Chapter Fourteen #2
“I didn’t mean that about you.” Jackson put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.
“I was talking in general about being undercover. About the need to make the truth a matter of circumstance. Not truly being able to get close to anyone. How hard that must have been. How much strength that must’ve taken, the guts you needed to persevere. ”
He wrapped an arm around her. Turning into him, she pressed her forehead to his chest. Once again, the utter peace, the quiet security of his presence, washed over her the way it had when he was extracting her from Aguilar’s house.
Part of her wanted to soak it in until the grime of the past six years disappeared from her skin, her mind, her heart.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk,” he said. “After everything Kehoe put you through, you didn’t deserve it.”
“You were playing it safe. I don’t blame you.” Not anymore.
“Still.”
“I owe you,” she said. “For coming to my rescue.”
“You don’t. It’s okay.” He caressed her cheek, drawing her gaze to his.
“This is all Kehoe’s fault. He never should have recruited you and trapped you in that position.
If I had known, I would’ve forced him to pull you.
Even if I had to report him to the FBI to do it.
” Jackson took a breath. “I guess you’re right, and that’s the reason he didn’t tell me. ”
“Earlier tonight, if it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, would you trust me to do it? Be honest.”
“I trust you. With my life.” Caressing her face, he held her gaze. “And I’m always honest.”
“When you were at the tent while I was in the woods, I heard you talk about us having a truce. Does that make us allies now? Friends?”
“Yeah.” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, and she shivered with desire. “Of course.”
“Is that all you want us to be?” She slid her hands up his chest. “Just friends?”
Waiting for his answer scared her spitless. She’d never stopped wanting Jackson. Never stopped loving him.
Then he grinned, and it had a boyish, earnest quality to it she found so sexy. Aguilar had meant it as an insult when he called Jackson a Boy Scout. But it was the best way to describe him.
Honorable. Resourceful. Good.
“I want so much more,” he said. “When it comes to you, I want everything. Always have. Still do.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
Something inside her sighed with release, her tired body stirring to life. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this since the last kiss they’d shared in the shower.
He tasted like a mix of coffee and mint, and the smell of him was still so delicious.
It hadn’t changed. Not one nuance to it.
He didn’t wear cologne or aftershave. His scent was pure male and all his.
And she recalled lying in his bed, clutching his pillow to her body, face shoved into the sheets, taking in the smell of him before she had to sneak out the window.
Responding to the warmth of his body and the scent of his skin, she opened herself to him. Jackson deepened the kiss, upping the ferocity, stoking all the longing that bubbled inside her. She could always count on him for that. It was as if they were always starving for each other.
Her body responded instantly, heating at his touch. She leaned into him in search of more. More friction. More pressure. But what she really wanted was him.
“Jackson,” she breathed.
“Do you know what hearing my name on your lips still does to me?”
“No. Show me.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
She bit his bottom lip in answer. “I’m sure I want you.”
Those blue eyes flashed, all heat and promise. Warmth and concern. “Say it again,” he rasped.
Her Jackson was back.
“I want you.”
“Never stopped wanting you.”
Picking her up, he carried her to bed and laid her down. His body was hard and muscular over hers.
Her heart thundered in anticipation. “I missed you.” It was a whisper, barely audible, each word weighed down by heartache and history and unfulfilled hunger.
He kissed her and groaned, the sound tearing through him, tearing through her. His hand slid up to curve around the base of her head where it met her neck; he held tight, took her mouth and kissed her deep and hard and long.
It hurt. The pain of that desire was almost unbearable, but also, utterly beautiful.
She melted against him like hot wax, meeting the heat and intensity of his kiss.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her fingers through his hair and sighed at the delicious sensations he made blossom inside her.
The past forty-eight hours had been a stark reminder of how quickly everything could unravel and end.
And here she was with Jackson, and he was making her feel.
At her lowest points, when she was alone and abandoned and afraid, she’d learned to do things to remind herself that she was still alive, still breathing and still had something to fight for. But no one and nothing made her feel more alive and aware than Jackson.
Peeling off her clothes, he took possession of her mouth, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough, and it was the same for her. That thread of desperation coiled inside her, threatening to snap.
Maybe it was like this because they knew this thing between them had an expiration date. Only the date kept moving, changing.
Her heart ached, on the verge of shattering for this beautiful man who still had such a hold on her. No matter how much time they had together, she was going to make the most of every single second with him.