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Crushed

Page 7

by Skyla Madi


  “I don’t see myself being with anyone but you,” I tell him. I slip my hand over his and pull it from my face. “One day, when we’re not surrounded by poison, you can ask me again and I’ll say yes, but right now…I don’t want this to be our memory of it.”

  Jackson chuckles. It’s deep and rich, not filled with disappointment. “You managed to reject me without hurting my feelings.”

  Scoffing, I shove him and he grabs me low on my hip, holding me against him. “I didn’t reject you.”

  “No, I get it.”

  “You do?”

  He cranes his neck until his lips graze mine. “I do.”

  His fingers on my bare skin ignites my senses, like it always has.

  “So, we’re okay?”

  Jackson kisses me, a single kiss that vibrates against my lips.

  “We’re more than okay.”

  My breath hitches as he leans in and kisses me again, deeper this time. I don’t think I’ve ever grown accustomed to the way my nerves ignite when he kisses me, or when his hands move to intimate places. I hope I never do.

  Jackson nudges me onto my back, our kiss breaking. I let out a heavy exhale as his saliva dries on my lips. He coats my jaw and my throat in slow, torturous kisses, and I close my eyes. Underneath my palm, as I slide it through his hair, down the back of his neck, and the warm flesh of his bare shoulders, his skin feels as though it vibrates, and I can’t imagine having the same effect on him as he does on me. I mean, how could I? I’ve always felt so small, so insignificant when pressed up against him.

  Jackson’s lips brush over my collarbone and down to the valley between my breasts. I didn’t hear it before, but now it’s painfully obvious in this otherwise silent room. I’m panting, breathless.

  He kisses the swell of my breasts as I move to bury my fingers in his hair. He continues to touch me all over, his fingers excruciatingly slow on my body, but he leaves nothing untouched, and eventually ends up south of my hips, toying with the hem of my plain underwear.

  I try to calm the rapid thrum of my heart. It’s outrageous. Loud enough to match the sound of a busy New York subway during peak hour. The mere feel of his bare skin on mine sends blood rushing through my veins, setting every inch of me on fire. My body trembles with anticipation as he moves closer to the spot I so desperately want him to be.

  Pulling away from me, Jackson hooks his thick fingers around my underwear and tugs. Gasping, I lift my hips and our stares lock, even in the dark. I push my hips off the bed. Jackson sits back on his heels, sliding my underwear down my legs. I lift them, allowing him to whip them off my feet and toss them over his shoulder.

  I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s making me feel like this is our first time together. I move my arm and rest it across my breasts, covering my nipples completely.

  “Why are you hiding from me?” he asks, amusement lighting his tone.

  “You’re making me feel…”

  He grips my leg and guides it toward his shoulder. “How am I making you feel?”

  I place my ankle on his shoulder and he plants a soft kiss on the ball of my ankle.

  “Vulnerable,” I whisper. “Exposed.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Not bad. Not bad at all. Just…different.”

  Jackson kisses my ankle again and again. He hunches forward as he makes his way back up my leg and onto my inner thigh. I purse my lips to keep from moaning and giggling as his stubble teases my sensitive flesh. It isn’t until he kisses the very outer edges of my vagina that I jolt upright, flicking my hips backward, away from his eager mouth.

  “Can we…can we skip this part?” I ask, tucking my hair behind my ears.

  He sits up slightly, resting his weight onto one arm. “You don’t want me to make you feel good?”

  “I do.” I lean forward and cup his face. I tug him closer to me and he shuffles between my thighs. “But I’m just not feeling one hundred percent in that area.”

  He quirks a brow.

  “It’s slightly different now that I’m pregnant. More…you know…and I’d rather not have you exploring the area with your tongue.”

  He pecks me on the lips, dragging his finger up and down my inner thigh, sliding dangerously close to the apex of my thighs.

  “I don’t care if it’s different, Selena, but I can skip it if that’s what you want.”

  I nod and relax, letting my muscles fall into their usual Jackson-induced stupor.

  “I can touch you here though, right?” He flicks a finger over my opening and my breath hitches so hard my throat threatens to cramp.

  “Yeah…” I utter—I think I utter—and he touches me again, on the clit this time, and my hands fly to the sheet beneath my ass. I bunch it in my fists.

  I don’t think I’ve ever had so much pressure down below before. I don’t think I’ve felt so…so…engorged.

  Groaning, I let my legs fall apart and Jackson curses under his breath.

  “Don’t touch it,” I gasp, flexing my hips. “Just come here.”

  My body begins to quiver—and it’s not normal. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never felt so…cock drunk. Yeah. That’s what this is.

  “No foreplay?” Jackson chuckles, bringing his face level to mine. “That’s your favorite part.”

  Desire pools in my belly as he positions himself between my legs, his sweatpants still on.

  Why isn’t he in a hurry? I’m in a hurry. Sweat bubbles along my brow. “Take your pants off.”

  He simpers, flicking his tongue against my lower lip. “No.”

  “Jackson…” I growl and he clamps a hand around my mouth.

  “That was loud.”

  I don’t care anymore. I don’t. I’ve never wanted him so bad. I’ve never been so turned on.

  Groaning, he flexes his hips against me and I feel the shape of his rock-hard cock beneath the pathetic fabric of his pants.

  I press against him, desperate to feel any kind of friction. I need it. I need to release some of this tension. I lick the palm of his hand, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he cheers me on, demanding I like his warm flesh more and more and more, until he snatches his hand away and slaps it against my oh-so sensitive center. I gasp and groan, dropping my head back as he uses my own saliva to stimulate my already throbbing pussy.

  “Jackson…” I whisper, clenching the hem to his pants in my hands. I bring my knees as high as I can in order to feel more of him, to increase the friction, the pressure.

  He crushes his mouth to mine and kisses me so deeply I almost don’t realize the change of pressure between my legs. He’s replaced his fingers with the head of his bare cock, and I no longer grip the hem of his sweatpants, but his bare, smooth ass.

  Jackson hisses as he pushes the head of his stony erection inside of me and catches my lower lip between his teeth.

  “I’ve needed this,” he rushes out on an exhale. “I’ve needed you.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. I’ve needed him too.

  “Show me.”

  Jackson chuckles darkly, the kind of chuckle I haven’t heard in a long time, before pushing his entire length inside of me. Moaning, I arch my back, and he fills the space with his large arms, wrapping them around my waist as he holds himself deep inside me.

  We both sigh. Satisfied. After all this time, avoiding each other and fighting, we are home.

  “Is that okay?” he asks, the lust in his tone gone for the moment. “It doesn’t hurt? I’m not pushing on the baby?”

  I shake my head with a chuckle that vibrates my chest. “No. You’re fine.”

  I flick my hips against him, letting him know it’s okay if he moves. He takes my lead and runs with it. I squeak as he slams his hand onto the bonded leather headboard and pounds wildly into my core, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

  I bite my lip against all the noise I want to make. Is this how it’s going to be when we have our baby? Jackson and I doomed t
o silent sex? Excitement prickles along the back of my neck. Is it strange that I’m actually looking forward to it?

  It doesn’t take long for my body to quiver. It never does with Jackson. He flicks his hips on the right angle and with varying tempo. I do my best to meet him thrust for thrust, but for most of it, all I can do is press hard against him as something sinister builds deep down. I cry out, urging him to keep going. He kisses me to shut me up, groaning his own pleasure into my mouth.

  I know how hungry he is. I heard it in the way he groaned. I can feel it in the way he kisses me. I grip his massive shoulders in my hands before sliding them onto his back. My nails bite into his skin. I know they do. His grunt confirms it, but I can’t stop, not when I’m so…close…to…

  “Jackson.”

  I gasp on an inhale as whatever built up inside me spills over. I shudder against him, relishing in the way my insides pulsate and clench.

  Jackson’s own movements become rigid and erratic as he buries his face in the crook of my neck and moans and groans against my damp flesh.

  I remove my fingernails from his skin and he quivers, as though the orgasm drained everything from his body, and I stroke his hair and the back of his neck.

  “I have a dating scan tomorrow afternoon,” I tell him and he lifts his head.

  I try to ignore the fact he’s still inside of me, but the twitching of his shaft is distracting…and a little arousing, if I’m being honest.

  “A dating scan?”

  “It’s an ultrasound.” I sense the nervousness in my tone. Can he? “We can see the jellybean, if you want?”

  I don’t know why I approach the subject with caution. He’s accepted the fact he’s going to be a father, but for some reason, I’m still concerned about rejection.

  “If I want?” I hear him smile as he chuckles. “Of course I want to see the jellybean. Can they tell if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “It’s a bit too soon for that, I think.”

  Jackson pulls out of me, kicks off the rest of his sweatpants, and drops into the space beside me. Exhaling, he tucks me under his arms and holds me tight against his body. I’m painfully aware of the mess between my legs, but I don’t want to leave to use the bathroom just yet. Not during this conversation.

  “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”

  “A girl,” I say without hesitation. “Then a boy.”

  “A girl, huh…” He clears his throat. “A girl would be the death of me.”

  I nudge him playfully. “If Seth can deal with raising a girl, you can too.”

  Jackson scoffs. “Seth’s fine now, but you wait until Chloe’s a teenager and boys start coming around. He’s going to lose the fucking plot.”

  I laugh. Seth never wanted a girl, in fear of karma coming back to bite him in the ass, but he got one. I see Jackson’s point though. Even I dread Chloe’s teenage years. She’s going to be beautiful, like her mother, and Seth is going to have a tough time keeping the boys at bay.

  “Selena?”

  “Mm?”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a great mother.”

  I smile against his chest. I never really thought about it—about what kind of mother I’ll be. Some would argue that I’m not cut out to be a parent. A few years ago, I would have agreed, but I’m not that girl anymore. Day by day, I’m slowly screwing my head on straight. I mean, I’m not perfect, but who is?

  Pre-pregnancy, I never wanted children. I couldn’t figure out how anyone could voluntarily want their body hijacked by a little squishy beast. Who would want to push a watermelon out of their vaginas and choose to lose sleep?

  But now I get it.

  As soon as that pregnancy test turned positive, I knew in my heart that I’d do anything for this little jellybean inside me.

  Absolutely anything.

  Chapter Nine

  Jackson

  I don’t want to jinx it, but Selena and I are finally in a good place. She knows all my secrets and I know all hers. It’s freeing, to say the least. Today, nothing can bring me down. Not the rain, not Amelia, and definitely not the asshole standing across this damn ring from me.

  “You’re light on your toes today…” Seth points out as he slips into my corner. He grabs at my headgear, checking the strap. “So was Selena at breakfast. I assume the talk went well last night?”

  I glance sideways at him. Mostly because of the tone he used when he said the word “talk.”

  “The talk went just fine.”

  He smirks at me, a gentle curve in his lips that he can’t hide, even if he wanted to.

  “You going to be my ring girl today?” I tease. “Is that why you’re not wearing a shirt?”

  He shoves me against the corner pole with a laugh and I catch myself on the ropes. On second thought, Seth seems less wound up today as well. Perhaps we both had talks last night that went well. I glance over my shoulder at Olivia, who chats to a woman strolling on a treadmill. With a broad smile, she pulls her hair into a high ponytail and smooths her palms down the front of her white tank top. I can’t tell if she got laid. She’s always bouncing around like energy manifests in her veins on demand. Turning to Seth, I push myself back onto my feet.

  “You know what we’re doing today, yeah?” he asks, adjusting the straps on my red boxing gloves.

  I shrug, not bothering to look at him. “Yeah. I’m going to beat the shit out of…whoever that guy is.”

  “Not exactly.” He points at my opponent. “We’re working the body all while avoiding shots to the head. Think you can manage?”

  I nod and slip my mouthguard into my mouth. He slaps the headgear and I bite into the mouthguard out of frustration. I hate wearing headgear. It throws me off. “Piece of cake.”

  Seth leaves the ring and joins Darryl on the floor. I hear Darryl chastise him in a hushed tone for allowing me to drop out of going pro legitimately. He shouldn’t worry about me so much. He’s got a good thing going here at the gym. He’ll find someone else to coach, sure enough. Plus, I’ll pay him well if I win Amelia’s fight. I’m talking enough money to allow him to go into early retirement. Seth too.

  “All right,” Seth shouts, planting his hands on his slim hips. “Get to it then.”

  I glance at him. Is the bell not working? My opponent, a familiar six-foot lean bean, walks toward me, his blue boxing gloves held up. He steps cautiously, way too cautious for a friendly spar. I simper. I suppose he’s right to feel on edge. I don’t do friendly spars. I step out of my corner with all the confidence in the world. I’m on cloud nine. I’m going to be rich and I’m going to be a daddy. Nothing can stop me today.

  Selena

  It’s been a while since I’ve stepped foot in Seth and Olivia’s gym. The glass door closes behind me and I stop, letting the air-conditioning blow against my skin, shivering as the small drops of freezing, unwanted raindrops are pushed around by the cold air. It’s funny. This gym used to belong to Olivia’s dad before Seth bought it. Since Rick’s unexpected departure, they’ve made a lot of changes to the gym, but it still feels like it always has. In a way, this place is a second home to me. Olivia and I used to spend so much time messing about inside these walls…such a long time ago now. I wonder if our children will find as much comfort in this place as we did. I hope Jackson and I have a girl. She and Chloe would be the best of friends. God knows, if we have a boy, we wouldn’t see them as much, if at all. Not if Seth has a say, anyway. I smirk at the thought as I make my way across the floor and over to the ring in the far right corner. I don’t know whose kid will be more corruptive, mine or theirs?

  I catch sight of my outfit in a semi-distorted sheet of steel glued to the wall. I hope a white, frilly blouse and a cute pair of black A-line shorts is appropriate for an ultrasound. I glance down to my simple black heels. These might be a bit much…

  I tilt my head up and look for Jackson. Like I expected, he’s in the boxing ring, his fists sheathed in dyed leather, his head too. I slow my steps as he
angrily swipes at his head and shouts something at Seth.

  Seth’s large hands grip the rope and I can see the tension in his muscles as he squeezes tightly. I hear the word “headgear” snapped in Seth’s dark tone, but Jackson swipes at it again.

  I pick up my pace, moving quickly toward the ruckus. Olivia keeps a tutu-clad Chloe occupied by the yoga mats to the left with a pen and Darryl’s clipboard.

  “Hey,” I greet, sliding up beside Darryl, who stands next to Seth, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his cargo pants. Everything about him is resigned, like he’s given up the argument already. I don’t blame him. Jackson isn’t an easy to person to argue with.

  “Selena,” Jackson snaps, his voice somehow filled with relief. “Will you take this damn thing off?”

  He swipes at his head again and I frown.

  “The headgear?”

  Seth whirls to face me and I inch back as he towers over me with his gigantic frame. “He needs it.”

  “I don’t need it,” Jackson counters, crossing the ring to where we stand.

  “Six shots to the head, Jackson,” Seth growls, not taking his eyes off me. “I’m trying to avoid a concussion.”

  Oh, boy. It seems I’m wedged between a hard place and a hard place. I peer around Seth to Olivia, clenching my Michael Kors little black clutch in my hand. She shrugs at me and hands Chloe a pencil, leaving me to fend for myself against the wolves.

  “I wouldn’t have been hit in the head if I could fucking see.” Again, Jackson hits the headgear. “This is ridiculous. Take it off, or I’m done.”

  Clearing my throat, I move past Seth to the ring. With a growl, he snatches my wrist in his large hand, catching me off guard.

  “Seth,” Jackson and Olivia warn in unison.

  I see the struggle in the deep, dark depths of Seth’s stare as he turns it on me. I know he’s just trying to look after his friend as well as be a good coach, but Jackson doesn’t want to wear the headgear. Besides, when did Seth ever wear the headgear?

  “You never wore your headgear,” I point out and Darryl mumbles his agreement.

 

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