37. Jackson
37
jackson
Margot leads me through the desolate lobby of the hotel, but when she starts walking the wrong way, I tighten my grip on her hand. She looks over her shoulder at me and shakes her head. Keeping her voice low, she says, “I want to see the pool.”
You’d think she just said something a lot dirtier with the way those words grabbed my dick’s attention. “But I lost the bet.”
She raises a mischievous brow. “Maybe I want to add to my prize.”
This time my hand tightens around hers for a completely different reason. Sometimes I feel like I know Margot better than anyone, but then there are times—like right now—that she takes me completely by surprise. I’ve never seen her this bold.
Catching up to her plan, I blink the shock away and hurry after her. “You’re serious?”
She shrugs innocently. “We’ll see.”
The pool is tucked away in the back of the hotel, and the dim glowing coach lights make me wonder if the area will be locked. Everything around us is quiet, and I get the feeling we aren’t supposed to be back here this late. Margot glances at me, suddenly looking less brave, but even though there’s no one around, the door is unlocked.
Her eyes widen, some of that excitement and mischief returning. “This is nice!” she says in a loud whisper, and I follow in behind her as she takes in the space.
Stone pavers surround the pool, giving it an outdoor feel even though it’s not. The only sound is the gentle flow of water from two small fountains, and there’s something about finally being alone with Margot—really alone—that puts my mind at ease.
I thought she’d want to go to Times Square. I thought she’d want to explore, and I thought I’d be able to tell her I love her under the glow of the city lights. But she’d rather be with me in this hotel, and I didn’t know it was possible, but I think I might love her more for it.
Keeping my distance, I let her take everything in. She marvels at the soft lighting, and the beautiful fountains, and before I know it, she’s slipping off her shoes and dipping her toes in the water.
Glancing up at me, she smiles. “It’s warm.”
My eyebrows lift. “Yeah? Want to go in?”
She beams brighter. “Yes.” Her face falls and she looks around with a crease forming between her brow. “Do you think there are cameras?”
I huff out a laugh. “Yes.”
Her eyes widen and lock on me.
“We’re at a hotel in New York City, of course there are cameras. At least one, anyway.” I look up and nod to a small black dome on a metal arm. It’s the only one I see. “There.”
She follows my gaze, her arms dropping at her sides like all her fun has been ruined.
I walk over to the camera, and as I do, I pull my black T- shirt over my head. I stop just underneath it and look back at Margot. “What do you say, Red? Want to go for a swim?”
The apprehension wanes from her expression the longer she looks at me. “Have you been working out?”
Looking down at my shirt, I double up the material as I let out a breath of laughter. “A little.” It turns out boredom is a great motivator, and nothing is more boring than spending hours in an RV as you drive from city to city. When my eyes meet hers again, I raise my eyebrows and hold up the shirt to remind her of my question.
She’s biting her bottom lip as she shamelessly takes me in, and just that look could make me hard. With one last glance at the camera, she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go for a swim.”
An easy smile pulls at the corner of my mouth as I toss my shirt over the lens, blocking its view. “Margot Reid, breaking all the rules.”
“To be fair, you’re a terrible influence.”
When I turn to face her, she carefully grasps the bottom hem of her shirt on each side before slowly lifting it over her head. I drink in every sliver of skin as she reveals more of herself inch by inch. I should walk toward her. I should lessen the distance between us. Hell, I should fucking say something. But I’m mesmerized by her. I’m completely in a trance as she slowly unbuttons her jeans and gently shimmies them down her thighs, her eyes never leaving mine.
She’s just in her underwear now. Light pink cotton panties and a matching bra. Reaching behind her back, she unclasps her bra and lets it slide down her arms. Her ivory skin in the glow of the coach lights is fucking perfection. Those pink, taut nipples are perked and begging to be sucked, and my cock throbs against the strain of my pants at the thought.
“Jackson?”
I blink, darting my gaze up to meet hers. I hadn’t realized I was committing the curves of her breasts to memory. “Right. Sorry,” I rasp as I take a step toward her, then another. Halfway there, I remember I still have my fucking pants on, and practically hop on one leg to kick off my shoes and get out of my damn jeans. By the time I’m standing in front of her, I’m in nothing but my briefs. My hands grip her, and my thumb brushes over the pebbled skin of her nipple, making her gasp. That’s all it takes for me to lose it. I mean, other than the fact that I’ve been dying to be inside her again all night. I swallow the sound, and without wasting time, I lift her up. She wraps her legs around my hips, her muffled squeal getting buried in my neck. I carry her down the steps and lower her into the water.
But I refuse to let go.
If anything, I grip her tighter, my cock pressed against the soft cotton of her panties. I should have taken my boxers off before scooping her into my arms, but even with the added layer, Margot stills and lets out a breathy sigh near my ear that sends me spiraling.
My mouth finds hers again in a rush of need and heat. I should slow things down, but I can’t. I can’t control myself around her right now. It’s been too long, I’m too fucking hard, and I love her too damn much. My lips crash against hers with a hunger I haven’t felt in months, and when she sucks in a breath, I take full advantage. My tongue claims every part of that gasp, until she melts into me. She completely surrenders, opening for me to kiss her deeper, and every time my tongue meshes with hers, I slip further into oblivion.
“Jackson,” Margot pants.
I move to kissing her neck, my hand palming her perfect breast beneath the water. “Hmm?” It’s the only response I’ll give myself time for.
“We should probably slow down.” But even as the words leave her lips, her legs fall open, and she grinds against my cock like she’s begging to be fucked .
As much as I hate it, I know she’s right. We aren’t even technically skinny dipping yet, and I already want to carry her back to our room and have my way with her. She just feels so fucking good. Running my hands down her body, I lift her on to the edge of the pool and stand in the shallow water so I can keep kissing her.
Margot gasps at the sudden loss of warmth, her skin breaking out into an elaborate pattern of goosebumps to compliment her freckles. Pulling back, I kiss her collarbone, her shoulder, trying to hold myself together as I do. The pebbled skin of her nipples calls my name, and I take one into my mouth. My teeth gently bite down, and she cries out before I run my tongue over the sting and suck.
Hooking my fingers into the sides of her cotton underwear, Margot’s words come out in a rush. “What are you doing?”
Releasing her nipple from my mouth, I look up at her. “Slowing things down,” I say as I gently maneuver the pink cotton down her body. Once I slip them over her ankles, I wring them out and set them onto the brick pavers. “See, we’re officially skinny dipping.” I lift her leg slightly and kiss the inside of her knee.
A laugh floats from her lips, but she’s looking at the ceiling like it’s taking everything for her to control herself, too. “I think I’m supposed to be in the water for that.”
Kissing the inside of her thigh, I murmur, “Semantics,” against her skin, unconcerned. “You’re naked by a pool, and you’re mine. Let me enjoy this.”
A faint smile flutters across her lips. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my actual prize. I want lyrics, Phillips.”
Everything in me tenses, but she’s right. She won the bet, and if lyrics is what she wants, lyrics is what she’ll get.