Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33
JACKSON
“Your father and I were thinking of coming to visit you,” my mother says. “Maybe this weekend?”
I unlock the door to my room and swing inside, my cell wedged between my ear and shoulder. I toss the keycard on the dresser and begin to unfasten my shirt. What had started as me trying to help in the restaurant had ended in disaster and a promise to never return. Provided they agreed not to tell Meyer. I knew I would never live it down if they did.
“Ah,” I say, stalling. It’s not that I don’t want to see my parents, but if they come here, they’ll quickly become privy to everything that has been going on, including this situation with Meyer. I’m not ready for that. “Now’s not really a good time.”
I chuck my shirt toward the pile of laundry teetering on the chair in the corner. I normally wouldn’t be caught dead doing something so disorganized, but in the absence of a hamper, I’m making do.
“You always say that.”
“I know, Mom. There’s just a lot to do when it comes to taking over a business.”
“We could help you! And Meyer. We…”
My mother’s words fade to the background as I turn toward the wardrobe that houses the rest of my clothing. A wedge heel that definitely does not belong to me rests at the base. My gaze moves upward, scanning the rest of the room.
A perfect match to the heel sits beside the bed. And beside that, a silky blouse. A familiar pencil skirt points toward the bathroom like a compass guiding me due north. And there, sitting outside the ajar bathroom door, is a pair of panties and a lacy black bra.
“Jackson Vaughan, are you listening to me?”
My mouth feels dry, my tongue leaden. “Sorry. It’s— Well, there’s something I have to…take care of. I’ll call you later.”
She huffs. “You better. Or I might just have to show up and force you to have a conversation with me.”
“I’ll call,” I promise, though I’m surprised I can get the words out now that my brain and body are preoccupied. “Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, sweetie. Love you!”
As soon as I hang up, I toss my phone toward the laundry chair, not at all concerned at this precise moment about where it lands.
I push open the bathroom door and then lean against the frame, simply admiring. Meyer rests in the clawfoot tub, bubbles surrounding her. Her hair is fastened in a knot on top of her head. She holds a glass of wine in her hand. And when her gorgeous eyes land on me, I feel like I’ve been set aflame.
“I’ve always wanted to take a bath in one of these,” she says, running dexterous fingers along the lip of the tub.
“Is it living up to expectations?” I ask. My voice has gained a husky edge.
“Almost.” Her fingers brush along the exposed, glistening skin of her clavicle. Then her hand dips below the surface of the water, obscured by the foamy bubbles, but I can imagine what it’s doing. The small and sharp intake of her breath confirms that her hand has found a home between her legs. “I just can’t quite seem to relax.”
In two quick strides, I cross to her. I pluck the half-full glass of wine from her hand, set it aside, and then I slide my palm along the curve of her jaw. Her skin is soft and her lips plump, begging me to savour them.
My thumb caresses her lower lip. “Would you like some help?”
An answering nip to my thumb is all the confirmation I need. I tilt her chin upwards. She sits straighter, hands braced on either side of the tub, the swells of her breasts now visible amongst the bubbles. I groan low in my throat as I bend to her will, my lips descending on hers.
I can taste the strawberry wine on her tongue. It’s intoxicating, a heady mix of her and her favourite drink.
I lower myself to the floor beside the tub, knees biting into the tile. Meyer watches me with a satisfied smile. Fuck, the things I would do to have her look at me like that all the time.
“What happened to your shirt?” she asks .
I shake my head. “Not important right now. Right now, I need to touch you.”
She leans back again, head resting on the edge behind her. “What are you waiting for, Hotshot?”
Grinning, I don’t waste another second. My arm plunges into the bath water. Settling first on her knee, my hand makes a slow exploration of her silky skin. Meyer’s eyes flash as my fingers trail along the inner side of her thigh, and she lets them fall farther apart the closer I get to her centre.
Just before I arrive, I pause. Her eyes flash again, this time with frustration. I only smile as I stroke her inner thigh, so close to being where she wants me. Needs me.
“Abusing your access to guest rooms?” I tsk .
“Oh, so you’re a guest now? Remind me to call someone to escort you out the next time I find you in my”—she gasps as my thumb brushes her clit—“office.”
With my free hand, I grasp the back of her neck, tugging her face to mine. I can’t resist tasting her again, so I do. She gasps into the kiss when one of my fingers enters her pussy, and I take the opportunity to sweep my tongue into her mouth again.
Everything about Meyer is like a dream come true.
“More,” Meyer demands, out of breath.
“Only if you say please.”
She arches a brow as her gaze meets mine. “I have no trouble finishing this myself.”
And I have no doubt she would, too.
But I shake my head. “Not a fucking chance. If anyone is going to make you come right now, it’ll be me.”
A second digit fills her, and she lets out a curse. Hand on my shoulder, her nails dig into the skin, leaving half-moon indentations. That’s good. I want her to leave her mark on me.
“Still think you could have done better on your own?” I taunt.
She shrugs. “The jury’s still out.”
With a grin, I accept the challenge. Although our working relationship has shifted, this push and pull when we come together like this is just as explosive as the first time.
Water sloshes over the edge of the tub as she involuntarily rocks her hips, meeting the thrusts of my fingers. I keep my eyes on her face, studying the way her lips part. The way her head tips back, exposing the column of her neck. The way her eyes close, like she can’t possibly keep them open a second longer.
“Jackson,” she gasps, and my name on her lips like that is music to my fucking ears.
My thumb presses down on her clit.
And then she explodes. Her inner walls pulse around my fingers, and I take pleasure in watching her ride out her high.
When her head lolls to the side, her gaze, coated in lust, meets mine. She looks so fucking pretty. Sometimes, I have to stop myself from simply staring at her.
She walked into my life at the perfect time, and I don’t ever want to look back.
Pulling my fingers from her pussy, I hold them up for her. Her eyes flit to meet mine, a question in them. Hunger, too. My dick throbs at the carnal want in her gaze.
“Suck,” I demand, and she does. I watch with rapt attention as her tongue swirls around my fingers, tasting the remnants of herself. I don’t mistake the rising heat in her eyes. “What a greedy fucking girl you are.”
She drags my fingers from her mouth with a pop , and then her lips stretch into a sly grin. She shrugs. “I know what I like.”
I love that about her. She isn’t afraid to demand what she wants, inside and outside the bedroom.
Pushing herself up, she stands from the tub, and I shamelessly watch the water trail down her naked body. Droplets cling to her breasts, the softness of her stomach, those tempting thighs.
Beautiful . So goddamn beautiful.
My head fills with visions of my mouth on her skin, kissing her chest, between her legs. I want that. I’ve been craving it since that day on her couch.
I rise from the floor, holding my hand out. Meyer takes it, carefully stepping over the lip of the tub. Then she places a hand on my chest and lets it trail down my stomach, her fingers snagging on the waistband of my pants, then my belt.
Words escape me as I watch her drop to her knees in front of me. Head tilted back, she looks up, a faux innocent smile curving her lips. Then she reaches up and tugs the elastic from her bun, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders.
“My turn,” she says.
“As a self-proclaimed gentleman, I feel I should protest a little,” I reply. “For integrity’s sake.”
She shakes her head with a laugh as she reaches for the button on my pants. “I don’t want you to be a gentleman.”
“Oh, thank fuck . ”
Between the two of us, we make quick work of the rest of my clothes, and then she’s wrapping a hand around my cock and applying the perfect amount of pressure to make me groan.
One of my hands grips the counter behind me while the other buries itself in Meyer’s hair, fisting the strands. I tug a little, and her grip on me tightens in response.
Her tongue darts out, catching the drop of moisture on my tip, and then she licks a line up my shaft that has me sucking in a sharp breath.
Holy fuck .
“Good?” she asks.
“Great,” I croak. I’m surprised I even managed that one word.
She sits back on her heels, looking up at me. “You can tell me what you like. Don’t be shy now, Vaughan.”
“Gonna be completely honest with you, baby. Anything you’re willing to do to me right now is what I like.”
She considers this, considers me, for a moment, and then she leans forward again. Her grip on my cock tightens as she lets the tip rest on her tongue.
When she takes me a little deeper, I place a hand on the back of her head. My fingers tangle in her hair as I coax her to keep going, and they tighten when she swirls her tongue.
A low moan vibrates her vocal chords, and the sound makes my hips jerk.
“Shit,” I curse. I pull back, drawing out of her mouth. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No, keep going.”
After a moment, I relent and ease back into her mouth .
She looks fucking exquisite, kneeling there with my cock in her mouth. I’m tempted to let her keep going, but I can feel my release threatening to build and I have other plans. So, reluctantly, I withdraw.
Meyer’s lips dip into a confused frown. “You didn’t finish,” she says.
I grab her hands and help her to her feet, grinning. “Not yet. I have something I want to do first.”