“Because...” Kelly looked around for help, but none was forthcoming.
“Please, Mom.” Then she turned to Jackson. “Would you want to live with us?”
“I’m willing to give it a try,” he said, “if your mother is.”
Of course Kelly wasn’t willing—and she didn’t believe that Jackson wanted to move out of his high-end downtown condo to a house in suburbia with an ex-lover and their twelve-year-old daughter. But he obviously didn’t want to disappoint their daughter, so he was going to make her do it.
“Mom?” Ava prompted.
And when Kelly looked at her daughter again, she found that she couldn’t. Because she knew that if she refused to let Jackson move in when he’d already said he was willing to do so, Ava would never forgive her. Kelly already felt guilty enough for depriving her daughter of her father for so many years, and she really didn’t want to stand in the way of their developing relationship now. She really didn’t want to live under the same roof with Jackson, either but how could she worry about protecting her own heart when her daughter’s was so vulnerable and needy? And what Ava really needed right now was her father.
“I guess we can give it a try,” she finally relented.
Ava rushed over and hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.” Then her attention shifted to her father again. “When can you move in?”
“I’ll pack some things tomorrow,” he promised.
It was a prospect that didn’t help Kelly sleep that night. And by the time she’d cleared up breakfast dishes and dropped Ava off at Laurel’s house the next day, she’d had second and third thoughts about her decision.
* * *
“Please tell me you’re not actually packing,” Kelly said, when Jack responded to her knock on his door just before noon on Sunday.
“I’m not actually packing,” he said obediently.
She exhaled, so visibly relieved he nearly smiled. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”
“I didn’t know I’d lost them—and I only said that I wasn’t packing because that’s what you told me to say.”
She frowned at that.
“You told Ava that you were willing to give it a shot,” he reminded her, stepping away from the door so that she could enter.
She huffed out an exasperated breath as she followed him into the foyer. “Because my back was against the wall. But the more I think about it, the more I know this won’t work. It’s an impossible situation.”
“Actually, it’s not just possible but practical.”
She shook her head. “I’m asking you to take the lead here and to tell Ava that you’ve reconsidered.”
“But I haven’t reconsidered,” he said mildly.
“Well, you should. Because the two of us living under the same roof is a bad idea.”
He shifted closer, deliberately invading her space. “Afraid you won’t be able to withstand the temptation?”
She held her ground and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “I promise you, Jacks, I’m not the least bit tempted—except maybe to slap you for being such an arrogant ass.”
“I don’t think you’d be so angry if you didn’t still have feelings for me.”
“I didn’t come here to feed into your delusions but to try to talk you out of this crazy plan. If that’s not possible, we need to at least set some ground rules.”
Her prim attitude and cool demeanor tempted him to ruffle her feathers, but her statement also piqued his curiosity. “What kind of ground rules?”
She crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture so similar to their daughter’s that he nearly smiled. But then he noticed that the movement pushed her breasts together, enhancing his view of the cleavage visible down the V-neckline of her top. He caught a glimpse of the scalloped edging on the cup of her bra, silky peach-colored lace against satiny pale skin. There were five more buttons down the front of her top, round pearl-like buttons that he could have unfastened in about three seconds. Maybe less.
The possibility was tempting...and incredibly arousing. His response to her was baffling, but undeniable. And while he wanted to believe it was purely physical, because sexual attraction was something he understood, he worried that his feelings for her were deeper and more complex than he was willing to acknowledge.
“First, I want a two-week trial, and I want you to tell Ava that we agreed to a two-week trial.”
“Three weeks,” he countered.
“Fine. Three weeks,” she relented. “Second—but most importantly—you’re not bringing women to the house.”
It took a moment for her words to register, and when they did, he felt as if he’d had a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He lifted his gaze from the tempting view of her cleavage to her golden eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not kidding,” she snapped. “I don’t want a series of your girlfriends in and out of my daughter’s life.”
“For God’s sake, Kelly. I wasn’t talking about your so-called rule, but the fact that you actually thought you had to spell it out to me.”
“I might have been gone more than a dozen years, but I haven’t forgotten your reputation, Jack.”
“I’m not the same man I was then.”
“I’m sure the blonde in the red dress would beg to differ.”
He gritted his teeth. “I told you that she was a client.”
“Well, I’d appreciate it if you entertained your ‘clients’ away from my home,” she said stiffly. And then she continued, almost apologetically, “I’m not trying to interfere with your social life. I’m just asking you to ensure that my daughter isn’t a witness to the parade of women through your life.”
“Our daughter,” he reminded her.
“Our daughter,” she agreed.
“Can I say something now?”
She eyed him warily. “What’s that?”
“Instead of worrying about nonexistent parades of women, you should think about the fact that I haven’t wanted any other woman since I saw you at the airport more than four weeks ago.” He shifted closer. “But I definitely want you.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she’d never been the type to back down, and she didn’t do so now. Instead, she lifted her chin. “No doubt that’s because I’m the only woman in town you haven’t slept with at least once in the past decade.”
* * *
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kelly wished she could take them back. The intense focus of the gaze Jackson narrowed on her warned that it was already too late. She’d waved the red cape in front of an angry bull. He took a step closer, so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, the frustration rising in waves around him.
Yeah, he was angry. But there was something else in the predatory gleam in his eyes, something that looked a lot like arousal. And—heaven help her—his nearness was definitely stirring her up inside.
“It’s been a long time,” he acknowledged, and though his tone was casual, his gaze was heated, hungry. “But I can still remember how soft your skin felt beneath my hands, how you trembled when I touched you, how you came apart when I was buried deep inside you.”
Her knees were trembling now, but she refused to let him know it. She dropped her arms, her hands reaching behind her to grip the edge of the table at her back. “I’m not the same naive girl I was back then.”
He dipped his head, so that his lips were close to her ear. “And I’m not the same boy who couldn’t think of anything but getting into your pants. What is the same is the desire—I want you just as much as I wanted you back then. Maybe even more.”
She knew what he meant. The attraction she’d felt at twenty-one was nothing like the torrent of need raging inside of her now. And when his tongue traced the outer shell of her ear, the slow, sensuous glide turned her bones to jelly and ma
de everything inside her quiver. But she also knew that succumbing to the want that pulsed through her every vein would be a mistake. And she’d already made enough of those where Jackson was concerned.
His breath was warm on her cheek as his teeth tugged gently on her lobe. He’d barely touched her, but her entire body was suddenly hot and achy. She felt tingles in her breasts, between her thighs. She put her hand up, against his chest, and felt his heart thud wildly against her palm. But instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
His lips skimmed across her jaw. “This is why you really came here, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “I came here to talk.”
“Tell me you don’t want me.”
She closed her eyes, bit hard on her lip to hold back the moan when his mouth moved down her throat. “I don’t want you.”
But it was a lie, and they both knew it.
And when his lips touched the frantically beating pulse point below her ear, she shivered.
“I don’t want to want you,” she clarified.
He’d already made quick work of the buttons running down the front of her blouse, and he dipped his head lower, his tongue delving in the hollow between her breasts.
Inside the lacy cups of her bra, her nipples pebbled, aching for his touch. She closed her eyes against the sting of tears. Dammit, she did not want this. Because she knew that getting naked with Jackson would be a mistake for so many reasons. But right now, she couldn’t think of a single one of those reasons. She couldn’t seem to focus on what was smart or reasonable. She couldn’t think at all, but she instinctively knew that this was what she needed. He was what she needed.
She pulled his head down, nibbled on his bottom lip. He had a fabulous mouth. Lush and tasty, and incredibly talented. And his hands—oh, those hands were moving over her now, teasing and tempting, making her burn everywhere they touched.
She tore her mouth from his to say, “This doesn’t change anything, Jacks.”
“I’m not trying to change a thing,” he assured her, then cupped her buttocks to lift her up against him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbed herself wantonly against the hard press of his denim as he carted her down the hall. “You have to know this is a bad idea.”
“I can’t think of a worse one,” he agreed, then kicked open the door of his bedroom and tumbled with her onto the bed.
Chapter Ten
He tugged off her blouse and tossed it toward the floor. Kelly yanked his shirt out of his pants and slid her hands beneath the hem. The taut muscles of his abdomen quivered as she ran her palms from his belly to his chest, reveling in the warmth and strength beneath her fingertips.
He straddled her hips and unfastened the center clasp of her bra. As he pushed the lacy cups aside, Kelly felt everything inside of her clench in anticipation. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over one already taut nipple, then the other, and a low moan sounded deep in her throat.
While his lips nibbled teasingly at her breasts, his hands moved lower. He slid her skirt up and her panties down, and then his hand was between her legs, those clever fingers dipping into the slick folds. This time it was Jackson who groaned, a sound of pure male appreciation. “You’re so wet...and ready.”
She could only nod as his thumb moved over her most sensitive flesh and everything inside of her began to tighten.
The first time she’d been with Jackson, he’d simply and completely overwhelmed her. He’d instinctively known how and where to touch her, and he’d driven her to distraction with his hands and his lips and his body. No other man’s touch had ever affected her the same way. No one else had ever made her want the way she wanted Jackson, and no one else had ever satisfied her so completely.
Now there was no denying that she wanted. And while his fingers continued to work their magic between her thighs, he fastened his mouth over her breast and suckled her nipple, hard. She cried out as fiery spears of desire shot through her system, arrowing toward her center. There was so much sensation, so much pleasure—and still there was more. He continued to touch and taste and tease, until it was finally...too much. And she shattered.
But despite the waves of pleasure that washed over her, she still felt empty, aching for him. “Please...”
“Tell me what you want,” he commanded.
“You.” She opened her eyes. “I want you, Jacks.”
He pulled away only long enough to shed the rest of his clothes. Then he was stretched out on top of her, his naked body against hers, and it felt so gloriously wonderful.
There was still a small part of her rational brain trying to warn that they were approaching the point of no return, but the quiet logic was drowned out by the clamoring demands of her hormones.
He reached into the bedside table for a foil packet and quickly sheathed himself. Then he lifted her hips off of the bed and buried himself inside of her in one hard, deep thrust.
She cried out at the shock—and pleasure—of the invasion, as new waves of sensation began to ripple through her. He began to move, slow and steady at first, giving her a chance to catch her breath. But she didn’t want to breathe; she only wanted to feel. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deep, deeper, inside.
Her head fell back against the pillow, but she didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes again until he said, “Look at me, Kelly.”
She didn’t want to—she didn’t want to experience the intimacy of that visual connection. But in that moment, she couldn’t deny him anything he asked. And when she opened her eyes, she found his locked on her.
“You are so...unbelievably...beautiful.”
“Jacks...” She didn’t know what else to say. This wasn’t supposed to be some emotional bonding moment, it was supposed to be sex. Raw and primal and more powerful than anything else she’d ever known.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to expect her to say anything more. Instead, he captured her mouth in a long, slow, deep kiss that made her blood pulse and her heart ache. As the tension built inside of her again, past and present tangled together so that she didn’t know which was real. But it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except that she was in his arms—exactly where she wanted to be. And they plunged into the abyss of pleasure together.
* * *
It was absolutely, undeniably the most incredible sexual experience of her life. And he was absolutely, undeniably the last man on the face of the earth that she wanted to share it with.
What was wrong with her that she was still attracted to the man who had once broken her heart into a gazillion jagged little pieces?
She’d dated other men—not a lot, but a few—who were smart and funny and kind. But she’d never felt the same overpowering desire for any one of them that she felt for Jackson Garrett.
No one had ever touched her the way he touched her. No one had ever made her feel the way he made her feel. And no one had broken her heart as carelessly and completely as he’d done. And she wasn’t going to let that happen again.
Feigning a nonchalance she wasn’t anywhere close to feeling, she pushed herself off of the bed and began to gather her clothes. She’d thought—hoped—Jackson was sleeping, but the rustle of sheets as he sat up in bed proved otherwise.
“What are you doing?” His voice was quiet and controlled, but there was just a hint of frustration around the edges.
She didn’t—couldn’t—look at him. “I’m leaving.”
“Sneaking out?” he taunted.
“No, I just have to go.”
“Don’t you think we should talk about this?”
“No,” she said again, and focused on fastening the buttons of her blouse. “I absolutely do not want to talk about it.”
“What do you want to do—act like it ne
ver happened?”
She tugged the hem of her skirt and stepped into her shoes. “It never should have happened.”
“It was inevitable.” He was out of bed now, too, and tugging on his jeans.
She shook her head. “I don’t do things like this.”
“I’d say our twelve-year-old daughter is proof to the contrary.”
“Correction,” she said coolly. “I’ve done something like this exactly twice in my lifetime.”
“And both times with me? I’m flattered.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You’re a bastard.”
“Actually, my parents were married.” He tugged his shirt on over his head. “Maybe that’s something we should consider.”
He said it as casually as if he were suggesting a restaurant for dinner. She responded with a blunt and simple, “No.”
“Ava told me she’s always wanted a real family.”
And Kelly had always wished, more than anything, that she could give her daughter what she wanted. But it wasn’t going to happen like this. “And I’ve always wanted to win the lottery.”
He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”
His casual dismissal was as insulting as his offhand proposal and not even worthy of a reply. She simply stalked out of the room.
* * *
It amazed Jack that Kelly always seemed so cool and composed—except in the bedroom. There, she was all fire and passion, eager to give and to take, to please and be pleased. She was his most erotic fantasy and his biggest weakness.
He’d wanted a lot of women, and he’d had a lot of women. But he’d never needed anyone—except for Kelly. And he didn’t like the feeling. He wasn’t comfortable with the desperate gnawing in his belly. When he was with her, it was as if he needed to touch her more than he needed to breathe.
He was a man who liked to be in control, and he was never in control around Kelly Cooper. That one weekend in Chicago had made the point clear to him, and even when he’d left the city, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.
His reconciliation with Sara had been the desperate act of a desperate man, and an unsuccessful one at that. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. This time, he wasn’t going to let Kelly go.
His Long-Lost Family Page 14