Chapter 24
MAYA
February's coming, and I can feel it in the air. That shift from deep winter to the promise of something warmer. Not that Hartford's getting warm anytime soon, but there's a change happening, in the weather and in me.
Dr. Mills says I'm doing well, that the nightmares being rare now is a good sign, and that my ability to talk about the trauma without dissociating shows real progress. She mentioned returning to work at our last session, not pushing, just planting the seed.
"You've come so far," she said. "And I think you're ready to start considering what comes next."
Next. The word feels heavy and light at the same time.
I'm thinking about nursing again. Not obsessively, not with the panic that used to accompany the thought, just considering it. A different hospital, maybe pediatrics again, maybe not. But the idea of helping people, of using my skills… it doesn't terrify me anymore.
That's progress. Real progress.
Tonight I can't sleep, I'm too wired, too awake. Emma and Chase went to bed hours ago, and the house is quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood and the hum of the heat kicking on.
I slip outside onto the balcony off the living room, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. The cold hits immediately, biting at my exposed skin, but I don't care. The sky's clear, stars scattered across the darkness like diamonds.
I lean against the railing and breathe. In. Out. Watching my breath fog in the air.
"Can't sleep either?"
Jackson's voice makes me turn. He's standing in the doorway, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, hair messy like he's been tossing in bed.
"No. Too much thinking."
"About what?" He steps onto the balcony, closing the door behind him.
"Everything. Therapy. Work. The future." I pause. "Us."
He moves closer, standing beside me at the railing, and I can feel the warmth radiating off him despite the cold. "What about us?"
“We need to tell Emma."
"I know." His hand finds mine in the darkness.
We stand here in silence, the cold forgotten, just holding hands and looking at the stars. The city spreads below us, quiet at this hour, and for a moment it feels like we're the only two people in the world.
“You’re shining,” he says quietly.
I glance at him. “What?”
“The starlight on your skin. You’re shining, Stardust.”
I look down at my arms. The light catches there, faint but unmistakable, like I’ve been touched by something ethereal.
“That’s the corniest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I tell him, but I’m smiling.
“Doesn’t make it less true.“
He turns me to face him, his hands coming up to cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. The cold has turned his fingers icy, but I don't care.
"Maya—"
"Don't. Not yet. Whatever you're about to say, just don't."
Because I know what's coming, I can feel it in the way he's looking at me. And if he says it, I'll have to say it, and once we say it, there's no taking it back.
Instead, he kisses me.
It's soft at first, gentle, then it deepens and turns into something desperate. His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me against him.
The blanket falls from my shoulders. I'm just in sleep shorts and a tank top, and the cold makes my nipples harden immediately, visible through the thin fabric.
Jackson notices. His hand comes up to cup my breast through my shirt, thumb brushing over the peaked nipple.
"You're freezing," he says against my mouth.
"Don't care."
"We should go inside."
"Not yet."
His mouth drops to my neck, then lower. He pulls down the strap of my tank top, exposing my breast to the cold night air, and then his mouth is on me, tongue warm against frozen skin, sucking my nipple until I moan.
"Shh." His hand comes up to cover my mouth. "Emma and Chase are right inside."
The reminder of the risk makes everything hotter. We're on the balcony, anyone could see, Emma could wake up and come downstairs, and Chase could look out the window.
And I don't care.
Jackson's other hand slides into my sleep shorts, finding me already wet and ready. His fingers move expertly, but slowly this time, teasing rather than giving me what I need.
"Jackson—" His name comes out muffled against his palm.
"Patience," he whispers. "We have time."
He circles my clit with maddening lightness, never quite giving me the pressure I need. His mouth works my breast, alternating between gentle licks and harder suction that makes my knees weak.
I push into his hand, seeking more friction, but he just chuckles against my skin.
"Desperate for it, aren't you?" His fingers slide lower, teasing my entrance but not entering. "Tell me what you want."
I pull his hand from my mouth. "You. I want you."
"You have me." He slips a finger inside, finally, curling it just right, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. "But I'm taking my time with you tonight."
He works me slowly, building the pleasure in waves, adding a second finger and finding that sweet spot. His thumb brushes my clit with each stroke, but never stays there long enough, keeping me on edge.
"Please," I breathe.
"Please, what?"
"More. I need more."
"Not yet." He turns me around and bends me over the railing. The view of Hartford stretches out before us. "I want you to be desperate for me first."
His body presses against my back, and I can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. His hand returns between my legs, fingers pumping slowly while his other hand grips my hip.
"Can you be quiet?" he asks against my ear.
"Yes."
"Good. I'm going to make you come right here first—under the stars, where anyone could see. Then… I'm going to fuck you against this railing."
His fingers work faster now, thumb finally pressing against my clit with the pressure I've been craving. The combination is overwhelming: the cold air, the risk, his touch, the promise of what's coming.
"That's it," he whispers. "Feel how wet you are? How ready? You're dripping down my hand, Stardust."
The orgasm builds slowly, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in my core. His fingers are relentless now, pumping and curling and hitting that perfect spot while his thumb circles my clit.
"Come for me," he says. "Show me how beautiful you are."
I shatter, biting down on my own hand to muffle the sounds as pleasure crashes through me. He works me through it, fingers gentling as the aftershocks fade.
Then I hear him shoving his sweatpants down, and I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder.
"Did you plan this?"
He's smiling, that cocky smile that makes my stomach flip. "Maybe."
"Jackson—"
"I've been wanting to fuck you on this balcony since you moved in." He pushes my shorts to the side, positioning himself at my entrance. "Wanted to claim you out here under the stars where the whole world could see you're mine."
The words send heat flooding through me. "You're insane."
"For you? Absolutely." He teases my entrance with the head of his cock. "Tell me you want this."
"I want this."
"Tell me you're happy you chose me. That you're glad it was me you came to."
"I'm so happy I chose you," I breathe, meaning every word. "It would never have been anyone else. Only you, Jackson. Only ever you."
He pushes inside in one slow, torturous thrust, and we both have to bite back groans. The angle is different, like this, deeper, and the cold air contrasts sharply with the heat between us.
"Fuck, Maya," he breathes against my neck. "You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect."
He starts to move, one hand gripping my hip while the other reaches around to work my clit. Every thrust sends pleasure spiraling through me, the risk of being caught adding an edge to everything.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "Taking my cock on this balcony like you were made for it. Anyone could look over at the house and see how well you take me."
The words make me clench around him, and he groans.
"You like that? Like the idea of someone seeing?" He thrusts harder. "Seeing you bent over this railing, seeing my cock disappearing inside you?"
"Yes," I gasp.
"So fucking perfect." His fingers press harder against my clit. "You're mine, Maya. Mine to fuck wherever I want. Mine to make come whenever I want."
The possessiveness in his voice, combined with his movements, pushes me close to the edge again. I'm gripping the railing, trying to stay quiet, trying to stay upright as he fucks me under the open sky.
"I can feel you getting close," he says. "Feel your pussy clenching around me. Come for me again, Stardust. Come all over my cock."
His fingers work my clit in tight circles, and I shatter again, biting down on my own hand to muffle the sounds. He follows seconds later, his hips stuttering as he comes with my name on his lips.
We stay frozen like that for a moment, both panting, both shaking from more than just the cold.
"Inside," he says finally, carefully pulling out. "Now. Before we freeze to death."
We stumble back through the door and down the stairs to his room, adjusting our clothes as we go. The second the door closes behind us, he's kissing me again, hands everywhere.
We strip off the rest of our clothes quickly, desperately, and then we're on his bed, hands and mouths exploring like we haven't just been together minutes ago. The warmth of the room after the freezing balcony makes every touch more intense.
Jackson moves over me, settling between my thighs, and this time when he enters me, it's slower. Face to face, eyes locked, nothing between us but skin and want and everything we're not saying.
"God, Maya," he breathes, moving inside me with long, deep strokes. "You're everything. Everything."
I pull him down for a kiss, wrapping my legs around his waist, taking him deeper. This is different from the balcony, less frantic, more intimate. This is making love even if neither of us will say it.
His hand finds mine, fingers lacing together as he moves. His other hand slides under my knee, changing the angle, and I gasp.
"There?" he asks.
"Yes. Right there."
He keeps that rhythm, that angle, building me up slowly this time. No rush, just us in the darkness, the world forgotten beyond these walls.
"I need you to come for me," he says, his voice rough. "I need to feel it again."
His thumb finds my clit, and that's all it takes. The orgasm rolls through me in waves, softer than before but somehow more intense, and I feel him follow me over, his whole body shuddering as he comes.
He collapses onto the bed beside me, pressing close, his chest warm against my back. We lie here, tangled in each other, catching our breath.
"That was—" I start.
"Yeah."
I start to sit up, thinking I should head back to my room. Force of habit, I guess.
"Stay," Jackson says.
"Jackson—"
"Please. Just stay." His hand finds mine. "I'm tired of waking up alone when all I want is you here."
"Emma—"
"Will be asleep until 6:30 a.m. You can sneak back upstairs before then." He pulls me back down beside him. "Just stay. Please."
I settle against his chest, his arms wrapping around me. The silver pendant he always wears presses against my cheek.
"Okay," I whisper. "I'll stay."
"Good."
His heartbeat steadies under my ear, and his breathing evens out.
"Maya?" he says quietly.
"Yeah?"
"I—" He stops. "Thank you. For staying."
That wasn’t what he was going to say. I heard it in his voice, heard the words he swallowed back.
"You're welcome."
I should feel guilty, should feel wrong for lying to Emma, for sneaking around in her house.
Instead, I just feel safe. Complete.
I feel as though I’m finally home.