25. Jackson
25
JACKSON
M ichelle actually eats two-thirds of the cake Ginger offered her. Which is a solid compliment from my ex-wife.
I shake my head at her when she blinks at me meaningfully. “Don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”
“Do you?” She knows me too well because I am absolutely obsessed with Ginger. I can’t deny liking the hints of jealousy I saw today. Ginger plays it so cool most of the time.
And objectively, Michelle is a bombshell. I’m not sure how I got her to marry me when we were eighteen, but eleven years of the two of us trying to conceive brought a lot of struggles into our relationship. We both blamed ourselves and said awful things to hurt each other on many occasions.
Having Emily reminded us just how much we loved each other, but the pressure of having a young child and a young business gave us little time together. We became friends, and we couldn’t find our way back from that.
I wouldn’t change that. She’ll always be my family.
The energy thrumming through me like a live wire isn’t because of her, though. Ginger’s wild blue eyes when they flashed at me had made me want to scoop her up and have her right then and there.
I swipe at the remnants of frosting and marvel again at the skill my efficiency elf has in the kitchen. In everything she does, really.
I stop myself before the barrage of memories of what it’s like to be the center of her attention.
“Hmm.” Michelle stands. “I’ll go grab Em’s new volleyball schedule from the van.”
“Thanks, Mick.”
She rolls her eyes and marches out of the house. I stare up after Ginger, but go to my office to wait on Michelle. After a short chat, she heads off to her job at the accounting firm.
I give it a beat before I’m up the stairs to check on Ginger, but she’s not there. Of course she snuck off to the sites. I can only imagine what’s going through her head about my ex. I should have introduced them. It’s only one of many stupid decisions I’ve made.
Heading to the sites, I don’t ask around. Instead, I wander until I find Ginger alone in the house that’s just been completed and signed off on by the inspector.
She’s in the kitchen with my brother, Sawyer, leaning close and flirting with him in the aggressive way she used to flirt with me a few months ago.
The stab of jealousy hits me, although I’m not oblivious. I know she’s been with him and Ashley. But Ginger’s kept it exclusively to the three of us. I may prefer to have her all on my own, but I’m too happy to have her at all.
She sucks a bit of frosting off her finger, and I feel the zing down to my cock, even though the action isn’t aimed at me.
The lustful look on my brother’s features reflects my own feelings. Yes, she’s mesmerizing. Tempting.
I retreat, even though I’m sure Sawyer saw me. Ginger didn’t, so I return to our office to wait for her. She won’t be gone for long.
Sitting back in my chair, I press the heels of my palms against my eyes and imagine the various ways I can approach her. Corner her in the kitchen. Her office? One of the hidden spots upstairs?
I try to change locations, even in the small space this house provides. It’s best not to get too comfortable or familiar when sneaking around with an employee. I shouldn’t be so tempted to have her while at work. Yet, I don’t plan on giving her up anytime soon.
When I finally hear her come into the house, she breezes by my office door without even glancing in at me. I don’t give her too much of a lead, however, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Catching her at the end of the hall, I sweep her into the room at the back instead of her office and trap her between me and the wall beside the door.
She lets out a small squeal, but I cover her mouth to muffle it.
Ginger’s eyes are hard and hot with indignant anger.
I drop my hand with a smile but don’t explain myself. I don’t need to.
“What?” Her voice is low, but annoyance seethes through it.
“I enjoyed seeing you jealous.” Especially since I feel that way often about her.
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t appreciate you talking about me with other people.”
She doesn’t say it, but I can hear it. With that woman.
Taking a hard, deep breath, my chest puffs out against hers. As much as I want to soak in this, I need to cut those thoughts off. “That was Michelle. Emily’s mother.”
It takes a beat, but her shoulders droop, and she closes her eyes. “Your ex-wife.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t appreciate her comment about me having a crush .”
“You mean, you don’t have a crush on me?” My fingertips find the exposed skin at the base of her throat.
Her jaw clenches, and I swear she’s chewing on her words. “I am not some girl , pining over my boss.”
“No. You’re not.” I keep my words soft. “I’ve never seen you that way.”
“It doesn’t feel that way to me.”
Fuck. What could I say? Michelle read me just right. She knows more is going on than I’m willing to admit to her. “You didn’t witness the rest of the conversation. She and I were married for twenty-one years, Ginger. She figured me out in under a minute.”
“And I don’t seem to have you at all figured out.”
But she does. So much more than she realizes. “That’s not true.”
Something flickers through her gaze, and she softens just enough that I regain a kernel of my confidence.
I lace my hand through her hair and cup the back of her head, tipping her mouth up toward mine. “I want you. Only you.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond because she can’t say the same. It’s not the truth. Even if she wants me, I’m not the only one. Diving for her mouth, I taste her gasp and enjoy how her body swings into mine.
Yes. Her response drives me forward. I need to have her right now.
Ginger matches my fervor, raking her nails down my back, grabbing my ass, and grinding us together. It seems like she wants this as much as I do, so I drag her skirt up to gain more access to her.
Unzipping my slacks, she doesn’t bother with the belt or button. We’ve gotten a lot of practice in perfecting the art of the quickie. My cock is in her hand in seconds, hard, throbbing, ready.
I lift her knee in my hand, spreading her thighs. And fucking God, she reaches down to yank her panties to the side and rub my head through her folds. A small tilt of her hips has me sliding inside of her an inch.
I groan against my clenched teeth, thrusting forward as her hand retreats. Two pumps sink me home.
Ginger clutches my shoulders as I pound her tight pussy, her mouth open in a soft O. I keep a tight grip on her hair, staring into her. Those blue eyes tap into the intensity driving me.
“Ginger.” I get distracted by her mouth as her lip is pinched between her teeth. “ Sweetheart .”
Her hands twist in my shirt, hips moving to meet mine. I feel her clench around my shaft. She never can stay still when we’re fucking. It drives me to fill her up. To claim her.
Our gazes stay locked for long moments, pleasure building fast, but not fast enough. Releasing her hair, I reach between us to press my thumb over her clit.
She cries out, and I swallow the cry, kissing her hard and rubbing her vigorously. Intently. I want to make her come.
When her legs start to shake, I press her harder into the wall, thrusting deeper. Instincts make my hips rut like a wild animal. Every move is primal. I don’t want her to question how much I need her again.
I crave her time more than anything. I want to selfishly soak it all up.
Ginger mewls into my mouth. But I can’t stop. She’s so close, squeezing me with her core, begging me to come with her.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let go. Give me what I want. You know you want it, too.”
Her head falls back, face contorting in agony as she starts to pulse around me. Her orgasm is silent other than her rasping breaths.
The way her pussy strangles my cock races me toward my orgasm.
A creaking noise draws my own orgasm back, and then another creak of the stairs has me pulling out of her without release and lowering her leg. I drop her skirt around her hips, and I barely stuff myself away before someone crests the second floor at the end of the hall.
Fuck, we’ve been caught.