Jackson's Trust

Home > Other > Jackson's Trust > Page 16
Jackson's Trust Page 16

by Violet Duke


  That was perfectly rational reasoning…that Jackson barely comprehended.

  Because now all his simple, simple mind could hold in its one-track male capacity was the picture of pale lavender panties.

  In a shredded heap on the floor.

  “Do me a favor and come an hour late tomorrow, Mike.”

  “Already planned on it, sir.”

  Chapter 27

  Slipping into his loft, Jackson saw two things he was certain he’d never get tired of seeing. The first was Leila yelling like a mad woman at his big-screen TV, or rather at a ref on the TV who’d made a god-awful call after a particularly clutch play in one of the biggest NFL games in history. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he was dating a woman who not only knew just as much about football as he did, but who loved watching old games and all sorts of other football documentaries like he did.

  Coolest girlfriend ever.

  The second memorable sight in his apartment was that of Leila padding around his kitchen barefoot looking perfectly at home. Strangely, seeing her in one of his T-shirts was even more erotic than if she’d been walking around in a bikini. The idea that she might be completely naked under the T-shirt was enough to make him need to adjust his slacks.

  As if feeling his eyes attempting to x-ray the baggy tee, she glanced up from the stove and lit the whole place with a radiant smile. “Hey, welcome home.”

  Damn, he liked hearing her say that.

  Jackson slid in behind her and leaned in to press a kiss behind her ear, trailing his lips down her neck, quietly groaning when he discovered that while she was—alas—wearing a bra and panties, she didn’t have on any shorts, and her ponytail was still damp from a shower. The scent of fresh strawberries combined with the feel of warm skin was a dangerous combination. Despite his best efforts to behave himself, his hands still found their way under the hem of her T-shirt.

  From his vantage point peeking over her shoulder, he could see the immediate effect his touch was having on her nipples.

  He wasn’t sure what kind of paper-thin fabric her bra was made out of, but he was a fan. He made a mental note to ask Donovan to buy up some stock in this magical fabric for the good of mankind.

  Leila spun around and danced out of reach before he could see if her panties were also made out of the wondrous material. “Hands to yourself, Jackson. I promised you a home-cooked meal, and I’m going to make good on that.” Though her stubborn pout and stern voice sold the bit, her accelerated breathing and flushed skin told a different story.

  Jackson wanted nothing more than to see if he could kiss that pout off her face, and his shirt off her seductive little body, but it did look like she’d worked hard on dinner. “Fine. But I’m only behaving until dessert. And then all bets are off.” He pulled her in for a proper kiss hello before conceding and letting her get back to cooking. It really did smell incredible in the kitchen. “Is that a seafood chowder? Looks amazing.”

  “My grandmother’s recipe.” She beamed. “It was always my favorite. Whenever she used to make it, I’d refuse to eat anything else but the chowder for at least my next three meals.”

  “You two were really close, weren’t you?” He headed over to the wine rack, to see if he could find a bottle that would hopefully do the meal justice.

  “She’s the only one in my family who ever loved me unconditionally, and both accepted and celebrated who I was.” Gazing into the pot with a far-off look, she shook her head sadly. “If it hadn’t been for her, I honestly don’t know that I would’ve felt like I had any family growing up.” With a thoughtful look in his direction, she added, “She would’ve loved you, you know. I’m sure of it.”

  “If she’s half as great as she sounds, I’m sure I would’ve loved her too.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Switching the stove dial to low, she glanced over at the bottle of wine he’d finally settled on. “If Grams were here, she’d tell you to put that expensive stuff away and grab her a plain ol’ bottle of beer instead.” Smiling wistfully, she gave the bottle a resolute little pat. “So I’m going to channel her a bit and do the same.”

  Jackson grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Beer it is. Women after my own heart.” Grabbing two bottles of Guinness from the fridge after reshelving the wine, he joined her over at the dining room to help her set the table.

  Seeing the perfectly roasted chicken—his favorite—with all his favorite pan grilled veggies on a big serving platter, he whistled in appreciation, his expression a tiny bit sheepish. “I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had the chance to restock the kitchen in a while. I’m sorry, babe. You must’ve had to take multiple trips to the grocery store.”

  “Actually, Mike went out for me when I realized how few essentials you had.”

  He did a double take and then shook his head in wonder. “I’m seriously not paying that man enough.”

  “You’re telling me. A few things he’d picked up for me even though they weren’t on my list. Sure enough, I discovered I needed them; he knew basically all the ingredients in my recipes. As far as I can gather, he’s a security guard by day, and secret superchef by night.” Setting down a bowl of salad, she added confidently, “That guy is going to make some woman a very lucky wife one day.”

  Jackson knew it wasn’t rational, or remotely fair, but holy shit, did that one sentence make him jealous. Of course he’d experienced the emotion before in the past; he wasn’t a robot. But never to this degree, over someone he cared about as much as he did Leila.

  Seriously, now he understood why dogs marked their territory. He was feeling really friggin’ possessive right now, and truthfully, he was drawing a blank on how to quash the feeling.

  “You’re being quiet.” Leila studied him curiously. “Is everything okay?”

  Instead of answering, he pulled her in for another quick and hungry kiss. “Everything’s great. I’m just in awe that you made this amazing meal even after you worked all day,” he replied truthfully. “Can’t wait to dig in.”

  “Great. Let me just change out of this shirt and put some jeans on.”

  Worst idea ever. And he told her as much.

  She laughed and gave him a firm headshake. “There’s no way I’m sitting down to a dinner of my grandma’s recipes with my thong-covered butt on the chair, thank you very much. It was bad enough Mike saw me like this when he came back from the store.”

  Jackson felt that gut-burning jealousy rear its ugly head again. “You didn’t change before you let him in?” He somehow managed to keep his voice to a low, largely non-menacing rumble.

  Shrugging, she shook her head. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

  Well, of course not. What sane man would tell a woman to go put on more clothes just for shits and giggles? But before he could try his best to be mature about the situation—and/or get all alpha stupid and do something ridiculous like forbid her from wearing anything sexier than turtlenecks and sweatpants around Mike again—she was gone.

  Damn his giant loft apartment. He didn’t even know which direction she’d disappeared to.

  Her soft footsteps announced her return a moment later. “Mike knew I’d just started on a load of laundry while he was gone,” she explained, reappearing in a plain white top and jeans. “Since I don’t like wearing new clothes without washing them first.”

  Shit, Jackson felt like a prize asshole. He’d forgotten all about how Leila had been forced to go shopping for new clothes since the paparazzi had been swarming around her apartment. “Sorry you couldn’t get back to your place today, sweetheart. I should’ve foreseen that happening.”

  She shrugged. “No big deal.” A smile tipped her lips up at one impish corner. “Besides, it gave me a chance to buy some new panties.”

  Like the simple, predictable man he was, his eyes dropped down to her jeans, as if he could see the color of her panties through the denim. “Lavender?” he ask
ed in a hoarse voice.

  “You’ll find out after dinner,” she promised sweetly as she grabbed his hand and tugged him into the dining room ever so cheerfully. Like she hadn’t just lit a stick of dynamite with her passing comment.

  When he pulled out her chair at the table, he made an interesting discovery that instantly flung them back into combustible territory again. “When you say you bought new panties, did you mean just panties, sweetheart?”

  Her eyes danced mischievously. “You didn’t say anything about a bra this morning.”

  He groaned wholeheartedly. Criminy, did the temptress really think he’d be able to hold a conversation through dinner with her sitting there in a thin white tee with no bra on underneath?

  He sat down across from her and quickly took a big swig of beer to help take the edge off. “I’m going to get you back for that after dinner, sunshine.”

  She laughed softly, her now innocent expression an amused, wordless dare, as she reached over to pass him the salad bowl.

  —

  An hour later, Jackson was still praising her cooking.

  “Best meal I’ve had in a while. Hands down. In fact, I can guarantee you that if you want us to have any leftovers for lunch tomorrow, you may want to hide the containers in the back of the fridge. If not, Bennett will find it before we leave for work; the man has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to good food.” He finished setting the dishwasher just as Leila put away the last Tupperware in the fridge, and noticed her head was shaking in wonder.

  “What?” He gave her a puzzled look.

  “You’re just so…normal. How many multibillionaires do you know who take leftovers to work for a bagged lunch the next day?”

  He shrugged. “I like leftovers.” Pulling her into his arms, he nuzzled her neck. “Okay, as much as I want to talk more about your amazing cooking, I’m horny, and you’ve been driving me to distraction for months now. Since dinner is officially done, do I have your permission to misbehave?”

  “Just give me one more sec. I just need to label this container for Mike.”

  He watched her write “brussells sprouts and beet salad” on a Post-it and stick it onto the lid of a ceramic storage bowl.

  “Juuust in case Bennett gets here before Mike does.”

  Smart woman. “What’s really inside?”

  “Just some of the chowder we ate tonight. I promised Mike I’d save him some.”

  Jackson grit his teeth and felt the jealousy start to brew in him again. Again, rational or not, he just couldn’t seem to help it when it came to Leila.

  Completely oblivious to his silent green-eyed grousing, Leila turned and popped a quick kiss on his cheek. “There. All done. So…want to watch some TV? Maybe play some board games?” she teased as she backed up into the living room.

  He advanced on her, stalking her step for step.

  When she started fiddling with the pendant dangling from her necklace, his gaze followed.

  And a second later, so did his lips as he dragged her into his arms.

  Strange, he’d never seen the appeal of leaving a hickey on a woman before, but with all the talk about Mike, he was for damn sure feeling a primitive rush at the idea now.

  Spearing one hand in her hair, he gently tipped her head back to graze his lips along the smooth column of her throat some more, getting a little drunk off the taste of her petal-soft skin. Within seconds, the feel of her racing pulse beating under his tongue had a deep, possessive groan rattling out of his chest.

  Mostly out of curiosity, he laid a hot, open-mouthed kiss there, where her thrumming pulse was the strongest…before applying a mild suction that had her nipples hardening against his chest.

  Holy hell. Who knew vampire kisses could be this sexy?

  Eventually though, he came to his senses before he marred her skin. The last thing he wanted was some dumb hick at the station making a snide comment at her because he’d felt a need to mark her as a taken woman—his taken woman.

  While that single awesome thought did hold a heck of a lot of appeal, he still made himself remove his lips from her neck.

  “Good call.”

  He blinked in surprise over the two words that managed to break through the haze of possessive lust drifting all around him.

  Leila gave him a pointed—albeit very turned-on—look. “If you’d followed through and given me a hickey just now, I would’ve made sure to put one on you as well…somewhere that would’ve had you thinking about me all day tomorrow, through your board meetings and all.”

  He barked out an incredulous laugh, not even wanting to imagine what body part he would’ve woken up to find a hickey on.

  “Instead of essentially peeing all around me to mark your territory, you do know you could just have some hot, dirty memorable sex with me tonight so I’m physically unable to even notice another guy tomorrow, right?”

  God, he liked the way her mind worked. “You know, that does sound like it could be a rather effective alternative.”

  “It would be. That is, unless the guy in question is Mike. I’d notice him no matter what,” she said in a serious tone that would’ve had his back teeth grinding if he didn’t catch her devilish eye twinkle.

  She took off before Jackson could rumble out a growling response.

  Chapter 28

  Jackson raced after the hysterically laughing pixie as she sprinted upstairs, only to find that the tremendously thoughtful woman had left him few breadcrumbs in her wake, just in case he got lost along the way.

  First her ponytail holder. Then a thin white tee. And finally, a pair of jeans.

  Yep, this was way better than giving her a hickey…though admittedly, running with a hard-on guiding his way like a pervy pirate ship prow was a very weird experience.

  Chasing her into the bedroom, he came to a dead halt and felt all rational, irrational, and coherent thought flee his brain when he saw her with nothing but moonlight on her skin.

  And a tiny, nearly transparent triangle of lavender silk between her thighs.

  His eyes raked over every inch of her and then rose to hold her gaze. “You are so damn beautiful, sunshine. Every time I think I’ll be prepared for how gorgeous you are, how freaking pretty you are, you’ll do something—smile, strip, hell, breathe in a way that makes me think about having you in twenty different positions—and I’ll be unable to concentrate on anything else for days on end.”

  He made quick work of his clothes, not trusting himself to take even another step closer in the process, knowing he’d throw her on the nearest solid surface and be inside of her the second he unzipped his pants. Of course, seeing Leila’s naked appreciation, feeling her eyes on his every movement nearly had him losing it a few times before he was done.

  He had her flat on her back on the bed a second later.

  Heartbeat hammering in his ears, he slid his hands up her torso and let out a harsh, lust-filled breath when his palms grazed over her breasts and found her nipples were already hard. He raked his thumbs over the stiffened peaks as he laid soft kisses across her belly, reveling in her breathless whimpers as he kissed his way down her body.

  His own breathing was harsh and ragged by the time he steeled his restraint enough to brush a soft kiss over her wet, lavender-silk-covered core. Then the woman went and slid her legs open wider for him, efficiently crushing his grand plans to take things slow.

  A heartbeat later, his hips were rocking against her feminine heat, and his brain was flat-out short-circuiting as she began arching her body to match his movements, stroke for stroke.

  “Jesus Christ, Leila.” Even through her panties, he could feel she was dripping wet. It was all he could do just to slow down enough to voice a response. “You have to work with me here, baby. I’m trying to go slow, I really am. But if you keep that up, I’m going to be sinking inside you before I even get a condom on.”

  Her movements froze.

  But the pulse at her throat accelerated under his lips.

  Groan
ing, he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from following through with his warning.

  With heated, slightly glassy eyes widening to the size of saucers, she whispered, “I’ve never had sex without a condom before. Isn’t it too soon for us to do that?”

  He loved hearing her talk as though it were a foregone conclusion that her first time having sex without a condom would be with him. While he went to work on detangling all the emotions knotted up in his chest over her words, he snagged a hot, deep kiss to wordlessly thank her for her trust. “I’m clean, sweetheart. But you’re right, we don’t have to rush that. Besides, having a condom on for the first hundred or so times would probably be good for my stamina anyway, seeing as how just touching you has me questioning if I’ll be able to last longer than a few minutes.”

  She nodded mutely, but then hid her face against his neck before she quietly mumbled something else.

  “What was that, sweetheart?”

  Silence was her response for a few beats until finally, she sighed and said softly, “I…asked if you could do me a favor.”

  Though normally, he absolutely detested that exact sentence when it came from women—because it normally preceded a request for money. But here, with Leila, he was beyond confident that this wasn’t what was about to happen here. “Name it, sunshine, and I’ll do my best to deliver.”

  He could feel the heat of her blushing skin against his, and he somehow managed to grow even harder as he waited for her answer.

  “Can you…can I still feel you just a little before you put on the condom? While I still have my panties on, I mean? It’s just…I’ve been thinking about it all day. I know you had your fantasies about ripping them off with your teeth, but for some reason, all I’ve been able to think about since this morning was feeling the head of your shaft rub against me through my panties. And then feeling your finger slip my panties to the side so you could—”

  “Holy hell, Leila.”

  Cursing silently, Jackson had to shove his hips off hers for a few seconds to keep from blowing on the spot. It was a near thing.

 

‹ Prev