“No, he’s spending the night with a friend.”
I ran my hands through my hair and looked to the right of the porch.
“You want to come in?” She asked.
“Sure.”
She stepped back and I caught a whiff of tomato sauce coming from the kitchen.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah. It smells good.”
“Well, you’ve had it before. My famous spaghetti.” She smiled and I felt relieved to discover she had good memories of us together.
“I remember.” I followed her and sat on a stool near the counter and watched her finish making dinner.
She rinsed the pasta and stirred the sauce and despite all we needed to talk about and all we needed to settle, her every move turned me on and in an obvious way. I was happy I had on jeans.
“Jackson.”
“What?” Pay attention, Jackson.
“What do you want to drink?” She asked.
“Water is fine.”
“I have beer.”
“No alcohol the night before a game.”
“Oh yeah. You're starting tomorrow. Aren’t you supposed to be in meetings or something?”
“Coach said we’ve been working hard so he gave us some time off until curfew.”
“What time’s curfew?”
“Lights out at eleven.”
“You have,” she looked at the clock in the wall, “five hours.”
“Plenty of time,” I said.
She bit her lip and turned her attention back to her food.
She handed me two glasses of water. Our fingers touched and I almost dropped them. I stood for a minute looking at her and wondered what to do with them. She pointed to the table and I walked over as she followed with two plates of spaghetti. I set the glasses down and took a seat. She set the plates down.
She headed back to the kitchen, opened the oven and the smell of garlic filled the kitchen. She retrieved the bread, cut it and brought it to the table. She slid in the seat next to me and our legs touched. She placed her hand on my knee.
“Sorry.”
“No problem.”
We ate and I tried to think of something to talk about. Anything to get my mind off watching her lips suck on noodles. Pure torture.
“You ready?" she asked.
"For what?" I grabbed a napkin and whipped my mouth. Was I drooling? I felt like a horny teenager.
Football man. She's talking about football.
“Yeah. I’ve been practicing with the first team all week.”
“How’s it feel? Getting to know a new team and all.”
“It’s strange. Fighting for a job. Humbling.”
“Well, you looked pretty good last week.”
“That’s with the second team offense against the second team defense.”
“I heard some piece on the news about how you and Towson are putting in a lot of extra work after practice.”
“Yeah, he’s great. Freak of nature talented. It’s the other guys who are proving to be a little hard to convince.”
“Well, they’ll come around. You just go out there and do what you know how to do.”
“That’s what James said.”
“He’s a smart kid. They are going to name you the starter for the season. You deserve it, besides Sampson has too many limits. He’s nowhere near as talented as you are?”
“Wow. I need to come around you more often. I always loved your pep talks.”
“Doesn’t it seem like a lifetime ago?”
I reached out and touched her arm. She looked at me, and I stared into her eyes.
I waited for her to pull away or look away or both. I figured she would start in on how I needed to slow down or how she wasn’t ready. One of a million excuses she had used in the past, one of a million tactics she had employed to avoid the topic of us.
I held her gaze and she smiled. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her face softened and she placed her hands on top of mine. Then she did something I would have never expected in a million years.
***
Carrington Olivia Butler
When Jackson placed his hands on my arm, I gritted my teeth to keep from pulling away. We were moving too fast, but the look on his face made me pause. I didn’t know what came over me. I wanted to feel him next to me.
I placed my hand over his, and he tensed. He must have thought the same thing. I ran my hands up his arm. I stood and placed my hands on his shoulders as I straddled his lap. He spoke, but I cut him off when my lips sought out his. I didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to dissect. Didn’t want to figure out whether what I was doing was a good idea or not. I didn’t care where the need came from. All I knew was that I needed to feel his hands on me.
I adjusted myself on his lap. He groaned when I pulled him closer but shifted away from me. His arms remained at his side, and he lips seemed stiff and tentative. I grabbed the back of his neck and pressed my lips and kissed him harder. I licked his bottom lip and again, he tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth my tongue darted inside. Our tongues touched and a burst of flavors washed over our taste buds.
He ran his hands up my back, and I moaned. They traveled back down my side and gripped my hips. He lifted me, pushed his hips out and sat me back down on his growing hard on, and we both groaned from the pressure. He leaned into the kiss and our tongues darted in and out. He pressed down on my hips more and I whimpered. I drew my head back and opened my eyes, afraid of what I would see. I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t want my mind to get in the way; I wanted to feel him inside of me.
His expression held confusion. Even through his jeans, I could feel how much he wanted me, too. It felt amazing. His eyes transformed to a lustful gaze, but something in his brain made him hold back.
I reached down and pulled my tank top over my head. I sat there pushing on his lap, topless, my nipples standing at attention, and it was more than any man could resist. A grin spread across my lips, and he sighed. I knew I had him. He gave in. He nodded in defeat, grabbed my ass, and stood up with me in his arms. I pressed my chest up against him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I tugged on his earlobe as he carried me out of the kitchen.
“Bedroom’s back there.” I didn’t even recognize my own voice, my tone filled with years of pent-up passion and lust. I had dated and had sex in the last few years, but none of them compared to being with Jackson. None compared to the best I ever had.
I planted kisses down Jackson’s neck as he carried me down the hall. He found the bed and laid me down. I pulled on his t-shirt and he removed it while kissing down my neck and chest. I tried to sit up. I wanted to see his body, feel his chest, but after a quick glimpse that wasn’t near enough time, he pushed me back down and grabbed my breast with his hands. He squeezed them, while he placed small, wet kisses around the curves. He alternated, giving them both attention. He licked my nipple with his tongue, and I would arch up to meet him, and then he stopped and switched directions. I whimpered in frustration. He grinned as he teased me. I stifled a scream, which lead to a moan; his touch was excruciating and so hot.
He kissed back up my chest as his erection, covered in his jeans, pressed hard into me. I opened my legs to get his center as close to my core as possible. I hated the layer of clothes that kept us apart. I reached down to unbutton his pants, but he grabbed my hands. He kissed them and placed them over my head while covering his lips with mine.
He placed his hand flat on my stomach, and he sat up next to me. He grabbed the top of my pants and panties in his fist and pulled them down in one smooth motion. His knuckles grazed between my legs on the way. I gasped. He deposited them on the floor and ran his hand back up my leg. No grazing and no tentative touches this time. His fingers went straight for my pussy and pressed inside me as his thumb pressed on the outside. His other arm lay over my stomach pressing me into the bed and restricting my movements. He worked his hand in and out of me. I grabbed on to his neck, dug my fingers into
his skin as I came with a low moan from someplace deep inside of my soul, like nothing I had ever felt before and it scared the shit out of me.
My body shook and a sheen of sweat sprung out over my entire body, as I came down from the most intense orgasm I had experienced ...well, since the last time Jackson and I were together. My thoughts were all jumbled. My brain went back there to the time when we were so in love and so connected and with all that came the pain. It was all mixed up together and it hurt. My insides clenched when I felt Jackson shift and his tongue found my center.
My brain said wait, stop while my body craved the amazing sensation that eclipsed to another level.
Jackson sensed my hesitation.
“Carrington, baby, let go,” he whispered as if talking to my soul. I whimpered with every movement of his tongue. I bit my lip and tried to hold it in, but it was no use. I crashed hard.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and I gripped the blanket under me with one hand and Jackson with the other as I cried out. It hurt and felt so good all at the same time and my brain didn’t know how to process it.
When I regained feeling in my body, I opened my eyes and found Jackson watching me.
“You okay?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer him. His concerned freaked me out. I didn’t understand what happened and I felt any answer I came up with would be inadequate to describe how I felt. I remained silent. He climbed up next to me and pulled me into his arms. I turned to my side and wrapped myself around him and rested my head on his chest.
I hoped he didn't feel the silent tears that fell from my eyes as he held me tight.
I wasn't sure how much time elapsed, but I was yanked out of my own thoughts when something vibrated against my hip. I lifted my head as he fished his phone out of his pocket.
“You have to go?” I broke the silence.
“Yeah, curfew in thirty minutes.”
I sat up and a chill clued me into my nakedness. I scooted off the bed and grabbed my robe hanging on the opened bathroom door. I secured it before turning to face Jackson, but he had his head buried in his own shirt, pulling it over his head. He stood up and put his phone back in his pocket.
I walked over and grabbed his forearm and squeezed. He looked down at me and kissed me on the top of my head. I lead him into the hall way and toward the front door.
“Have a good game. I know you’re going to do great.”
“Thank you. I’ll just go out there and do what I know how to do, right?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Yeah, well, you know. I’m a stupid jock, sometimes it doesn’t sink in the first time.”
“Then I’ll keep saying it.”
He smiled and leaned over and kissed me soft on the lips. I squeezed his arms, and he wrapped one around my waist, laid his hand flat on my ass and kissed me harder. I held onto him as my knees went weak.
When he broke off the kiss and opened the door, I regained my composure.
“I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Maybe you and Jackson can come by next week and see my new place.”
“You found a place?”
“Brenden, my assistant, found it. It’s out in Glendale near the stadium. It’s nice.”
“Your assistant, huh?”
“Yeah, in case you didn’t know. I’m a big time NFL quarterback.”
I laughed.
“I heard that somewhere.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said and planted another quick but knee buckling kiss on my lips. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Bye,” was all I could manage.
I closed the door but sat on the steps and watched him stroll to his car, get in, and drive away. The longer I remained on the steps, the more confused I became about what had happened between us.
I shook my head and put my face in my hands, but then drew them back. My hands smelled like Jackson. I groaned and headed in the kitchen. The half-eaten spaghetti remained on the table. I put the dishes in the sink when my phone buzzed on the counter.
Jackson: I’m still hungry.
I took a photo of the half eaten plates and sent him a reply.
Carrington: You can finish it later. :-)
Jackson: Looking forward to it.
I finished cleaning up the kitchen, went into my room and flipped on NFL network for background as I turned on my computer. I opened Facebook and did a search for Jackson Latre Mitchell. It only brought up his fan pages. I scrolled through some of the photos and read some of the treads from his fans. Everyone loved him. He had over a million likes on his page. I wondered who ran it for him.
I switched over to Twitter and found his verified account and read his tweets from today.
@JLMitch09: As long as I put my team in a position to succeed, I trust that they will do the rest.
His praise for his teammates touched me.
@JLMitch09: I think James Towson is the best wide receiver in the game today. By the end of the season, you will believe it, too.
I caught a glimpse of his gorgeous face and bright blue eyes on the HD television. I turned up the television and listened to the commentators talk about Jackson and it seemed like they were talking about someone else. Not the man who made my insides explode with his fingers and his tongue. I got all tingly inside thinking about how he felt pressed up against me. How his fingers knew how to touch me. My brain struggled to give up control, but the way he touched me, and his suggestion for me to let go was all I needed to shut off my mind and let my body take over. It was scary but freeing at the same time.
My issues with control stemmed from my relationship with Josh, but this wasn’t the same thing. Tonight wasn’t the same thing. Tonight, it wasn’t so much about what Jackson needed, but more about what I wanted.
The guys on the show were discussing what Jackson had to do to win his job and one guy said he had one game to prove himself. Another guy shook his head and said he had one series to prove it.
I couldn’t imagine the type of pressure Jackson was under. Maybe he needed tonight, but didn't he already have enough pressure without me adding to it?
When we sat down to dinner, it did feel like old times. Maybe he needed that tonight. A no pressure situation to put his mind at ease for what he had to do. I was happy I could provide that for him, but surprised after doubts and fears had consumed me all week.
I had gone back and forth about what I wanted and what I thought Jackson wanted and always at the top of my thoughts, how what we were doing would affect Jack.
Maybe I could use a little less thought and go with my feelings for a while.
See how that worked for me for a change.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carrington Olivia Butler
I woke up the next morning and reached for my phone to call Jackson and resume our pre-game ritual, but I couldn’t bring myself to hit the call button. Turned out he didn’t need it.
The Cardinals won and Jackson played like a first round draft pick. Coach Crawford announced in the post-game press conference that Jackson would be the opening day starter. His performance sealed the deal, but Sampson made the decision easy for their coach. Sampson took over in the third quarter with the second team and in three series, he managed twenty yards and no first downs. After his second interception, even he knew his fate.
And due to his sideline temper tantrum, everyone relived it on Sportcenter the following week. Sampson went off on his wide receiver and tight end and Jackson stepped in and said something in his ear. Sampson tucked his tail between his legs and walked off the field and back into the locker room.
Jackson called me when he got home.
“What did you say to him?”
“I just asked him if this was really the lasting image he wanted going out over the airways.”
“Too late. It already looked bad.”
“I know. I kind of feel bad about that, but he’s a dick. Everyone knew it, now there's video proof.”
�
�Is he going to be able to back you up?”
“He has no choice, but I do have to play nice. I don’t get to choose my teammates.”
“You know he hit on me once.”
“He mentioned it.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about how he was done with you and he gave me permission to have you.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“I figured he was just fucking with me.” Jackson cleared his throat. “He was messing with me, right?”
“Of course. The partners took Adam and me out to dinner soon after we moved here. He came over and sat down at our table and all the lawyers sat back and listened to him tell story after story about his college heroics. It was kind of pathetic. After dinner, he asked me if I found it difficult keeping all those partners off my perfect ass. Said he would protect me for a piece.”
“Damn.”
“Mind you, he had his hand on my ass as he said this.”
“Well, you do have a great ass.” He chuckled. “It’s like round and firm and fits perfectly in my hand. I can understand—“
“Focus, Jackson.”
“Sorry. What did you say to him?”
"I just sort of squared up on him, looked him in the eye and said I’d rather be gangbanged by that group of lawyers before I’d let him touch my ass again.”
“Jeez, Carrington.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not as nice as I used to be.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“Oh, yeah. What do you see?”
“I don’t know. You’re kind of aggressive, and very direct. You’re such a badass.”
I remained quiet on the phone. Not sure how to respond to that.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s hot as hell and you’re still you, just different.”
I spent a week in Los Angeles working on a contract negotiation. I made it back in town a few days before the season opener. On Friday night, Jack had a sleep over at a friend's house. I figured mommy could have one, too. I invited Jackson over for dinner.
Hope for Us (Hope Series Book #3) Page 7