Chapter 13
Jackson
Ihad every intention of leaving her alone in the field. What else was I going to do with her? I’d gotten what I wanted: to finally know what her cunt felt like, and from the evidence of my come leaking out of her, that mission had been accomplished.
My whole plan had played out perfectly. She had no choice but to drive past the cornfield to reach the location I’d sent to her—the address for my family cottage.
Just when she was approaching, I hit the button to trigger the device I’d installed in her car a few days ago when she’d stopped by James’ place.
A device that killed the power to the car.
I knew she’d be fucking terrified of the cornfield, and truthfully, I hadn’t expected her to run when she saw me coming with the scarecrow mask. I figured she’d stay in her car and attempt to fight me, but it was so much fucking better seeing her frightened face seconds before she bolted.
It warmed my blackened soul.
The whole time I was following her, I was hard as steel, the Little General desperate to sink into something warm and tight, and damn, did her cunt exceed my expectations.
I’d always planned to leave her after I got what I wanted; I was even going to be kind enough to let her car restart so she could drive herself home.
But then she said those words.
“I’m scared.”
She’d sounded so fucking small that I couldn’t help but remember her as the young girl who confessed her nightmares to me while we cuddled in her treehouse. Guilt slammed into me, and despite my brain yelling at me to just walk away, my heart screamed not to leave her.
My heart won, which was why she was huddled under a blanket in the passenger side of the truck I’d opted to use for the evening, attempting to warm her hands against the shitty heater.
Neither of us spoke, and while I focused on the road ahead, my mind replayed the moment I thrust inside her for the first time. Christ, I was getting hard again just thinking about it.
Her muttered whisper rang in my ears, telling me she couldn’t come for me and that she was broken. She wasn’t broken; I’d felt how close she was, but like a switch had been thrown, her body stiffened underneath my touch before it felt like all her energy drained in a heartbeat.
It made me all the more curious about her relationship with Alec, almost confirming my theory that he’d never made her come.
Or maybe my ego was bruised. I’d never fucked a girl and left them unsatisfied.
In fact, it was one of my golden rules: no coming until I’d made whoever I was fucking come first.
A silent war waged in my head, one half wanting to drive her back to her car and abandon her on the side of the road, the other half wanting to dig deeper to find out more about why she struggled to climax and the relationship she had with Alec.
By the time I pulled up to my family’s summer cottage and killed the engine, the thought of taking Kiera back to her car had long since disappeared. She followed me out of the truck, pausing as I unlocked the door and let her inside.
“I…I’m filthy. I don’t want to get mud everywhere,” Kiera said, looking down at herself before glancing around the large entryway.
She was right. Her entire body was caked in dry mud, her hair was matted, and her pants hung off her from where I’d cut them with the knife.
“Shower’s down there to the left,” I replied, my tone stoic as I pointed in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.
“Thanks.” She kicked her shoes off by the front door and headed in the direction I’d pointed, only to stop and turn back to me. “Can I…uh, I mean, do you have some clothes I can change into after I’ve showered?”
I stomped past her, heading for the upstairs shower. “No. You can spend the rest of the night naked. I’m not done with you yet.”
And I wasn’t. I was far from done with her.
The whole time I showered, question after question about Kiera’s relationship with Alec churned in my head, and it took a whole lot of effort to ignore that sliver of jealousy that rolled through me whenever I thought about Alec fucking her.
I didn’t know why I was so bothered, yet as I changed into a fresh pair of boxers from the pile of clothes I kept for emergencies at the cottage, I headed downstairs, intent on delving deeper into their relationship.
Kiera emerged a few minutes later as I poured a glass of wine for her, hoping it would loosen her tongue.
I couldn’t stop my gaze from roaming down her shapely body, a towel wrapped around her.
The pale skin of her arms and legs were blotchy from where she’d scrubbed herself clean of every trace of mud, and her damp hair hung loosely around her shoulders.
“Lose the towel,” I huffed as she crossed to join me at the bar.
“Jack-”
“Now, Kiera.”
A heavy sigh left her as her shoulders slumped, but doing as she was told, she removed the towel, draping it over the back of the couch. My cock twitched as I took in every single inch of her.
The swell of her tits. The dusky pink shade of her pert nipples. Her flat stomach with an old scar above her pubic bone, a C-section scar, I presumed. My eyes traveled down to the streak of hair on her pussy, and more blood rushed south.
At this rate, I wouldn’t be asking her any questions. I’d be fucking her until I discovered what made her scream my name as she coated my cock in her release.
I tore my gaze away, cursing internally. She was fucking stunning. And I hated it. I hated the feelings she elicited from deep inside of me, feelings I had no place for.
Reminding myself of the end game, I poured a shot of whiskey and carried the two drinks over to the couch, putting them down on the table with Kiera tracking my every move, her eyes wide and worried.
“Sit,” I instructed, nodding to the couch opposite to the one I’d taken. “Let’s talk.”
Her eyes narrowed as she took hesitant steps before perching her ass on the edge of the couch and folding her arms across her chest in a pitiful attempt to stop me staring at her tits.
“What do you want to talk about? The weather?”
I smirked. “We could talk about Billie’s father.” She closed her eyes, her mouth moving as if she was muttering a curse, but no sound came out. “I’m kidding. I didn’t think you’d want to tell me. Especially as you know this will all end between us, and I think you’re beginning to enjoy our games.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?”
I shrugged. “Just a feeling. Here.” I slid the glass of wine across to her before taking a mouthful of my whiskey.
Kiera eyes the glass suspiciously. “I can’t, Billie’s at a sleepover, and if she needs me to collect her, I want to be able to drive.”
Not bothering to remind her that her car was out of action until I decided otherwise, I leaned back against the couch.
I wanted to test something.
From what I’d seen on the cameras around Kiera’s home, I had a feeling she had developed a little addiction to alcohol, and I wanted to see how long she could go with the glass of wine standing on the table before she gave in.
“Let’s talk about Alec.”
Her brows lifted to her hairline. “Why the hell do you want to talk about Alec?”
“Because. Do you love him?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
I snorted at the insincerity in her voice.“Maybe try to sound a little more convincing next time, Kiki.” Her lips pursed as she looked away, unable to hold my scrutinizing stare. “Answer me this, then. Does he make you happy?”
“He takes care of Billie and me.”
“So, you’re using him for his money then?”
Her eyes flashed to mine, anger shining in them at my accusation. “As much as he uses me.”
My brow lifted. I’d expected her to attempt to convince me she was happy and in love with the man she would one day marry. For some inexplicable reason, the streak of jealousy I’d felt in the shower washed through me once more.
Why the hell was someone as deserving as Kiera wasting her life in a loveless relationship?
I shut that thought down before it could fully take hold. Kiera wasn’t deserving of anything. She was nothing but a liar and a cheat, and the longer she sat in front of me with her delectable body on display, the more I was getting ready to make her cheat on her fiancé once more.
I sipped my whiskey, dragging out the silence that had surrounded us before asking, “Has he ever made you come?”
A flush covered her cheeks, flowing down to her delicate throat and chest. “I’m not talking about mine and Alec’s sex life with you.”
I hid my smirk as she uncrossed her arms to grab the glass of wine from the table, gulping down an enormous mouthful. I knew it wouldn’t be long until she caved. Placing the glass back down, her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip.
Fuck, I wanted that mouth on me.
Lifting my gaze to meet hers, I tried my hardest not to focus on the way my cock was pulsing in my boxers. “Answer the question. Or maybe you’d like me to phone him to ask if he knows you fake it when he fucks you.”
Kiera shook her head, muttering more silent curses. “You’re a real asshole sometimes, Jackson. You know that.”
“Just sometimes?” I replied, grinning at her, knowing it would irk her. Sure enough, she met my grin with a scowl, her eyes flashing with fury. “Come on, Kiki. I want to know if he’s ever made you scream.”
“No. He hasn’t. Happy now?” She reached for the glass of wine again, this time downing the rest of the contents.
“Delirious.”
Standing, I strode back to the bar to grab the wine bottle, silently gloating that it wasn’t just me who had failed to make Kiera come. But with gloating came determination. I didn’t know why I had the sudden need to be the one to make Kiera come when her fiancé couldn’t.
Call it male pride.
Or maybe it was my own stubborn pride, because I didn’t think Kiera was incapable of reaching a climax. She wasn’t broken like she’d whispered back at the cornfield. She just needed someone to learn what made her squeal.