He nodded, a smile on his face. “I have to, otherwise I won’t see you until lunchtime, and that’s just torture.”
I laughed. “You saw me just this morning.”
“Exactly,” he murmured. “Torture.”
I was walking to lunch when a large shadow appeared in front of me, blocking my path. Startled, I looked up and found blue eyes trained on me. And it wasn’t nice.
“Jude,” I said quietly. I tried to walk around him, but he only ended up blocking my path. He made sure to crowd into my space, though we never touched.
I wanted to tell him to get away, and that his cologne was making me sick, because even the strong scent of it couldn’t cover up the ugly coming from him, but I lost my words.
I found it hard to move, much less say anything that might make him angry.
He stood there for several more seconds, until, with a secretive smile, walked around me. He made sure to leaned his body into mine a little that my shoulder touched his chest.
“See you around, Little Bird,” he breathed into my ear.
I stayed where I was at, unable to move. My feet felt like lead, and I was trembling. I knew I couldn’t walk into the lunchroom looking like this. Jackson would see right through me. So when I found my composure, I made a beeline to the bathroom and stayed there for a good five minutes until my heart rate went down.
Jude was trouble from the very start, I knew that. I just wasn’t sure how to deal with him on top of his venomous girlfriend.
Jackson drove me to his grandparent’s house after school. I didn’t have work, and I’d much rather spend my day and night with him.
I told him as much when we were at my locker, and with a smile, he took me out to his car. We’d been driving for twenty minutes already.
And I stared at him for the past fifteen minutes of it.
“What?” he asked.
I twiddled with my thumb, picking at the scape from when I pulled the hangnail off it just the day before. He stilled my movement by grabbing hold of one hand and placed it on his lap, his warm hand covering it.
“What is it, Emily?” he asked again, this time much softer.
“Do you want to talk about what happened this morning?”
His jaw tightened. “Not really.”
“But I think we should. I want to learn more about you, and I know nothing about your relationship with your parents beside that you’re not very close to them.”
“Do you want to talk to me about your dad? What about Jerimiah? We never got around to talking about why the man makes you so uncomfortable,” he snapped.
Startled, I tried to move my hand away, but his hold tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything.
He pulled into the driveway ten minutes later. I got out the car and walked to the front door, waiting for him to unlock it. He was dragging his feet, both of us a little unsure of what we could say.
As far as first fights went, ours was pretty tame, but the tension was there, and I just didn’t know what to do about it. When I fought with Ethan in the past, no matter how small the matter really was, it was always explosive.
I could deal with explosive. I could even deal with the hurtful things Ethan said to me because my heart had already built a wall around itself.
Except Jackson would never say anything mean or hurtful. No matter what happens, I knew he would always keep his emotions in check, but the silence was killing me.
I didn’t want him to pull away from me, and I didn’t want to pull away from him.
When Jackson finally got to the door, he pulled out the house key and unlocked it, pushing it open for me. Just as I was about to walk past him, he grabbed onto my elbow to keep me from going anywhere.
I looked questioningly at him.
Two seconds later, I was in his arms, his head buried in my neck. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice muffled. I could feel myself softening toward him.
I nodded. “You’re right. I never really talked about my dad with you. It doesn’t seem fair that I asked you to talk about your family with me.”
He pulled away a fraction. “Do you trust me, Emily?”
Again, I nodded. “Yes.”
“I trust you. I want to talk to you about my family. I just don’t really know how.”
I leaned up and kissed him. It took him a few seconds to respond to me, but then he was kissing me back, his hands moving toward my waist as he held me to him. “We can start with the little things. It might be easier.”
He flashed me a smile. “Yeah, I like the sound of that. Let’s get you inside. I can cook us dinner, and I’ll tell you, okay? If not all of it, I’ll tell you some. And I want to hear what you have to say also. But Emily, I want to talk about Jerimiah first.”
My smiled vanished. “Why do you want to talk about him?”
His hands around me tightened a little. “Because I know he makes you uncomfortable. And I want to know why? Please, baby. It’s important to me.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, not really sure how to answer. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell him. The problem was that I didn’t even know the answer myself.
Despite Jerimiah being there my whole life, I couldn’t account for a time when I felt safe around the man. It only got worse the older I got.
And telling Jackson that seemed silly, because I didn’t have anything to go on. “I don’t really know what to tell you,” I said finally.
Jackson’s eyes darkened with some unnamed emotion. “You can tell me what he’s done to make you feel like this.”
I shook my head. “He hasn’t done anything. I just… don’t like being around him.”
He looked at me, gauging my words. Then he gave a curt nod and led me inside the house, closing the front door behind him.
I went straight to the sofa in the living room, hugging my legs to my chest.
I could hear him rummaging through the kitchen, preparing us dinner. A part of me wanted to go to him, watch him cook like I had always done. A larger part of me felt safe where I was at, tucked in my own little corner of the world.
A half an hour later, Jackson walked into the living smelling of something sweet. He approached me slowly, and without saying a word, picked me up from where I sat, and walked upstairs.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He looked at me. “To the bedroom. I need to hold you, and you look like you need to be hold.”
I didn’t respond, but I could feel my lips trembling as I laid my head back on his chest, all the while, he carried me up the stairs.
He pushed the door gently opened with his leg and laid us down on the bed, his arms still wrapped around me, my head on his chest.
Jackson pulled the covers over us and played with my hair. It was nice, and I would have drifted off to sleep had he not spoke.
“I can’t think of a time when my dad and I have ever gotten along. It only got worse when my grandpa died.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Maybe because I was closer to my grandpa then I was to my dad. Maybe because we’re too alike, and our opinions always clash with each other. I’m not really sure. But it has always been like that. My parents… They were more interested in being people than they were in being parents. I guessed I’ve learned how to care for myself for so long, I resented them both for it.”
It was quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from his breathing and mine, in sync with one and another. I couldn’t account for my own heartbeat, however, not when I was too focused on his, but it felt in sync with his as well.
I broke the silence by saying, “My dad loves my mom so much, he doesn’t know what to do with himself because she’s gone.” A pause. “And I hate him for being so weak.”
I heard Jackson breath caught sharply, losing rhythm with my own. “Do you think that’s weak? Loving someone?”
I shook my head. “Love makes you strong.” I knew that. After all, I felt brave loving
Jackson. “But I think he loves her too much.”
“You think there is such a thing?”
“Of course.” When he didn’t say anything, I lifted my head and met his eyes. “You don’t agree?”
He tucked at the strand of blonde hair from my face. “I think I’m falling for you, Emily. And I don’t think there is such a thing as loving you too much.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I laid my head back down his chest, playing at the hem of his shirt.
“Tell me a lie, Emily,” Jackson said suddenly, gruffly.
I continued to tug at the hem, the back of my palms touching the bare skin on his stomach. I didn’t move my hands away, and he didn’t seem to mind. “I don’t love you.”
I said it because I really did.
I gave up on the pretense of playing with his shirt and moved my hands underneath. His skin was warm to touch, solid and strong. He tightened his arms around me, before leaning down and pressed a tender kiss on the top of my head.
“Will you kiss me, Jackson?” He made a move to lift me up when I stopped him, my palm pressed against his skin. “I mean, will you really kiss me?”
I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted to feel his lips pressed against mine without restraint. I craved the uninhibited, uncontrolled side of him. Something I didn’t see often.
He maneuvered us around, until I was on my back, with him on top. I spread my legs to accommodate his size and wrapped them around his hips, my hands moving up to his sides. Jackson looked down at me, his eyes alight with hunger.
Hunger for me.
I pulled him down, and then he kissed me. Our teeth clashed against each other in our frenzy, my hands gliding across his skin, feeling every strain of muscle each time he moved.
His tongue entered inside, demanding from me what I was already willing to give. There was no control in this kiss. Giving and taking from each other until all that was left was him and me and nothing more.
I tugged at his shirt, wanting it gone. He broke away long enough to help me pull it off, and then he was back on top of me, kissing me, while I explored the contours of his back.
I had never seen him shirtless before, and what I saw was enough to intensify the ache I’d been feeling between my thighs until it was the only things I could focus on.
I tightened my legs around him, bringing him in even closer to me than before until the most intimate part of him touched mine.
I wasn’t naïve. Inexperience, yes, but I knew exactly what I was doing when I moved my hips back and forth, eliciting a soft groan of pleasure from him.
“We need to stop,” Jackson said suddenly, his breath coming out in heavy pant.
I shook my head. “Not yet, Jackson. Please. Just, not yet. I… It hurts so bad, a-and I don’t know what to do. Don’t stop. Not yet.”
I wasn’t sure if I was making any sense, but I knew if we stopped, I would probably cry.
Jackson shushed me with his lips, before moving them to my jaw, my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there. “What do you want me to do, Emily?” Jackson asked softly. “It’s all up to you, just tell me.”
“I-I don’t really know.” I tightened my arms around him in frustration. Maybe I was naïve. How else could I feel so lost? Experiencing something I couldn’t even put a name to. Desire was too small a word to describe how I felt, not when the feeling was something I had never felt before.
Not even with Ethan.
He pulled us up until he was sitting and I was straddling his lap. I pressed my weight down and started to grow lightheaded. Jackson held me still with his hands on my hips before moving them to the hem of my shirt.
He looked at me cautiously. “If you don’t like what I’m doing, or if you feel I’m moving too fast, all you have to is say so and we’ll stop, okay?”
I nodded but made no move to stop him. I sat still as he lifted my shirt up and off of me, leaving me in nothing but a plain white bra and my jeans. So not sexy.
He moved closed to me, kissing where my shoulder and neck met, and whispered, “Relax. I got you.”
I nodded and relaxed my shoulders, closing my eyes as he sucked on the skin there. His hands moved to the small of my back, where he traced up and down my spine, sending goosebumps across my skin.
He moved one hand to the hook of my bra, and only after a moment of hesitation, unbuckled it.
The scanty material loosened around me, and then his hands were on the straps, pushing it down, until it fell between us.
He removed the bra and threw it somewhere on the bed, his eyes never once straying from my eyes.
I thought that took a lot of self-control on his part. He pressed us in together so that my chest touched his and the sensation was almost too much.
I moaned out loud, and that was his undoing as he pushed me back down to the mattress, cupping my breast in his large hand.
I grew desperate for his touch. I’d begged if only I could find my voice. I didn’t have to, though, not when Jackson could read me so well.
He laid me down back on the bed and moved his hands to the waistband of my jeans. He unbuttoned it while keeping his eyes on me, searching for any sign of distress. But I was far from it. I just needed him.
I squirmed a little when he pulled my jeans down, along with my panties until I was naked in front of Jackson for the first time. “So beautiful,” he whispered, moving his hands all over my body as if he was trying to memorize every part of me. “Is this okay?” he asked. I nodded. “I’m just going to touch, Emily. And I’ll stop if you want me to. Just say the word, okay?”
Another nod from me. He smiled, a gentle smile that told me I was under his care and that I could trust him not to break me.
He sat on his haunches beside me, spreading my legs out so that he could see all of me. I could feel my excitement the more time he spent looking at me the way he did, and when he traced a single finger down my skin, from my collarbone, heading south, I nearly jumped off the bed.
“Relax, baby,” he cooed.
I did as he asked, my eyes never leaving his as he drew circles around my belly button, and heading south still… and then…
He touched me.
His fingers moved up and down my opening and my thighs clenched.
His thumb found the bundle of nerves just above it, and he swirled around and around and around.
“Jackson,” I moaned out.
He entered a finger inside me, testing me out, making sure he wasn’t hurting me in any way. Only when my moans and gasps came out in desperate plea did he quicken his pace, making me lose control and no longer able to form coherent words.
I was building up again. I was sure he could feel me tremble, each bite of my fingernails on his skin, marking him in the only way I knew how.
I came in explosive colors. My world consisted of nothing but Jackson and how deep I had already fallen for him.
When everything came back into focus, I found Jackson lying down beside me, his arms wrapped around my body and the covers over us.
He thought of everything.
I turned to him and smiled, before snuggling in as close to him as I could possibly get and even then, it was not close enough.
I drifted off into a dreamless sleep shortly after that.
13
Past: Emily
When I woke up, the sun had set, and the smell of something delicious made my stomach grumble. Jackson must have left downstairs and finished cooking dinner at some point, but he was lying next to me now.
Even in the darkness, I could tell he was awake.
I was still naked, and though he was shirtless, I felt the lounge pants he wore pushing against my skin.
I was too shy to let him know I was awake, so instead, I laid there and thought about all we had done, making my heart beat faster and faster until I was sure he could hear it in the silence.
He turned over then so that he was facing me, his fingers tracing gently across my face, to my lips, my jaw, and lower to my n
eck, before he curved his palm around it. My pulse flitted beneath his touch.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said softly.
“Just fine?”
“Yes,” I replied.
He moved his hand down to mine and held onto it tightly. “Do you regret it?”
I shook my head. “Of course not.” Placing my hand on top of his, I turned so that I was lying on my side, facing him. “It was absolutely wonderful. I…”
“Yes?”
“I have never done anything like that before.”
He paused. “Never?”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see. “Never,” I whispered, my cheeks flaming.
“What about Ethan?”
My heart stuttered, my embarrassment becoming that much harder to ignore. I wasn’t sure why I brought it up in the first place, except I wanted him to know. “The physical aspect of our relationship never involve those kind of things.” It never felt good when Ethan and I fool around. Instead, it always left me feeling dirty and used afterward. It left me feeling defenseless against him each and every time, as far and few as those times may be.
“Then what kind of things does it involve?” he asked darkly. I opened my mouth to answer when he placed his thumb gently over my lips. “Actually, don’t tell me. I can guess.”
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. I mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
“He can’t hurt me anymore. I have you now,” I said confidently.
Jackson pulled me closer until his lips touched mine. He kissed me softly. “And I will make sure no one will ever hurt you again.”
I shook my head. “That’s just silly. You can’t be glued to my hips.”
“I would if only I could.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, sweetheart. Not for this. Not for taking care of you. It’s something I want to live my whole life doing.”
It was my turn to pause. “Your whole life?”
“My whole life.”
Jackson's Girl: Being His Duology Page 13