by Kat Catesby
Me: All resolved. Need one last favor – J’s home address?
I know Eric has the contacts and can get this information for me quickly.
Eric: Pushing the line of professionalism, Emmy. Do I even want to know why?
Me: Tying up a loose end.
Eric: Give me twenty.
Twenty minutes later, my phone vibrates with a message containing Jackson’s address and of course it’s some fancy penthouse in a highly secure building. So now I have to wait for Alex to come home – his skill is the easiest way around the security.
While I wait impatiently, my mind drifts to happy memories of my past life. The ones that stand out the most are the domestically content ones; sitting and reading together in front of an open fire, his hand idly playing with my hair as I lean into his touch. How he was always attentive and included me, even when he was talking business with others. He valued my opinions and wanted my thoughts; I was never just a trophy to him. I remember how protective he was, given that I hadn’t reached my prime in that life, but how it was always balanced and never controlling. I remember him down on one knee proposing to me, quietly, intimately. How, after I said yes, he kissed his way up my leg until he devoured my pussy and made love to me all night.
Yeah. I remember that…
I remember what it feels like to be made love to by Jackson Smoak…it’s definitely something I want my new body to experience.
Eventually, I hear the door to the apartment open and in walk Dee and Alex.
“Sulking in the dark?” That’s when I notice that I didn’t switch a light on.
“Since when do we need the lights?” Our eyesight is enhanced enough that nothing is ever truly pitch black.
“Still, you look like a weirdo, sweetie,” says Dee.
“Yeah, you almost look as depressed as Jackson did all through dinner. He kept glancing at your empty chair like a little lost puppy. He flat out ignored the red-head and fled as soon as it was socially acceptable,” Alex says.
“What did he say to you after we left?”
“It’s clear we have unfinished business, but I didn’t have the energy to hash out our old wounds, so I left.”
“Didn’t? Past tense?”
“Perceptive as always, Dee,” I answer.
“Let me guess, you need a jump somewhere,” Alex says mildly amused.
“If you’re offering,” I smile.
“Come here,” he gestures for me to walk into his embrace. “Where are we going?”
I tell him the address and point out the window – we can just about make out Jackson’s building from here.
“Hold tight,” he grins.
A second later and a sensation that feels a little like being pulled through a tornado stomach-first, we silently appear on Jackson’s expansive roof terrace.
“Call me if you need a return trip,” Alex says before vanishing in front of my eyes.
The silence and cool night air wrap around me, and suddenly I’m apprehensive, nervous and just anxious to get this over with so we can move on.
I look around the roof terrace, with its expansive pool and sleek lounge furniture, the faint blue glow from the underwater lights illuminating large potted plants and a doorway leading to the penthouse below. It’s locked, but that isn’t an issue for my telekinesis, which makes me believe Jackson will have other security measures – such as surveillance – in place.
He knows just how powerful supernaturals can be, so he’s not going to rely on a human lock to protect his home. By the time I’ve walked down the shiny modern staircase, I expect he already knows I’m here.
I walk down a short hallway that opens up into a spacious open-plan living space. The furnishings are lighter and more modern than I would have expected. The room is dark except for the ambient glow from outside, gently filtering in through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows across the large corner sofa, the dining area with its twelve chairs and art gallery worthy stone and glass dining table. At the opposite end of the living area is a sleek kitchen, a chef’s dream that probably doesn’t get used all that much, judging by its immaculate condition.
Soft yellow light from an adjacent hallway floods the kitchen space, highlighting the light marble countertops…and the woman wearing nothing but a man’s unbuttoned shirt walking in from the hall and opening the fridge.
Sonya.
My stomach bottoms out and all the air leaves my lungs. My brain scrambles for a logical explanation as to why she’s here…and naked…and clearly just been fucked, judging by the bed-hair.
Surely he wouldn’t have?
If he knows me better than anyone then he must know how devastated I’d be if he went off and fucked Sonya right after saying that to me.
“It’s not like you haven’t walked in on me naked before,” her harsh voice pulls me from where I’ve been frozen; I’ve been standing blank-faced and shaking long enough for her to spot me.
I can’t do this.
I can’t be here with her smug face smiling her superior satisfaction at me. Not while my heart breaks all over again. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to talk to Jackson about us earlier, but I genuinely believed we had a tomorrow.
Not if he’s fucking Sonya, we don’t.
Without saying a word, I turn and head back towards the small hall that leads to the roof terrace staircase; I need out of here ASAP.
“Wait,” she sighs at my retreating back. “Jackson will never forgive me if I let you walk out of his life again because you think I fucked him. And trust me when I say, my life won’t be worth living if I’m the reason he loses you. Back in college, he was powerful, but there were other Avidites he had to answer to and who I could keep sweet. But now, for all intents and purposes, Jackson is the man in charge. The growth of his company these past few years has given him even greater wealth, power and a very broad reach. He has influence and he’s not someone I want to piss off.”
“Firstly, I’m not in his life and if he cares as much as he claims, then why is he fucking you? Secondly, he knows there’s animosity between us so why the hell would he agree to be your maker, knowing it tethers you to him forever. If the man loved me, he wouldn’t have done that. And thirdly, you’ve been antagonistic to me for years, if me walking out somehow puts you on his shit list, then the universe is doing me a solid because you deserve some karmic retribution. I hope you both have a nice life.”
I turn my back on her again and storm towards the hallway once more, pulling out my phone to message Alex so the can jump me home.
“He’s not my maker.”
I stop so abruptly I drop my phone on the floor.
“What?”
“Jackson isn’t my maker, an Avidite called Ben is.”
Somehow, I manage to conceal my complete relief.
There was just something so gut-wrenchingly soul-destroying about the thought that Jackson could be involved in her life so intimately that he was happy to turn her.
“Okay. Still doesn’t explain why he would fuck you after the things he said to me earlier.” Unless I’m so utterly mistaken and Jackson doesn’t want me?
“I’m in a relationship with my maker, Emilia. Ben and I live in Miami and are only in town to visit friends. Jackson and Ben have been friends for about fifty years and that’s how I met him. Ben’s in bed down the hall, where I left him and I don’t know where Jackson is – asleep in his room or beating the shit out of a punching bag would be my guess.”
“You’re in a relationship with someone called Ben?”
“Yes, have been for years.”
“Then why were you Jackson’s date this evening?”
“Because he was afraid you’d be at the gala. He was angry and confused over what happened with his cousin, but still in love with you. He was a mess trying to reconcile such polar emotions. I offered to accompany him because I knew it would piss you off and keep you away enough for him to get through the evening.”
“And he went alon
g with that, knowing it would hurt me to see you both together?”
“Not everything is about you, Emilia. Tonight started out about his self-preservation, not about being spiteful to you.”
“I can’t have your connection with him constantly thrown in my face. Whenever we’re together, you’re always around.”
“What connection? I’m not with Jackson. I love another man and we live on the other side of the country. Jackson isn’t my maker and Ben and I only see him about once a year. You need to get over yourself. I get that you needed to break free and live your own life, but you seem determined to selfishly insist on everything being on your terms. Relationships don’t work that way. There needs to be compromise. You need to meet him half-way and show him that you deserve the love he’s held for you for over a century. People make mistakes. They aren’t perfect…and neither are you.”
With that, she walks off towards the hallway she came from and that’s when we both see Jackson standing there in nothing but a pair of gray sweat pants.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely to Sonya as she walks past him, leaving us alone.
My heart instantly jumps into my throat as his eyes roam across my body; we couldn’t be more oppositely dressed – him so relaxed, me so dressed up in my golden gown and heels.
“I thought you said not now?” he says, his deep voice doing amazingly tingly things to my clit when his rippling muscles are on display like this.
“I changed my mind.”
“I saw you arrive on the roof, nice trick with the door. You could’ve just called.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“So, breaking and entering it is then?” his lips pull into a small lopsided smile.
“I didn’t break anything.”
“Ah, so trespassing then?”
“It’s hardly trespassing if you knew I was here the whole time. I take it you heard everything Sonya said?”
“Yes. Everything she said is true. Ben is her maker; I see them once a year when they come to stay with me. I also don’t throw or attend Donor parties. In fact, for the last six years, I’ve only fed from blood bank donations. I’ve also not had sex with anyone since the night we were busted by Matron Price.”
“Really?” I’m at a loss for what else to say.
“Yes, really. Losing you always leaves it’s mark. In fact, you’re the only woman I’ve had sex with since our night together in Dartmouth.”
“How?”
“Easy. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else and like I said, years aren’t as long as they seem when you’ve been alive for more than a century. After you died, I mourned you for a long time before I was eventually able to consider being with another woman. You were gone and I was faced with the heart
breaking realization that it might be forever, even though I had faith you’d be reborn. Once I found you again, no other woman existed. Even when I was angry with you, being with another wasn’t an option.”
“For someone who’s held on so tightly to the memory of me, why were you so quick to let me go?”
“Allow me to explain. When you left for Columbia, I knew where you were and I knew that you were safe. It hurt that you ran, but I understood how overwhelming me and our world would be for you so I didn’t follow you. I know you don’t like invasions of your privacy, so please don’t be upset, but I kept tabs on you to make sure you were safe and I decided the best thing would be for you to discover our world and your place in it under the guidance of someone neutral. I fully intended to find you after graduation, but then you stormed into my club and I didn’t need to. That night I thought we had made progress and I would get to have you in my life again, so when you came to find me at Dartmouth, I’d been running for a couple of hours to burn off the excited energy I was still buzzing with. Then you dropped your West Coast bombshell and it was like the ground was ripped out from under me. I didn’t realize how much I’d been planning my life with you going forward until you took it away from me. I was tired and taken off-guard. I didn’t react well. It just sounded like another excuse to run. I guess my anger was based on panic; I was panicking because I had just given you four years of space, which was hard for me to do at the time, having just found you again, and I didn’t know what it was going to take to keep you. That’s when I saw your steel and determination; nothing I could say was going to stop you from going and I was upset that you wouldn’t stay for me. I would’ve followed you anywhere; splitting my time between here and San Francisco would’ve been easy –”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because at that moment I thought I saw how differently we felt about each other. I thought you didn’t love me enough and I loved you far too much. It made me so angry that I let you go – stupidly hoping that you would miss me so much you would come back and when you didn’t, it just made me angrier. I vowed that I wasn’t going to track you down again, that if you wanted me, you would have to make the effort. Even so, I started keeping tabs on you again and when I learned about my cousin, I really lost it. I had spent so much time telling myself that I was pissed at you and that you weren’t the woman I fell in love with, that it was easy to convince myself you were a completely different person. After his death, I pretended I couldn’t possibly love a woman like you and then this evening you put me in my place and I knew I had been talking bullshit. Us being apart was my fault because I was too busy brooding and nursing my wounds instead of seeing that I was the reason for it.”
“Sonya has a point. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own needs that I didn’t consider yours. Life can’t just be on my terms; relationships don’t work that way.”
“True, but I pushed you away. I could’ve stopped and taken a breath, but sometimes with you, it’s primal and instinctual and I was hurting enough that I couldn’t think straight. It’s my fault we lost the last six years together. I’m sorry, Emilia, and I miss you.”
“I remember everything,” I say quietly, still digesting everything he’s said, his apology and the fact he misses me.
“You remember everything?” he asks, eyes wide with shock and hope, the muscles of his chest bunched tightly.
“Everything. When your cousin pushed me off the walkway and I hit my head, it must’ve unlocked them because when I woke up in the hospital, my head was filled with another life. All the memories, all the emotions…everything was there. So I remember enough to know that I am different from how I was then. That means we need a clean slate; no more comparing me or my actions to my past life. This is me now.”
“I know. I once told you that I didn’t understand this version of you, the truth is I prefer this version of you; your fire, steel, and determination. You are stronger than I ever thought you would be and I only realized that when you left for San Francisco and didn’t come running back to me. You forged your own path, despite what anyone said. You are braver and more stubborn and you’re not afraid to speak your mind or put me in my place. The woman standing before me now is beautiful and self-assured, and the truth is, the differences make me love you more.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You still love me?” Somewhere deep in my soul, I know the answer to this, but I need him to unequivocally say it. Out loud.
“Never stopped. I love you, Emilia,” he says, his voice a deep, possessive growl.
He stalks toward me, his muscles rippling with the commanding movement. Jackson eliminates the gap between us in seconds and then I’m wrapped in the steel cage of his arms, his hot lips pressing desperately against mine. His tongue demanding entry and I am not going to deny him.
“Clean slate?” I gasp between oxygen stealing kisses.
“No more bullshit, Emilia. This is it. This is us.”
“Good,” I say, raking my nails down his defined back, tracing every dip and hollow as his muscles bunch and coil.
The man is a sculpted Adonis and I am more than happy to worship him. He deserves that. We’ve both inflicted hurt and neither of us is perfe
ct. But he’s shown me more than once the depth of his feelings and I’ve never reciprocated. I’ve never shown him what he means to me, not in ways that he’s ever been able to see.
Jackson matters. Our future together matters.
I feel his dextrous fingers working the zip of my dress down to the curve of my ass, the rough tips then caressing their way back up my spine to slide the strap off my shoulder. All the while his probing tongue shows no mercy, making it difficult to draw breath. Pretty sure at this point he’s breathing air into my lungs for me.
My dress begins to fall down but doesn’t make it past my swollen breasts. The nipples pointed with need and keeping me from being completely naked. The silken material rubs against my aching peaks and a fresh pool of desire soaks my underwear.
Jackson moves his hands to cup my breasts, his thumbs rubbing and pinching my sensitive nubs until I’m whimpering loudly into our kiss. The attention assists my dress with its transition to the floor in a flutter of silken material, leaving me naked except for my lacy thong. The dress wasn’t forgiving in the visible panty and bra line department, so I went without the bra and wore the tiniest thong I own. It barely conceals my pussy and now that it’s wet, it clings to my pussy lips obscenely.
Jackson groans his approval deep in his throat. It’s guttural, primal and has me on my knees before him, pulling on the waistband of his sweats. It takes a moment to untangle his sizeable cock from the confines of his clothes, but once he springs free, my lips find the deep red crown and pulsing veins. I lick and suck his velvet skin, making him moist enough for me to attempt putting him in my mouth. I want to feel him in my throat so badly, but the man has a thick shaft that makes my jaw ache.
I’m not giving up though, I suck and lick as I slowly work my way down his length, one hand tugging gently on his balls while the other grips the girthy root of him.
“Fuck yes, Angel. Just like that. Take a little more. You’re so fucking beautiful with your lips stretched wide around my dick.”
I moan at his appreciation, making his cock twitch and his hands thread into my hair.