She settled back into her skin, back into the reality of the moment as he lowered her to the ground. But her body was surging, desire drowning her thoughts. He was urging her to walk to the room, still wrapped around her and taking steps that moved them both in that direction.
His lips covered hers and his tongue swept into her mouth in a cool, minty kiss. But as he lowered her to the bed, pressing her to the mattress with his body, and his hands slid up her shirt, fires ignited where he touched, and the heat of him consumed her. She interrupted the kiss to slide her shirt over her head, pulling him to her, craving his skin against hers. He moved slow, hands trailing along her stomach and back, and then the clasp of her bra came undone. He kissed down her neck, and the tips of his fingers slid her bra down her arms in a whisper.
Her certainty wavered the lower his hands got, the closer they got. Nerves rose in her gut, clashing with the sensations he caused with his touch, his lips. She had started this but was unsure how to finish it. She was frozen, letting him take control. But when his mouth found her nipple, all voices stopped, and all doubt ceased. Sensation took over. It all centered on him. Her hands clamped on his shoulders as he played with her. Pleasure shot through her, building in her core, and her hips rocked under him.
He squeezed her breasts together, slipping his tongue between them and then to the next nipple. Her hands slid down the firm muscles of his back and under the elastic of his boxers, grazing the top curve of his butt. The way he licked and sucked and nibbled was driving her wild, and she wrapped her legs around his back, giving in to the need of pulling him closer, pulling him in. Her body demanded it. His hands slid up her legs, and her chest ached to get them back. But he unwrapped her legs from him and held her thighs to the bed as he kissed down her stomach, till his lips hit the edge of her jeans. He dipped his tongue under the waistband as his fingers jumped to the buttons. But it was his stare that slowed her down. He locked his gaze with her, his eyes fevered and bright as he slid her pants down her legs. “These are nice.” He ran his fingers along the edge of her lace underwear but didn't break his stare to look at them. She had to look away when his finger slipped past the thin material and plunged into her without warning. Her body pulled tight, and she closed her eyes with a moan as he continued his skillful touches.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he slid her underwear down her thighs and they disappeared. “So sexy,” his breath hit her inner thigh, and she melted with desire. “And it's all mine.” He pulled her hips with his hands, lifting her center to his lips. Within moments, he had her shaking and spinning. And she wanted more. She wanted everything. She pulled on his shoulders, maybe she was begging for him, but she couldn’t hear it. There was nothing besides the hunger, the desire surging through her.
He was hovering over her body everywhere, but no weight on her. Except there. She could feel the tip of him between her legs, pressing, rubbing her slickness. He dropped some of his weight onto her and buried his head in her hair, pressing against her neck. He was cautious and slow, following the rhythm she created. It was all so slow and overwhelming. His breaths rasped, and muscles were taut as he rocked his hips into her over and over, straining with his control. His slow pace eased into something harder, faster – something she couldn’t keep up with, and it was only the edge of his power. She could only grip him and hang on, biting his shoulder, close to crying out from the intensity. And then he locked up, holding his hips deep in her as his muscles released and twitched under her palms. She could feel him shaking inside her.
When Jackson woke, he instinctively reached over for Abigail. But the bed next to him was empty.
The smell of coffee was wafting from outside the door, so he got up and made his way to the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said when he saw Abigail standing behind the counter. He smiled at her, but she didn’t return his smile.
“Coffee?” she asked.
He nodded, and she handed him a mug.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“That morning after weirdness thing. Stop it.”
Abigail sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Listen, last night was fun –”
“Just fun? You came five times.”
“OK, more than fun. But we can’t continue this. I crossed a serious line sleeping with you. I could lose my job.”
He smiled and stepped closer to her. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“It’s not that simple, Jackson.” She couldn’t finish her thought because he interrupted it with a kiss. She tried to push him away, but soon her body relaxed against his. So much so that she didn’t even realize he had pulled her down to the kitchen floor until after she was on her back with him on top of her.
An hour later, she was lying on the floor, panting and smiling. “OK,” she said. “You win.”
He smiled and draped his arm over her. Propping himself up on his other elbow, he turned to her. “Hey. You want to go to practice with me later?”
~
Abigail was sitting in her office – she had taken her last patient for the day – and decided to go and get lunch from the building cafeteria.
She grabbed a turkey sandwich and a bag of potato chips and went to sit at a table with a few of her colleagues.
They all had private practices, each with different specialties, but saved on overhead costs by pooling their money and operating out of the same building.
One of her colleagues, Penny, a child psychologist, was talking to them again about selling her practice and getting out of the business.
Abigail had ignored the news running in the background until she heard mention of the NFL. Suddenly, she perked up and turned to face the TV.
Of course she already knew that Jackson had aced his tryout and had been drafted. But still she couldn’t help but smile when his face came up on the TV.
One of her other colleagues, Jessica, who sat next to her perked up suddenly as well. Abigail resisted the urge to give her the side eye. Jackson was a handsome man after all. It would be silly to think no one else would notice him.
She began to daydream. The last few months had been the best of her life.
“That’s one of your clients isn’t it? Jackson Blake?” Jessica asked, pointing at Jackson on the television.
“Yes.”
Jackson Blake. My client. My man.
Abigail thought Jessica had given her a funny look but didn’t say a word. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to the situation.
After lunch, she went back to her office to sort out some paperwork. If she hurried, she could still leave early and maybe surprise Jackson with some dinner. And dessert.
She was getting ready to leave for the day when her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Abigail.” It was Melinda. She was the most senior of her colleagues and for all intents and purposes, she ran things there.
“Hi, Melinda. You caught me on my way out.”
Melinda’s voice was curt on the other end. “Stop by my office please.”
“Sure.”
Abigail had a funny feeling in her stomach. What was that all about? She grabbed her briefcase and shuffled out the door, making a beeline for Melinda’s office.
“Sit,” said Melinda when Abigail had let herself in. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Abigail swallowed hard. “Nothing I can think of. Why?”
“Jackson Blake. He’s one of your pychiatric patients, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dating?
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t be coy. Are you sleeping with him?”
“No,” Abigail lied.
Melinda looked down at her cell phone. “Then why did someone text me a picture of you two kissing in the park across the street?”
Abigail was speechless. Her worst fears had been realized.
“Can’t answer that, can you? I am so disappointed in you, Abby.”
Ab
igail’s heart sank. Melinda had mentored her early on in her career, had vouched for her, resulting in her getting high-profile cases she’d have never gotten on her own.
“You should know,” Melinda continued, “that an official investigation into your conduct has been launched. I recommended to the board that they suspend your license for the time being, so don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”
Abigail didn’t know what to say, so she grabbed her bag and left quietly.
Back at her apartment, she made herself some tea and sank into her bed, pulling the covers over her. She ignored Jackson’s call and drifted off to sleep.
A persistent knock on her door woke her the following morning. Thinking it was Jackson coming to check on her, she hopped up and went to answer it.
It wasn’t Jackson, but rather a tall, wiry man with slicked-back hair wearing an ill-fitting suit. “Abigail Fox?”
“Yes. That’s me,” she said warily.
He held out some folded up papers and without thinking, she opened her palm to receive them.
“You’ve been served,” he said and then walked away.
She couldn’t believe this. Abigail tore the papers open, and a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She was now facing a malpractice suit.
Tears started to fall from her face, and she took a deep breath to try to regain her bearings. She grabbed her phone and dialed her sister’s number for the first time in years.
“Has someone died?” her sister said when she picked up the phone.
Abigail sighed in relief. She had been half-expecting her not to answer.
“Astrid, I need your help.” Then she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?”
Then she told her, let it all out. When she had finished, Astrid was silent on the other line.
“Say something,” Abigail shouted.
“You’ve really done it this time,” she said.
“Can you help me or not?” Abigail knew that she could. Astrid was the hottest of hot shot lawyers. If anyone could make this go away, it was her. So what she was really asking was, will you help me or not?
Astrid sighed. “I’ll come by tomorrow, and we’ll start preparing a defense.”
Abigail let out a breath. “Astrid…thank you…so much.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Abby?”
“Yes?”
“Jackson.”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“If you want to win this case, dump him.”
Abigail spent the entire night sobbing. She didn’t know how she was going to break this to him, but she knew she couldn’t see him in person. She couldn’t look into his eyes. So she called instead.
“They can’t do this to you,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than she’d ever remembered it sounding. “Let me come over and talk to you.”
“No,” she sobbed into the phone. “You don’t get it, Jack. It’s over between us.”
“Over? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Abby…let me come and see you. We should talk.”
But she hung up before he could say anything else.
~
Jackson didn’t hear a word his coach had just said.
His team had just lost their third straight game, and coach was really letting them have it.
Jackson wasn’t listening, though. His mind was elsewhere.
The guys in the locker room shot him dirty looks but he didn’t care. He showered, packed his things and went home.
It was the bye week, so at least he’d have some time to think. Once he was at home, however, he could find no peace.
He knew what he needed, and he reached for his phone.
She picked up almost instantly. “Jackson?”
“I miss you,” he said, getting right to the point.
Silence on the other end. Then, “I miss you too.” Her voice sounded sad. “But you know you shouldn’t call me at this number. Any day now they could subpoena my phone records.”
Jackson gritted his teeth. He hadn’t called to talk about her case.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as if hearing his thoughts. “I don’t mean to keep bringing it up. What’s up with you, though? You need to break this losing streak.”
“You’ve been watching my games?”
“Of course I have. And you don’t seem like yourself.”
“Can I see you?”
“You know you can’t.”
“Please.”
“I want to…but we shouldn’t.”
“He nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but she was right.
“Goodnight, Jackson.”
That night, Abigail settled in for some sleep but got up when she heard some rustling in the kitchen. She thought she’d be contending with a mouse and that she’d have to now get a cat but, to her surprise, it was Jackson standing there.
“What are you doing here?”
“I know you said not to come, but I had to see you.”
“How did you get in?”
“You never asked for your key back. Relax. No one saw me.”
“How can you be sure?”
He didn’t answer her; he only stepped closer until his face was inches from hers. Suddenly she stopped talking. He reached out and cradled her head between his hands. The warmth of his fingers gripping the back of her neck radiated through her, heat melting her strength. His eyes were locked on her, and the determination in them churned her stomach. She didn’t stand a chance because she wanted nothing more than to be trapped in his gaze all day.
She didn’t know who moved, but their lips collided and his hand tangled in her hair as his tongue swept into her mouth. Then his kiss slowed down, and he dropped his eyes.
“Please, I want you.” That was the full truth. She’d never been so certain of anything.
Then she was slammed to her back as he jerked her hips forward, pulling her legs around his shoulders. He lifted her hips off the bed[S2] as his hot mouth hit between her legs, his tongue splitting her open. Swirling, pulsing, carrying her on a high she couldn't escape. She couldn’t move besides gripping the sheets under her, only her head and shoulders on the mattress. He’d taken all leverage away, and she was helpless in his arms. But he expertly brought her to the edge of sanity, her skin dissolving and nerves heightened as everything scattered with a thrust of his tongue. Time stopped as waves crashed over her, drowning her with intensity.
Just when she thought she was about to explode, crying out with no air, he was up. Standing as he brought his hips between hers, still holding her in that position that gave him all the power. When he slid into her, her body bucked and snapped with the shock. With an ability beyond her, she was up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his neck as she pressed into him. His skin was slick, and so was hers. They slipped against each other as he moved her up and down in rhythmic bounces. She moved against him, wanting more. Wanting harder. He showered her face in kisses, his breathy praise swirling around her, bleeding into unintelligible pants. “You feel so good… so tight… fuck…perfect…Abby…mine…perfect.”
He touched her everywhere, returning to the spots that made her heart race most. Their bodies flowed into each other, his nails dragging over her skin like fire, his pants quickening. The bed shook beneath her as he thrust into her, again, and again, and again. The power in his firm and trembling muscles filled her, and she clung to him, her skin needing his slick heat. Then she quivered, and he held her, slowly returning to normal as his body shook under her touch. He collapsed onto her, resting his head on her stomach, his large hands gripping her hips still. Neither of them moved. They couldn’t. The air was thick, a fog filled with the echoes of what they had done. The sensations still rippled under her skin. The room still spun as they lay exhausted, spent.
Abigail closed her eyes in a warm haze. His heartbeat was strong but fast under her ear. They lay for a
while, their fingers outlining each other in soft trails as the air cooled around them. His heart slowed, and his breathing steadied. The hum of silence was soothing.
SEALing The Victory Page 3