Upon arrival, a small smile crossed my lips. Jackson’s mother’s place was small, simple. It looked like all the other middle class townhouses I’d seen over the years.
The entrance brought us into an open concept lower level, a bright living room with clean lines and nice artwork on the wall. I took a closer look at one I believed I’d seen sold as prints. This one was in oils, on canvas.
“I recognize this one.” I informed Jackson, pointing at the paintings.
“It’s one of my favorites.” He confessed, walking up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. “Mom calls it INDIFFERENCE,” he snickered. “She painted it right after she left my father.”
“Your mom painted these?” I asked, noticing the same signature on most of the paintings on the walls.
“Yup, her hobby to release all that pent up aggressions from living with a man who lied and cheated.” His voice steadied.
He took my bag I left sitting by the door. “Let’s get your stuff put away.” He motioned for me to follow him.
I had to get this out of the way before I could commit myself any further into this relationship. I needed to see the real Jackson. To see if he actually was the man he had been behaving like around me this week.
“Jackson, am I here so you won’t have to explain your playroom?” As hard as I tried not to, my voice cracked.
His steely eyes bore through me. He knew exactly how I knew about his playroom.
“Yes.”
His breath became ragged, his expression hurt. Hurt because he was embarrassed, or hurt because he thought I was judging him?
“I’m not judging. Jackson, I want to get to know you, not the man you think I want to know. I know your reputation. I also know you’re more than your reputation. Please don’t feel like you have to hide anything from me.”
He closed the gap between us, his hot breath against my ear. “I told you, I didn’t want to flaunt my past in your face. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
He took my hand and lead me to the sofa. “Angel, I’m no saint. I bedded a lot of women. Some more adventurous than others. I have a room in my apartment I used for sex with those women. I have never brought them to my personal bedroom. I’ve only ever bedded them in the playroom. It’s just another bedroom. Nothing more. When the time comes to take you to my pretentious penthouse, you most definitely will be sharing my bed. Not some playroom. I promise never to play with your feelings, Angel. I love you.”
Three little word. That was all it took to clear the air from my lungs. To have me floating on air. Three little words.
“I love the week we spent together, Jackson. I’m falling in love with you. I just need time to see if I can fall in love with this side of you. I hope you understand?”
I knew that look. I had seen that look plastered on his face in all those tabloids. It was his I won’t let you see me hurt look. And I put it there. I hated that I put there.
I would hate myself more if I lied.
He got up and grabbed my bags. “Let’s get you settled.”
I followed him upstairs.
He gave me the grand tour. His mom’s room had an en suite. Jackson and I took up residence in the guest room. Sharing a bathroom at the end of the hall was in no way an inconvenience. We were the only two people staying here.
The kitchen had state of the art appliances and cookware. The refrigerator was stocked with everything and anything. I was going to enjoy cooking in this kitchen.
When we finally got my stuff stowed away and Jackson set me up with the wifi for my work, we headed off to bed.
The heat between us ignited the moment we hit the sheets. The sex was wild, vigorous, hot and naughty. I didn’t mind being naughty in the privacy of a bedroom. I made that abundantly clear to Jackson.
Every night for a week, after we got the insatiable lust taken care of, we made love. I woke up exhausted and invigorated each morning.
I hated the commute to my studio. It didn’t matter that Jackson’s driver took me anywhere I needed to go, it was still not as easy as crawling out bed and walking downstairs.
I missed the convenience of knowing if I had an epiphany, I could simply run downstairs and change something.
I was happy to be back in my own place, but I would miss not waking up with Jackson every morning. I already mourned the loss of his presence.
There was comfort in knowing I could reach for him, touch him, make love to him at any time during the night.
The past two weeks with Jackson had been the closest thing to domestic bliss I had ever experienced. Staying would've been too easy.
We agreed we could not let our relationship get in the way of our work. I avoided telling him I'd already turned down a job in order to spend one more weekend with him.
I gave him the name of photography studios which had apprenticeships and volunteered to do the interviews. I was sure he was going to want to replace his photographer before he accepts another client.
Coordinating our schedules, we only had two days during the week where one or both of us was not working late. I had back to back weddings on the weekend and the studio was booked solid.
Exhausted, I prepared for bed.
Preliminary prints were leaked to the press, the ones Jackson used for the island campaign, and it was making me a household name. Now might be a good time to transition into boudoir and burlesque.
I felt my face flush. I wondered how Jackson would feel about that. Maybe he could be my guinea pig. I closed my eyes and imagined pictures of Jackson’s half naked body sprawled across a bed.
Heat pooled between my pussy lips. I pressed my legs together, hoping to keep a stream of wetness from dripping down the inside of my thighs.
I realized I was going to have to rely on my electronic boyfriend to relieve the ache accumulating between my legs. It wouldn’t be as near satisfying.
Laying on my bed, my hand glided down into my boy shorts and felt the wetness. Stroking my clit, I knew it won't take me long to alleviate the growing tension building in my core.
I was torn out of half aroused state with a loud pounding on my door.
Looking through the peephole, I flung the door open.
I was immediately backed into my apartment. I found myself turned around and pinned to the closed door.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, his mouth claiming me like we hadn't touched in years, not mere hours.
Looks like my electronic boyfriend was getting the night off and Jackson would be getting me off.
Yay for me.
“Jackson,” I breath heavily, “you’re supposed to be house-sitting and pet sitting.”
“That, my love, is what a personal assistant is for,” he explained.
His large masculine hands kneaded the flesh of my ass, lifting me, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. Carrying me towards the bedroom, our mouths were glued to each other.
“Angel, I told you, I never want to wake up without you.” He panted heavily between kisses. “I don't care what I have to do to make it happen.”
I bounced as he tossed me on the bed. His eyes immediately focused on the pink object sitting near my pillow.
He took his time slowly crawling on to the bed, making his way up my body. He wrapped both my petite wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head.
Holding my attention with a mocking grin, he retrieved the pink object.
I suppressed a giggle that threatened to escape my lips.
Leaning against my ear, he teasingly growled, “Tsk, tsk, Angel, you weren't going to cheat on me, were you?”
“Is it cheating if the only reason I needed it was because I was imagining you, half naked on my bed?” I seductively purred.
His gaze narrowed, his stare needy, fiery, predatory. “Is that so?” He huffed gruffly.
I tugged my wrist free and guided his hand to my wetness, proving my point.
“I certainly can't argue with the proof right here in front of me now, can I?”
He hissed.
Worrying my bottom lip, I simply nodded.
He turned the toy on and ran its vibrating tip between my breasts. My nipples tightened, my back arched, reaching for his touch. My body was wretched with anticipation and need.
“Lower,” I demanded in a gravelly voice I didn't recognize as my own.
“Lower?” He repeated, chuckling.
He removed the vibrator and stepped off the bed.
What the fuck did he think he was doing? He came to me. He carried me to bed.
Surely he couldn't be jealous of my electronic boyfriend?
Chapter 26
Jackson
Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared up at me from her bed, where had I left her. Alone. Her body wrought with need. Her expression frustrated and annoyed.
She rolled over onto her stomach, pulling in her knees and arching her back. In feline fashion, she raised her body, her back facing me. Slowly and seductively, she reached for the hem of her tank top.
My mouth went dry and my already too-hard cock strained my jeans.
She glanced over her shoulder, puckered those perfect heart-shaped lips, and blew me a kiss.
Off came her tiny tank top.
Her fingers slid into the elastic of her boy shorts.
Then off they came.
She stretched out on the bed like a cat and rolled onto her back. Her hands made their way to her mound, fingering her clit and moaning my name.
“Jackson.” It was a whispered plea.
I forgot the point I was trying to make by withdrawing from her bed to begin with.
I pounced forward, replacing her fingers with the vibrating toy. Her screams were immediate and loud. Her thighs quivered as her pussy gushed. She was practically levitating off the bed from her orgasm.
The expression on her face as she came hard was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.
I wanted to see more.
She created a monster.
I increased the setting on the vibrator, careful not to remove it off her clit. I slid two fingers in her wet tight pussy and thrust hard and fast. Her throat would be raw tomorrow from screaming my name.
It amazed me that the neighbors were not banging on the wall, signifying for us to keep the noise down.
My mouth watered, yearning to feast on her sweet juices.
If I laid my head between her legs, I wouldn't be able to see her face when she came. To watch her pussy clench and coat my fingers with her womanly essence.
Watching the pleasure emanating from not just the expression on her face, but from her entire body had me ready to lose control.
I slowly withdrew my fingers then the vibrator. Her knuckles were white from clutching the comforter. I licked her through her orgasm, elated I was finally able to reward myself with the sweetness that belonged to my Angel.
Her hands gripped my shoulders, tugging on the fabric of my t-shirt. She was completely naked and I somehow managed to stay fully dressed. Her actions suggested she wanted me to reciprocate.
As I brought myself up on my knees, she followed suit. She unbuttoned my jeans while I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it aside.
Before I had the chance to reach and pull her into my arms, she’d made her way off the bed, pushed me on my back and relieved me of what was left of my clothing.
With a wicked smirk she reached for the vibrator. Nervous anticipation skyrocketed with her lustful eyes feasting on my naked body.
She wrapped her hand around my hard throbbing cock. Her soft velvety smooth hand stroked along every vein with long slow movement. I settled into the soft mattress, enjoying the sensation coursing through me.
She’d gotten under my skin, in my blood. She consumed my soul and controlled my heart. She had the power to crush me. I trusted her so fucking much. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her.
Nothing I wouldn't give her.
Her warm wet mouth covered the top of my cock. She swirled her tongue around my tip.
My hands pulled her hair back, allowing me to watch her crystal blue eyes glisten as she brought me pleasure.
My intentions to keep my eyes on her fell by the wayside the minute she took my cock into her soft wet mouth. Pumping, sucking, licking my head like a lollipop, my head fell back and my eyelids fluttered closed.
Then snapped open.
Why did she turn on the vibrator, and holy fuck what the hell was happening? It was my turn to wake the neighbors screaming her name.
I came hard and long, I was afraid I was going to blow off the back of her head. I’d often heard women say they saw fireworks during an orgasm. I now knew what that felt like. Fireworks from the most mind blowing orgasm of my life.
I may have actually passed out.
When I was finally coherent, I found Angelic laying beside me, licking her lips and smiling like the cat that ate the canary. She seemed very pleased with herself.
I was completely spent.
With feathery light touches, she traced the lines of the tattoo on my chest above my heart. She’d never mentioned or asked what it meant. Every other woman I’d been with had.
It was a separated heart with angel wings on the outside of one of them.
“Who broke your heart?” I was constantly asked. I always answered, “my heart's not broken, I’m waiting for my Angel to fill the hole separating them.” That statement was often follow with ahhs and a plea to be that Angel.
“I fucking love that toy.” I was deflecting, taking her mind off that tattoo. “Do you have any others?”
She laughed. “You have a room called the playroom and you haven’t used toys? Jackson, I’m so disappointed in you.”
“It started off as a joke, like the reference to my name. I would ask women if they would like to come play in my room. Next think I know, I own a playroom.” I rolled over and faced her. “You’re not the first to be disappointed to find out it’s simply a bedroom.”
“Is there anything else I should be aware of? Any other deep dark fetishes?” Her fingers continued to trace the outlines of my tattoos. She had made her way down to the one on my biceps.
Tattoos were supposed to have meaning. They represented a time, a person or a feeling.
Except for the one above my heart, mine were simply from getting shit faced drunk and picking some random picture from the art on the wall of the tattoo parlor.
Not a lot of depth there.
I pulled her in for slow long sensual kiss. “No more hidden fetishes. For me, at least. You?”
“That’s the only toy I own, for now. We could go shopping for some couples pleasure toys if you like.” Her grin was slightly sarcastic and very much curious to my response.
I cradled her to my chest. “I want to fulfill all your fantasies, Angel.”
“You already have, Jackson. Being here. Being with you. That’s my fantasy. My only fantasy.” Her needy sigh sent a shiver down my spine. I never wanted to let her go.
“I’ve rescheduled my overnight trip to coincide with your wedding shoot.” She needed to understand I was not willing to give up any more of our time together than absolutely necessary. “All my other appointments are in house. Some nights will run late, I hope you don’t mind me waking you up in the middle of the night?”
She smiled up at me. “I’m giving up wedding photography.” She put her hand over my mouth. “Before you say anything, I want to pursue more in house clients as well. Babies pictures are great, but it’s a limited market. I want to invest in boudoir and burlesque shoots. They bring in a more diverse clientele. I’m seeing my bank manager tomorrow, see what funds are available. I’ve priced equipment and I’m sure I can secure a loan to cover the cost.”
Her eyes went wide and the corners of her mouth rose. “I want to give you a key to my apartment.”
I knew giving up this little bit of control was a big step for her. Giving me a key to her place where I could invade her space any time, this was huge.
“This
means more to me than you can imagine.” With a sheepish grin, I told her I wanted to return the gesture. That was, if I could get her up to my penthouse.
I didn’t push the issue, she would come when she was ready.
I curled her into the crook of my arm and drifted off. Happy and sated.
The alarm on my cell went off, waking me from my restful slumber. I must have been exhausted after last nights sexcapades. I didn’t feel the bed shift when Angelic got up. I could smell the delicious aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she greeted me, smiling. Dressed in a simple cotton pink button up blouse paired with red capris, her hair was neatly tied in a high ponytail. She looked professional and ready to meet the day.
I wanted to strip her naked and carry her back to bed.
She stepped back and put her hand up. “Stop right there, I know that look, Jackson. Sit down, drink your coffee and don’t even think about what I know you’re thinking about. I have a very important appointment this morning.”
“Work?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Personal.” She didn’t elaborate.
“Too personal to discuss?” I was prying, not even trying to be subtle.
“My therapist. I haven’t had a nightmare in a while. I’m hoping to decrease my meds.” She took a deep breath, walked over and wrapped herself around me.
The vanilla scent of her shampoo had me hard and off balance. Whatever it was she wanted to tell me, whatever it was she wanted, it was hers. I was lost in her scent, her touch, her soft breath against my naked chest.
“I don’t want us to constantly be worrying about whether or not we have enough condoms lying around. If not the meds, than maybe I can see my OBGYN about other methods of birth control that the meds won’t interfere with.”
Was she worried about my reaction to her not wanting to use condoms? Fuck, this was best news ever. No more scurrying for my wallet or pants. Hell, if I wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her after breakfast, all the better.
Womanizer Heir (The Heirs Book 4) Page 15