Now
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Jackson
Ifucked up. Shit. I forgot about the fourth anniversary of the day we officially got together. The day she became my girlfriend and we had our first kiss.
And I only realized it because the plate that waits in the microwave, the one she always leaves for me, isn’t a regular dinner. She clearly spent a lot of time preparing it, and I wasn’t there to enjoy it with her.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.
I shouldn’t have let the guys pressure me into going into town with them.
I didn’t want to because I’ve barely been home these past few weeks.
But there have been discussions about me joining the F3 team as long as I prove I can play well with others.
So, when some of my teammates offered to go out tonight, I had to agree.
Releasing a long sigh, I close the microwave door and head to the bedroom. The lights are off, and Evie is wrapped in the duvet, her breathing steady.
I shed my outside clothes and gently make my way under the covers with her. “Princess?” I call out softly. No answer. I lay a kiss on her shoulder and insist, “Evie, come on.”
When she still doesn’t move or respond, I say, “I know you’re not sleeping. This isn’t how you breathe when you’re sleeping.”
That gets her to leave all pretense behind and turn around to offer me a displeased frown. “Evie, I’m sorry,” I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I can’t believe you forgot.”
“I can’t either. I promise I’ll make up for it, princess.”
“And how will you do it this time?” The resentful edge in her tone is more than deserved, but it still hurts.
“How about we take a trip somewhere?”
She weighs my offer for several seconds and then asks, “Where?”
“How about Las Vegas? Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to go?”
“I did,” she concedes.
“Then come with me next month.”
She squints at me. “To the motorsport convention your team is sending you to?”
“I only have to be there for a couple of days. But we could stay a whole week. We can see a couple of shows, gamble the little money we have, spend the rest on lap dances in strip clubs …”
She pushes against my shoulder with a shocked giggle. “Jackson Reyes, what would your mom say?!”
“We can even take a day trip to see the Grand Canyon,” I continue, knowing this will win her over.
Her scowl slowly turns into a pout before she says, “I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“I know.”
“I can’t believe you’re trying to buy my forgiveness,” she says after a few beats.
“Is it working?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
I settle myself on top of her, with my hips in the cradle of her thighs. When she doesn’t fight it, I lean in to press my lips on the side of her throat. “Do you forgive me for forgetting, princess?” I rasp.
“I will maybe forgive you when we’re in Las Vegas. Maybe.”
I chuckle. “Anything I can do to speed up the process?”
“I’m not sure. What do you have in mind?”
I tug at the strap of her nightgown and kiss the curve of her shoulder. “Well, I haven’t had my dinner yet, so I’m starved for a taste.”
“That’s a good start,” she approves. “Then what?”
“Then I was thinking I could fuck you until you forget why you’re mad at me.”
“It might take a while.”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you the whole night if that’s what it takes.”
“The whole night?” she skeptically asks.
“I’m an athlete, Evie. I can last the whole night.”
“Well, I scoop ice cream for a living, so I definitely can’t. But let’s test my limits, shall we?”
Seeing her smile like this makes something twinge in my heart. The fact that I messed up so badly tonight, yet she’s already forgiven me, is so much more than I deserve.
“Evie, I—I really am sorry for tonight. I promise I won’t ever miss an anniversary ever again.”
She nods, but something in the way she looks at me tells me she doesn’t believe I mean it. Or that I won’t mess up again, eventually.
And for once, I’ll do my best to prove her wrong.
She’s already too good for me as it is. I need to step up my game.
Our kiss last time started slow and tender. A rediscovery of one another, of what it feels like to be alive. It got out of hand gradually, until I was knuckle-deep inside her, extracting those sweet, ecstatic moans.
This, however, is carnal, raw, and desperate from the moment my lips collide with hers.
There’s nothing measured to it, not in the way my tongue breaches her lips, or the way her fingers cling to my scalp to pull me closer.
For the first time since I decided to keep my hair this short, I regret not having more length to it.
I know she’d tug and pull at the thick, dense curls otherwise.
My own hands hold her right there, one still on her jaw, one on her ass, cradling her into me.
It feels like an explosion, a sudden burst of lust, and love, and need that can’t be contained. But it’s not like we’re even trying to. No, we’ve both given up on that. What’s the point of trying to stop the inevitable? Nothing but a waste of energy.
She tastes minty, and the smell of whatever cream she applied for the night is still strong. It’s a soft, sophisticated scent, but it might as well be the headiest perfume in the world with the way my head spins.
Lost in her taste, her scent, I let my hands course all over her body as our kiss grows even wilder, our motions impatient and feverish.
The thickness of her robe prevents me from truly enjoying every curve and dip of her body, and it robs me of the softness of her skin.
So, I pull it up, bunching it at the belt holding it closed, and fill my hands with her bare ass.
She moans in my mouth as I knead the flesh, clinging onto me harder.
When yet again, this isn’t enough, I tug at the knot of the belt with avid hands.
It resists a little, but I can’t look down because I’m not letting go of her lips.
I don’t need to, as she comes to my aid, untying the belt herself.
The robe opens, hanging loosely on her shoulders, and one of my hands rushes to fill itself with the full swell of her tit.
It fills my palm, its weight familiar, smooth, and soft as I fondle it.
Her breasts have always been generous, even at fifteen.
But during those first few years together, as she matured into a woman, I noticed with awe that there was more and more to worship and play with.
“Jax,” she moans when I pinch the hardened tip. She arches into me, pressing herself onto my rigid cock.
“Where?” I grunt. “Where do you want me?”
“Upstairs. My bed’s upstairs.”
Grabbing her ass with both hands again, I pick her up, lifting her into my arms. She wraps her thighs around my waist as I begin our ascent.
But between the heated kiss, my lack of familiarity with her house, and the way my head spins from the high intensity of the moment, I stumble on the fourth step.
I break our fall so softly, ensuring she doesn’t get hurt, that I’m not even sure she notices, too busy kissing me.
Fuck the bed. This is happening here and now.
When her greedy hands tug at the back of my T-shirt, I rip myself away to pull it off completely.
Looking down at her afterward, I lose my ability to talk or even think properly.
Her robe only covers her arms below the shoulders, flat on the steps behind her, and I all but revel at the view.
She’s the most gorgeous sight there’s ever been.
Precious, perfect curves and dips wrapped in soft, pale skin.
Those pink, pebbled nipples have my mouth aching for a taste, and the curly patch between her legs has me salivating.
Her hooded eyes are heavy with lust, and when she tries to press her knees together, all it does is trap my hips between them as her body arches, her tits lifting in clear invitation. And I’m too starved to resist such an offer.
So, with one hand leaning on the step beside her and the other grabbing a soft swell, I lunge forward and wrap my lips over the hard tip on the other side.
The little cry she lets out, back lifting to press herself deeper into my mouth, makes me suck harder, my tongue circling the puckered surface. She was always so sensitive to my touch. Always so eager for it. And I was, still am, devoted to giving her anything she wants. Any fucking thing.
Her hands return to my head, nails digging into my scalp as she guides me, pressing for more.
My cock aches between us, even as I rub myself onto the warmth of her pussy.
I’m desperate for some relief, fucking dying for it.
I haven’t been with a woman since the day she came back into my life.
There was no desire for it. Not if it wasn’t with her.
That means I’ll be coming embarrassingly fast. And I fucking hate that.
I want to be inside her the whole night, to fuck her until we’re nothing but dehydrated and panting, sore all over, and exhausted.
It seems she wants the same thing, because she begs, “Jax, I need you inside me. Please …”
Not yet. Not quite yet.
Letting go of the nipple in my mouth, I move on to the other one, mirroring my thorough treatment.
And when she moans my name again, I let it go to begin my journey down.
I want to taste every inch of skin I come across, so I do.
My lips and tongue fervently sample her smoothness as I lower down her perfect body, all the way to the drenched path I crave.
Once I reach it, I kiss the curly mound and, adjusting myself, settle one of her legs over my shoulder.
As much as I want to lick her and fill my mouth with her taste, I take a moment to admire this part of her first. Still my favorite pussy in this entire world.
So pink, so perfect, and so fucking wet.
It’s practically seeping out of her, much like the precum wetting my tip.