by I. T. Lucas
Especially since he hadn’t done it with her.
Jackson was going to be a phenomenal lover, she just knew it, but couldn’t imagine how. Nothing in her past experiences had been about pleasure. It had been about pain and intimidation and control.
Tessa shook her head, banishing the dark thoughts from her head. This was the past. The future would be the exact opposite. “Did you get a new bed?”
Jackson smiled sheepishly. “It was an excuse. A way to buy myself time. You don’t need to tie me up to anything. I can keep my hands to myself. Besides, I can probably get free no matter what you tie me to. I can break the bed frame.”
Jackson was that much stronger than a human?
“How do you manage to be so gentle when you’re so strong?”
He shrugged. “The same way you hold an egg or a baby. You just know.”
Could she do it without him being tied up and at her mercy? Only one way to find out.
“Let’s go up to your room.”
Jackson swallowed. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“For what we talked about. Nothing more.”
When Jackson got up and offered her his hand, it wasn’t as steady as it usually was. Could he be nervous?
No way.
She followed him upstairs, her anxiety mixed with a tinge of arousal. It was hard to believe that she was actually going to do it. To touch a man of her own volition and perhaps even enjoy it.
As they entered his room, seeing Jackson’s sofa messy as usual made her relax. He hadn’t been expecting her to follow up right away. Otherwise he would’ve tidied up.
“Excuse me a moment.” He started collecting the various items of clothing strewn about the floor. When he was done, he bundled them all together and tossed them out into the hallway.
“You should at least put them in the laundry basket.”
“I don’t have one.” Jackson closed the door. “Out of sight will do.”
True. A messed up room was not conducive to a romantic atmosphere. Tessa walked over to the sofa, picked up the blanket, folded it, and draped it over its back.
Now what?
For a moment, they each remained rooted in their spots, unsure what to do next. She’d told Jackson that she wanted to be in charge, so she should act accordingly. Her timidity was one of the things she wanted to get rid of.
Tessa sat on the couch and waited for Jackson to join her. He sat close to her, but not so close that they were touching.
Now what to do? Should she kiss him first? Have him lie down and put his head on the pillow she’d fluffed?
Yeah, that would work.
“Could you lie down on the pillow and put your hands behind your neck?”
Jackson seemed relieved to be told what to do. “I’m yours to command, my lady.”
Tessa got up to give him room to sprawl, then when he pressed himself against the couch’s back, sat down and looked at the magnificent man at her mercy.
How the hell did she get so lucky? Jackson was gorgeous, smart, and kind. He could’ve had any girl he wanted, and yet he’d chosen her. A broken soul with issues from there to Timbuktu.
Perhaps there was something to the mate thing that Eva had talked about, and Tessa was Jackson's. Or maybe he liked a challenge. Or maybe he wanted to be the hero who saves the girl. Though in her case it wouldn’t be any dragon he’d be saving her from, just the demons in her head.
Chapter 44: Jackson
Tessa ogled him, making Jackson hard faster than the best porn flick he’d ever watched—including the kinky Japanese ones.
Perhaps the prolonged deprivation had done it, allowing one needy look to make him go from zero to sixty in a split second. Whatever it was, he couldn’t wait for her to put her hands on him.
She was taking too long, just watching him while nibbling her red tinted bottom lip. That new look of hers was growing on him. There was no mistaking her for a kid now.
Tessa was a woman.
But she was hesitant like a middle-schooler. He wasn’t allowed to touch her, but she’d said nothing about talking.
He could encourage her.
“Do you want to kiss me? Put those lipstick-covered lips of yours on mine?”
His words seemed to wake her from her trance. “Oh shit, I forgot all about it. I probably have lipstick all over my teeth.” She rubbed her finger over them, and sure enough, it came away red. “Ugh, gross. I need to wash it off.” She made a move to get up.
He almost broke protocol and grabbed her, remembering at the last moment to keep his hands under his head. “No, don’t. The lipstick is sexy. I want you to smear it all over my face.”
“Why?”
“Because when you look at me, you’ll know you did it—that you put your mark on me and made me yours.” Jackson had no idea whether what he was saying even made sense. He was shooting in all directions, trying to find the right words to make her loosen up.
A very faint scent of arousal reached his nostrils, hinting that he was on the right track.
Tessa put a hand on his chest and leaned forward. She kissed him lightly, only a feathery touch of her lips on his, then leaned back and looked at her work.
A giggle bubbled up, and she put a hand over her mouth.
“What?”
“You look like a clown. I want to wipe it off.” She tried to get up again.
Forgetting about keeping his hands behind his head, Jackson whipped his T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. “Here, use this.”
As her eyes landed on his bare chest, the scent of arousal flared, and Tessa swallowed audibly. “You must work out a lot,” she breathed.
“Not at all. Unless you count schlepping heavy amplifiers and Gordon’s drums to and from our gigs.”
She put her small hand back on his chest, the skin-to-skin sensation electrifying. “Are all immortal men naturally muscular?” Using his shirt, Tessa wiped the lipstick off his face with a gentle hand.
“Most are. But not all. Take Vlad for example. The dude is strong like a weightlifter but his muscles are invisible.”
Her eyes widened. “He is an immortal too? What about Gordon?”
“Yep.”
She wiped the lipstick off her own lips, much less gently than she’d wiped his, then dropped the T-shirt on the floor. “I think it’s ruined.”
“I don’t care. Come back here and kiss me, woman.”
Tessa smiled. “I want to do a little touching first.” She put both hands on his pectorals and began stroking his chest.
Jackson closed his eyes, willing his dick to behave. But it was no use. Even the thick denim couldn’t hide the bulge he’d sprouted.
Tessa’s hands kept going down, over his stomach and down to his sides. There was no way she didn’t glimpse what was going on south of there.
“Do you mind if I touch you here?” Tessa whispered with her hand hovering over his belt.
He was pretty sure she didn’t mean the belt. “You can touch me wherever you want.”
Her teeth closed over her lower lip again. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”
“You’re not going to.”
“But I can’t do more…”
He chuckled nervously. “Don’t worry about it. But there is a chance I’ll come as soon as you put your hand on me. It’s been a while. So if that is something that is going to gross you out or scare you, don’t.”
She shook her head. “When you’re like that, not moving, nothing about you scares me. There is purity in you. I can sense it.”
Wrong. But he wasn’t going to correct her while he was dying a little with every moment she delayed her touch.
A small smile bloomed on her lips. “The purity I’m talking about has nothing to do with your promiscuous past. It’s about your spirit.”
“Thank you, but right now I’m all about the body. If you’re going to touch me, do it.”
As her hand hovered lower, Jackson held his breath, the urge to grab it and force it down
so strong it was almost powerful enough to shatter his promise. But then she did it, her touch so light, he could barely feel it through the denim, and yet it was the most erotic thing ever. He groaned, and his head hit the pillow.
Encouraged, Tessa closed her fingers over the contour of his shaft and traced the outline from top to bottom. “You’re big.”
“Thank you?” He wasn’t sure. Normally it would’ve been a compliment, but maybe not from Tessa. Big could’ve meant no way am I ever letting that thing inside me.
“I guess you’re just proportionate all over. You’re so tall. Scoot.” She motioned for him to make room for her and stretched out on the couch beside him. Her face an inch away from his on the pillow, and her hand still on his crotch, she whispered, “Kiss me, Jackson. I think I’m ready.”
Chapter 45: Tessa
“You want me to kiss you? Like in me kissing you?”
Jackson's eyes were glowing, and when he opened his mouth to talk, she saw what he’d meant about fangs. His canines, which were normally slightly longer than average, had lengthened, making kissing him a bit scary. Maneuvering around these two sharp points posed a challenge she wasn’t sure she was up to.
Besides, something had changed inside her. The fear that had always been just below the surface receded, allowing her room to breathe and think without it coloring everything dark.
Perhaps it was the hope of a different future, in which Tessa, the small and weak girl, would become a powerful immortal. Or maybe it was the new look that implied confidence and assertiveness. As with a fake smile, what started as acting might have turned into actually feeling it. Or maybe it was Jackson.
She’d been seeing him for weeks, her trust in him growing with every day. She could let him kiss her and not freak out. In fact, she might even enjoy it.
Tessa had no doubt Jackson was a great kisser.
“Yes.” She smiled and cupped his cheek. “I trust you.”
With a look of reverence on his beautiful face, Jackson closed the tiny distance between them and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.
So far so good.
With the very tip of his tongue, he licked at the seam of her lips, and she parted them in invitation.
Here goes.
Tessa tensed as she waited for her fears to kick in as soon as Jackson’s tongue penetrated her mouth. But the way he did it, a gentle exploration and a hesitant slide against her tongue, didn’t feel like a penetration, it felt like a dance.
She moaned, both in pleasure and relief, her tongue meeting his in the slow dance of courtship. The kiss went on and on, and all through it Jackson’s hands remained tucked behind his back, while hers caressed every exposed surface of his muscular upper body. His chest, his abs, his back, his shoulders, his arms.
It felt wonderful.
“Can you hug me?” she asked when they came up for air.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
His arms went around her, but he held her loosely, probably afraid of spooking her.
Tessa wanted him to hold her tight against that amazing body of his and kiss her again. “Are you always so gentle and careful with girls?” She suspected he wasn’t, but then she couldn’t imagine Jackson getting rough either.
“Here, there is only you and me. No one else.”
He was right. She needed to rephrase her question. “If I didn’t have any hang-ups, how would you kiss me?”
“Do you want me to show you?”
His tone was husky with desire, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to let him take over and show her how a passionate kiss should be. More than that, she wanted the real Jackson, not a subdued version who tiptoed around her issues.
As her arousal intensified, her eyelids fluttered shut. “Yes.”
“Open your eyes, Tessa. You need to see me and know that you’re safe.”
She forced her lids up. “I’m ready.”
In slow motion, still careful not to startle her, Jackson pulled her under him. The difference in heights meant that to kiss her he had to slide his body lower, and his crotch was between her thighs but not touching hers. Braced on his forearms, he looked into her eyes. “Okay?”
She nodded.
He snaked one arm under her, his hand cupping the back of her head. “Still okay?”
“Yes.”
Lowering his chest, so he was fully on top of her, he cupped her cheek. “How about now?”
As his weight bore down on her, pressing her into the couch, Tessa had a moment of panic, but looking into the incredible, one-of-a-kind blue of his eyes helped banish it.
This was Jackson, and there was no one else in the world like him. He was unlike any man she’d ever met, and the difference between him and the monsters who’d hurt her was like the difference between a heavenly angel and the darkest demons from hell.
The difference between salvation and destruction.
“It’s perfect.” Tessa wrapped her arms around him. Holding on tight, she felt his tense muscles relax under her palms.
The kiss started the same as before, tentative and sweet, but as his tongue got bolder and his lips firmer, Tessa felt something she’d never felt before. It started with a tingle, an itch she tried to relieve by rubbing herself against Jackson’s hard abs.
Then came wetness. It trickled out of her, moistening her underwear.
Jackson lifted his head and gazed at her with wonder in his glowing eyes. “Oh, Tessa,” was all he said before dipping his head and kissing her again.
He knew.
Tightening her arms around him, Tessa felt tears pool in the corners of her eyes. She’d never gotten wet before, using lubricants to make the ordeal of penetration tolerable.
A thing that was so natural for most post-pubescent women was a breakthrough achievement for her at twenty-one.
She was normal.
The monsters hadn’t crippled her for life. She was getting better, and for the first time since forever, Tessa believed she could recover enough to have a normal life.
“Thank you,” she murmured into Jackson’s mouth.
He lifted his head. “No, thank you for giving me your trust. That’s the most precious gift anyone has ever given me.”
“You deserve so much more.”
He smiled, his elongated fangs not detracting from his angelic beauty in the slightest. Her fanged angel, that was what she was going to call him from now on.
“I’m immortal, Tessa, which means that time is not an issue. We can inch our way into it.”
“But it must be so hard for you.”
He rubbed his nose against hers. “Nothing worth having comes easy. Right?”
Chapter 46: Nathalie
“Ready?” Eva asked.
“Just a moment,” Nathalie called out from the bedroom. The high-heeled shoes she’d put on made her look slimmer, but they were not practical for the long day of shopping Eva and she had planned.
Phoenix was at Syssi and Kian’s, Andrew had agreed to take Fernando to the park, and Nathalie was free to spend the day with her mother, like she’d dreamed of doing for years. Everything was taken care of. She had nothing to worry about.
Checking her reflection in the mirror, she examined her profile critically. Her rounded belly wasn’t so bad. It had gone down significantly in the last two weeks, but she still had a long road ahead of her.
Sadly, though, she couldn’t hold a candle to her mom no matter what clothes she wore or what shoes were on her feet. Not only was Eva gorgeous, but she was always perfectly dressed and her hair and makeup done as if she’d just stepped out of a salon. Maybe today Nathalie would learn a trick or two from her perfectly put together mother.
For now, she had to do with flip flops, the most stretchy pair of pre-maternity jeans she owned, and a loose T-shirt. The fifteen-pound weight gain made her old wardrobe obsolete. But even if she managed to lose those pounds in the next few months, and the new clothes she was going to buy today wouldn’t fit, she’d just
call the talented seamstress who’d worked on her wedding gown to take them in.
“Flip flops?” Eva said as soon as Nathalie stepped into the living room, eyeing her choice of footwear with obvious disdain. “We are not going to the beach.”
Nathalie kissed her cheek. “I know. But heels would’ve killed my feet, and I didn’t want to wear sneakers. I know you hate those as well.”
Eva kissed her back. “We are going to fix that today.” She headed for the door and held it open for Nathalie. “As I told you years ago, sneakers are for the gym, flip flops are for the beach, and elegant flats or low-heeled shoes are for a long day of shopping.”
As they stepped into the elevator with its mirror-lined walls, there was no escaping looking at their reflection and making comparisons. She pulled her shoulders back and tried to imitate Eva’s regal posture. Chin up, a perfectly composed expression, and not a hint of vulnerability.
“How do you do it? Always looking so perfect?”
“A strict mother and years of practice. I couldn’t do schlumpy even if I wanted to.”
Interesting. Eva hadn’t talked much about her mother. “What was your mom like? You told me very little about her.” Since her grandmother had died before Nathalie was born, she’d never gotten used to calling her Grandma. All she had left of the woman were a few old photographs.
The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the garage level.
“She was a typical mother of her times. Women lived by different standards then, and she instilled in me the values that were important to her. The main one was to look and act like a lady, and the second to be a good Catholic. Not necessarily in that order. I think in her mind the two were one and the same.”
Eva clicked the remote and unlocked her car.
Her mother’s Prius was a nice, comfortable car, but Nathalie liked her new minivan better. She felt like the queen of the road, sitting up high and looking down at the sedans passing her by. Not that she’d gotten to do much driving lately. A trip to the local supermarket and back was the extent of it.