Chapter 38
MAYA
Emma corners me in the kitchen the morning after our movie night, stocking up on formula in the cupboards.
"You two are good together," she says without looking up. "I can see it now, how you balance each other out."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She glances at me, something soft in her expression. "Just don't lie to me again."
"Never."
"I mean it, Maya. No more secrets, not about the big stuff."
"I promise."
She puts the final tin away and then pulls me into a hug. "I love you, both of you, and I want you to be happy."
"I am happy."
"Good." She releases me and smiles. "Now go be happy loudly somewhere else. Chase took Ethan to the park and Jackson's in the shower, so you have approximately twenty minutes before chaos resumes."
Heat floods my face. "Emma..."
"I'm not an idiot, you've been eye-fucking each other since breakfast. Go." She makes shooing motions. "Be young and in love, just keep it down.”
I flee to the basement before she can say anything else mortifying.
Jackson's shower is running. I can hear it through the door, the steady drum of water against tile. For months, I've been sneaking down here, terrified of being caught. Now Emma's practically permitting us.
The shift is dizzying.
I push open the bathroom door, and steam billows out, thick and hot. Jackson's silhouette is visible through the glass. Broad shoulders, water streaming down his back.
"Maya?" His voice is rough. "That you?"
"Yeah."
"Everything okay?"
"Emma told me to come down here and be young and in love." I lean against the sink. "Her exact words."
He laughs. "She's not subtle."
"Never has been."
The shower turns off. Jackson steps out, water dripping off his body, unselfconscious in his nakedness. I've seen him like this dozens of times, but it's different now. No sneaking, no hiding, just him and me, and permission to want each other.
He grabs a towel, wraps it low around his hips, and walks to me.
"Hi," he says.
"Hi."
"You okay? You look..." He touches my face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, everything's..." I swallow hard. "Everyone knows. Emma knows, Chase knows, your mom's going to know, and I don't have to hide anymore."
Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You're freaking out."
"A little."
"Good freaking out or bad freaking out?"
"Good. I think." I touch the pendant at my throat. "It's just strange, being allowed to want you."
His mouth crashes down on mine with bruising intensity. His tongue traces along my lips, coaxing them open, and when I part for him, he deepens the kiss. His hands fist in my hair, holding me exactly where he wants me. When he breaks away, we’re both panting.
“There was never a world where you weren’t allowed to want me.”
His fingers find the hem of my shirt. He raises an eyebrow, a silent question. I nod, and he pulls it up and over my head, tossing it to the wet floor. My bra follows, and then his mouth is on mine again, walking me backward until the cool wall hits my bare back.
“We have to be quiet,” I manage to gasp against his lips.
“Then you better try real fucking hard to keep it down, Stardust.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands on my hips, holding me steady. He looks up, and the heat in his gaze makes my breath catch. “Can I?”
“God, yes.”
He makes quick work of my jeans, tugging them and my panties down in one swift motion. I step out of them, suddenly bare against the wall while he’s still on his knees, still looking at my pussy like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to eat.
“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, his breath warm on my skin.
He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, spreading me open for him. There’s no pause, no teasing. He leans in without warning, his mouth finding my clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes through my folds.
The sensation is so immediate, so intense, that my head thunks back against the wall.
Fuck.
His tongue flicks relentlessly against me, each stroke sending shocks of pleasure up my spine.
My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there as my hips jerk helplessly against his mouth.
A low groan vibrates against my skin when I tug too hard, but he doesn’t pull away—if anything, he presses closer, his hands gripping my thighs to keep me open, his breath hot and ragged between my legs.
Then he slides a finger inside, then another, stretching me, curling just right until I can’t hold back.
“Jackson!” I cry out, slapping my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound.
I grip the wall, trying to steady myself, but he keeps going, reading my body like he’s always been able to. His free hand drifts up my stomach, over my ribs, and finds one of my breasts, his thumb tracing slow, demanding circles over my nipple, while the other remains buried inside.
The dual assault is too much. A sharp gasp escapes my throat as I bite down on my hand. He pulls back, his chin glistening, his eyes dark with lust.
“Don’t you dare hold back,” he commands. “I want to hear every fucking noise I pull out of you.”
Then his mouth is back on me, sucking my clit hard while his fingers thrust into me, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
The orgasm coils tight and then snaps, exploding through me with a force that whites out my vision.
I come with a strangled scream into my hand, my body convulsing around him, my thighs shaking violently.
He doesn’t stop, milking the orgasm from me with his tongue until I’m a whimpering, shuddering mess.
He trails kisses up my inner thigh, over my hip, and across my stomach as he rises. His face glistens, his expression raw and spent. “Shower. Now.”
We stumble into the stall, and he turns the water back on. He presses me against the tiles, one hand braced beside my head, the other sliding between my legs again, slick from my come and the running water.
“So fucking wet,” he rasps in my ear. “So swollen.”
“It’s your fault,” I pant.
“I need to be inside you. Right. Fucking. Now. I need to feel that pussy gripping my cock.”
“Then do it. Stop talking and fuck me, Jackson.”
In one smooth motion, he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. My pendant swings between us, cool against my flushed skin.
He positions the head of his cock at my entrance, his gaze locking with mine. “Ready?”
“Always.”
He pushes inside. One slow, inexorable thrust that stretches me, fills me so it borders on pain. I sink my teeth into his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“Fuck, Maya,” he groans. “Your pussy… It’s perfect.”
He stays buried at the hilt for a moment, letting me adjust. Our foreheads press together, and I can feel the tension in his arms, the effort it takes to hold back.
“You okay?” he grits out.
“Yes… move. Please, Jackson. Move.”
He pulls almost all the way out, then drives back in with a sharp roll of his hips that makes my vision blur. The water cascades over us, his eyes locked on me, watching every twitch, every gasp as he murmurs, “Look at me.”
I do. His green eyes are dark, intense, and the look in them makes me wetter.
“No more hiding,” he growls, each word punctuated with a thrust.
“I love you, Jackson.”
“I love you too.”
He kisses me, deep and consuming, and I’m lost. Lost in the feel of him moving inside me, lost in the way his hands grip me.
He shifts, and suddenly goes deeper, hitting a spot that makes my eyes roll back. “Right there! Yes, right there!”
“I know,” he pants against my mouth. “I know what you need.”
His thumb finds my clit again, rubbing in fast, hard circles. The pressure coils inside me, building hotter than before.
“I’m gonna come,” I warn him, my voice ragged.
“Come on me,” he commands, thrusts growing erratic, losing rhythm. “Let me feel you, Maya. Now.”
The command, the overwhelming feeling of us—it tips me over. My second release shatters me, my pussy clenching around him in pulsing waves. I cry out, the sound echoing in the bathroom. He lets out a guttural moan, his own release spilling into me.
We stay pressed together under the spray, breathing hard. His grip softens, one hand stroking my wet hair.
Finally, he sets me down, steadying me. “Fuck,” he breathes.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
We wash each other slowly, his hands gliding over my skin, mine tracing the hard planes of his back. It’s tender. Quiet. A different kind of intimacy.
After being wrapped in towels and lying on his bed, Jackson traces the pendant where it rests between my breasts.
“You’re really okay?” he asks. “With everyone knowing?”
"I'm more than okay.”
"Good."
"I've been thinking," I say. "About what's next."
"Hm?"
"I want to go back to nursing, not in Pinewood obviously, but here, in Hartford." I look at him. "I want to stay.”
His face transforms, hope and joy lighting his features. "You want to stay?"
"If that's okay..."
"Maya, I've been in love with you for years. Of course it's okay." He pulls me against him. "More than okay."
We get dressed and head upstairs. Emma's in the living room with some baby clothes she bought for Sofia.
She looks up when we enter and takes in our damp hair and matching smiles. "Have a nice shower?"
I flush. Jackson just grins.
"The walls are very thin," Emma says mildly. "Ethan's going to be home in ten minutes, so maybe compose yourselves."
"We're composed," Jackson says.
"Sure you are." But she's smiling, with genuine warmth in her expression. "Maya, there's mail for you on the counter, looks official."
I find the envelope stamped from Hartford General Hospital. My hands shake as I open it.
It's a job offer. Pediatric nurse position, better pay than Pinewood, start date flexible.
"Holy shit," I whisper.
Jackson reads over my shoulder. "You applied?"
"Yeah... after the trial. I didn't think they'd respond so fast."
"You're brilliant and qualified, and they'd be lucky to have you." He kisses my temple. "You taking it?"
I look at the offer letter, at Jackson beside me, at Emma watching us, at this house that became home when I had nowhere else to go.
Because this is what healing looks like.
Not perfect, not without scars, but moving forward anyway, building a life instead of just surviving one.
Jackson pulls me into his arms, and I let myself believe it, that I get to keep this, keep him, keep the family I found and the future I'm building. No more hiding, just living.