“You thought wrong.”
“I’m the only family that you’ve got.”
“No, I don’t have any family.”
“Do you get off on hurting my feelings?”
“I rarely think about you, let alone worry about your feelings. I thought I told you to stop trying to force yourself in my life.”
“I guess I just thought maybe for one day…” Her gaze travels locking on something over my shoulder, and I know it’s Sage. Something flashes over her features that I can’t distinguish. “Well, who do we have here?”
I look over my shoulder. Sage is standing off to the side looking unsure of herself. I hold out my hand to her, and she instantly moves, taking my outstretched hand and moving into my side.
“This is Sage, my girlfriend.” I make sure to emphasize the girlfriend part, knowing that any indication of me being happy will leave a sour taste in her mouth. “Sage, this is Camille.”
“His mother,” she adds, sizing Sage up from head to toe.
“Of course, it’s so nice to meet you.” Sage reaches out, extending her hand to my mother, and my entire body goes rigid. Just the thought of my mother having anything to do with her rubs me the wrong way. She smirks when she grabs Sage’s hand and gives it a shake.
“Nice to meet you, too, dear.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence now, the three of us standing there saying nothing. I don’t want to be a dick and throw her out in front of Sage. She’s already seen the asshole side of me, and I’m trying my damnedest to tone that shit down for her, but my mother is undeserving of my kindness.
“Well.” Her eyes come back to me. “I see that you’re busy so…”
“We were just having dinner. Would you like to join us?” I roll my eyes at Sage’s invitation. We’re going to have to have a chat about her being a little too nice. My mother beams at Sage, and I get the urge to wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“It’s not an intrusion. We have plenty of food, right, Jackson?” She looks up at me completely doe-eyed and innocent, and the block of ice around my heart melts just a little more.
“Right,” I mutter under my breath and fight the urge to roll my eyes again. “Come on in. Sage made a feast.
“Oh, thank you, Jack.” She practically knocks me over to get inside. I keep hold of Sage and lead her into the dining room. I squeeze her hand and lean into her.
“We’re going to have a conversation about your kindness later. I may have to put you over my knee.”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, and I can swear I see a hint of fear in them. I don’t like it; I don’t like the idea of her being afraid of me. It reminds me of our first time together—a night that I still feel guilty about.
Sage releases my hand when we reach the dining room. “I’ll get an extra place setting.”
“Sit. I’ll do it.” I motion for her to take her seat and go get an extra place setting, silently cursing to myself the whole time. Thanksgiving with my mother in attendance is the last thing I’d ever want. I set her place and take my seat at the end of the table, praying that my mother doesn’t do or say anything to make me kill her.
“So, Sage. It is Sage, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How quaint. How long have you and my son been dating?”
“Why does it matter to you?” I scowl at her, not liking the way she used the word quaint where Sage is concerned. It was her passive aggressive way of getting a dig in there.
“Relax, Jack. I’m just trying to get to know your girlfriend.”
“It’s Jackson.”
She rolls her eyes at me, and I literally have to grip the chair in order to stop myself from getting up and tossing her out. Sage senses my anger and places a hand on my knee. It’s her sweet way of comforting me, of letting me know that she’s there.
“I couldn’t help but notice an accent, dear. Where are you from?”
“Originally from Indiana,” Sage answers politely but she looks at me. She knows that my mother is putting her down in her own way.
“Farm country! How lovely.”
“Camille,” I growl.
“Oh, Jackson, relax. You’re always so sensitive.”
“I’m sensitive? You have some fucking nerve lady.”
Sage looks between us with a stunned look on her face. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Of course it is. You invited me in yourself.”
Sage stands up, eyes on my mother, and she looks pissed. I’ve seen her angry and I think I might thoroughly enjoy it if she goes head to head with my mother, but I stand, too, just in case. “Yes, well, I’m afraid that maybe it wasn’t my invitation to extend. I think you should leave.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Like hell I can’t. I invited you in, and I can kick you out.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“I’m someone who’s not going to let you come into her boyfriend’s house and be rude to him or me.”
“Jack.”
“You heard her, Mother. I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“I see how it is; you take this little tramp’s side over mine.”
I come around the table, grab her by the arm, and pull her out of her chair. “Do not EVER speak about her like that,” I snarl, fully enraged by her audacity. I drag her to the front door, Sage hot on my tail, and within seconds, I’ve shoved her out the door.
“It was lovely to meet you.” This comes from Sage, along with a sarcastic tone and a sugary sweet smile. I swear to God if I didn’t love the girl before, I do now.
“How dare you treat me this way.” Her glare matches my own. I guess I know where I get my looks from.
“I suggest you leave and don’t come back.” I begin to slam the door in her face, before I leave her with one parting blow. “I suggest you figure out your job situation immediately, Mother, because as of January first, I’m cutting you off.”
“Jackson,” she cries, but it’s too late. I’ve shut her out, shut the door literally and figuratively on my relationship with my mother.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. That was all my fault.”
“Say that again.”
“Huh?”
“What you just said, say it again.”
“I said that it was all my fault.”
“Before that,” I coax her with a grin.
“Baby?”
“Yes, that. Say that again.” I grab her hips; her hands are on my shoulders.
“Baby.” I lift her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around my waist.
“I like that,” I whisper in her ear, placing a kiss on her cheek as I carry her into my office. I don’t want to wait till we get upstairs.
“What about dinner?” she asks as I toss her on the oversized couch.
“We’ll microwave it. It’ll be great.”
She giggles but grabs hold of my shirt, pulls me down to her and with one kiss, erases the last miserable half hour of my life.
***
We’re in my bed; Sage rests her head on my chest, her brown hair fanned out as I run my fingers through it. We eventually went back to dinner after working up our appetites during the little escapade in my office. I managed to answer a few emails while Sage cleared out dinner and put everything away. She tried to leave after she was done, likely worried about outstaying her welcome. I put an end to that by dragging her into the shower, soaping her up and fucking the shit out of her before collapsing into our current position.
“I’m sorry about tonight.” Her soft voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“What do you have to be sorry about?”
“I should have never invited your mother in. I’m sorry. I thought it was the polite thing to do, but it wasn’t any of my business. I should have known better.”
“You didn’t know what a fucking lunatic my mother was. It was sweet of you to try.”
“Why do
you two hate each other so much?”
I let out a sigh, not really wanting to talk about this, but figure I’ll give her the highlights. “My mother left us when I was young. She decided one day that she didn’t want to be a mother or a wife anymore. We weren’t enough for her; she wanted more. She felt my father could do more, make more money so that she could live a more lavish lifestyle. She left with a man who was richer and more powerful than my father. She told me when she left that she would be in touch with me, but she never called.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and I got my payback.”
“How did you do that?”
“I took what mattered most to them, their money. She left her family for this man because he could give her more. He knew that she had a family, a son, and he didn’t care, he did it anyway.”
“What did you do?”
“I stole his company right from under him and left them both with nothing. My mother depends on my generosity to get by, which is no longer an option for her after tonight.”
“What did you do with the company; tear it apart and sell it off?”
“No, baby, that’s not what I do. I took it away from him and ran it myself. I still own it. It’s a reminder of my victory.”
“It must have felt good.”
“It felt amazing. I know it shouldn’t have felt that good, I know that I should be remorseful for doing what I did, but they fucking deserved it. And if that makes me a bad person, then so be it.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human. What she did to you was unimaginable. I honestly can’t even believe that you’ve supported her this long.”
“I like knowing that she needs me, that anytime she needs something she has to swallow her pride and come to me.”
“I get it. I was a constant disappointment to my mom. Nothing I did was ever good enough, and believe me, I spent the majority of my life trying to please her. I could go end world hunger tomorrow, and she wouldn’t give a shit.”
“It’s her loss.”
“I know, but as a child, you never stop seeking your parents’ approval. You never stop wanting to hear them praise you and tell them that they love you.”
I hold onto her a little tighter. I want her to know that I’m here for her, and that her mother’s rejection was unwarranted.
“Tell me about your dad.”
“My dad was too nice. He was too good for her; he was too gentle. My mother walked all over him, and he was too weak to stop her. But he loved her, Sage, he loved her so much it was almost pathetic. It was sad. And when she left him, she took the best of him. He couldn’t function in the world without her, couldn’t be the father he wanted to be.”
“Jackson.”
“He managed to work, and thankfully, his business didn’t suffer too badly, but that was all he had time for. That was all he could focus on. I think he threw himself into work to avoid feeling the pain, to avoid me, because I was a constant reminder of what he’d lost. Eventually, he sent me away to school so he wouldn’t have to deal with me at all. By the time he passed away, our relationship was not as strained. It’s not like I ever hated him, I just knew that I could never be like him.
“You asked me why I didn’t go back to Indiana when everything fell apart for me here.”
“I remember.”
“My mom was the least of my worries, my brother Adam is a preacher, which I always found to be hilarious since he is the most judgmental person I’ve ever met in my life. He didn’t agree with my choices in life so he pretty much disowned me.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
She tilts her head up to look at me and smiles.
“He is. My father, though, he’s the worst of them all. I moved into this tiny little studio apartment when I was twenty, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with him smacking me around anymore.”
My entire body tenses up, and I have the overwhelming urge to murder someone. I try to mask my anger and replace it instead with sympathy for my poor, broken girl. It’s no wonder she ended up making the choices she made without anyone to turn to for support.
“Did he hit you often?”
“Yeah, and what made it all worse is that he only really ever hit me. He never wanted a daughter. Adam was his pride and joy, and my mom was the love of his life. I was just unwanted, and I think that created the tension in my house. He didn’t approve of me, so no one else did, either. My mom didn’t protect me, my brother didn’t love me, and it was all because of how my father felt about me.”
“I can see why you didn’t want to go back to that.”
“The funny part is my mom actually called me a few weeks ago and demanded that I come home for my brother’s wedding in January. I told her that I couldn’t afford it, and my father actually sent me a plane ticket.”
The tension in my body returns at the thought of her going anywhere near those people.
“Over my dead body.”
“Huh?”
“You are not going to that wedding.”
“Jackson.”
“Sage. You. Are. Not. Going. Do you understand me? I’m not letting you go there so that those people can treat you like garbage. If they have a problem with that, you give them my number, and they can deal directly with me.”
She looks unsure of herself because she’s afraid to say no to them. It takes her a moment, but she gives me a nod.
“I need to hear you say it, baby.”
“I won’t go to the wedding.”
“Good. Now go to sleep.”
“You’re a tyrant.”
“Yes. But I’m a tyrant who would never hurt you.”
“I know,” she says barely above a whisper, snuggling back into me. Never in my entire life have I felt the pull that I feel when I’m with Sage. She’s caught me on her line and every day that passes, she reels me in a little further. All that’s left now is this deep desire to take care of her.
***
I woke Sage up this morning in the most enjoyable way possible because no matter what I do, I can’t get her out of my system. I cannot get enough of her. The way that she stood up to my mother yesterday was just the icing on the cake, defending us when things got out of hand. I can’t remember the last time I had someone take my back like that. Come to think of it, no one has ever stood up for me or defended me the way that she did last night.
I’ve spent practically my whole life thinking that all women were the same that they were all like my mother—selfish, cold users who only cared about themselves—but Sage has shown me that that’s not always the case. She’s never once taken advantage of the fact that I have money and power. In fact, she shies away from it, not wanting me to buy her things or take care of her expenses. She makes me feel like I’m enough, like what I have to give her is enough, even though it’s not much. I know that I can be cold, distant, and ruthless at times, but Sage makes me want to be better. And, as for her, well there is nothing better worth imagining. My chest burns at the thought of anyone causing her pain because she’s worked her way in so deep that she’s become necessary.
My eyes fill with lust and my cock twitches at the sight of her walking out of the bathroom with nothing but my T-shirt on.
“Come here,” I call, all thoughts of getting out of bed and getting dressed now completely gone out the window.
“Uh-uh,” she says with a childish grin and a shake of her head. She’s in the mood to play.
“Don’t make me chase you, baby. I will catch you, and when I do, I’ll make you pay.”
“How?” she questions on a breath, and I don’t answer her. Instead, I lunge out of the bed. She’s on the move, running toward the bedroom door, but she never makes it. My arms are around her, pulling her into me as I pick her up and carry her toward the bed. She’s giggling and screaming at the same time, and I can’t help but to laugh when I toss her onto the mattress. Fuck, I love this girl, I think to myself as she crawls up the mattr
ess trying to get away from me. I grab her by the ankles and pull her back down the mattress making her laugh again,
“Please, Jackson, stop.”
“Say that again, baby. I like it when you beg me,” I tell her. Her expression sobers, gone is the laughter and it’s replaced with desire. I’m willing to bet that she’s soaked between the legs now.
“Please, Jackson,” she murmurs when I crawl over her, pinning her hands above her head.
“Please, Jackson, what?”
“Please, Jackson, fuck me.”
“Oh, baby, that’s exactly what I intend to do.” I sit up on my knees and force her over onto her stomach. Grabbing her by the hips, I pull, positioning her with her ass up and her face down on the mattress. I let my hands roam down her back and circle her ass. Finally, I let my fingers slide along the lips of her pussy causing a whimper to escape from her lips. “Who do you belong to, Sage?” I question placing a kiss on her shoulder blade.
“You.”
“Yes. Mine,” I agree, sliding my cock inside of her. Her hands clutch the sheets and she cries out, driving me to push harder.
“Oh, God, Jackson. Yes.”
Fuck, I love how she loves taking all of me. She goes wild, completely free and unrestrained, and it’s beautiful to watch. I reach down, grabbing her hair and pulling it, using it like a rein. She begins to push her ass back, meeting me thrust for thrust, and it feels so fucking good. So. Fucking. Good. There’s never been anyone who compares to her; no one can match my sexual appetite so completely as her. I have to fight the impulse to lock her in my room and never let her leave. If that makes me a caveman, then so be it.
My cock throbs and I know I won’t last much longer. I reach around and begin to circle her clit. She’s close; I know it won’t take long to set her off.
“Baby,” she whimpers.
“I know,” I say, encouraging her to let go with a kiss on her spine and added pressure on her clit. One last thrust and she’s exploding around me, her walls closing in on my cock. I pound into her a few more times, gripping her hair harder and letting out a slew of curse words as my own release spills inside of her.
We both collapse together onto the mattress tangled up in a mess of limbs.
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