I can’t tear my eyes away the neatly trimmed hair covering his chiseled jaw or the faint pink heat staining his cheeks.
“Before I met you, I spent my entire life thinking that there was no such thing as a perfect woman. Like the idea that everyone has that one soul mate out there, I thought it was bullshit.”
Jackson clears his throat and averts his gaze. “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is, I wrote that off as a silly dream. A fantasy. Some Hollywood idea that no person in real life could ever measure up. Not until I met you.”
His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “I’d like to make a toast, to the woman who made that glittery Hollywood fantasy dull in comparison to her smile. To the woman who has an ability to make me want to fall at her feet and feel like I’m walking on a cloud at the same time. To the woman I love with my entire heart. Happy Birthday.” He smiles and my mouth drops open. Jackson clinks his glass against mine, and I go through the motion of taking a sip, but shock has set in.
Did he really? Did he just tell me he loves me?
“I love you too.” I take a step closer until we’re pressed close.
Jackson places his glass down on the counter and takes mine from my hand, putting it down beside it. He quickly slides his hands under my thighs and lifts me from the ground. His mouth finds mine and stifles my nervous giggle as he walks me back toward the counter and sits me on the edge.
He takes his time soaking me in from head to toe and then back up again as he steps between my legs and grinds against me. “I was wrong.” His voice is velvety and rich. “I do have a gift I can give you. Unfortunately I can’t wrap it, though.” His eyes dance under the light.
“Oh.” My breathing quickens. “And what’s that?”
“How about I show you?” His fingers thread through my hair and tug the locks, jerking my head back as he kisses a trail down my neck.
I moan softly, “Yes.”
32 | Jackson
I glide the heel of my hand up Ella’s thigh, letting my outstretched fingers graze the wet fabric of her panties. My fingertips brush over the damp spot and my cock throbs. “I need to fucking taste you.” I guide her back on the counter, my other hand still tangled in her hair, until she’s lying back on her elbows and I kneel until my mouth is hovering over her tight, sweet pussy.
I tug the pink triangle of fabric across her shaved pussy and hold it there as I lift up her hips so her plump ass is jiggling in the air, driving me wild as I dive my tongue in past her lips and lick a long, firm trail right up to her clit.
Ella whimpers and squirms in my hands as I roll the tip of my tongue over her sensitive nub. The way she’s biting her lip with her eyes squeezed almost shut, but still open enough that she can watch me eat her out makes me crazy.
“That’s right, you watch me,” I murmur and kiss the inside of her thigh. “I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you cum.” I lick a slow circle around her clit, teasing her before I flicker my tongue over her feverishly.
“Oh! Jackson!” Ella moans and her thighs quake.
“You taste so sweet.” Her cheeks flush at my compliment. “I’m going to swallow every drop of your nectar. I’m the only man who will ever make you cum, Ella. You’re mine. And those sweet juices are just for me.” I watch as she silently nods. “Say it,” I demand.
“I’m yours, Jackson. I’ll always be yours.” She grinds her pussy against my mouth.
“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” I smirk at how boldly she’s speaking with her body.
“Mmmm, I’m only naughty for you,” she purrs as she shimmies her hips and rubs her juices onto my lips.
“You want me to lick you, Ella? Tell me what you want,” I tease her, holding her tight in my grasp. She can’t move any closer to me. I won’t let her until she begs for it.
“Please.” The word is a statement. I can hear the ache of need in her voice as she watches me closely. “Please make me cum.” There’s an edge to her voice I’ve never heard before. A desperation to feel the magic of my tongue.
I open my lips, kissing her clit before I press my face into her pussy. Her juices cover my chin as I thrash my tongue over her clit. I watch her ass bounce as I hold her in the air and it makes me crazy. I take out all my pent-up desire on her little clit, twisting my tongue over it, contorting it and flickering it until Ella’s breathing turns into shallow pants and she rocks her hips toward me, moaning a long, sweet sigh of pleasure.
“Oh. My. God!” She explodes against my tongue and I lick her juices thirstily. Ella’s body quivers against me and she throws her head back, her long hair cascading down over the counter.
I gently release her hips from my iron grip, lowering her ass back down to the counter, and stand up. I love seeing what I can do to her, the way her face is twisted up with bliss as she writhes on the counter.
“Get over here.” I flip her onto her belly and quickly free my ready cock from my pants. I tug her panties down just past her full cheeks and guide my cock inside her, thrusting deep and hard until I’m buried to my balls, being squeezed tight by her walls.
“Uh!” she cries out and I hold her down against the counter as I fuck her from behind so hard our skin claps together, filling the kitchen with little slapping sounds.
“Do you like that? You want it rough, Ella?” My fingers dig into her shoulders as I press her flat against the counter so her ass is pushed up for me.
“Give it to me hard, Jackson. Make me yours.” She turns her head to the side and flattens her cheek.
I grab her arms and pin them behind her back in one hand, fucking her as she moans. I lick my thumb on my other hand and slide it between her thick cheeks, pressing it up against her asshole. Ella jumps with surprise, but her pussy clenches down against my cock even harder, making beads of sweat break out over my forehead as the tension builds inside me.
“Mmmm, you’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?” I push against her asshole until the tip of my thumb pushes past her body’s resistance and sinks inside.
“Oh!” she whimpers, but thrusts her ass back against me, pushing against my thumb and helping me bury it in her ass as I fuck her hard.
“Where do you want it?” I start to pull back, feeling myself reach the brink. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m going to cum.
“No, don’t pull out. Let me feel you. I want to feel your cum inside me. I want you to fill me up,” she begs in huffy breaths, grinding her ass back.
I can’t resist. I’m already too close. I push my thumb in her ass deep and fill her pussy completely as I sink my cock inside her. My orgasm washes over me, my cum spurting inside her in waves as she cries out and clenches down against me. Her asshole puckers and tightens around my thumb and her pussy milks my cock for every last drop of my seed as I lie against her, motionless except for the last jerking twitches of my cock inside her.
Breathing hard, I lean into her and kiss her shoulder, giving it a little nibble as I step back and my cock slips out. I gently pull my thumb free from her ass and Ella stands up, turning around to face me.
“Happy Birthday, Ella.” I smirk and a sparkle of delight dances in her eyes.
“That was an amazing gift.” She giggles. “Thank you.”
“Oh, that was only the first present. Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll give you your next gift in the shower.” I nod toward the door and we rush up the stairs together.
33 | Ella
A clatter of metal and Chloe’s giggles replace the usual sound of the alarm clock, waking me from my deep sleep.
“Shhh! Daddy, be careful,” I hear the sweet girl scold her father in a whisper that’s probably louder than her regular voice.
The other side of the bed is empty, surprising me that I didn’t hear Jackson get up this morning. Why didn’t he wake me up? Did he sneak out? Or did he wear me out so much last night that I overslept?
“I will be,” Jackson answers her. “Okay, you run up ahead and open the door. Oh, and, Chloe?”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Don’t forget to ask about the park, all right, hon?”
“You got it.”
I can hear the grin in her voice.
The knob on the bedroom door inches over and then slowly swings into the room as Chloe comes in dancing around excitedly. “She’s awake now, Daddy, come in!” she calls out to the hallway, her wild red hair flickering like flames in the streaks of sun spilling in the window.
“Here we go,” Jackson calls out and steps in the door as I sit up in bed with a smile that turns to total surprise.
“Happy Birthday. Ella!” They both say it at the same time as Jackson walks a red tray with a deluxe breakfast laid out on a plate. Pancakes, bacon, fresh strawberries and cream. It’s way too much for one person to eat, but it all looks so delicious I will give it my best shot. In a mug is a strong black coffee, just how I like it. The fragrant aroma of the rich coffee blends in with the sweet fruit and mingles in the air around us with the small bouquet of wildflowers set in a tiny vase of water on the edge of the tray.
“Do you like the flowers, Ella? I picked them all myself.” Chloe puffs up proudly.
I lift up the vase and inhale the perfume of the daisies, honeysuckles, and clover.
“They’re so beautiful, Chloe, almost as beautiful as you.” I can’t help but return her larger-than-life smile.
“She likes them.” She smiles up at her father gleefully and then starts to dance to a rhythmless song only she can hear.
“We wanted to do something special for you today.” Jackson watches his daughter for a second and chuckles. “I didn’t realize Chloe had a show for you too.” He laughs.
Realizing that all eyes are on her, his daughter sweeps her hands dramatically as she bounds across the bedroom floor, ending her dance in a dizzying twirl and a gracious curtsy.
“Bravo.” I clap and Jackson joins in. Chloe’s grin somehow managed to get just a bit bigger as she soaks in our praise.
“This is a beautiful birthday.” I smile at them. “But I’ve got to say, this is so much breakfast! I don’t think I can eat it all.”
“I can help you.” Chloe struggles to pull herself up the side of the bed, burying her face in the blankets as she tugs herself up with her arms. It looks awkward, but it works because before I have the chance to try to give her a hand, she’s already scooted up beside me in the bed.
“Would you like a piece of bacon?” I hold up a slice and she licks her lips.
“Yes, please.” She reaches out and I hand it to her.
“So, unfortunately I’ve been called into work this morning. I’ve got to head out in about an hour. I was wondering if you’d be able to take care of Chloe?” Jackson looks over at his little daughter, munching on a crispy strip of bacon.
“Of course. I’d love to.” I nod and cut into a pancake, loading up my fork with it and a slice of strawberry, and pop it into my mouth. My eyes roll back in my head as the flavor explodes on my tongue.
“Oh, uh, Daddy? Ella’s gonna take me to the park, right? That’s today?” Chloe tilts her head and furrows her fuzzy little brows.
“Um, well, that’s up to her. What do you think, Ella?” Jackson stands next to the bed, watching us like a painter putting the final brushstrokes on his masterpiece. The pride surging through him almost radiates from him like an aura.
“The park? Sure, I can take you.” I pick up another strawberry and hold it out. Her chubby little fingers pluck it from me and she stuffs the entire thing in her mouth.
“Fanks.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait for us to spend some time together today, Chloe. Just us girls. It’s a wonderful way to spend my birthday.” I look over at Jackson. “And thank you.” My tone grows more vulnerable, more fragile as the effort he put into this breakfast warms my heart. “For everything.”
“Anything to see you smile.” He leans back against the wall, resting his head back, and watches us with a wistful smile. It makes me wish we could photograph this moment. This point in time that I really became a part of their family.
34 | Ella
“Ella, how come that mommy at the park, the one with the black hair, how come she told her little boy to stop picking his nose?” Chloe skips alongside me as I lead her back to the house.
It’s incredible to finally go out around the neighborhood without feeling like I’m sneaking out or breaking some kind of rule that could ruin my life. The sun seems brighter, the sky more blue. Everything feels like it’s been washed in hot water and hung out to dry. The crisp colors of the world glide past us as we walk past the vibrant leaves that will soon drop from the trees.
I force myself to keep a straight face at her question. “Well, because it’s bad manners to pick your nose,” I explain.
“Yeah, but, Ella,” Chloe whines, “then I saw her! I saw that mommy pick her nose right after! Why would she tell that boy not to pick his nose and then she did it too?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t see her do that,” I admit.
“You know what? Adults are always like that.” She rolls her head and her long hair flops around. “They say ‘don’t talk with your mouth full’ and ‘don’t pick your nose’ and stuff like that! And then they do that too.”
“Really?” I bite the insides of my cheeks, trying not to laugh at the adorable four-year-old rant about adult hypocrisy.
“Really! They do! When I grow up, I’m gonna have three little girls.” She holds up her fingers just in case I’m not sure how many three is. “And I’m gonna say ‘pick your nose, that’s okay!’ and stuff like that ’cause it’s weird that adults do that.” She thrusts her hands on her hips indignantly.
“Sounds like you’ve got a good plan.” I smile.
“Mmm-hmm, oh look! A ladybug.” She stops next to a shrub and points at the red and black insect. The indignation she felt two seconds ago about nose picking seems to have floated away as her interest focuses on something new.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Oh, and we’re home. That one is my house. It’s your house too now, right?” She points to the simple two-storey home about a hundred feet away.
“Yes, I guess it is.” I think about her words. It’s my home. Our home. A peace I can’t remember ever feeling before washes over me as I realize that, after all these years, I finally have a home again.
“I’ll race ya to the door!” Chloe doesn’t give me a countdown or anything, just starts running down the sidewalk to her driveway.
“Hey, no fair!” I jog behind her, making sure she’s a couple short strides ahead of me.
Chloe’s giggles turn to unrestrained laughter as she makes it up the steps and slaps the palms of her hands against the door. “I won!” She cheers.
“Yep, you beat me fair and square.” I laugh and turn the handle, walking inside with her.
As we kick off our shoes in the front hall, I can hear whispers in the other room. I grip my hands on Chloe’s shoulders, pulling her against my legs protectively as I tilt my head and listen. “Hello?”
“Hey, come on in.”
My shoulders relax as Jackson’s voice fills the hallway.
Chloe grasps onto my hand and leads me to her father. We round the corner into the living room and I gasp.
“Happy Birthday!” Jackson and his mother yell as I blink in surprise at the transformed room.
“Wow, it’s so bee-you-tiful!” Chloe exclaims at the criss-cross of streamers twisted across the ceiling.
“You didn’t have to do this.” My eyes flicker from detail to detail. The bouquet of roses on the table, the balloons floating gently around the room, the beautiful cake covered in frosting shaped as flowers on the coffee table.
“Why not? You deserve a beautiful birthday, Ella.” Jackson walks over to me and slides his arms around my waist. “I know nothing could ever replace your quinceañera. I would never want to, but that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate you every year. I mean, what’s not to celebrate?” He gives me a quick k
iss and when I open my eyes I see his mother has her hands clasped over her heart while his daughter is sticking out her tongue in disgust.
“Thank you,” I murmur softly. Over his shoulder, I can see a couple of presents wrapped up at the edge of the table. “For everything. This is more than I ever dreamed of.”
“Can we have cake now? That looks yummy!” Chloe gets straight to the point and we all laugh at her no-nonsense attitude.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” Marie shakes her head. “First we sing Happy Birthday, remember?”
“Oh, right.” Chloe nods at her grandmother. She takes a huge breath and then bursts into song, singing in the loudest, most off-key tone I’ve ever heard and somehow belting out the sweetest version of Happy Birthday.
“Happy birthday, dear El-la, happy birthday to you!” They sing the last line and, as if on cue, a knock at the door makes all our heads turn.
I smirk up at Jackson. “Now what did you do? This is already enough!” I slide my hand out, pointing to all the decor.
“I didn’t do anything.” He frowns. “And I’m not expecting anyone.” He walks across the room and answers the front door.
I can hear a muffled exchange grow heated between Jackson and what sounds like a couple. Oh Lord, did Sylvia and Raymond track me down somehow? Panic grips my heart as the thought forms ice in my veins.
Suddenly Jackson’s voice gets loud as he yells at them, “Hey! You can’t just storm in here. Get the hell out!”
I watch with unblinking horror as he’s pushed back. I can’t imagine Sylvia and Raymond being strong enough to shove him around, not even if they both tried at the same time. Confusion whirls around me like a cyclone as what my eyes expect to see and what I actually see fight it out in my brain.
Bursting in past Jackson are two police officers, a male and female, both wearing jackets that say: ICE Police. I squint at the acronym and my heart drops out of my chest entirely.
Riding Lil' Red Hard Page 52