15. Kelley
15
KELLEY
W hat was I thinking, rushing out of there so soon? I had questions, and I wanted answers, answers I wouldn’t get. Not now.
When I close the door to my room, it feels sanctuary-like for the first time since Jackson hauled me here. I’ve grown used to the sprawling windows overlooking Jackson’s elegant courtyard. It’s a harsh reality, and every day it digs a little deeper under my skin, but I'm beginning to like it here.
It has to stop.
I have a life, and I need to get back to it, no matter what, which is why I’m kicking myself. As I pace the room, shuddering in the evening light, I realize my mistake. I should’ve stayed and made him answer me.
I should have stood firm, stared him down, and demanded the truth. When will he let me go? Does he even intend to? I can't allow myself to get comfortable here, no matter how alluring it sometimes feels to simply give in to him.
Frustrated, I fall back onto the plush bed. This isn't home. I don't belong here, captive in this lush prison.
But even as determination wells up inside me anew, I feel the lingering ghosts of Jackson's touch, the addictive thrill of our volatile chemistry. Somehow when I'm with him, the lines blur between right and wrong, control and submission.
I need to escape tonight before I lose myself completely. Before his world starts to feel like my own. But knowing what’s out there, and how helpless I would be even if I could leave, I know it’s futile.
But if I can’t escape without, maybe I can escape within. After all, Jackson has a massive library. I wonder if the books there have even been touched. And since I never see him anymore, and the time here slips away so easily, I guess I can consider myself as much a guest as a prisoner. And a guest gets library access, so says me.
As I creep out the door and sneak around the corner, my breath nearly collapses in my lungs when I rush into a maid, seemingly from nowhere,
“Excuse me,” she says, without looking directly at me. They never do.
It's further proof that I’m truly here at Jackson’s mercy, but it won’t stop me from going further. If I’m to be here long term, I’d better have something good to read.
I slide along the wall, wary of any sounds in the cavernous mansion. My steps are feather-light, breaths shallow.
The opulent corridors seem deserted, but I don't trust the illusion. Jackson has eyes everywhere. I ease open a heavy wooden door, cringing at each creak. The musty scent of ancient pages reaches me - the library. Sanctuary, and perhaps the key to my freedom. I slip inside and carefully push the door closed. Now to find what I need without arousing suspicion.
As I slip into the dimly lit library, I’m comforted by the familiar smell of leather and old pages. Running my fingers along the ornate wooden shelves, I pause to glance at some of the titles - classic works of literature side-by-side with rare antique books. Despite the circumstances, I can’t help admiring Jackson’s impressive collection.
My eyes land on the balcony overlooking the library, transporting me back to the charged encounter I shared with Jackson there. I can almost feel the ghost of his fingers digging into my hips, his breath hot on my neck...
My face heats up and I shake my head, banishing the vivid memories. I came here on a mission, not to daydream about him again.
Moving deeper among the shelves, I trail my hand along the rows of spines, looking for anything that might help distract me.
Standing on my tiptoes atop the library ladder, I reach for a large leather-bound book on the top shelf. It looks promising - maybe an atlas or a collection of maps. Unaware of Jackson's presence, my hand wavers, and I lose my balance.
I topple backward off the ladder, a gasp escaping my lips. Books and papers cascade around me as I brace for impact with the unforgiving floor.
Instead, I fall into Jackson's waiting arms. He must have come upon me silently and positioned himself behind the ladder. My body crashes against his in an unexpected embrace.
For a moment we stand frozen, my heart hammering wildly. I'm enveloped in his strength, one muscular arm wrapped firmly around my back, the other tucked beneath my knees. I grip his shoulders reflexively to steady myself.
Slowly Jackson sets me on my feet but doesn't relinquish his hold. Our eyes lock and a current of tension sparks between us. His face is unreadable, but his body is taut as a bowstring pressed against mine.
"Th-thank you," I stammer, pulse racing for an entirely different reason now.
A playful smile curves his lips. "Didn't anyone warn you about climbing the shelves? You have to be more...careful."
Despite my better judgment, I'm helplessly drawn to Jackson's rugged allure. His piercing eyes seem to look right through me, and the cut glass lines of his jaw make my fingers itch to trace them. His muscular physique exudes a sensual danger that awakens a primal hunger deep inside me, though I loathe admitting his magnetism even to myself.
His lips are on me before I can stop either of us.
Jackson's arms lock around me like iron bands, one hand tangling in my hair to hold me in place. For one dizzying moment, I'm lost, consumed by the fire of his touch and the taste of his mouth slanting over mine.
Then my senses return in a dizzying rush. My hands push at his chest, breaking the kiss with a surge of willpower. I gasp for air, my pulse racing with adrenaline and unspent desire.
Jackson's eyes blaze, his grip unrelenting. "Don't fight this, Kelley. You want me as much as I want you." His voice rumbles low, more temptation than threat.
"Let me go, Jackson." My demand comes out embarrassingly breathless. I curse my traitorous body for responding to him so easily.
With obvious reluctance, his hold loosens. But he doesn't step back, keeping me caged against the bookshelf. His smoldering gaze bores into me.
"We're not done here."
A promise and a warning. Jackson turns to leave, and this time I don't stop him. My lips still tingle from the heat of his kiss. I sink back against the shelf on trembling legs, his parting words echoing through my mind.
Another kiss seals my fate, the passion overwhelming my resolve.
Jackson's mouth claims mine again, insistent and demanding. This time I don't fight him. I return the kiss with abandon, lost in the storm of emotion and desire that he conjures.
His fingers dig almost painfully into my hips, pinning me in place. But I'm not trying to escape now. My hands slide up his chest, over hard muscle, until my arms twine around his neck.
I rise on tiptoe, molding my body to his, eliminating any space between us. Jackson makes a ragged sound low in his throat that sends heat spiraling through me.
His tongue sweeps past my parted lips, deepening the kiss. I meet him stroke for stroke, drunk on his taste and the thrill of letting go. Of giving in. I shouldn't want this so badly, but I'm helpless to resist.
When we finally break for air, Jackson trails heated kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I let my head fall back, eyes closed, awash in sensation.
"That's my girl," he rasps in my ear. His teeth graze my skin and I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. Every nerve is alive, screaming for more.
The rasp of his stubble against my tender flesh is intoxicating. But through the haze of desire, doubts creep in. I've let this go too far. I'm losing myself in him.
With a monumental effort I still my restless hands and find my voice. "Jackson...wait. I-I can't..."
He lifts his head, eyes gleaming in the low light. Chest heaving, I hold his gaze, willing strength back into my limbs. This has to stop before he takes everything.
My fate balances on a razor's edge once more.