Chapter 6 #2
He hitches me higher and the new angle puts him deeper on the next stroke. The pressure builds with every thrust, stretching me around him while his control starts to go. His forehead drops to mine, breath breaking against my mouth.
“Come for me.”
The bond pulses hard between us and I do.
The orgasm tears through me, my whole body locking around him as I bury my face against his shoulder. Jackson goes over right behind me. His knot swells fully and locks us together, his hips jerking through the last few strokes before he goes still with a rough sound against my neck.
For a while, neither of us says anything.
We stay pressed to the tile while the water goes cold around us. His knot pulses inside me, every throb hitting an oversensitive nerve, and his heart is going hard enough against mine that I can feel it without the bond.
Jackson shifts his grip and takes more of my weight. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet.
“You said something downstairs.”
“I said a lot of things.”
“About wanting us but not knowing where to put it.”
I go still.
His hand moves slowly over my back. “I need you to know something.”
“Okay.”
“I didn’t claim you because Tyler needs paperwork.”
“I know.”
“No.” He lifts his head and looks at me. “You don’t.”
There’s no anger in it. That’s almost worse.
“Jackson—”
“Eli made sense to me.” He looks frustrated already, like the words are objects somebody handed him without instructions. “He still does. Three years ago, we knew what it was before we started. We made rules. We knew where everything went.”
“And I don’t make sense.”
“You didn’t.” His mouth twists. “You walked in and started yelling at us before you knew everybody’s names.”
“You deserved it.”
“We did.” His thumb moves against my side. “Then you kept being there. In the boat. At the house. In my head. I didn’t want to want you because I didn’t know what to do with it, and then I couldn’t stop.”
My chest tightens. “That’s very romantic.”
“I’m not finished.”
“Sorry.”
He gives me a look. “You’re not the bond. You’re not biology, and you’re not another name Tyler needs for a form. I wanted you before I bit you. I want you when the bond is quiet. I want you when you’re pissing me off.” His jaw works once. “You’re you, and I want you. That’s the best I can say it.”
For a man who rations words like they’re coming out of his own bank account, it’s almost too much at once.
I kiss him because I don’t trust my voice. Jackson lets me, one hand sliding into my wet hair, and when I pull back, he doesn’t look away.
“That’s what I needed,” I admit.
“I know.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
His mouth twitches. “Wasn’t going to.”
We stay quiet for another minute, his hand moving lazily over my back while the last of the bond-high settles between us.
“So what’s actually wrong?” he asks.
“What?”
“At dinner. You weren’t overwhelmed because six of us haven’t bitten you yet.”
“You seem very sure.”
“I can feel you, remember?”
“Still terrifying.”
“Reese.”
I let my head fall back against the tile. “The reporter today. The way she asked her questions. It felt like she already had the answers.”
“Answers about what?”
“Me. Us. The pack.” I hesitate, because this is the part I haven’t told most of them. “And Gray’s father threatened to take it to the media. Two weeks, he said. That clock started yesterday. Then a reporter turns up on our dock asking me about bonds.”
Jackson’s face goes hard. “Harrison Lockwood is a piece of shit.”
“He’s a piece of shit with connections and money and a grudge against his own son.”
“Then we handle it.”
“You make that sound easy.”
“I didn’t say easy.” His hand tightens on my hip. “I said we. That’s what pack means, Reese. You don’t get to carry this by yourself.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe eight men can stand between me and whatever’s coming without destroying themselves in the process, but I’ve been the reason a team came apart before. I know exactly what it looks like from the inside.
“You’re thinking about Westlake.”
My eyes snap to his.
“You get that look every time you decide history’s about to repeat itself.”
“Get out of my head.”
“Can’t. It goes both ways.” He kisses my throat. “You wanted me knowing what Meredith did. Let me want you knowing what they did.”
The water is cold and I don’t care. I’m warm where it counts, his body against mine, his knot still holding us together, his words going into places I’ve been hollow since long before Sable Ridge.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
“I’ll try to stop spiraling. No promises.”
Jackson smiles, which he does about twice a season. “I’ll take it. We’re going to be here a while yet, so you may as well get comfortable.”
“You planned that.”
“I planned exactly none of this.” He reaches past me and shuts off the water, and the sudden quiet is enormous. “Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Longer if you keep doing that thing with your hands.”
I blink at him. “Was that a joke?”
“It happens.”
“Does Eli know you’re secretly funny?”
“Eli knows everything.” He gathers me against his chest, taking my weight off the wall. “Don’t spread it around. I have a reputation.”
I laugh into his shoulder, caught off guard by this version of Jackson, the one who teases and smiles and lets himself be looked at. It’s the first time all week I’ve been able to put something down.