29. Chapter 29 Jack
Chapter twenty-nine
My princess walks back into the bedroom, and while I would rather have her without any clothes at all, I can’t deny how gorgeous and how Margot she looks in her pink satin babydoll nightgown.
Her hair is brushed out, and her makeup-free face is glowing from her nighttime skin regimen, looking fully sated.
And fuck me if this isn't my favorite version of her yet.
Nighttime might be a stretch since it’s well into the morning. The plan was to take her to dinner, then bring her back and watch the fireworks on my balcony. I guess we weren't too far from that. There were definitely fireworks.
I’m sitting propped up against the headboard of the bed when she climbs in, snuggling up to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And I guess it is.
She’s barely made it into bed when she starts to doze off.
I know she’s tired. That’s the whole reason I stopped fucking her in the first place.
No, that's not right. Not fucking . I was worshipping her, trying with every bit of my being to show her how much she means to me. If this were the only night I would ever have her, I wanted her to feel just how deeply she’s ingrained in my soul.
And just in case my actions weren’t enough, I told her exactly how perfect she was.
And she was perfect. Is perfect. Will always be my perfect, brilliant girl.
I watched in awe as I drew orgasm after orgasm from her flawless body, delighting in the melody of every moan that came from her lips.
I held off as long as I could for the first one, lost in the beauty of our bodies tangled together.
But as my release came and went, I knew I couldn’t stop.
Not ready for our connection to end, I just kept driving into her.
It wasn't like my erection was going anywhere.
Not with my princess naked and writhing in pleasure beneath me. The other half of my soul.
“I love you, Jackie,” she says, snapping my attention back to the present, where she’s still in my arms.
God, I love you doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel. How do I use words to tell her how I truly feel about her? I love you too feels like a poor imitation of the real thing. How do I put into words just how she’s the axis my entire world spins around?
Before I can think of what to say, she’s out, sleeping so soundly in my arms. I reach over and grab my phone to take a picture of my Sleeping Beauty, but when I see multiple texts from Ledger, panic sets in.
How the fuck does he know? I’m trembling as I open the messages, expecting the absolute worst. I told him I wouldn’t be able to make it tonight, but there is no way he’s found out why.
Ledger:
The club looks amazing. You outdid yourself.
I’m looking forward to seeing what you do in New York.
I’m sorry you weren’t able to make it, but maybe it’s for the best.
If you had been here to witness the little show Sloane put on, I would’ve had to kill you.
I’m finally able to breathe. He doesn’t know. For now at least. Fuck, he’s going to kill me.
It’ll be fine. We can keep our relationship to ourselves for a while, at least until I can prove to them that I can do right by her. She’ll stay in New York with me, and we’ll be fine.
Until she realizes she made a mistake by not taking this internship.
I would follow her to Paris in a heartbeat.
I would tell Ledger that I couldn’t do the renovation and would find a worthy replacement.
But then I would have to tell him why I was bailing, and he would kill me.
It’s not enough time. I’ve spent a decade with him, fucking our way around the world.
Until he met Sloane, neither of us had even been in a relationship.
Falling so deeply in love with her may make him understand that I can change too, but no way in hell is he letting me test that theory on his sister.
She would have to stay in New York, and she may be happy for a little while, but I know she would eventually resent me.
I resent myself for even thinking about it.
She would leave me, taking my entire family with her.
That’s the whole reason I had been avoiding her in the first place.
A week . I was able to stay away from her for a whole week.
No, she has to go to Paris, and I have to go to New York. And then I have to pray to God that the Atlantic Ocean will be enough to keep me away from her.
Tears fall down my face as I realize what I have to do. I have to get up, but how do I let her go? I look down at my entire reason for existence and hold on to her for dear life, refusing to release her until the last possible second.
Trying my best not to wake her, I roll her off me and quietly get out of bed. The sun is starting to rise as I gather up enough of my things to make it until I can get to a store for more. I jot down a note, the nail in the coffin, hopefully assuring she goes to Paris.
“I love you too, Princess,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead as I have countless times before.
The memory of the way her lips felt against mine already haunts me.
I grab my phone and finally take that picture of my Sleeping Beauty.
A memory frozen in time. A reminder of where my heart is, in case I ever forget why my chest feels so empty.