Chapter 14 Jackson
JACKSON
“Maeve.” I school my features, acting as cool and nonchalant as possible as I jog down the stairs to greet my sister. “What are you doing here?”
Maeve’s rustling through my fridge. Her stare is full of scrutiny as I approach. “I need a stick of butter. And some sugar.”
“What am I? The general store?”
“It’s after six on a Tuesday. Everything’s closed.” Her brows furrow as she heads for the cupboard where I store my dry goods. “Why are you being such a dick?” She tosses her words over her shoulder as she appraises the contents of the counter. “And when did you become a wine drinker?”
Shit. Shit. Shit. “I’m expanding my horizons.”
She pulls out my sugar and gives me an incredulous stare. “I’m sure you are.”
She eyes the stack of books on my table—Rosalie’s books. Fuck.
“Since when do you go to the library?”
“I’ve been reading.” It’s not a lie.
“You read romance novels?” She scoffs in disbelief.
“I started this week.”
“You’re reading romance books?” She scoops some sugar into a container, then closes it to put in her bag along with the butter. “Are you okay?”
“What? They’re good stories. It’s more than just smut, you know.”
She stares, her mouth agape. “Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?”
“Maybe I’m just growing up.”
“Right.” Maeve laughs, and it irritates me.
“What? I can’t evolve?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Sure.” She draws out the word as she meets my gaze. “But I’m pretty sure you’re high right now.”
“I am.” I grin at her assessment before I realize it’s counterproductive to my argument. “That’s offensive.”
“Okay, well.” She slings her bag onto her shoulder. “This has been weird. I’m gonna go.”
“Fine.”
“Tell Rosalie I said hi,” she says casually.
I don’t know how she suspects, but the shock on my face is the confirmation my sister needs.
“Damn it, Jackson! I told you to stay away from her.”
I take a step closer and drop my voice to a whisper. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Who would I tell?” She lowers her voice to match mine.
“I mean it. Please. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here.”
“Really, Jackson? Do you hear yourself? She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s with you. Is this really what you want, to be someone’s dirty little secret?”
“So, now you’re judging us both?”
“I want you to be happy. I want her to be happy. But what you’re doing . . . it creates a mess that I don’t have the time or energy to fix.”
“No one’s asking you to fix shit. Just don’t be a blabbermouth.”
“Rude!” Her jaw drops.
“I mean it.” My warning comes out more like a growl. “Mind your business for once, and don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Her jaw hardens, almost as if she’s grinding her teeth, then she stomps past me to the door.
“Shit.” I shouldn’t have said that. I walk after her. “I’m sorry, Maeve. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” She curtly dismisses my concern, but by the look of hurt on her face, she’s not in the mood for a discussion. She levels me with a stare as she opens the door. “Good night, Jackson. Be careful. Please.”
My feet still at her warning. Her meaning is clear. Don’t hurt Rosalie. Don’t fuck this up.
“’Night. Drive safe.” I barely push the words past my lips before the door shuts behind her. I walk over to lock it, then check to make sure she made it to her vehicle. The headlights are already on the move as she makes a three-point turn out of the drive.
My feet are heavy as I make my way upstairs, processing her warning. Why does she assume I’m going to hurt Rosalie? Obviously, she’s lacking some of the nuance and reasoning for why Rosalie is here, but am I really such a heartless bastard? Does she think I’m not good enough for her friend?
As I climb into the attic, Rosalie’s worried gaze greets me.
“She’s gone.” I force a smile.
“Oh, my God!” Instant relief floods Rosalie’s face. She sinks back into the sofa and presses a hand to her heart. “That was too close.”
“I agree.” I frown as I join her on the sofa. I can’t seem to shake my sister’s commentary. “Though, would it be the end of the world if she found you here?”
“Yes.” Her voice is exasperated.
“Oh.” I deflate into the opposite corner of the couch. “I didn’t realize I was such a loser.”
“What?” Rosalie sits up and her head shakes. “Jackson, this has nothing to do with you.”
I don’t see how that’s possible. “Why, then?”
She presses her thumbs against her temple.
“I’m too high for this conversation.”
“Sorry.”
This really did ruin our buzz. And more importantly, it ruined what we had just started. She and I are back to fully clothed, and that’s a travesty.
“It’s not your fault.” She sighs, her gaze eating up the space between us with longing. “Maybe this is the universe sending us a sign.”
“And what sign would that be?”
“Maybe it’s better we don’t.” She motions between us. “I mean, it’ll only get messy.”
Oh, no. There’s no way I’m letting her regret this.
“I wholeheartedly disagree.”
“Seriously? Your sister almost caught us in a compromising situation.”
“No way she would have come up here.” I don’t mention it’s because Maeve would’ve assumed I was up here with a lady friend.
“She was raiding my kitchen. That’s it. No hidden message from the universe.
Just a person who forgot a few items from her weekly shopping trip.
Besides, if fate could talk, I’d think it’d want us to get naked. ”
“Fate?” Her lips press together, almost as if she’s attempting to hide her smile. But I spot the humor in her eyes. “Not your dick?”
I scoot a little closer on the sofa. I should tell her that my sister knows she’s here. I should. But if I do, this thing between us is done.
“I’ve been reading the book you gave me.”
“Uh huh?”
“I don’t know if it’s me or that damn book, but there’s something you should know.” My voice lowers with each syllable but I lean close so she can hear.
“And what’s that?” The breathlessness to her words sends a spike of arousal through my body. Does she feel it too? Is her heart pounding in her chest the way mine is?
I lean in as if I plan to kiss her, but instead of claiming her lips with mine, I turn my chin at the last second and whisper against the shell of her ear.
“All I can think about is fucking you.”
“Oh.” She gasps. She doesn’t argue or push me away. She wants this, too. My hand slides up her thigh.
“I think we could make the rest of this week a lot more fun if we stop fighting and just give in.”
“I want to, Jackson.” She squeezes her eyes shut as she releases a frustrated groan. “But—”
“Rosalie.” I cut her off before she can list all the ways this goes wrong.
I graze my mouth down her neck and press a kiss just above her clavicle.
“Tell me I’m not the only one.” I understand her reservations.
I do. But I also know Rosalie, and she doesn’t allow herself to be selfish.
“Tell me I’m not crazy for wanting you.”
“You aren’t crazy.” She weaves her hands into my hair as I kiss my way to the center of her chest.
I stop before I get carried away, and find her gaze so she can witness the sincerity of my plea.
“No more excuses, Rosalie. No pros and cons. No holding yourself to perfection, or doing what you think is expected. The next few days, you can be anyone you want. Do anything you want. Be the woman who takes what she wants.”
A breath passes and I begin to lose hope. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe she’s not aching to be with me the way I ache for her. But then the tension shifts. There’s a charge behind her gaze that lights, a smolder that sparks and indicates she made her choice.
She reaches for me, grasping my shirt as her lips crash into mine.
I told her to take what she wants, and she chose me. She wants me. My mood soars as I kiss her back with everything I have. With everything I’ve been holding back.
We shift on the sofa and she leans back, her legs widening to accommodate my body over hers. Her kisses are hard and demanding. We both gasp for breath as our tongues battle for control.
I try to be respectful, but when she grinds her body against mine, all propriety leaves my brain.
I kiss down her body, tugging the collar of her shirt low along with the cups of her bra to expose her breasts.
I suck one of her nipples into my mouth and pinch the other lightly, following her gasps to learn what she likes.
She arches her back as my hand snakes around her body. I kiss her breasts as I feel around and release the clasp of her bra. She pushes me back a little, and reaches down to the hem of her shirt, removing it and tossing it to the floor.
I’m temporarily stunned, my attention completely transfixed by her body. She’s stunning. So fucking attractive that my entire body aches for her touch. I can’t believe this is happening. Fucking finally.
“What?” Her question jolts me back into the moment.
I ditch my shirt and climb back over her. “Just thinking about all the filthy things I want to do with you.”
I capture her mouth. Kissing. Tasting. Sucking. Touching. Her body is a map, and I’m ready to explore every inch. My movements are unhurried, but purposeful. Her hands run down my body, scraping along my back and sending a rush through my veins.
I’m impossibly hard, and each time she rubs her body against my length, the urge to ditch my pants and thrust inside her heat overcomes my thoughts.
But I keep my dick in line. I’m not rushing this.
The more I do, the faster it’ll be over.
I need to savor every second with Rosalie, because I’m not certain we’ll have more than tonight.
My mouth is back on her breasts when her fingers weave into my hair and tug.
“Jackson.” Her groan is desperate.
“What do you need, darlin’? Tell me.”