11. Great Debate
ELEVEN
GREAT DEBATE
JACKSON
I can’t sleep. The phone says three in the morning and there’s no use trying with so much on my mind between the mission details and Gigi sleeping in the next room.
“Fuck,” I grumble, knowing exactly what’s wrong. Prior to Gigi staying here, my evening wind down routine usually consisted of a dip in the hot tub with a beer in one hand, and a cigar in the other. The cigar habit I’d picked up thanks to the military and access to exquisite cigars from various locations I’m not at liberty to divulge.
She’s interrupted my life in more ways than I can count. But I start counting anyway.
One, she’s a beautiful woman to gaze upon twenty-four hours a day.
Two, she’s a walking contradiction, between fierce determination to get her story and a layer of vulnerability underneath. Both sides do everything for me.
Three—my hard cock yearning for her.
I’m driving myself crazy.
I kick off the covers. Quickly, I undress and wrap my plush bathrobe around me. As quiet as can be, I tread through the house, grabbing my drink and my smoke supplies along the way. The cool spring night air hits me like a cold shower and I stand there and take it for as long as I can. I needed that. As soon as I get a chill, though, I settle into the hot, bubbling water.
A few sips and puffs of smoke are all it takes to finally release the tension riding in my shoulders. With my arms spread wide on the ledge of the tub, I lean back, blow smoke rings, and look up at the stars through the slats of the pergola, clearing my head—until the sound of the sliding glass door opens behind me.
That has to be her.
I shouldn’t want her intrusion on my time, trying to relax and wind down. Trying to ignore all the thoughts about her that have been building inside of me like a storm of gigantic proportions. But I want her so fucking bad.
The corner of my mouth lifts.
Maybe I wouldn’t mind the intrusion if I could tempt her into this hot tub with me. I’ve had plenty of women over to the house before, never had a problem with getting them to dip in. But I have one rule. I don’t fuck in the hot tub. For Gigi, I could make an exception. And sex would be a great way for me to relax if we could keep it just about sex and nothing more. But I know she wouldn’t go for it; she’s already said that with her arguments against us.
She leans her arms on the ledge to my right, over my shoulder. “Can’t sleep? Oh!” She covers her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be naked.”
I make no effort to cover up. What’s the point? She’s seen all my glory now. I arch a brow. “Nice view?”
“Jackson!”
I chuckle and put down the beer and grab my junk. “Fine, look, my hand is concealing my deadliest weapon. Happy?”
She peeks through her fingers and realizes I’m telling the truth, then drops her hands. Looking everywhere else but at me in the tub, she observes, “Nice night.” She has on another of my sweatshirts I gave her to wear to bed.
The fourth reason she’s disrupted my life—she can wear everything I have, especially if she’s naked underneath, and leaves her seabreeze scent on every piece of it.
“Chilly though,” she shivers, her teeth almost chattering.
“Get in. This is a perfect night for hot tubbing.” I scoot over on the bench and pat the seat beside me.
“No suit.”
“Birthday suit is fine, like me.” I wink and chuckle, feeling my hair fall into my eyes. Then she surprises me by reaching over and gently threading her fingers through it, pushing it back into place. As quick as she does that, she retreats.
“I just heard you moving about and wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’ll leave you be.” Before she can move away, I grab her hand. Electricity passes between us, sharp currents sizzling that, if measured, could probably power up the entire grid covering Love Beach. The tension returns to my shoulders, wound tight again and in need of a release.
Inside of her.
I want her.
I shouldn’t, considering what this could do to me when undercover, compromising my ability to act fearlessly when faced with danger. But I’m powerless to stop it when I’m electrified by one touch.
“Stay. Just to talk and help me relax. Dip your feet in at least, or get in wearing my sweatshirt. I have more you can change into when we’re done. And you can steal them all. But just stay.” I’m not too proud to beg for what I want if it comes down to it.
“Fine. If it’ll help you to relax,” she says, but to my ears her tone comes across as a purr. She moves to the steps, takes the three of them one at a time, then pauses on the top watery landing. Standing there, she shocks me, removing the sweatshirt entirely.
Every ounce of oxygen leaves my body. My nuts gather tight, eyes bulging. There she is, standing before me in white cotton panties and a bra of the same. No lace, no thong, no satin. Nothing too skimpy. Just the simplicity of white cotton, and I’d expect nothing less from Gigi. White cotton on her is sexy as hell. The color significant, as if she’s pure, angelic… and she’s all fucking mine even if she doesn’t want to admit it.
My cock roars to life, twitching by its own power. He could part the sea between us as she lowers her body into the water, he’s so determined right now. Praise be to her trainer or running group or whatever she’s doing to ready herself for the Love Beach marathon. Her short frame is honed, curvy and soft where it counts, solid and plenty strong to withstand a man with stamina to go the distance.
I’m that man. I want to be her man. How can I be her man? I need answers from the universe.
I need her. And that’s how I know I’m screwed. I can never go back into the field and be that daring hero guy again, because every time I leave for a mission, I’ll leave a part of myself with her.
“Damn, G. You tempt me with a view like that and expect me to keep hands off? Cruel.” I set the cigar down in the ashtray. My fingers grip the ledge, ready to pounce if unleashed.
She laughs it off, sitting opposite me. “You’ve seen me in bikinis at the beach plenty of times over the years.”
“You were a girl back then. Not like this.”
“Like what?”
“I see the strong, confident woman you’ve become, walking around with purpose and passion and poise, and I’m fucking here for it to support you all I can. But while a part of me wants to fall at your feet and worship the ground you stand on, the other part of me wants to carry you to my ca ve and do things to you no other man has. Absolutely no part of me wants to watch you leave this hot tub until I’ve kissed you senseless.”
“Jackson, you take my breath away,” she croaks, her chest rising and falling. “But we’ve talked about this?—”
“No. You’ve stated your position, that you don’t want to be just another woman I leave behind. But I’ve had time to think about it and I’m ready to debate the subject.”
Her lips twitch, taking the bait. After School Debate Club used to be one of our hot spots for battling against each other. And now I can’t stop myself from pursuing this with her. Even if my commander suddenly appeared with an army to hold me back, I’d charge ahead.
“If memory serves, we finished with an even record of wins and losses between us. Care to see who can win tonight and break the tie?” I dare, with a gleam in my eyes.
“How drunk are you?” She giggles.
“Nah, darlin’. I’m clear headed, barely a few sips into this beer. Plenty sober to rise to the challenge.” I can’t help but glance down at my rock hard rod, bulging beyond the boundaries of my hand. He’s proving more than ready to win, and fuck it. I don’t bother covering up that fact anymore.
“ Darlin’. That’s new. Maybe if you’d have called me that in high school, I’d have given you a shot. The cigar, too. New.” She points to my beer. “Can I have a sip?”
“Go for it. Does the smoke bother you?” I watch her slice through the water, ending a few feet away. The graceful lines of her neck tease me as her throat works, downing half of the bottle.
“Nope. And as far as debating. Let’s go, hotshot. I’m ready.” She eases back into her seat across from me, arms on the ledge mirroring me, crossing her legs with confidence as if the beer has given her liquid courage.
“Perfect.” I smile ear to ear. “If I win, you come sit on my lap and let my lips do whatever I want to you.” I guzzle the rest of the beer.
“And if I win, you apologize for putting a spit wad into my flute during seventh grade band practice.” She arches a brow.
I snort and crack up so hard, beer comes out my nose. “Uh, yeah, okay. That was monumental kid behavior for me.” Her face shows she’s not amused. “Fine. Deal. May the best debater win.”
“So the debate is this. I don’t believe we should get intimately involved, because you’ll leave Love Beach as soon as your mission is done, and I don’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.” With a nod of her head, she gestures as if giving me the floor to speak.
I clear my throat to make way for my official debating voice. “The facts are simple, Baymont: You and I have chemistry. We want each other and we should go for it. Just have fun. Debate over.” I regard her jaw falling to her chest. “Oh, in case you didn’t realize, I’m pro-intimacy.” I end with a wink and take a cocky puff of my cigar. This is more fun than I’ve had with a woman—ever.
She huffs and crosses her arms. Too bad her nipples are underwater because I’d love to see them poking out of her cotton bralette.
“Bold, I’ll give you that, soldier. But just because you want something, doesn’t mean you should have it. Especially when there are consequences involved.”
“Like what?” I scowl and break protocol, demanding. Getting overheated, I lift out of the water and perch on the edge. A good strategic move for me, given how her eyes tour my muscles.
“M-my arguments against go like this. You were assigned to be my babysitter. You’re supposed to protect me. And we have a case to solve. But emotions can compromise judgement, so we shouldn’t get involved. You have your mission to finish. And I have important… journalism-ing to do,” she stutters at the end.
I raise a brow at ‘journalism-ing’. Is she flustered by our debate? I feel a win coming on.
“And let’s not forget how you drive me insane,” she finishes quickly.
I lace my fingers and twist them out in front of me to crack my knuckles. “Here we go. My rebuttal. You drive me crazy too, G, which is half the fun. And conflict of interest? Then we could eliminate the interest by getting it on in bed and over with as soon as possible. And as for emotions compromising judgment, what if sleeping together is the best damn decision we ever make in our entire lives?” I stand in the water and take a step closer. Her breath hitches. I take another step. Her chest heaves. “Where’s your counterarguments, G?”
“I-it’s weak to give in.”
“No. We’re not weak. We’re inevitable.” One final step and I’m in front of her, tucking a curl behind her ear, careful not to touch the wound she’s still healing from.
“But-but we have to catch these guys.” She trembles as I run a thumb beneath her lower lip.
“Told you before, there’s no we in this mission anymore. I can’t afford for you to get hurt.” I pull her chin up and lower myself, hovering over her lips.
“Distracting me is against the rules.”
“Not if you concede,” I remind her.
“Never,” she whispers, our breaths mingling. “Besides. My position still stands. You’ll be gone again soon, and I refuse to be another notch on your bedpost. And you have yet to argue against that. So, I think I win.”
I smirk and back up, taking my seat again, then my mood turns somber. “Actually, I only have a few months left on my current contract. When this mission wraps up in Love Beach, I’ll leave and finish out my time in another country until it ends. And while my command has sent me papers to renew, I haven’t signed yet because another great debate about it has been going on in my head. What if I come back here to Love Beach this summer—and stay?”
“What? I-I mean, is that what you want?” She leans forward like this news intrigues her, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. “What would you do? Could you really be happy here?”
“I could talk to Davis about joining the police force. Shouldn’t be a problem. And, yeah, I’ve always liked Love Beach with the sand and surf. I could be happy here.”
“Jackson, are you sure? It seems to me like you enjoy your life of heroics too much.”
I squirm a little, because she’s right, and I lean over, settling my weight on my elbows over my knees. “But the thing is, I’ve been lucky so far. I’m only human and bound to get hurt one of these missions, because I wouldn’t be able to take chances with my life anymore, knowing someone is here in Love Beach waiting for me.”
“Who?” Her eyes start to turn green.
“ You, G. I care about you, but to do my job properly, I can’t. But I also can’t quit you. So I’m compromised, see? You’ve done that to me, G.”
“Jackson… I don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost, but I also cannot be the one who forces you to leave behind a job you thrive in.”
“Welcome to the great debate in my head.” I sigh and take one more puff of the cigar. “Time for closing arguments, G. So help me out here. I need you to admit you want me or you don’t. Because that’s the only question in my head keeping me from making a decision either way. But let me end with this. We could be so fucking good together. You and me in Love Beach. I believe it. But I need to know if you do.”
She chews her cheek far too long, making me nervous. “And you’ll come back here and stay?”
“I promise with everything I am, darlin’.”
She lets out an exasperated breath, and launches herself into my lap, surprising me. I drop the cigar.
“Then yes. Screw it. You win, Jackson.”
Our lips crash together, tongues tasting and exploring like we can’t get enough of the best buffet ever. I match the crescendo of her moans like they’re wordless promises for a future we could pin hopes on.
Now that I know where she stands, I have some decisions to make. But first, I need to kiss her senseless, then carry her off to my bed and satisfy her all night long.