Scars and Tats

by Kristi Pelton

  “Jackson!” I yelled, dangling over his back.

  Running into the living room, Beck started laughing and jumping up and down chasing us. I was slung over Jackson’s back like a sack of potatoes and Beck could reach me.

  “You’re Mom made Hulk angry, Beck! Now the tickle monster is here.”

  Beck cackled, making me laugh harder. Then Jackson flipped me over and gently laid me on the ground.

  “Help me, Beck!” Jackson shouted.

  Within an instant, Beck’s and Jackson’s fingers wiggled frantically, tickling every spot they came in contact with.

  “STOP!” I yelled, trying to wriggle away from them and careful not to kick Beck. “STOP. Please!” I begged, laughing hysterically.

  Suddenly, the front door flew open, slamming against the back wall. The cooler air rushed in right after Layne dashed through with wild eyes. Eyes that could kill. Jackson jumped up in a defensive position ready to attack.

  Without warning, Layne stormed across the room tackling Jackson to the ground.

  “Layne, no!” I shouted.

  “Beck hide!” Jackson yelled.

  Suddenly, Beck raced for the hideout, drawing my attention away.

  Jackson was pinned to the ground, and when I shouted one more time at Layne, Jackson drilled his fist straight into Layne’s stomach, flipped him over and immediately, Jackson’s hands circled and gripped Layne’s neck.

  Chapter 18

  JACKSON

  Love ‘em or shoot ‘em

  “Jackson, please. No!”

  Mela’s voice echoed in the distance but the words didn’t register. Nothing registered except my hands around the man’s neck that had just threatened Mela and Beck. His neck was huge. The entire body of this man was huge.

  I’d heard the name before. Layne. Mela had mentioned sleeping with him or wanting to. My grip tightened. The man’s eyes were wild with anger… or fear. I would kill him if I needed to—to protect them. I saw a flash in front of me and glanced up quick enough to see Mela running for me. Shouldn’t she be running the other way or grabbing the gun or something?

  I released the man’s neck with one hand to stop her from hitting me. It’d be like hitting a brick wall to her. Her frantic eyes never left mine as she collided with me, knocking me off of the man in her living room.

  I struggled to catch my breath when she knocked the wind out of me but rallied quickly. I stood holding my hand out to keep the man at bay.

  “Get the gun,” I instructed her.

  Her hands clasped both my cheeks. “Jackson. Stop. Layne is my friend. He’s Beck’s friend.”

  I leaned my head away from her reach. The brown eyes I loved rounded.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked the man.

  The man’s braids dangled around his face as his dark eyes sized me up. This man was supersized like a fucking Big Mac. And I swear to God, I was probably going to lose this fight. But I’d be damned if I would go down without a fight.

  Mela quietly walked toward him. Him…not me!

  “Are you ok?” she asked.

  I had never been racist in my life, but I had to admit I was jealous of the black man in front of me.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked her barely above a whisper.

  “Layne. This…is my friend…Jackson.” She pointed at me.

  Blood sprinted through my body as my pulse pounded clear up in my throat. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this…this pissed off.

  His nostrils widened with each inhale. He was angry too. Bring it. I’d take an ass whooping for her.

  “Jackson,” Mela whispered. “This is my friend Layne,” she repeated.

  There was that damn, fucking friend word again. I hated it even more now…to find out we were both her friends.

  Layne strolled past me, keeping his eyes glued on mine until he disappeared around the corner. I turned my attention back to Mela. I never thought she wore much makeup, but a small smudge of black lay beneath both eyes from her tears.

  “Friend?” I questioned.

  I spun back around when I heard Beck’s voice. The man was carrying him like a bag of flour.

  “Jackson! Layne’s here!”

  I forced a smile. “I see that, buddy.”

  “Layne. Jackson has some really fun games. And he likes the Broncos.”

  Layne smiled an even bigger smile than mine. “That’s awesome. You’ll have to teach me when he’s gone. When is he leaving?” he asked Mela with a clenched jaw.

  The answer to that would be never.

  “I don’t know, yet. We haven’t talked about it.”

  “Mommy. Can I go back to town with Layne. Please.”

  Mela swallowed hard.

  “I think I’d like it better, Beckster, if you and I both stayed here,” Layne suggested.

  I laughed beneath my breath. I bet you would like that.

  “Maybe that would be best, Layne. If you take him into town. It’s been a few weeks and that’ll let me straighten stuff out here.”

  She tilted her head back and forth. I certainly didn’t like the vibe I was getting.

  Layne nodded and Beck erupted into a series of cheers.

  With literally zero conversation, Layne and I sat in the living room as Mela and Beck packed his bag.

  “I know you,” he finally whispered. “Trust me, she doesn’t or you wouldn’t still be standing in this house.”

  He stood, sliding his jacket back on. All I did was glare at him.

  “When you hurt her…” he said softly.

  I stood a little straighter. “I have no intention of hurting her. And if you know me, then you know my cases and that means you have secrets you’ve kept from her too. So fuck you.”

  When he strolled over to me, I realized he was a good six inches taller than I was. He was massive.

  “There is no way around not hurting her. Consider this your warning.”

  Silence was the only response I gave. I wondered what concerned him most.

  “Done!” Beck shouted, skipping over to the man.

  Mela brought out a couple of bottles of water and snacks in a sack.

  “What’s it like out there?” she asked him softly.

  “He’ll be fine. The snow on the other side of the mountain is almost gone. Creeks are fast. We’ll make it up and down. Come to town tomorrow or meet you half way?”

  “We’ll come to town,” she said. Her eyes flickered momentarily to mine.

  With that, he brushed a kiss over her forehead, slung the pack over his shoulder and put his hand out to Beck. He didn’t take it. Instead, he dashed straight to me, wrapping his tiny arms around my thighs in a hug of sorts. Lifting him beneath his arms, I brought him up for an official hug.

  “Have a great time, Beck.”

  Beck pushed away and looked at me. “You should come. Layne is so much fun.”

  I nodded, squeezed him again and replied, “Maybe next time, I will.”

  The three adults in the room knew that would never happen.

  “Bye, Mommy!”

  “I love you, bud.”

  She waved from the front porch as they hiked out of sight through the snow. I stood stewing on what had happened, preparing my argument like any good lawyer.

  When she closed the door, a chill settled over the room, especially when her rounded eyes met mine.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You can’t beat up people when they step foot in my house.”

  I reached to adjust my tie. I wasn’t wearing a tie. Courtroom habit.

  “Step foot in your house? Mela. The man stormed in and attacked me first. How was I to know he was your friend?” I tossed up air quotes for good measure. “All I could think was to get Beck out of there and protect you.”

  When she closed her eyes, she shook away some thought. “You choked him,” she said softly.

  There was no way I was going to feel bad about this.

  “Mela. I’d choke out anyone to protect
you.”

  “You can’t do that!” she said sternly with her finger pointing at me.

  My jaw tightened. “You can navigate the 4-year-old’s life but you can’t navigate mine.”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. That was a first.

  “Jackson, you honestly don’t even know me.” She found her words.

  What the fuck? Was she having second thoughts about this? Before Conan had stormed in—things had been good. There had to be something more between them than just friends.

  I strolled toward her. “I know that you’re kind, caring, gentle, a phenomenal mother, an attentive care taker, a one-of-a-kind lover and a fierce and loyal protector. That’s all I need to know.”

  Her eyes softened and then dropped to her bare feet. She wiggled her toes, then glanced back up at me.

  “Jackson. Sit down, please,” she whispered, and I did watching her cautiously.

  For the longest time, she stood staring out the window.

  “I…a few years ago…I…” she paused touching her stomach. Swiveling toward me, her eyes darkened.

  “Would you be with me?”

  That was not where she was going with this. There was no way in hell that was what she had been about to say. And what she asked left a lot to interpretation.

  “What do you mean—be with you?”

  She shook her head with a grimace contorting her face. “I didn’t mean like happily ever after, I meant…like…sexually…now. I want to be with you. I need you.”

  I grinned. And it wasn’t just a grin…it was a goddamn fucking dorky grin. Dorky because it made me happy. Dorky because I wanted her too. Dorky because just getting those words out were difficult for her.

  “Come here,” I said, beckoning her with my finger.

  Lowering her head, she walked toward me.

  “Huh, uh,” I said. “Go back over to that window and look at me when you walk over here. Don’t be shy, Mela. Don’t be embarrassed. If you ever want me, you tell me. No matter where I am, I will make it work. I will make it happen. Do you understand me?”

  She rolled her eyes with a minor smirk. With extreme exaggeration she turned around and gallivanted her sexy little ass toward me like a runway model, rocking her hips from side to side in those jeans that cut her body perfectly. I laughed out loud. Ante upped.

  God, she was simply adorable. She giggled as I embraced her.

  “Listen to me, ok?”

  She nodded; her brown mane beautifully framed her face. Her playful façade diminished some.

  “I know telling me what you want is hard for you. I know that you might see that as weird. But, I want to give you what you want. What you need. Ok?”

  “Yes. I’ll try. It’s hard sometimes because of her and because of Beck too.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “I understand why your sister’s situation might make it difficult, but help me understand Beck.”

  She shrugged. “Most of the time I am in mommy mode, and I’ve never had to go from mommy mode to sex mode,” she chuckled.

  “Well, it’s high time you learned to make the transition,” I joked.

  Her beautiful white teeth bit down on her bottom lip.

  “Tell me what you want, Mela. It’s the biggest turn on to hear you say it.”

  I watched as she inhaled the deepest, longest breath, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I’d like to taste you again.” Her eyes fluttered away.

  With my index finger, I guided her chin back toward me. “What’s that mean?”

  Immediately, she pursed her lips.

  Leaning forward I took her hand in mine. “Let’s use your words, baby,” I said winking. She narrowed her eyes but didn’t pull away. “Say it, Mela.”

  Blood flushed her face. “Jackson,” she whispered. “I want to give you a blow job again.”

  A low chuckle rumbled through my chest.

  “Baby…just say it. You want to suck my cock.”

  She covered her face with her hands, but I pulled them away.

  “Mela. I want that too. But I have to ask, why did you not do that with your husband?

  Her brows pulled together.

  “He knew I struggled. He knew that sex was hard. He asked me to. I never wanted to. I feel guilty, Jackson. I feel guilty that he wanted that and for two years I couldn’t do it. But I did it for you after eight days. Isn’t that just awful?”

  When her chin quivered, I felt terrible. I didn’t want to distract her. I wanted to stay on course. I leaned forward, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “No, baby. It doesn’t make you awful. Several years had gone by. You’ve grown. You’ve healed. And honestly, I’d love to think that it had something to do with me… or with us.” I shrugged. “I bet Ian understood and forgave you because he loved you.” I tugged her hair lightly to make her look at me. “Mela. Listen to me.” Her eyes clung to mine. “I will never be willing to share you—except with him. And my guess is, he’d be happy that you found someone. And he’d be happy that you were healing. Ian will always be your angel in heaven and I can be your angel on earth.”

  Her hands took hold of mine and she squeezed. “Jackson, you coming here has changed so much for me. I don’t know what the future holds for me or for us, but my life will be forever changed because of you. I’m ready to live again. Thank you.”

  Softly I drew my finger down her beautiful face.

  “Mela. What would you say if I asked you to get on your knees?”

  It really wasn’t a request or even a suggestion. Her brown eyes widened at first but quickly fell to half-mast, desire filling their depths.

  She swallowed as she squatted down, tucking her feet beneath her when she sat on the ground.

  I licked my lips and waited like a dog waiting for his favorite treat.

  “Is what I did last time, ok?”

  With two fingers, I lifted her chin. “You did it perfectly.”

  “It reminds me of her,” she admitted again.

  “It can be ours. This has nothing to do with her.”

  A single tear rolled down her cheek and she hurried to wipe it, but I blocked her arm, dabbing the tear with my knuckle.

  “I want to do this for you. For me. For us.” She arched her neck, opening her mouth as she freed my hard cock, reminding me of a young bird waiting for food from its mother. I’d be her food…her nourishment…her whatever she needed me to be. My head relaxed back as she inched me into her warm mouth.

  Her strokes were not aggressive. They were not quick. As I invaded her mouth, her hand stroked to meet the pace she set. Her brown eyes were open, watching what she was doing. And there was nothing I wanted more than to deposit my come in her throat. But, I wanted to be inside of her more. I wanted to love and relish her as brutally slow as she was enjoying me.

  I reached down and lifted under her arms bringing her to her feet. With her index finger, she wiped beneath her bottom lip.

  “Everything ok?” she asked, hesitatingly.

  I nodded. “Yes. I want you. And as much as I enjoy that, I need to be inside you.”

  From her tiptoes, she softly puckered. I eagerly brushed a kiss over her lips. Repeatedly. After a long, slow dance between our mouths—our tongues mingling, I swooped down and cradled her in my arms.

  This…this was going to be a first for me. Last week, I’d fucked her. Tonight, I was going to make love to her. That word scared me just a little bit. Even as I laid her on the bed, a part of me wanted to say “I love you”—to make her hesitations or reservations or insecurities go away—but I opted for showing her instead.

  After I unbuttoned her jeans, she worked them over her hips. Her white lace panties nearly glowed in the dark against her bronze skin. Her solid, fit body took my breath away. God, I wanted her to be mine.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered.

  Her hooded eyes simply stared at me.

  I hooked her panties with my thumbs, pulled them down and dropped them next to her jeans the
n yanked my shirt off. I’d tucked my cock back in my boxer briefs, but Jesus, it was going to burst through the material if I didn’t unleash it. As I watched her blouse go up and over her head, her hair cascaded over her shoulders beautifully.

  When she scooted to the edge of the bed, her fingertips grazed over my healing gash. There was going to be one hell of a scar. The injured skin was still tender to the touch and though I tried not to, I still flinched. Her hands cupped my hips bones and she tugged me closer so that she could brush her lips over the raised, pink skin. She released several soft kisses over the length of the scarred tissue.

  “Super sexy, eh?” I asked, trying to take away the awkwardness of this disgusting mark.

  “Shhh,” she shushed me. “It means you endured the pain.”

  Suddenly it hit me that she’d never finished telling me about the scars on her wrists. I wanted to know.

  Her eyes fluttered up to mine—I knew if I told her about my pain, she’d understand. I needed to tell her everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. God, I hope it wasn’t too late.

  Unexpectedly, she reached for my waistband. The pressure against the cotton briefs was ridiculous. I’d intentionally not worn Armani boxers—she’d been hung up on those. As she inched them over my hips and down my legs, my cock plopped right near her face. She stared at it. She studied it once again. Then surprising me, she kissed the tip. Kissed it. Fuck, she was adorable.

  When her tongue traced around the head, I about lost it. My balls tightened up next to my body.

  “Trust me, you will finish that way soon. But, I need you now, ok?”

  My words seemed to extract the air from her lungs.

  “Please, I need that too,” she said as I unfastened her bra, freeing her breasts. She slid back on the bed, keeping her legs together.

  “Spread your legs, Mela. I like to see what I’m going to taste.”

  Surprising me, she crossed her ankles, refusing me with a slight smirk.

  “Trust me, you will finish that way soon. But I need you inside of me.” She parroted my exact words back at me…mocking me. I grinned.

  “All right,” I said in a low tone… then took her ankles and yanked them apart. “I have to deal with geographical distance and being away from you and I will. I have to deal with you not quite trusting me and I will. I won’t deal with you keeping your pussy from me. As long as you want me, Mela, it’s mine, do you understand?”