depending on how long it takes to deal with the mess in the kitchen.
“I thought my dad was going to punch you in the face.”
“I thought I was never leaving that kitchen alive,” he says, shaking his head.
I laugh. “He wouldn’t have killed you.”
Jackson stares at me.
I relent. “Okay, so maybe he might have. But he knows you’ve been working hard to earn my forgiveness and prove you won’t hurt me again.” I follow it up with a jaw-cracking yawn that makes him chuckle.
He kisses my temple. “There’s still some cleaning to do in the kitchen. Why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll handle it?"
“It’s okay,” I say with another yawn. “The stuff that should be in the refrigerator is put away. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”
And with tomorrow being a Sunday, I can take my time cleaning all day if I have to.
Before my parents left, they helped wrap up the food and put it away.
There were a bunch of leftovers since everyone brought sides, and Jackson went crazy at the store, buying enough meat to feed a football team.
We sent everyone home with a disposable foil tray for an easy lunch or dinner tomorrow.
With one load of dishes in the dishwasher to put away, thanks to my mom, who had the bright idea to start it while the BBQ was still going, hopefully there won’t be too much cleanup to do tomorrow.
I’d intended on cleaning tonight, but the second my ass hit the couch, I knew that was it for me. I am never moving again.
“This feels nice,” I murmur, relaxing against Jackson.
He hums, drawing me against his chest and brushing his lips across my forehead in a sweet caress.
The house is quiet; the faint clicking of a clock and the distant bang of someone in their garage are the only sounds this late Saturday evening.
He yawns. “Shit. I’m falling asleep.”
“Me too.” I stretch, my body sinking into Jackson’s, his arms sliding around mine as he releases a contented sigh.
My head tips back automatically, and his lips brush mine.
A slow, rumbling groan drifts from his mouth into mine. I savor the taste of his kiss, moaning as we fit perfectly together. My arms wind around his shoulders, and as he angles his head, our kiss deepens.
For ten perfect seconds, our tongues tangle, our breathing deepens, and his hand clenches my hair, holding me close against him.
With a curse, he breaks the kiss, panting. “Shit. We have to stop. I have to go.”
The sound of my heartbeat fills my head. A warm flush starts on my cheeks and spreads downward over my neck and breasts. My voice is quiet and hesitant as I whisper, “Or you could stay.”
He gulps. “You want me to stay?”
The awkward sex conversation we had in his car flashes back into my mind.
We haven’t talked about sex again. Not with each other and not with the therapist. Not yet.
The consultation with the marriage counselor was an introductory, nearly hour-long conversation to discuss our history and what we were hoping to get out of marriage counseling.
My cheeks heat. “If you want to. I mean, unless it’s weird or—”
“I’ll walk out of there the second it gets weird,” he gently cuts in.
“So we’ll keep doing this until it gets weird,” I clarify, my heart starting to race at the idea we might be doing this.
He swallows hard, and I track the action in the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.
“Can I carry you upstairs to our bed and show you how much I love you, Ellie? And if it gets weird for you, I’ll get up and leave, and we can try again if you want, or not try again and speak to the marriage counselor about it? ”
“I’m heavier now than the last time you picked me up. I will never forgive you if you drop me down the stairs.” I say it with a smile so he knows I’m joking.
He doesn’t return it. “You’re safe with me, Ellie. I will never do anything to make you doubt it ever again.”
I lift my hand to his face, cupping his jaw as my smile falls away. “I believe you.”
Maybe I’m stupid for taking him back. Maybe I’m naive for believing he won’t hurt me again, but I can’t help the way I feel. I love him, and when he looks at me, I see the same feeling reflected back at me.
His eyes flutter closed, and he grips my wrist, holding my palm to his jaw, his stubble prickling against my skin.
Then, with a sigh, his eyes open and he turns my wrist, pressing a kiss at the very center of my palm. “Ready for me to pick you up?”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m heavy. You might hurt your back.”
He shuffles to the edge of the couch, sliding one arm around my back and the other under my knees. He stands and immediately wobbles.
I suck in a breath, ready to demand he put me down, only to glare at him when he flashes me a grin and drops a kiss on my lips. “You’re not heavy, Ellie. And even if you were, I would throw out my back rather than drop you.”
Settled comfortably against his chest, I release a sigh as he strides out of the living room. “That does not make me feel good, Jackson. For you or your back. Hold up.”
He stops, and I switch off the living room light as we pass it.
“Want me to head to the kitchen so you can get that light too?” he offers.
My lips twitch. “You’re showing off how strong you are, aren’t you?”
“Impress my wife at any opportunity available to me? Absolutely.”
I shake my head. “Okay. Just know that I’m not impressed.”
But secretly, I am, and he knows it from the way his eyes sparkle with amusement at my barefaced lie.
This is who we were before we were husband and wife. Best friends who spent as much time talking and laughing as we did kissing and making love.
I hope we can get back to that, but it’s going to take time and therapy. Jackson is worth that, and so is my family. I want to make it work. So does he.
With all the downstairs lights off, he carries me up the stairs and into what was once our bedroom.
My awkwardness returns in full force within sight of our bed.
“I changed the sheets,” I tell him unnecessarily.
I switched out our usual green for something pink and girly.
Something so different that it would feel like I was in a new, different bed than the one I’d shared with Jackson.
“I thought…” I clear my throat. “It’s part of the reason I didn’t want to move back into the house. ”
“I never did anything with her here,” Jackson says quietly. “I never could have here.”
I nod.
He settles me into bed, and I lean over to flick on the lamp on the nightstand as he kicks off his sneakers and climbs in beside me.
We’re both on top of the sheets, but it’s always been so warm in our bedroom that we only ever reach for the comforter in winter.
From spring to summer and the start of fall, we’ve always been happiest with just a sheet or two.
I’m nervous about how strange this might feel.
Not just because I’m pregnant now, and my belly means Jackson has to lean over a little when he kisses me.
We haven’t done this in six months. The longest we ever went without sex is a week, and that was when we had the flu, and the only thing we were interested in was sleeping and watching TV.
It doesn’t hit me that I’m not the only one nervous when his hand shakes as he brushes the hair from my cheek.
“This is almost like the first time I was trying to convince myself you wouldn’t laugh in my face when I kissed you.”
“I thought I would poke you in the eye with my nose.”
He raises his eyebrow at my bizarre fear.
“I was not thinking rationally at the time. I liked you a lot, and I wanted our first kiss to be perfect.”
His lips tilt up in a smile. “Me too.”
“The one outside the diner was nice.” I smile at the memory of our first kiss.
His expression is sheepish. “The one outside your house when I thought your dad would kill me when he caught us was terrifying.”
I laugh, recalling the front door swinging open as Jackson had me pinned against the wall.
Of course my dad was going to notice the porch light was on, see Jackson’s empty car parked nearby, and come out to investigate.
But teenage brains work differently, I guess, because he scared the shit out of both of us.
It had been mortifying.
Jackson had backed away from me so fast that he’d tumbled off the three stairs leading up to the covered front porch, picked himself up, and practically taken off running after asking me if I wanted to go out again.
Even though my dad had been right there, and he’d just fallen off my front porch, he’d still asked me out.
I’d known then that two dates wouldn’t come close to being enough. That I would want Jackson Olsen in my life for as long as I could have him.
I’m smiling as he leans in to kiss me.
His mouth captures mine, his hand stroking up and down my curves, drawing my body against his until I’m restless and hungry.
I keep waiting for things to get weird.
They don’t feel weird. My body hums, and electricity arcs across my skin as Jackson breaks the kiss and slowly peels the clothes off me.
I feel beautiful as his lips ghost across my neck, sucking my nipples into his mouth until my back arches up off the bed. He angles downward, lingering to press a possessive kiss on my belly, and down to settle between my thighs.
His tongue, fervent, demanding, and oh so hungry, pulls me into a climax so fast my body trembles with aftershocks as he slides up the bed.
He fights with his clothes, shucking off his pants and shirt before reclaiming my lips again. I taste myself in his kiss and feel his desperation through the hands he runs over me and the hard length of his cock nudging my thigh.
“Ellie?” He breaks the kiss to look at me.
I nod. “Yes.”
We move together, then break apart laughing when my bump stops us from getting as close as we both want to. It’s not the least bit weird when he gently turns me onto my side, my back to him. Using his thigh to nudge my legs wider apart, he slowly pushes into me.
My fingers grip the pillow beside my head, and I moan as I part my legs wider and he slips deeper into me with a husky, sexy groan.
“You feel so good, Ellie,” he whispers, pressing his face against the back of my neck as I bury my face into the pillow.
He pulls his hips away, and I push back against him as he slides deep again.
There’s no rush. Jackson sets a steady rhythm that slowly drives me crazy. His cock tunnels deep, and he pauses for two seconds before withdrawing and working himself back in.
He picks up the pace as I whimper, needing more to tip me over the edge.
The soft slap of our skin fills the room. Sweat breaks out all over me, and with each thrust, I inch closer to the edge. I tumble over it with a muffled moan, and Jackson shudders, pressing deep, and holds himself there.
He kisses the back of my shoulder, and his voice is husky when he asks me, “You okay, Ellie?”
“Hmmm.” I settle into the bed as he wraps his arm around me, spooning me.
Jackson is quiet for the next several seconds, holding me close to his still racing heart. He’s softening inside me, but making no move to pull out as he kisses my throat.
I shiver in response. “That feels good,” I moan.
His lips curve into a smile as his hand slides down between my thighs. “Then I won’t stop.”
My head tips back, and I let out a soft, breathy sigh at his feather-light caresses on my neck.
His fingers never stop moving over my clit, and my hips work in time to his fluttering but increasingly firm touch.
I hadn’t been sure I could climax again so soon, but my body is as hungry for Jackson as it’s always been.
He’s semi-hard when he starts thrusting inside me again. His pace is unhurried. There’s no race to orgasm, no urgency, just soft, sweet, lazy lovemaking until we both shatter again.
My heart is slowing its frantic pace when Jackson covers us with a sheet and kisses the back of my neck.
“Ellie? I’m in danger of falling asleep in the next ten seconds, but I will get up and leave if you want me to.”
I grip his arm and draw it tighter around me. “Stay, Jackson. Stay with me.”