“Are you ready for some fun?” he asks with an amused smirk.
I have no idea what kind of fun we’re going to have in a gated, woodsy area, but for some reason I trust Jackson. I don’t know if it’s because of his time in the service or the fact that he owns a security company, but I don’t believe he’d put me in harm’s way. I take a deep breath and smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Do you mind clueing me in to what this fun is?”
Jackson grabs my hand as we walk through the gate. What I see stops me dead in my tracks and I drop his hand absently. He’s got to be kidding me! Through the clearing is a large four-story building. Long ropes stretch from the top of it to a huge pole across about a hundred feet of open air, with only a shabby-looking net under them. Off to the right are four tree trunks on their side with about a foot of space between the ground and the trenches dug beneath them. Farther down are large metal cylinders that you either climb through or over. What the hell is this place? As I continue to look around, there’s more—ropes, walls, even a moat! Oh hell no! I’m in jeans—cute, expensive, skintight jeans—and a pretty pink top. He’s insane. I look over to where he was standing, but he’s moved about ten steps away. He’s leaning casually against the gate, and judging from the look on his face, he’s getting quite a kick out of my reaction.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask him with a half laugh.
“What?” he replies innocently, a sarcastic grin plastered to his face. “You said you were stronger than I thought. I figured maybe you’d wanna put your money where your mouth is, Ms. Pope.”
“I never said I was training to become a soldier!” I huff.
Jackson walks toward me and stops about a foot away. He has one brow raised and his voice is playful. “Sailor,” he reminds me. “Hmmm, maybe you’re too …”—he taps a finger on his chin—“scared?” he taunts.
My jaw falls slack as I stare wide-eyed at his comment. I’m way too competitive to let that comment slide and somehow he knows it. Yet again he’s found a way to bend me to his will. Who the hell does he think he is? Screw that! “I am not scared! I will own this course, Muffin.” I glare and then soften as an idea enters my head. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I bend and touch my toes, providing a little seduction of my own. I glide back up and cock my head to the side, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes. “I hope you’re ready to have your ass handed to you.” I’m about to embarrass myself, but I will not let him beat me.
Jackson takes a small step forward. His cheeks raise and the crinkles by his eyes grow more defined. His eyes are sparkling and his voice is smooth. “Then by all means.” He waves his hand toward the course. “I can’t wait to have my ass handled by you.”
“Handed! I said handed!” I throw my hand over my face. I fell right into this trap and now I’m going to look like an ass. If I’m going to lose, I will go down with dignity.
“Same difference.” He laughs. “You should know this isn’t my first time here. I also never lose, so if you want to back out, now’s your chance,” Jackson says, completely relaxed. He starts stretching, laughing at me as I glare at him.
“Nope,” I say confidently. No way am I going to back out now. I’m in this—balls to the walls. I mentally roll my eyes at my false bravado. I’m so screwed.
I look over and realize I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do. Is there a safety harness or padding I can wear? Shit! I clear my throat and Jackson looks back with a knowing grin. “Ummm, how does this work? Do I start here or what?”
He walks me through the course, explaining whether to go under, over, through, or up. I keep shaking my head and huffing, each time earning a laugh or some other entertained reaction from Jackson. I sure hope he’s enjoying himself because I’m freaking the hell out.
We end back at the starting point and he places his hands on my shoulders, brushing his thumbs across my collarbone, sending chills through my body. His finger glides up my neck, just barely touching my skin. Without permission, my head tilts into his touch, naturally gravitating toward him like a magnet. His eyes swim with emotion as I try to decipher what he’s feeling. Jackson shifts forward and puts his lips to my forehead. My lids shut as I absorb the moment of intimacy. Inch by inch he backs away and I stare at him with questions floating in my head. One side of his mouth lifts and his low voice cracks through my daze. “Time starts now.”
“What?”
“Clock is ticking. You’re wasting precious time that you’re going to need if you plan to …” He looks pensive as he rolls his eyes up and taps his foot. “What was it? Oh I know, handle my ass.” He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Remember, I never lose.” He swats my ass and laughs.
I take off and start running, half surprised, half frustrated that his plan to get me flustered and then start the timer worked. Stupid boy and his stupid plan. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The only thing keeping me moving is my need to win and the chance to watch Jackson run this damn course after me. I climb over the logs and then crawl through the metal tube. As I approach the huge building, I swallow nervously. Seriously? I have to climb this? Panting my way up the stairs, I make a mental note that the gym is now a daily requirement. It feels like someone’s sitting on my lungs. I continue to climb but stop when I notice Jackson standing at the top, smiling. Asshat!
As I move toward the ropes, he steps forward and puts his hands on my waist. I don’t have time for his stupid touch-Catherine-and-she-gets-flustered game—I have a challenge to win, dammit. “Place your hands on the rope,” his deep voice commands. “Now swing your legs up and grab it with your feet.”
My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. He’s joking, right? There is no way I’m sliding down this rope. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll just slide down the net.”
His loud guffaw reverberates in the woods around us. “Fine. Then I’ll add two minutes on to your time.” He shrugs as he returns to his spot against the wall.
“Yeah, that whole endearing thing is total bullshit. They lied.” I narrow my eyes and then grab the rope, swinging my body forward but missing with my feet on my first try. I cast a quick glance at Jackson, who’s trying to hide his smile. Bastard. I bite my lip and try again, managing to get my leg around the rope this time. I hold on for dear life and lean my head back, smirking at Jackson with an I-told-you-so look. Okay, now what?
As if hearing my mental question, Jackson walks toward the rope. I’m hanging upside down with my head still tilted backward, giving him a perfect view of my breasts. Though he seems to be trying to keep his eyes on mine, he’s failing miserably as he glances more than once. A low grumble sounds from his chest and he closes his eyes. His voice is strained when he looks back at me. “Okay. Now, slide down the rope and keep your feet locked. If you fall, you lose.”
I groan, slowly starting to move down the rope. There are times I truly wonder what the hell is wrong with me and why I’m being punished. I look back at him when he grabs the rope and pulls himself up. It jumps and I clench my legs tighter, letting out a high-pitched scream. “Jackson!”
“What?” he asks innocently.
I’m not buying his act.
I slide lower down the rope, getting about halfway and feeling confident I can do this, when it jerks again and I bounce up and down. He smiles widely and I let him know what’s about to happen. “I swear you’re going to pay for this!”
He’s a dead man walking. I continue to slide until I reach the end, where I promptly let go and fall on my ass. Awesome. That’s going to leave a mark.
Running to the finish line, I hear his throaty laugh behind me as he claps his hands. “You did it!” he yells excitedly, moving fast in my direction.
My hands are on my knees as I gasp for air, trying to catch my breath from running and hurling myself all over this stupid course. People do this for fun? He moves toward me and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I gasp and squeak, “Jackson! Put me down!”
He lets out a chuckle
while carrying me over to a bench near the starting line. His voice is happy. “Nope. You need to sit and see how it’s really done. Time to watch the master.” He plops me down and hands me his watch. I stare up at him as I realize I get to watch him run it now.
“Master? What if my time is better?”
He laughs and quickly recovers. “Should we bet?”
“Are you sure you want to chance it?” I smile, goading him.
Jackson has a huge grin on his face as he stands in front of me, blocking the sun with his muscular body. “If I win, you have to have dinner with me in New York.”
“But if I win, you owe me a spa day and a new pair of jeans.”
Jackson smirks as if this is the easiest bet he’s ever made. “Deal. This is going to be a walk in the park.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
He chuckles and grabs my hand holding the watch. “Okay, that button on the right is the timer. When I say go, you press it. Got it?” He smiles as I nod in agreement. Good thing he missed my finger twitch when I pressed it a moment ago.
“Oh, Jackson?” I ask innocently.
“Yes?”
I casually lift my shoulders and press my chest out to stretch my back, taking an agonizingly slow time with each movement. His jaw tics as he watches me roll my neck. I let out a gentle breath and drop my voice to a seductive whisper. “Did you enjoy the show?” My teeth bite on my bottom lip and I watch every moment, taking great pleasure in the way his eyes drop to my mouth and his Adam’s apple bobs.
He takes a deep breath and rips his shirt off, stopping whatever game I was attempting to play. Holy fucking shit. He’s standing completely still, allowing me to take him in. Each muscle in his solid body is toned and perfect. My mouth goes completely dry as I stare at his taut chest and the large tattoo covering the left side of it. It’s a tribal sun that takes up the entire space over his heart. Greedily, my eyes graze lower to his rippled abs, all the way down to my favorite part of a man—the deep V. I find my way back up to his blazing eyes—the look he gives me cements me to my seat.
He takes three long strides and places his hands on the back of the bench on each side of me, staring intently into my eyes. I feel naked, the intensity of his gaze stripping me and baring my soul. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet so desired at the same time. His breathing is labored and I’m completely still. Neither of us moves as my eyes start to drift, and then he makes a deep noise in his throat. My gaze quickly reverts to his turquoise eyes as they probe for something. Between the running, adrenaline, and the intensity that is Jackson I start to get dizzy.
He leans in and drops his head to the side of my neck, taking two deep breaths. I can feel the tension, the turmoil rolling through his body. I don’t know what he’s fighting. He runs his nose up my throat and my eyes roll back as I moan. “Keep making those noises and I’m going to get the wrong idea.”
Abruptly, he’s gone. He’s at the start line looking back at me. “Ready for your show, Catherine?”
So damn sure of himself, isn’t he? Leaning back, he lifts his arms over his head, which causes his shorts to drop a tiny bit. My eyes follow the indentation of his hips down to the tiny trail that leads to all things happy. My lips part and my breathing becomes erratic. I’m incredibly turned on right now. He gets in the ready position, waiting for me to tell him to go. I smile inwardly knowing that he’s added about three minutes on to his time with his little seduction game. I lift the watch and yell, “Go!”
Nothing could have prepared me for watching Jackson run the course. Not only does he have a large tattoo on his front, he has one on his shoulder as well. It’s black and looks like the skeleton of a frog. His body moves as if he was made for this—each leap graceful and precise, every step calculated. His body moves, his muscles tighten, and my mouth waters at the sight of him. There’s no time for me to return the favor of climbing to the top of the ginormous building, so I decide to rush over to the bottom of the steps. Jackson still has a little time before he makes it over there, although with the way he’s moving, it may be a lot faster than I’m anticipating. I get there before him and try to climb a couple flights, but the five-alarm fire burning in my legs prevents me from getting too far. I sit on the steps instead, trying to appear casual as Jackson starts to climb.
I lie across the step and rest my hand on my propped-up knee. He gets to my step and stops briefly, letting out a throaty laugh. “Nice try, babe.” He leaps over me and laughs the rest of the way up.
I turn and yell in his direction, “Hey! Not fair!”
I look up and see him descending a rope faster than I thought humanly possible. Somehow when he reaches the bottom, he’s not even winded. He sprints to the end, finishing without breaking a sweat. Jesus!
He yells back, “Done! Press stop!” as I gingerly walk to him, trying to lessen the throbbing in my muscles. Jackson heads toward me with a huge smile on his face as I press the button.
I place the watch in my back pocket. He’s not getting it until I know my time. “So, Jackson, you tell me my time and I’ll tell you yours. Then we can see who the winner is.” I raise my eyebrow, smiling coyly.
He reaches forward and pulls me against him. “First, dinner. I’ll tell you then.”
“What?” I huff. “No! I want to know now.” I purse my lips and push back from him.
“Too bad. If you want it, you have to have dinner with me. Besides, you owe me anyway.”
“Ugh! You don’t fight fair.” He drives me insane. On the other hand, I haven’t had this much fun since … I can’t even remember. He makes me laugh and feel special. There are worse ways to spend my evening than dinner with an extremely sexy and agile and funny and powerful and … Oh man. This is bad. He’s all of those things, but he’s also my client. Still, he doesn’t seem to be concerned with that little fact.
His low voice halts my mental debate. “Stop overthinking. It’s dinner—we can even talk business. Plus, don’t you want to know how bad you lost and if you get your spa day?”
I grab the watch, taking a picture of his final time with my phone. I clear the display and then hand it back to him. His time was outrageously long—that makes me smile. And now that I have the proof in my phone, there’s no way he can deny it. “Fine. Dinner, but we talk about work. Then I’ll show you just how bad you lost.” I grin, walking toward the car.
I climb into the cab of the truck, laughing as I imagine his reaction when he finally sees his ridiculous time.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing. You’ll see later tonight. Unless of course you’re ready to share my time now?” I smile and bat my eyelashes.
He returns my smile and throws the truck in reverse. “Nice try, babe. But if I give you the time now, I’ll have nothing to ensure you show up tonight.”
“It’s not like I can go very far.” I really want him to tell me so I can watch his face fall when he sees how bad he lost. There’s no way he beat me. Well, there is, just not with the amount of lead-time I added in. If he still beat me, even with the extra time, I’m not only signing up for a gym, I’m getting a personal trainer.
“No, I think I have you right where I want you.” He winks and his cheek rises.
We start driving back toward the hotel, but it’s a different way than how we came. When I look off to the right the shoreline is close. It’s beautiful. The homes lining the street are all quaint little beach cottages with white picket fences and trees that cast shade over the road.
“This area is adorable,” I muse.
Jackson looks over, smiling. “I lived on this side when I was stationed here. It’s the locals’ beach on this side of the bay. You get to enjoy the ocean without the crowds.”
“So if you still have your headquarters down here, do you stay in a hotel every time or do you have a home here?”
I wondered this before but wasn’t sure how or if I should ask. Since he thought it would be entertaining to make me run an ob
stacle course, I think it’s fair game. If it weren’t for him, my legs wouldn’t be throbbing and my arms wouldn’t be numb.
“No, I sold my house when I moved up to New York. I kept the office here because it made more sense being close to the base. Plus, it gives me an excuse to come back to the beach and see friends.” His hand grips the steering wheel and he puts his blinker on.
“Where are we going?” I ask, confused. The hotel isn’t here, not that I know where here is. But still, there isn’t anything here but trees. I look at the sign as we turn—another military base. No. No. No. I’m not doing this again. He’s trying to kill me. “Ummm …”
Jackson laughs but doesn’t answer. He gives his ID to the guard at the gate and keeps driving forward. “Relax, this will be fun.”
My hands are clenching the seat as I try to get a grip. Jackson reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling it onto the middle console as his fingers intertwine with mine. If he keeps pushing against that wall, soon enough it’s going to crumble. Distance. I need distance. I try to pull away but he tightens his grip, continuing to look forward.
“I don’t believe you. You said the same thing about the last base we went to.”
“I had fun. Didn’t you?” he asks.
“Fun? Sure, if you call aching joints, atrocious hair, and a dirt mark on my butt from falling fun. I would call it something else, but we can go with that.” I smile even though I was going for sarcasm.
Jackson’s loud laughter fills the truck as he parks. A little nervous and afraid to see where he’s brought me, I decide to stare at him—the view is beautiful either way.
“You still look perfect even with messy hair and dirt on your ass—which I happen to be fond of.” Jackson’s brow raises and he shifts forward, coming so close our lips could brush. “I want to show you my favorite place in Virginia Beach, or would you rather go back?”
Beloved (The Belonging Series) Page 12