I nodded, but Jackson gently nudged my head until I was looking up at him. “Say it. Tell me you understand. You have all the control here, Emily. Okay? We’ll take things as slow as you want to take it.”
“I understand. I…”
“Yes?” he encouraged.
“I like it when you hold me. It feels nothing like the way Ethan held me.”
Jackson swallowed, his eyes moving over my face when he asked, “Aside from today, has he ever forced himself on you?”
I shook my head. “He was mostly neglectful.” One eyebrow rose at my wording. I continued. “I mean we kissed and stuff, but we never went all the way. Today, he was mad because I broke up with him to be with you.”
I looked off to the side as I let him take in what my words implied. If we ever took our relationship further than what mine and Ethan’s relationship had been, he would be my first.
He nodded, almost as if to himself, and then he moved us out of what seemed to be a living room, fully furnished with comfortable looking dark blue couches.
It was small compared to Jackson’s other house, but bigger than my house. It was comfortable, and I much liked this house better than his other one.
He pulled me into the kitchen next, and I let go of his hand to explore on my own. It was absolutely amazing. Red bricks for walls around the kitchen to dark stainless steel and to the far left, what appeared to be a pizza oven.
“Wow,” I breathed out.
“I know, right? Before my grandma died, this was her room. My grandpa must have spent a fortune trying to restore this kitchen into her dream.” He pulled me to one of the kitchen stool by the granite island. “I have a lot of good memories here growing up.”
I eyed the pizza oven. I had never seen one in real life before. “Can we make pizza?”
Jackson smiled. “Lucky you, I always make sure there are always ingredients in this house to make pizza. Aiden is obsessed with that oven, you know.”
“He comes here with you?” I asked looking to the kitchen island, as I fiddled with my thumbs. Had he ever brought anyone else here? Like Beth. Or some other girls.
When Jackson didn’t answer, I looked up and found him staring at me. “Yeah,” he answered slowly. I nodded. I wasn’t brave enough to ask him about the other girls. Jackson’s lips twitched before he walked over to me.
He pressed his lips against mine without warning, and it took about a second or two before I was responding to him. I couldn’t help it. He was very good at kissing me. A low rumble made its way up my throat when his arms went around me, his hand at the small of my back to pull me in closer to him.
“Aside from Aiden, you’re the only person I have ever brought here,” he said against my lips.
“Oh.”
He smiled. “Yeah, oh. You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I denied.
“It’s okay to be jealous,” he said. “It makes me feel pretty damn good.”
I made a move to shove him away, but he saw it coming and captured both of my hands with his. “Okay,” I said, making his smile widened a fraction.
“I would be jealous, too, if the role were reversed.” I looked up and frown. “It’s true,” he said when he read the skepticisms on my face. “You have no idea how possessive I can be.” He paused to study my face. “Especially when it comes to you.”
“Okay,” I said softly. Then to change the subject because I was feeling a little uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me, I ducked under his arms and moved to the fridge. “Are we going to make pizza from scratch?”
He waited a few seconds before he answered, “Yeah. Let me grab the flour.”
9
Past: Emily
By the time the pepperoni pizza was placed in the oven, I was covered in flour from heads to toe.
Jackson took one look at me and laughed. “Cute.” He wiped away the flour I didn’t know was stuck on the tip of my nose.
I wrinkled my nose as I eyed his outfit. “How come you don’t have any flour on you?” I pouted.
“I don’t know what to tell you, babe. Though, I do enjoy the sight thoroughly.”
“Um… okay? Thank you?”
His whole body shook as he laughed even harder. “You’re welcome.”
I would have laughed with him if I didn’t think he was laughing at me. I let out a sigh and walked to the bathroom to clean up what I could.
By the time I emerged, I could smell the cheesy aroma that was already filling up the house. My stomach grumbled to remind me I hadn’t eaten lunch. Jackson either.
I went to look for him and found him in the family room. The room was darkened with blackout curtains; the only source of light came from the electric fireplace with the fire already blazing. Jackson was sitting on the big cotton couch, playing on his phone. When I moved a little further in the room, he looked up at me, a smile instantly taking over his face.
He patted the space next to him, and I took it, scooting in close as he maneuvered us so that my face was on his chest, our feet tangling, and his arms around me as he played with my hair.
I imagined this was what heaven felt like.
We sat there while waiting for the pizza to cook and talk. And we talked about anything and everything that may or may not have been important. It may not have seemed like a big deal, but I found out more about Jackson by the way he described some of his best memories here at this house, with his grandparents then I would have learned, had he talked about the stifling relationship he had with his parents.
During those time we talked, he never once stopped playing with my hair.
And it was like that, that I drifted off to sleep.
I wasn’t even sure when I fell asleep, all I knew was that when I startled awake, Jackson wasn’t next to me. I patted the spot he had sat in and found it still warm. Wherever he had left to, he hadn’t been gone very long.
I heard clanging sounds in the kitchen, and then Jackson softly cursed under his breath, which brought a smile to my face.
Getting up, I made my way to the kitchen and found him taking the pizza out and placing it on a silicon worktop protector on the kitchen island. He was so careful not to make any noise that when he accidentally touched the hot pan and cursing incoherently under his breath, I couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh.
Jackson looked at me, a frown on his face as he placed his thumb in his mouth while he sucked away the pain. I continued to laugh, because I knew if I didn’t laugh, I would’ve walked over to him and do something stupid like begged him to let me suck on his thumb for him instead.
After a while, his frowned disappeared, and he was laughing along with me. “I was trying so hard not to wake you up.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t. I was already awake when you dropped that plate in the kitchen,” I said, pointing to the plastic plate on the floor. Jackson bent over to pick it up and placed it in the sink.
“Good, though I’m not sure I like that you saw me in my clumsy moment. I’m usually a lot smoother.”
I nodded in agreement. It was hard not to see him as anything but smooth. “I like it, though.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It makes you seem more approachable.” More human and not this ideal thing I had built up in my head on the mystery that was Jackson Wright.
“Approachable?”
“Yup.”
“Hmmm,” was his reply. I could see him trying to hide his smile as he focused on the pizza in front of him.
So I decided to be brave then. Putting one foot in front of the other, I slowly walked over to him. Jackson saw my approach before I even got there and opened his arms out to me, making me feel confident. I picked up my pace, and before I knew, I was there, in his arms, burying my face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“You’re warm,” I commented.
“Are you cold? I can turn up the heat.”
I shook my head. “No, just stay like this with me, o
kay? Everything feels better when you’re around. Safer.”
“Safer? Do you always feel… unsafe?”
“Not anymore.” I didn’t explain any further. I let him take in my words any way he wanted to take them in.
After a moment or two, he pulled back slightly and said, “Are you hungry? We can eat in the living room, watch one of the movies I brought over, and snuggle?”
“Yes, please,” I agreed wholeheartedly.
He tightened his arms for a fraction before letting me go. “Grab the plates out of the cabinet, will you, Emily?” He nodded to the white cabinet to the left of where we stood. I walked over to it and grabbed the plates, waiting for him to cut the pizza into eight triangles.
Then we did exactly as he suggested. We watched a movie by the fire. Jackson pulled me down until I was sitting on his lap, and as I hold the plate of pizza, he fed us both with his hand.
It was to date, the best day of my life, despite what had happened earlier. And I had a feeling more would come my way, the more time I spent with Jackson.
That night was the first time I spent in Jackson’s arms.
When he asked me if I wanted to go home, I hesitated. I supposed that was enough of an answer, so he gave me an extra toothbrush in one of the guest bathrooms, and with some of his clothes, he gently pushed me into the bathroom.
I should have told him I needed to go home. But the thought of going back home to an empty house held no appeal.
And home didn’t include Jackson’s arms.
That meant I wasn’t safe.
So just for the night, I told myself it was okay. I could be selfish just for the night and laid down with Jackson wrapped around me, feeling the kind of invincible I knew he felt each and every single day.
After I was done with everything, I slowly made my way to the master bed. I knew he was in there, and that he was probably lying on the bed waiting for me. That he would welcome me in his arms, in his bed.
Even still.
That didn’t stop the self-doubt from clouding my mind, making my heart drop down to my toes.
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to walk on in, or knock on the door and wait for him to open it for me. I didn’t have to think about that for very long, considering just a few seconds later, the door opened and Jackson stood there, a small frown etched to his beautiful face.
“What are you doing, standing here?”
I bit the inside of cheeks. “I… well, I’m not exactly sure what to do?”
I wasn’t sure why I stated it as a question, only that I was hopelessly lost, looking to him for the answer. One side of his lips curved up in a small smile before he pulled me in quickly by the collar of my shirt, making it so that I stumbled right into his chest.
He didn’t give me a chance to recover. Carrying me up in his arms as if I weigh next to nothing, he brought me over to the large queen size bed and laid me down in the middle.
I looked at him, a little daze.
He wore a ratty old red shirt, the one that was obviously well loved because I could find at least six different holes in it, and plaid lounge pants that hung low on his hips, making me think things. Things I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
“I could have climbed up on the bed myself, you know,” I grumbled when I finally got out of drooling over him.
He grinned. Rather because he could read my face well and could tell why I was blushing, or maybe he found the sight of me on his bed amusing. I wasn’t sure which one I least rather have him think.
He climbed on the bed and kneeled down beside me. He bent down until his face nearly touched mine and whispered, “I know you can. But then I wouldn’t have the excuse to hold you.”
“You don’t need an excuse,” I said quietly.
“Good to know.” And then he kissed me. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of his kisses. Like each and every time, I could feel my heart racing, begging to be free from the confinements of my rib cage, just so it could climb into Jackson’s chest and stay there forever.
Surely, it was safer with him.
He let out a deep groaned which prompted a nice little rumble to come out of his chest. I placed both of my hands there, feeling his heart beat as fast as mine.
He kissed me like how I always imagined I should be kissed. With his lips pressed hard against mine, as if he couldn’t get close enough, with his hands on my waist, keeping me to him, almost as if he was afraid I might not be real. With the small bite of his teeth, driving me crazy in the best way possible. And his tongue?
My, oh my.
His tongue slid against my own, the soft, almost hesitant exploration of it in the beginning, until he grew confident in his movements, and the exploration turned into more of him revisiting some of his favorite places, and… and… and…
I was done for.
Lost to him, I could do nothing more than kiss him back as fiercely as he was kissing me. He had to know. Know how easy he was making for me to fall in love with him.
He should be scared out of his mind.
Because he should know that once I fall in love with him, there wasn’t a chance I could stop.
And that should terrify him.
Because it terrified me.
“Jackson,” I moaned out when he pulled away to suckled on the skin at my neck. He then moved his lips up and down giving little, quick kisses from my jaw to my collarbone.
“Every time with you feels amazing,” he said, removing his lips to look at me. His breathing was noticeably heavier. “I don’t want to stop. But we have to. Because if we go on, I won’t be able to stop myself, do you understand?”
Not really, but I nodded anyway, turning my face away so he couldn’t catch the disappointment on my face.
Of course, he caught on though. He cupped my cheek so that I was looking at him. “Later, when you’re ready, we won’t stop,” he promised.
“How do you know I’m not ready now?” I challenged, even as my hands shook from where they were, still clutching to his shirt.
“You’re not,” he said confidently. “And let’s not forget about what happened at school today. You’re feeling vulnerable right now, I understand. I won’t take advantage of that. I want you to always trust me.”
“I do,” I said without hesitation.
His eyes softened. “And I will do anything to make sure you always do. Okay?”
Nodding, I closed my eyes and pulled him in close. He let me do so, allowing me to push him on the bed until he was lying down. Jackson was three times my size, he could so easily overpower me. But he gave me all the control. Letting me do with him as I wished.
I got up and turned off the light before walking back over to the bed. Then I pulled the covers over us and laid down on his chest.
His arms automatically went around me.
“I wish I can spend every night like this with you,” I whispered.
“Me, too,” he responded.
We woke up early in the morning, and Jackson made us breakfast.
I could get used to this.
“Want me to pack us some lunch?” he asked, pulling the last strip of bacon from the pan.
“Yes, please.”
I watched as he moved around the kitchen, pulling ingredients out and putting together a turkey sandwich.
“Can we drive back to my house so that I can change for school?”
“Of course,” he answered, not looking away from the task at hand. “Anything else?”
“Did you get in trouble for fighting with Ethan yesterday?” I asked quietly. That prompted him to put down the cheese and walked over to me.
“Hey, you worry too much. I’m fine. The fight was done by the time any of the teachers caught wind of it. In fact, I don’t think they even saw Ethan limp out of there.”
“Limp?”
He shrugged but didn’t answer my question. Instead, he pointed to my plate of breakfast and said, “Eat up. We have to leave soon.”
“You should eat, too.�
�� Jackson hadn’t touched anything he cooked. He smiled at me when I forked up some scrambled eggs from my plate and brought them to his lips. He opened his mouth and let me feed it to him.
It went on like that until the plate was finished and Jackson went back to making our lunches.
I sat in the kitchen, watching him. He caught me a few times, but I didn’t look away. I didn’t want to hide from him. I wanted him to see how crazy he was making me, how happy.
And he seemed content, letting me watch.
He even put on a little show, turning on some generic pop music from his phone and dancing around the kitchen as he worked.
That only made me laugh so hard, I almost fell off the chair.
I helped him clean up the kitchen after and then we were off. It was barely seven in the morning when we got back, and judging by the empty driveway, I knew no one was home.
I invited Jackson in and let him wait in my living room as I rushed to my room and ready myself for school.
It took no more than fifteen minutes before I was done with everything, but by the time I came out, I could hear my dad’s truck pulling up the driveway. I looked to Jackson with wide eyes.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked coming up next to me.
“I can’t exactly ask you to hide,” I said softly. “He already saw your car parked out in the front. It doesn’t matter. I supposed you have to meet my dad, eventually.” I just didn’t think it would be so soon.
“Are you going to get in trouble?” he asked, his arms tightening around me as if by doing so, he could protect me from all that was bad in the world.
Silly boy.
“No. he doesn’t really care.” And that was true. My dad didn’t care. The reason why I didn’t want Jackson meeting my dad was because of that. I didn’t want Jackson to look at me with pity in his eyes because my dad sometimes forgot he had a daughter.
Jackson frowned. I could see the cogs turning in his mind. Before he could say anything more, the front door opened and my dad walked in with the mail carried under one arm, his coffee mug carried in one hand and his lunch box in the other.
Jackson's Girl: Being His Duology Page 10