Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
MEYER
The car is stifling the whole drive back, but not from the late afternoon heat.
Normally, I would feel uncomfortable sitting here in damp clothes, but I can’t seem to care about that. I can’t seem to care about much of anything except this thrum of anticipation.
Jackson’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel in both hands. His jacket and tie are on the back seat, discarded. He looks good in just a button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
Logically, I know this is a terrible idea. I can’t seem to help myself from wanting it anyway. Maybe, with any luck, doing this will purge Jackson from my system entirely. If I flush all my attraction out in one evening, I can go back to simply surviving these next few months with him in town.
Jackson parks in his usual space in the parking lot, and I waste no time getting out. He follows close behind, and we make our way down the gravel path. Then I’m unlocking my front door, disarming the fancy alarm system Jackson insisted on having put in, and spinning to face him.
I frown when I see him standing on the edge of the porch, like he’s about to leave. I lean against the doorframe. “Are you not coming in?”
His brows furrow. “Coming in? I thought—” He shakes his head as he comes closer. “Never mind.”
I step into the entryway to let him by. “What did you think I meant by take me home ?”
Jackson runs a hand through his hair. It’s already a little dishevelled from my fingers back at the creek. He looks adorably nervous right now, which seems entirely out of character for him. Then again, this is new territory for us.
“I got in my head,” he replies. “I guess I figured you changed your mind, and I would have to do a lot more than bring you coffee to get back into your good graces.”
“Get back in my good graces?” I grin. “Who said you were ever in them?”
He shrugs as he takes another step toward me. “I don’t know.” He smiles. “I seem to be doing something right.”
I’m not sure what happened, but something in me snapped back at the creek. I’m tired of fighting this pull between us. Now, I fully plan to give in.
I take hold of his shirtfront and tug him toward me, and I let my lips crash into his like an inevitable head-on collision. There will be broken glass and debris in our wake, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when he hooks his fingers into my belt loops and pulls me flush against him.
I begin to walk backwards, tugging him with me. He closes the door with his foot, and then I’m pushing his back up against it.
His hands gravitate toward my hips, anchoring there. Then he pivots us, and my back hits the door. His knee nudges my thighs apart.
“Just once,” I say. “We’re only doing this once.”
I feel Jackson’s smirk curve against my jaw. “I have a hard time believing you’ll be able to keep your hands off me, Ellison. It’s already difficult enough for your eyes.”
In response, I reach out and pinch one of his nipples through his shirt. His answering nip of my earlobe sends a thrill down my spine. Jackson and I are evenly matched in this way—this push and pull. He gives and I take, and when I offer myself to him, his response is nothing but greed.
A glutton for punishment. A glutton for me .
“ One time ,” I try again.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Just this once.”
Just once to purge this growing need from my body. Just once to sate the curious part of me that wonders what it would be like to have Jackson. All of him.
He takes my hand and starts tugging me toward the hallway. Toward my bedroom. But that sends a bolt of uneasiness through me. Because that makes things too real, letting him into my space, and that’s not what this is. This is purely to scratch an itch.
“This way,” I say, drawing him to the living room instead.
I push him onto the worn sofa, and he goes willingly. For a second, I just admire him like this, sitting against the back of the couch. His hair is slightly mussed, his lips are swollen, and his erection is visibly straining against his slacks.
A small part of me wants to savour this, but the longer this draws on, the harder it will be to keep myself detached. Quick and easy—that’s what I need.
I unfasten the button on my shorts and slide them down my legs. Then I chuck them across the room before I slide onto Jackson’s lap, straddling him. His hands slide up my thighs to rest on the curve of my ass. He rocks me against him, both of us groaning at the friction it creates.
I undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing his firm chest. I let my gaze wander as he slides it off his shoulders, then tosses it aside.
“Are you ogling me, Ellison?”
My eyes snap up, and I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He simply leans back, giving me a better view. “Look all you like, baby,” he says. “I love having your eyes on me.”
Something twists inside my chest at the earnestness of his statement. Beneath the haze of lust, all I see is truth shining in his gaze, and it fractures a little piece of my soul. Too much—this is too much . He must sense the rising panic because he blinks, and that look he was giving me is gone.
“If I can only have you once,” he says, eyes darkening, “then I’m not wasting any more time.” He hooks a finger under my chin. “Come here.”
I obey, letting my lips crash against his. And then Jackson is pulling back and helping me out of my t-shirt. He tosses it to the floor in the same direction my shorts landed.
I reach behind my back to unhook my bra. The straps slip off my shoulders with ease, and Jackson eagerly helps extricate the material from my body. His gaze heats at the sight of my bare skin. I’ve never experienced a man’s eyes roving over me so reverently. Until Jackson, that is.
My fingers thread through his hair, tugging. I urge his mouth toward mine again and I’m rewarded with a kiss that has my thighs tightening around his hips. Jackson groans against my mouth, and then he begins to trail kisses down my neck. He blazes a path down my collarbone, the swell of one breast, and then finally to my nipple, which has gone rock hard under his attention.
His tongue swirls the peak. My head tips back as the sensation washes over me.
At the same time, one of his hands leaves my hip, and then I feel the brush of his fingers against my inner thigh. I ache in anticipation. He is so close to where I want him to be. But he doesn’t go any farther.
I press my hips closer, asking for his touch. Before now, I’ve been too stubborn to admit it, but this is something I’ve been wanting for a while. Now that the possibility is so near, that fact is undeniable.
Jackson releases my nipple and grins. “Something you want to ask me, gorgeous?”
I shake my head.
He toys with the band of my underwear. “If I slide these to the side, what am I going to find?” he taunts. “Are you wet for me, Ellison?”
“No,” I reply. My breath hitches when I feel the ghost of a touch on my clit, over my underwear.
Jackson sits back. “The truth. Give me one truth, and I’ll think about playing with this pretty pussy of yours. ”
He removes his hand entirely, and I let out a whine of disappointment. “Come on .”
“Answer me honestly, then you can have what you want.”
Half of me wants to continue being contrary, but the other, stronger half is tired of games. I’ve already made it this far—I want my reward.
“Fine. Yes .”
Amusement shines in his eyes. “Yes what?”
My teeth grind together. “Yes, Jackson. I’m wet for you. Happy?”
He grins. “Immensely.”
I want to argue, but he kisses me before I can, and then his hand is back between my thighs. He pushes my underwear to the side and then eases two fingers inside me. My lips part on a silent gasp, feeling the stretch.
I grip his shoulders as I rock against his hand, chasing that pleasure. It feels good having someone else’s hand on me, inside me. When I grind against his palm, I have to bite my lip to stop from crying out.
He pinches one of my nipples, and I almost lose control right then and there. I can feel my orgasm building, like the rise of a tidal wave.
“Jackson,” I pant, “I’m going to?—”
He withdraws from my breast, and he pulls his fingers out, leaving me feeling empty. He simply grins in response to my glare. I want to wipe that stupid proud look off his face.
“Patience, Ellison.”
I frown. “You know I have very little.”
This causes him to chuckle. “With this, you’re just going to have to trust me. I promise to make it worth your while. ”
“What overwhelming confidence coming from someone with very little proof.”
“Pull my cock out, baby. I’ll show you proof.”
Yes, please . I almost salivate at the thought. Finally, we’re getting somewhere.
“Tell me you have a condom,” I say. “Because we’ll both be very disappointed if you don’t.”
I usually don’t take my chances and have some on standby. But I ran out a little while ago, and I wasn’t exactly expecting to fuck my business partner on my couch today. My bad.
Jackson nods. “In my wallet.”
I rise up on my knees, giving him space to grab his wallet from his back pocket. Once he has the condom in hand, his wallet gets tossed aside.
I reach out, pulling on his zipper, and then he helps me tug his pants and boxers down, letting his cock free. Still annoyed about him not allowing me to finish, I snatch the condom from him and tear the packaging open. Then I roll it over his cock and grip his shaft.
I pump my hand a couple times, relishing his groan. He grips the back of my neck, trying to pull my mouth back to his, but I lean back as I notch the tip of his cock at my entrance.
“Be a good boy and sit still for me.”
His gaze is full of fire, hearing my words. He leans back again, taking in the sight of me. “All yours, baby.”
I sink onto his length slowly. Once I’m fully seated, my eyes close and my head tips back as I take in how deliciously full I feel. And then I start to rock .
“That’s it, Meyer,” he coaxes. “Use me. I want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock.”
That’s all the permission I need. I draw myself up until his cock is almost all the way out and then I drop down, slamming home. Jackson places his hands on my hips, helping me move.
“ Oh, God .”
“You’re doing so good, baby. You’re taking me so well.”
The praise washes over me, and I bear down on him, hitting a spot inside that makes me cry out.
Jackson reaches between us, pressing a thumb to my clit, and I fall blissfully over the edge. Jackson follows shortly after, his release filling the condom as I clench around him.
My breathing comes in the form of ragged pants, and my legs feel like Jell-O.
His arms slip around my waist as I slump against his chest. We stay like that for a few moments, both trying to catch our breath. Then my mind starts whirring, thinking of all the implications of what just transpired.
I just slept with Jackson fucking Vaughan .
The regret tries to settle in, but I lock it away. Later . I can hate myself for being so goddamn weak later. Right now, I have to figure out how to politely tell my business partner he can pull out and go back to his room at the inn.
“So…” I draw back, putting some space between us. Our upper halves anyway. Our lower halves are still very much connected. “This was fun.”
Jackson raises a brow. “Just fun?”
I slide off his lap, situating my underwear, and then I reach for my shirt, tugging it over my head. Jackson tucks himself back into his pants before he stands, and then we both pause, just staring at each other.
Fuck, this is awkward. Fuck, fuck, fuck .
This is, undoubtedly, why they tell you not to mix business with pleasure. If you do, you’ll be forced into a staring contest with your business partner while you’re half naked, both of you trying to will the other into breaking.
After another moment, I can’t take it anymore. My eyes drop to the rug beneath my feet, watching my toes curl into the plush material as I force my mouth to form words.
“I have a…thing that I have to get ready for,” I say. “So you should probably go.”
I wince. I didn’t intend to sound so dismissive, but panic is quickly creeping up my limbs. The only way out is to avoid thinking about what we just did, but the only way I can do that is if he gets out of my space. As it is, I’m sure I won’t be able to fully lock the memories away. Not when his presence will still linger in the room, even after he’s gone.
Fuck .
“Right.” Jackson nods, shrugging on his shirt and buttoning it part of the way. The top half gapes open, leaving some of his chest exposed. “Good luck with your thing .”
The expression on his face is one I can’t quite puzzle out. He doesn’t look upset, exactly. But he doesn’t look happy either. Might as well officially add him to the long list of transgressions I’ve committed in my life.
We walk to the front door in stilted silence. And then I’m watching him leave, a nauseating whirl of emotions tearing through my insides .
He looks over his shoulder at me. “See you tomorrow, Ellison.”
“This never happened!” I call after him. I don’t know what possessed me to say it.
He turns now, walking backwards. “What never happened?”
And then he smirks.
Fuck .