“Always,” I say.
“Even after the c-contract?” she asks.
“Always,” I repeat.
She kisses me again, eyes squeezing shut, and I know the time is right. I run my hand down her back, removing the ice and most of the water before I easily flip her over. I crawl over her, kissing a path from her neck to her nipples, circling them with my tongue. She spasms against me, every movement of my lips and tongue amplified by the endorphins flooding her system. I know I don’t have as long as I would like before the chemical reaction dulls and the pleasure recedes, so I position myself between her legs and guide my hard cock inside her.
She gasps, scissoring her thighs around me and digging her heels into my lower back, urging me deeper. I give her what she wants and more, pinning her wrists down on the bed above her head.
Her pussy grips me so tightly I can barely stand it. I grit my teeth, pounding into her. Her head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. I don’t focus on my own body or the sensations exploding across my skin. I just look at her perfect, angelic face and I listen to the moans spilling from her lips. I ride the current of her orgasm with her. My cock pulses inside her with my own release. I grip her tightly as she bucks against me, grinding into me and gasping for breath.
When I’m finally spent and she has come down from her climax, I collapse on the pillows beside her, sighing with satisfaction.
“Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?” I ask.
She rolls to her side, resting a small hand on my chest. “I think you did all the work,” she laughs. “Unless mindlessly humping you counts,” she adds.
I chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her. “You know,” I say. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to find something. I’m still not sure I know what I was looking for--happiness, satisfaction, accomplishment--but I’ve finally found it. It’s you. You’re what I’ve needed all my life.”
She squints at me. “Is this the part where Ashton Kutcher runs out from behind the curtains and tells me I’ve been Punked?”
I smirk. “Maybe if the show hadn’t been canceled like… seven years ago.”
“You really mean all that?” she asks, lips parting slightly as her big doe eyes bore into me.
I kiss her again, letting my lips linger on hers. “Yes. With all my fucking heart.”
“You’re not still mad about the writing thing?” she asks.
“Not a bit. But you need to let me read it when you’re finished. Who knows, I may want to publish you.”
She laughs. “Oh God. You really want to read it?”
“Yes. Every word.”
“Well,” she says, clearing her throat. “I don’t know if it’s just the crazy and amazing sex talking, but I think I love you.”
“You think?” I ask, rolling on top of her and pinning her arms down. “You think?” I repeat, chuckling as I tickle her sides.
She laughs, trying to break free. “I know!” she cries. “I know, I know! No more!”
“I’ll stop when you say it.”
“I love you!” she laughs.
I straighten, straddling her waist and sitting back on my calves.
Her smile fades and her eyebrows draw down and together. “I love you,” she says seriously.
I bend to kiss her softly, pulling my lips back, but keeping my forehead against hers. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Let’s talk about Brianne’s piece,” says Professor Barlow. “Will you start us off with an excerpt?” he asks.
“Okay,” I say. I hold the story in my hands and notice they are steady as rocks. My voice doesn’t feel tight. I don’t even feel afraid to hear their feedback. When Mia stole my story, it felt like I had been violated. I tried for a while to pick up where I left off, but decided to start fresh. I’ve been writing like a maniac ever since. Now that I’m with Jackson, it feels like the words flow out of me faster than I can keep up with, and they feel real.
I begin to read.
“She…” I begin, losing track of the words as I read. It feels more like I’m recalling the events of the last few weeks than like I’m reading, and by the time class is over, I’m left with the most positive feedback I’ve ever had from a workshop class.
I’m leaving class when I see Jackson leaning against the wall outside. Dread creeps in on me at first. Today’s the day our contract expires, and despite everything that has happened between us and the things we talked about, I’m afraid he’s going to tell me it’s over. The girls from class shoot me jealous looks when they see him here for me again. I ignore them as much as I can, but I have to admit I feel a vague sense of pride from it. In the span of a month, I’ve gone from being the virgin outcast to the girlfriend of a man everybody would kill to be with. I shouldn’t get so much satisfaction out of that, but, well, I do. He’s my man, and I’m damn proud to say so.
“Hey,” I say. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time I spend around him, I still find my stomach turning over on itself when his eyes meet mine.
“I need you to trust me,” he says, biting his lip and looking down at something in his hand.
“Please don’t say you want space,” I plead. “I don’t think--”
He silences me with a kiss. It’s hard at first, but it turns tender as he strokes my cheek. “I don’t want space,” he says. “I just need you to trust me for a few hours. Can you do that?”
“Okay…” I say slowly.
“Good. See that car?” he asks, pointing to a black sedan. “My driver is waiting inside. He’s going to take you somewhere, but you can’t know where you’re going.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why can’t I go with you?”
“Because I,” he says, kissing my chin lightly. “Need to go set up.”
“Set up?” I ask.
“You’ll see. Just trust me.” Jackson winks at me, pulls me in for one more kiss, and leaves me breathlessly watching after him as he heads off in another direction.
I walk toward the car, wishing I knew what the heck to expect. I’m not dressed for anything more than a night sitting on the couch watching movies. But when I get inside the car, I see a small, decorative box sitting on the back seat with a note on top. I pluck the note out and open it, recognizing Jackson’s cramped but neat handwriting.
He has been very good about respecting boundaries when it comes to extravagant gifts since we’ve been together. I made it clear that I never wanted to feel bought by him, and he has understood completely, so far. But somehow this feels different, and I find myself giddy to see what’s inside the box. Maybe it’s just that I’ve finally passed the point where I have to worry about other factors clouding my judgment. I don’t have to worry I’m with him for my writing anymore. I don’t have to worry it’s about the money.
I’m with Jackson Pierce because he’s charming, intelligent, caring, and, well, I’d be lying if I said his talents between the sheets weren’t a major perk. I don’t care if I have nothing to compare it to, Jackson made me go through a full day of class with a sore ass from the spanking he gave me the night before. Then there was the time he literally made me cum with nothing but his voice. Yeah, I think I’m qualified to say he knows what he’s doing.
The note is short and to the point:
Princess,
Forgive the gift. You can burn it after tonight if you want, but I knew you’d need something to wear for the occasion. You’ll look beautiful.
Can’t wait,
-J
I open the box and gasp a little when I see the dress. It’s a sleek black dress with all the accessories tucked away in the box everything from white pumps to diamond earrings and a stunning necklace. I glance up at the driver, who doesn’t seem to be paying me any attention. Well, if Jackson thought I was going to change in the car, he has another thing coming. A few minutes later, the driver pulls up to a colonial style house a few minutes away from the campus.
“You can change inside,” says the driver, who eyes me through the
rearview.
“Who’s house is that?” I ask.
“Mr. Pierce made all the necessary arrangements. If you would please hurry, Mr. Pierce was very insistent that we arrive at a particular time.”
I hesitantly grab the clothes and head inside. The door is unlocked and as much as I can tell, the house is deserted. Feeling like an intruder, I search for a bathroom to change in. I slip out of my clothes and get changed. When I’m done, I look at myself in the full length mirror, feeling like I’m looking at a different girl. No. A different woman.
The woman staring back at me is more confident than the girl from a month ago. I don’t know how to place exactly what has changed, but I can see it. I don’t feel like a scared, awkward virgin anymore. I guess because I’m not. I smirk at myself, trying out a sexy expression as I turn to walk away and bump face first into the doorframe. I stagger backwards, blinking through the temporary pain and laughing at myself.
Okay, I may be more confident, but I don’t think I can cross awkward off the list yet.
I think about a lot during the drive. Like how happy I am for Lacey. Ever since things ended between her and Cameron, she has been so much happier. Well, that, and the fact that she’s now dating Hunter, who happens to be a filthy rich and loves spending money on her. I really am happy for her though, because he seems like a nice guy, too. The two of them are currently in Nepal, on some extravagant backpacking adventure Hunter planned for them. I had never seen Lacey so happy as she was when she was getting ready to head out.
I would say I’ve been lonely since she left, but the truth is Jackson’s sister, Sarah, has been opening up to me ever since he snuck her out of Fairfield’s. Neither of them have been too clear about the details, but I’m pretty sure she’s essentially a fugitive at this point because a judge ordered her to be in the mental health facility for another year. I do know Jackson is working with a lawyer to try to find a way around it, but in the meantime, she’s basically hiding from the law in his house.
It’s a funny thought, because she couldn’t be any sweeter. She doesn’t talk much, but when she does, every word carries a weight to it that feels somehow powerful. She even started singing again, and God she has a beautiful voice. I’ve been trying to talk her into starting a YouTube channel so she can share her talent, but that’s a definite work in progress.
Jackson won’t tell me what happened, but the same guys who seemed to want to hurt us have basically become our bodyguards. It was hard to get used to at first, especially since my gut reaction was to run for my life when I saw them. He promises me we don’t need to be afraid anymore, though, and I’ve learned to trust him completely.
Mia got expelled from our school when I went to the university president and told him what she did. She tried to deny everything, but when they searched her room they found a backup USB with my story on it and several other homework assignments lifted from other girls in our dorm. I don’t know what happened to her after that, but I don’t really care.
I’ve been writing every day. At first I made my goal to write a thousand words a day, then it was two, and then four, and now I write seven thousand words a day. I basically finish a book every three weeks, and Jackson is currently having his team look through my submissions. I made him promise to drop them in the pile with the rest of the books and only look at them if they made it all the way to his desk. He was reluctant, but eventually agreed.
The driver finally parks after we’ve driven for what felt like forever. I lost track of where we were hours ago, but now see we’re deep in forested hills and there’s a path leading into the trees to my right.
“Mr. Pierce would like you to head down that path,” says the driver.
I step out of the car, thank him, and follow the path without hesitation. If there’s one thing I’ve become accustomed to, it’s following Jackson’s commands without question. There’s a satisfaction in it that runs so deep I can hardly put it into words.
After a few yards, I see Jackson waiting for me in a crisp black suit with a white undershirt. He smirks, pulling a red rose from behind his back. “Sorry, I know it’s cliché,” he says. “But I wanted to give it to you. Indulge me,” he adds.
I smile, taking the flower and leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you. You don’t have to apologize. Red roses are only a cliché for girls who got them their whole lives. This is my first.”
He looks thoughtful. “It won’t be your last then. I’ll give them to you until it becomes a cliché.”
I laugh. “That sounds like a deal.”
“Come on, I have something for you.”
He leads me a little farther down the path where we come into view of the most perfectly serene lake I’ve ever seen. It takes my breath away. The setting sun behind the hills casts the entire lake in a brilliant orange glow. There’s no sign of civilization anywhere, except for the quaint little cabin at the water’s edge. A dock spears out from the back of the cabin into the lake where a small canoe is docked.
“I figured you wouldn’t let me get you anything too extravagant, so I played it safe.”
“What do you mean? Did you rent this for us?”
He hands me a key, giving me an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “I bought it for you.”
“Jackson…” I say, “You didn’t really buy this for me, did you?”
He winces a little. “You don’t like it?”
I bite my lip, taking the key from him and nearly tackling him with the force of my hug. “I love it.”
He breathes a sigh of relief and pulls me toward the cabin. “I’m glad, because there’s more. I wasn’t sure how we’d do this next part if you refused to take the keys.”
I laugh, following behind him and enjoying the rare sight of him being less than his perfectly confident self.
He leads me inside and I gasp when I see how perfect the cabin is. There are large windows overlooking the lake, cozy furnishings that make it looks like the absolute best place in the world to curl up with a book or my laptop. There’s a little kitchen and a beautiful bathroom. There’s even a loft area reachable by ladder where there’s another window and a small bed for sleeping.
“I thought this would be the perfect place for you to get away when you need to. I’ve worked with a lot of writers in my life, and one thing they all seem to wish they had is a cabin in the woods somewhere. A place they can just focus.”
I smile up at him. “I don’t think I knew how bad I wanted something like this until I saw it. Does this have to be a cabin of solitude?” I ask, gripping the lapels of his jacket and grinning. “Or can I bring my boyfriend up here when I want?”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the whole, boyfriend thing,” he says with a smirk. He drags me to the kitchen table where the contract I signed sits. I narrow my eyes at it, unsure what to think.
“You signed this contract a month ago, and today is the last day of that commitment,” he says in formal tones. “I’ve thought a lot about this, and I’m not ready for our commitment to one another to end, Brianne.” He falls to one knee and pulls a small ring box from his pocket, opening it as he holds it up toward me. “Will you marry me?”
I lose track of how many times I say yes as I tackle him to the floor, kissing him everywhere I can reach. And over the next months I lose track of how many times I tell him I love him, and how much stronger the feeling gets every day. I lose track of how I ever lived without him.
Extended Epilogue (Bundle Exclusive!)
Brianne
“You know surprises make me nervous,” I say to Jackson as he leads me off the airplane. I’ve had to get used to a certain level of extravagance, part of which is the fact that Jackson refuses to let me fly commercially. He only trusts his personal pilot and his own private jet when it comes to me. I let it slide though, because I never can seem to get enough of his possessiveness.
“Maybe I like you a little nervous,” he says, taking my hand. “You say the funniest things when you’re frea
ked out.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, feeling my cheeks redden. Okay. I may have the vaguest, slightest idea of what he’s talking about. There was the time I accidentally called him daddy while he was spanking me. Or the time I asked him to pass the cockporn instead of the popcorn--Jackson, of course, didn’t miss the opportunity to give me what I really asked for, right there on the couch.
“No idea at all? You don’t remember telling me you wanted to get all your dicks in a row before we left for the cabin last month?”
I glare at him. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
He smirks, pulling me to him and bending to kiss me. “That’s too bad. Because it’s fucking adorable when you get embarrassed.”
“Wait a second,” I ask. “I thought you said we were going to California. That sign looks Italian,” I say, pointing to a sign designating which hangar we’re walking past.
“What kind of honeymoon would it be if we went to California?” he asks. “I wanted it to really be a surprise, so I had to fib a little.”
“Mr. Pierce,” I scold. “You’re always telling me how important trust is. How can I ever trust you again?”
He glances over his shoulder before pressing me to the side of the small hangar our plane landed in front of. There’s a crew servicing the plane a few yards away, but they aren’t looking toward us. Yet. “You can trust that I’d do anything to make my girl happy.”
He emphasizes his words with a wandering hand that starts to work its way up my thigh and my dress.
I clear my throat, trying to pull back before someone sees us. He pushes into me a little harder, pinning me and stroking my slit through my panties. My eyelids flutter and I gasp. “Someone could see,” I whisper.
“They could see me finger fucking my wife?” he asks, grinning.
Wife. Hearing the word from his mouth sends a quick shock wave of excitement through me. I’m married to Jackson Pierce. Annnnd Jackson Pierce is putting his hand inside my panties now. “Jackson,” I breathe.
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