Madly & the Jackal (Madly Series, Book 3)

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Madly & the Jackal (Madly Series, Book 3) Page 8

by M. Leighton


  “I laid a towel and wash cloth on the sink for you.”

  “You go first. You’re tired and—”

  Jackson’s finger over my lips stopped me mid-sentence. “Don’t argue. Just go.”

  He replaced his finger with his lips for a quick kiss before nudging me toward the bathroom. As much as I wanted a shower, I wasn’t about to argue anymore.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The water felt amazing, but even better was the scent that surrounded me in the shower. It was Jackson. I could smell him in the soap, in the shampoo. I could close my eyes and remember with perfect clarity what they smelled like on his skin. They blended with his natural aroma, a mixture of sunshine and the warm ocean breeze. And man. Dark, musky man.

  By the time I got out and toweled off, my skin was tingling, only in part due to the shower. The rest was a by-product of my wayward thoughts.

  I slipped into his t-shirt, which still hung almost to my knees and opened the bathroom door. Jackson was sitting on the bed, staring at the door. He had an intense look on his face that I didn’t quite know what to make of. I stopped in my tracks.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He said nothing for a long time, just sat there watching me. Finally, he stood. I couldn’t help but notice his fists clenched at his sides. “Nothing,” he said tightly. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a minute and we’ll talk.”

  He walked stiffly past me. I stood, stunned, as he closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

  I perched on the end of the bed and ran my fingers through my hair to pick out the tangles. I wasn’t nearly finished when the bathroom door opened and Jackson emerged in a puff of steam.

  He was naked but for the towel slung low on his hips. I’d seen him this way once before and my reaction was no different. I drank him in like the dessert drinks the rain—hungrily.

  I doubted there was a more perfect specimen of man in all the world. Jackson’s broad shoulders and wide, muscular chest were covered in smooth bronze skin. A light sprinkling of dark hair dusted his pectorals then narrowed over his rigid abdomen and disappeared below his navel.

  I could see his muscles contract with his heavy breathing and the bulge beneath the towel was more than a little noticeable. I felt the blush sting my cheeks and I knew I should avert my eyes. Only I didn’t. I looked. Unabashedly, I looked. And I wanted. Oh, how I wanted.

  With something that ranged between a growl and a groan, Jackson spun away from me and disappeared inside his closet. Moments later, he emerged carrying something in his hand. Without a word, he shut himself in the bathroom again. Much to my dismay, I knew he was getting dressed.

  I couldn’t help but feel a bit put out. What happened to us not being able to keep our hands off each other? And now that it was acceptable for us to touch each other wherever we wanted, as much as we wanted, Jackson was resisting. What’s up with that? It was starting to make me paranoid that every time there was real opportunity, Jackson made excuses.

  That thought was turning over in my mind when Jackson strode from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. The towel was sexier, but I’d take the shorts, too. They showed off his amazing legs and still left most of his body naked to my roving eyes.

  With what sounded like a sigh of frustration, Jackson grabbed the straight-back chair that sat at his desk, plopped it down in front of me and straddled it, laying his arms across the back. He was close enough that we could talk quietly, his face only a few inches from mine, but it was hardly an intimate setting. Again, my paranoia flared.

  “So, what do you want to know?”

  Are you kidding me? I wanted to shout. Everything! But I didn’t. I took a deep breath and responded calmly. “What happened after I swam away? Where did you go? How did you know something was happening?”

  Jackson smiled at my rapid fire questions and my heart skipped a beat. He was the most handsome thing I’d ever seen.

  “Well, for starters, Sentinels are trained to discern smaller vibrations in the water than the average Mer. I could tell there was an inordinate amount of activity to the North of where we were, near the main entrance to Atlas. Considering what had happened with Leviathan, I knew it couldn’t be good. But I had to get you out, so…”

  I gritted my teeth over his continual protection of me, even when I didn’t want to be protected, but I said nothing. We’d had that conversation too many times. He would never listen to me.

  “So what was going on?”

  Jackson frowned. “It’s hard to say. You must’ve kept me invisible for quite a while, as I was able to get pretty close to the unit of Sentinels that were dispatched. I could hear them talking. The traitor must be high up in the ranks of royalty. Whoever it is knew who we were, who we were masquerading as and where we’d gone. The only way I can figure that information was obtained was through Leviathan. So whoever the traitor is definitely works with Rumpel.”

  I gasped. “How did you get out?”

  “Well, they set up around the portal, but I was able to get behind them. Between them and the portal. When you sent the whale in, I slipped through just as they were scrambling. When they saw that it was just a whale, they shut off the alarms and got back into formation.”

  “So, just like that, you got away?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Anger sprang to life in my gut like a brushfire. “Then what took you so long? Do you know how worried I was? Do you know what it was like, thinking I swam away and left you to get captured? Or left you to… to…” I couldn’t squeeze the word “die” past the lump in my throat. A single sob tore through it, though, and I jumped up from the bed and went to stand in front of the window.

  “Left me to what?” Jackson asked softly.

  I still couldn’t utter that worst case scenario. But even the fear and heartache didn’t alleviate the fire that burned in my belly.

  When I didn’t answer, Jackson asked again, but this time his voice was little more than a whisper. His lips moved against my hair. He had come to stand right behind me. “Left me to what?”

  My temper exploded. I whirled on him. “What do you think, Jackson? What do you think was going through my head when you didn’t show up? What do you think was going through my head as I circled the shallows for hours, waiting for you? Do you have any idea what that was like?”

  If I hadn’t been sobbing, my voice would’ve been raised to the point of alerting Jersey. But as it was, I could barely breathe past the lump in my throat. Too much had happened too fast lately. Losing Jackson—or even the thought of losing Jackson—was the last straw.

  As quickly as it had arrived, the anger drained away, leaving only raw emotion in its wake. Covering my face with my hands, I dissolved into the torrential downpour of tears that had been threatening for what seemed like an eternity.

  I felt Jackson’s arms come around me and pull me to him, his hands rubbing soothing circles over my back. And I cried. And I cried. And I cried.

  He whispered unintelligible things into the quiet room. He brushed his lips against my hair. He swayed gently back and forth. He went through all the right motions, but none of them calmed the thing I hadn’t told him about, the one thing that had begun to bother me almost as much as the rest.

  As I thought of it, I began crying afresh, afraid that somehow being forced to marry me had done something to alter the way Jackson felt about me. My rational mind assured me that it made no sense, but I was overwrought and my emotions were behind the wheel.

  “What is it?” he asked, having noticed my renewed misery.

  I shook my head as I sobbed.

  “Madly, what is it?”

  Again, I shook my head but said nothing. Not only was it humiliating, I was secretly afraid he might confirm it.

  “Tell me, Madly. What is it?” When still I didn’t answer, Jackson bent to scoop me up into his arms and carry me to the bed. He sat down, cradling me in his lap as he stroked my hair with his free
hand. “Please tell me, baby,” he whispered, his voice sounding nearly as tortured as I felt.

  With a finger beneath my chin, Jackson urged my face up until our eyes met. He looked genuinely concerned and it touched me in an unexpected way.

  I tried to control my trembling chin, but it was no use. “I’m afraid that you don’t want me anymore. That something has changed and you don’t want me…like that anymore.”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks and I buried my hot face against his chest to await his dreaded response.

  “Madly, I told you I want your first time to be special and—”

  “With you, it would be special no matter what,” I mumbled.

  “But I want more for you. I want—”

  “Something we may never have, time we may never have.”

  Jackson didn’t respond for a distressing amount of time. My heart sank with each second that ticked by. I was right. Things had changed. He had no argument for me because it was all true.

  When he shifted me off his lap, I wanted to get up and run right out the door and into the night, never to return again. A bullet to the heart couldn’t have hurt any worse than the pain of his rejection.

  But then his lips were on mine. They were light as a summer breeze and twice as warm. They fluttered over my mouth, my nose, my forehead and my cheeks before returning to my lips. They were hovering there, a breath away when he spoke.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone so much in all my life. And I never will again. We belong together, Madly. Always.”

  And then he kissed me. Really kissed me. I was breathless in seconds. My lips fell open and his tongue slid in to tangle with mine as he eased me onto my back. He stretched out beside me, one knee coming to settle between mine, opening my legs to his explorations.

  I wore nothing under Jackson’s shirt. I felt his palm the instant it hit my thigh and it burned like a branding iron with every inch that it ascended, dragging my only clothing up with it.

  His hand slipped under my butt and lifted, just enough to ease his shirt from beneath me and push it up to my ribs. His fingers danced over my stomach and up the valley between my breasts, causing chills to spread across my skin. He deepened the kiss further just as I felt his palm brush my sensitive nipples. I arched my back, straining toward him, a silent plea for more. But he didn’t give me more. Instead, his hand skimmed its way back down to my waist just before he rolled off me.

  My mind was spinning and my body was on fire. I thought Jackson’s was, too. His retreat only added to my confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” I panted.

  “Come here,” he said, urging me first into a sitting position and then into a stand. He situated me between his legs, facing him. They were spread where he sat on the bed in front of me.

  Jackson looked up at me, his eyes sparkling in the low light. Reaching forward, he took my hand in his. He studied it as he toyed with my fingers, stroking each one from knuckle to tip. He turned my hand over and rubbed circles into the palm as he looked back up at me. “The thought of kissing you, touching you, licking you, feeling your body wrapped around mine…” he said huskily, his voice trailing off. He raised my palm to his mouth and kissed the center. “If you’re sure this is what you want—now, like this—you’d make me the happiest man on the planet. But only if you’re sure.”

  Looking down into his face, I was speechless. Breathless. I’d been wrong. So, so wrong. I could see the passion in his eyes, the desire. And, although I knew he was trying to do the right thing by me, the only thing I wanted him to do was take me. However, whenever, wherever. I’d never wanted anything more.

  All I could do was nod.

  “You’re sure.”

  I nodded again.

  He smiled, a slow spread of his lips that revealed his perfect teeth. His eyes never left mine as he slowly sank his teeth into the flesh at the base of my thumb. A thrill raced through my body and landed in the lowest part of my stomach. I caught my breath.

  “Do you know the things I’ve dreamed of doing to you, Madly?” he whispered, his voice like sultry velvet.

  I shook my head.

  Holding my gaze, Jackson scooted off the bed and onto his knees, sitting back on his haunches. With both hands, he tugged my right leg until I raised it. He set my foot on his thigh. I reached out to hold onto his shoulder for balance.

  “I’ve pictured these perfect legs a thousand times,” he began, massaging my calf. Gently, he kissed the inside of my knee and then nipped it with his teeth as he’d done my palm. Electricity shot through me again. “What they’d feel like against my cheek.” He raised my leg further until it was draped over his shoulder. Turning his head, he nuzzled the inside of my thigh. “Mmm, just like I imagined.” Heat poured through me as his hands stroked my thigh, higher and higher until his fingers brushed my groin. I sucked in a breath and held it, not knowing what I wanted him to do, but knowing I wanted him to do something.

  “I’ve fantasized about how you’d respond to me,” he said, teasing me with his fingers at the one place I wanted him most. “About how warm you’d feel inside.” Gently, he slid one long finger inside me. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he moved it slowly in and out. It was all I could do to stay on my feet, but somehow I did. I had to see what he’d do next. “But most of all, I wanted to know what you’d taste like.” And then he did the unthinkable. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to me.

  My knees buckled, but Jackson wound his arm around me and pulled me to him, crushing my body to him and keeping me upright as I fisted my fingers in his short hair.

  Breath coming in short pants, I felt an explosion building deep inside me, in a place untouched by anyone. Just before I came apart, Jackson released my leg, came up onto his knees and pulled his t-shirt over my head.

  His eyes burned like hot coals in his face as he looked at me. And then his hands were on me again, skating over my hips and stomach, up my ribcage to cup my breasts. Between his fingertips, he rolled my tingling nipples, bringing them into tight, throbbing points. Then they were in his mouth, first one then the other, his hot tongue teasing and flicking them until I felt the explosion building again.

  I was at fever pitch when I felt Jackson shift slightly. His mouth left my breast and blazed a trail up my chest and neck to my mouth as he stood.

  He took my lips with passion, his tongue sliding between them to tangle with mine. The salty taste of my body mingled with Jackson’s own unique flavor was a heady and wicked combination.

  Then his hands were at my waist. Lifting. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his hips. I felt his hardness against me and fire poured through my body. He shifted me into a slightly different position as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

  I folded my legs under me and came up onto my knees, straddling his hips. I spread my legs further until I could feel him brush my aching center.

  Jackson’s hand slipped between us. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out when I felt his fingers touching me. His echoing groan was like pouring fuel onto the fire of my desire.

  I moved against him, tension steadily building inside me, until his fingers left me. I was just about to lean back and beg him for more when I felt him guiding something else into me. He stopped just past my entrance.

  “Easy,” he breathed, taking me by the hips to keep my movements slow as he eased my body down onto his.

  The feel of him slowly filling me was indescribable. Gently, he guided me up and down. With each stroke he took me further, bringing himself a little deeper inside me with each stroke. My breath was coming in short, shallow pants as the tension ratcheted higher and higher.

  Then Jackson stopped me.

  But I didn’t want to stop.

  I tore my mouth from his. “What’s wrong?”

  “Madly, I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” I purred, assuring him. “It feels incredible,” I said, sliding my tongue along his lips before slipping it inside his
mouth for the taste I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

  “It will, but I’ll make it fast.”

  “No, it feels—”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, holding my hips tight and flexing his own until he was buried deep inside me.

  I gasped, only this time not in pleasure. There was pain, yes. Sharp pain. It ached in my abdomen for a moment as my body adjusted to his size. I heard Jackson’s breath hiss through his gritted teeth.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said tightly. I could feel the tautness in every muscle of his body as he stilled himself, fighting the urge to move within me.

  After a few more seconds, when the pain started to subside, Jackson began to grind his hips into mine. It didn’t take long for pleasure to return, completely eclipsing even the memory of the pain. His lips found mine again as he guided me up and down his length.

  He moved me slowly upon him until the sensation began to escalate once more, then he moved me faster and higher, his body invading mine more deeply with each stroke.

  And then it happened. That tension inside me exploded. The air left the room as a shower of fireworks rained down behind my eyes, pleasure pouring through my body in a waterfall of warmth.

  I was barely aware of Jackson holding me to him as he rolled me onto my back. It wasn’t until he began driving his body forcefully into mine that I realized there was still more pleasure to be had.

  A second time, the world swelled and throbbed and pulsed around me until I melted into a wave of pure ecstasy. I heard Jackson’s barely controlled groan as he whispered in my ear, “You’re mine, Madly James Hamilton. Forever.” And then he stiffened, his breath coming in fast, deep gasps until he collapsed on top of me.

  ********

  It seemed that the earth stood still for hours after that. Jackson moved to lie beside me, propping himself up on his elbow so he could trace the lines of my face with his fingertips as he told me all the things he loved about me.

  “And your eyes! They are the perfect blend of blue and green. I could drown in them and die happy.”

 

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