Neither of us said a word as he half carried, half dragged, me down the hall and out the back door to head over to his house. I couldn’t seem to get my legs, my mouth, or my brain to function normally. It was almost as if an invisible switch had been flipped inside my mind, shutting me off from the outside world. Once inside, he picked me up all the way and carried me into the bedroom, before depositing me on the edge of his bed. I didn’t look at him, I couldn’t. What would he say? Some weird freak was after me, and it was falling on his doorstep.
“What can I do, Maggie?” he asked, his eyes filled with half anger and half fear, for me.
“I need a bath,” I mumbled. Hot water was always a sure fire way to calm my nerves. For me, a bath was not only the cleansing of the body, it was also a good way to scrub out the grime that had built up in the soul. Right now, I needed scrubbing, the kind you used a brillo pad for.
“Eer, I don’t have a tub, Maggie. But we can take a shower?” he asked.
Nodding at him, I let him remove my robe and walk me to the bathroom. Standing in the middle of the floor, I tried not to let the tears that had built up escape, but I couldn’t control it. Four days of no orgasms had left me on edge, and then coming down from the high that only Jackson could deliver, only to have it be replaced by horror, left me emotionally vulnerable and physically exhausted.
Grabbing my hand, that had slithered around my waist trying to keep myself together, Jackson tugged until we were both standing under the hot spray. I hadn’t even noticed him get undressed. God, I was so messed up right now. A few months ago, I was just a sad fat girl who worked too much and loved her puppy at home. Now, I was being stalked by who the hell knows, and about to shower with the most gorgeous man to walk the planet, who actually cared for me. Stuff like this only happened on Soap Operas and in books.
As always, the scorching stream pummeling my body eased my tension, and warmed up the chill that had settled in my bones. For several minutes, Jackson and I just stood there, with his arms wrapped around my shoulders, pressing my body into his. His hands gliding up and down my back in a soothing, comforting way. It was something I hadn’t experienced since I was a child. It calmed my mind.
When my body finally relaxed, Jackson pulled away from me, and grabbed a washcloth from the side of the stall, while I stood with my arms at my side, my head pointed down, trying to hold on to the peace I felt in Jackson’s arms.
“Can I wash you, Maggie?” he asked, my head snapping up to meet his cautious eyes.
Even though we had done all manner of things together, including him fingering me in front of a crowd full of people less than an hour before, I was still hesitant. Washing someone was intimate, and deeply personal in my eyes, it was an act I had no intentions of taking lightly. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to, though. Jackson had a way of making me feel beautiful. I dropped my head again, not wanting him to see my wishy-washy thoughts.
The indecision on my face must have shown through, because Jackson dropped the washcloth and grabbed my chin lightly, forcing me to look back into his eyes. His look made my heart clench, his words smacking me in my broken soul.
“No matter what anyone says, Maggie. You are beautiful. Inside and out.”
My resolve crumbled, as I bent down to retrieve the cloth, and handed it to him without a second thought, my tears mixing with the hot water from the shower head. I loved him. I loved this man more than reason. I loved Jackson Hunter. When had it happened? I wasn’t sure, I just knew this kind of feeling, that stretched from the tip of my toes to the ends of every strand of hair, was bigger than me, and that, was saying something.
“Hey, hey. No more crying. I can stop if you want,” he said, a tinge of vulnerability clear in his words. My heart grew a little more.
“No, Jackson, please don’t stop,” I cried out, needing him more than anything else in that moment.
Lathering the rag, he started at my neck and washed his way down. His fingers grazed over my swollen nipples, causing me to shudder and grip the wall for support, and when he finally reached my nether regions, I gasped out as he cupped my sex with the rag and cleaned away the juices I had spilled for him. The juices I wanted to spill only for him.
He washed every inch of me with gentle hands, and the same soothing words over and over again. “No matter what anyone says, Maggie, you are beautiful. Inside and out.”
When the soap had been rinsed from my body, he turned me around and grabbed the shampoo. Squirting it in his hand, he applied it to my hair and massaged it into every strand. Closing my eyes, I lost myself in the sensations that Jackson was providing. I lost myself, as my heart took over and engulfed me in a bubble of love.
“I love the dye you put in your hair, Maggie. It suits you,” he said, his fingers working magic on my scalp. It felt as if he was literally pulling every bad and terrifying thought from my mind and washing it down the drain at our feet.
“Thank you, Sir,” I responded automatically.
“Jax. Call me Jax while we’re in this house,” he whispered, almost pleaded.
“Thank you, Jax,” I murmured.
I had never heard anyone refer to him by Jax, but I liked it. It fit him well.
“The only person allowed to call me that is Master Chase, and now, you,” he jokingly said, tugging on my hair a little, lightening the mood.
“It’s a great honor you bestow on me, Jax, and I’ll forever cherish it,” I joked back, turning around to face him, and to rinse the shampoo from my hair.
“God, Maggie. How did I ever get so lucky?” he said, his head bending down to take one of my nipples into his mouth, effectively pulling me from my funk, and flipping my invisible switch back on, to electrify every nerve ending, yet again.
“I do believe, Mr. Hunter, that I am the lucky one,” I moaned, while he continued sucking on each nipple feverishly, the hot water still spraying us.
We spent the next fifteen minutes touching and teasing, but never doing anything more. It felt like both of us just needed the contact, something to hold on to while we battled the storm raging in the outside world in the form of crazy stalkers, and the storm raging inside ourselves, with our own emotions.
I didn’t know if Jax loved me, but I knew he cared deeply. It was in the way he touched me, and they way he looked at me. His face was an open book when he wasn’t in Dom mode, and I imagined he was openly letting me read it. A man like Jackson didn’t open that door to people, but he was throwing it open and letting me in.
It was still fairly early in the evening when we tumbled into bed, and explored each other’s bodies in a way we hadn’t before. We weren’t fucking this time, we were making love, and even though I loved the experiences he had shown me over the past few weeks, nothing could compare to the way he pushed into me for the first time that night. It made me sound cliche, but I saw fireworks, the room around us blurred, and the only people left on the planet were Jax and me.
The pace was slow, tender, our bodies touching at every point they could, while he loomed over me. He kissed me deeply as he looked into me, into my soul. Our eyes said the words we both were too afraid to say aloud. And without fail, he continued his mantra to me. ‘No matter what anyone says, Maggie, you are beautiful. Inside and out.’
The orgasm that ripped through me was completely different than anything I had ever experienced before. Instead of starting in my womb, it seemed to start from my heart, expanding over me, filling me with a warmth I couldn’t describe. The chill in my bones, that I had been living with my entire life, were gone, replaced with a blinding fluorescent light that kept me burning hot, long after we had both come down from our mutual climaxes.
Lying in his arms, my world shifted, and fell into place. I hadn’t even known that it was off kilter until it righted itself in his embrace. The thought scared me a little. Yes, sexually, I had given Jax complete control, but emotionally, I still held on to what I could. He had the power to break me, and no matter how much I knew I loved him, until
he told me the same, I could never give up the remaining bit I had. I felt torn.
“Jax? Are you sleeping?” I whispered, needing to say something, but fearing his response.
“No, love. I’m just listening to the wheels spin in your head,” he laughed.
Turning over in his arms, I allowed him to drag me up against him in a tight hug. I wanted to tell him so badly, but I just couldn’t, I was still too fragile.
“Who do you think is sending me those flowers?” I asked, instead.
“I wish I knew, Maggie. I wish I knew. You trust me to keep you safe, right? I will protect you!” he almost shouted.
“I trust you, Jax. More than you know.”
“Thank you,” he said, “Thank you.”
The next morning, we both woke up in the same position we had fallen asleep in, his arms wrapped around me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept so soundly, or if I ever had before. I didn’t know if it was the stress of yesterday, the realization that I loved someone, or the beautiful love Jax and I had made, but I knew I wanted to wake up like this every morning, for as long as he’d have me.
“Good Morning, beautiful,” he smiled down at me.
“Good Morning, Jax,” I responded, giggling when his erection pressed into my stomach. “Seems someone else is awake as well.” I couldn’t help pointing out the obvious.
Before my sleep addled brain could register his movements, Jax was on his back and I was straddled on his hips, his heavy cock pressing against my ass, my hands balanced on his chest. Holy shit, I was on top of Jackson Hunter!
In the past, I hated being on top. I felt like I was going to crush the man underneath me, but strangely, I didn’t feel like that sitting here on top of Jax. I felt, empowered. I didn’t know if it was the loss of control every time Jackson and I came together that was making me bolder and feeling the need to claim some for myself, or if being in love made me do things I wouldn’t normally do, but I liked being exactly where I was.
Straightening myself and balancing my knees on the bed, I brushed my hair out of my face and slowly brought my hand down my body to cup my suddenly full breasts. Jax moved his hands to rest behind his head, content with watching the view. I didn’t know where my brazenness had come from, but I was determined to put on a little show for the man beneath me. If I couldn’t tell him I loved him, maybe I could show him.
Pinching my nipples, I rolled them around between my index finger and my thumb, and threw my head back to enjoy the pain and pleasure I was inflicting on myself. While my left hand continued it’s probing of my nipples, my right hand glided down my stomach until I reached the spot between my legs that could melt me into a puddle. Using only my middle finger, I stroked my clit softly, rubbing circles around it. I was already wet, and my breathing was quickly becoming labored. Each pinch of my nipple, and each stroke of my finger left me inching closer to my goal.
“Christ, Maggie, stop. I’m gonna blow all over your back. I need inside of you, now!”
Without another word, I lifted my hips, as he positioned his cock at my entrance, before slamming me down onto him. I immediately lifted back up with my knees until only the crown of his dick remained, before I plummeted back down again. It took me a minute to find my rhythm, but when I did, the feeling was exquisite. He was hitting parts inside me I didn’t even know existed.
“Your tits are so fucking hot, bouncing up and down like that. Keep going, Maggie, I’m not gonna last much longer.” Digging his fingers into my ass, he helped keep pace with my movements, guiding me up and down his shaft. “Play with yourself, my sweets, I want to feel your pussy clench around my dick.” he grunted, picking up speeds.
Without hesitation, I reached down to find my secret knot of nerves. Looking up at Jax, seeing the heated way he watched me, filled me with a feeling I couldn’t explain. With just two strokes from my fingers, I felt my world fall apart as I cried out Jackson’s name. My walls massaged his thrusting penis, coaxing the orgasm from him at the exact same time.
“Fuck, Maggie, Shit, yes!” he screamed, as he pounded into me one last time, and then stilled, his feet digging into the bed, and his pelvis arched up into me. Every ripple that coursed through him kept my own pleasure rolling through me, and I could no longer hold myself up anymore. Collapsing onto his chest, I inhaled the smell that would forever linger in my dreams. His body wash, mixed with sweat, was a heady combination, and one I’d never grow tired of.
“What the hell are you doing to me, woman!” Jackson panted.
“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Insatiable,” I countered.
“I do believe you’re mistaken, Miss Insatiable, you have been coming on to me.”
I snorted, I couldn’t help it. Seconds after a toe curling mutual spasm, here we were, cracking jokes about coming onto each other, literally and figuratively. “You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he murmured, his tone a complete one eighty from the joking manner it had been only seconds ago. “I love---your laugh.”
Wait! What?
My heart screamed at me to just say it. To scream it. Climb to the tallest mountain and shout it for everyone to hear. Luckily, my brain housed my common sense. ‘He said he loved your laugh, not you, moron’, it spat at me, immediately throwing me off of the cloud I had been lounging on in the sky.
“Hey,” Jax said, pulling me from my unpleasant thoughts. “Where did you go?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “Last nights events decided to bombard me, and it threw me off.”
I hated lying to him, but I wasn’t ready to give over my heart if I wasn’t getting a piece in return. It sounded like he was going to say it, and then chickened out. Either that, or my imagination was on overdrive today. In fact, over the past twenty-four hours, ever since my realization, I was starting to feel bi-polar. I think he loves me. Maybe he doesn’t love me. I want to tell him I love him. No, no, I can’t tell him. Between my back and forth brain and the man sending me crazed letters, Jackson might be checking me into the psyche ward.
Pulling me down to lay back beside him, he pet my hair, “We’ll find him, Maggie. I promise.”
I hoped he was right. I couldn’t take much more of the erratic mood swings.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jackson
It had been about three weeks since I had almost blurted out something I wasn’t ready to say. It had felt natural in the moment to just say the words. I love you, Maggie. But neither of us were ready for that step. It was too big, too daunting, especially with the events that were happening in our lives with the flower sender. I couldn’t even call him a “him” because he wasn’t a fucking man. He was a coward sissy boy who liked to torment women, who liked to torment my woman.
Over the course of the last few weeks, Maggie had received another dozen sets of flowers, all more vulgar, and threatening, than the last. It was getting to the point where she was staying with me every single night, because she was terrified to go home.
I didn’t mind her being there, in fact, I loved it. I hadn’t been too keen on the pup coming over with her, but she had insisted, and I couldn’t seem to tell her no. (At least not when she was in my house, I had no problem telling her no in the club). She had assured me that Faith was house trained, and well mannered, and for the most part, she had been correct. While both of us were at work, she would lock Faith in a large cage, and although I said I wouldn’t do it, I still came home a few times per day to take her out for a few minutes.
I had always wanted a dog, but I envisioned something a little bigger, a little manlier. A great dane or a saint bernard would have done the trick, but somehow, this little wisp of a dog had crawled into my heart and stayed there, similar to her owner. She took a shining to me as well, curling up behind my legs under the covers while I was wrapped around Maggie, and although I had told her in the most stern voice I could that she had to stay off the couch, when she did jump up, I couldn’t kick her off. I was turning into a Goddamn softy. Next thing I knew, I�
��d be holding perfumed pink poop bags to clean up after her. No! Hell no! I had to draw the line somewhere.
The last few weeks had been some of the best in my life. Every morning she woke before me, Maggie climbed on top of me, like some sort of sleep goddess, and rode me until we were both spent. It had become some sort of routine after the first time. If I woke up before her, I made it my mission to crawl under the blankets and try everything short of fucking her to bring her to orgasm without waking her. I had almost accomplished it once. She had come twice.
After our round of fun between the sheets, she’d hop in the shower while I made coffee or I’d shower and she’d do breakfast. It wasn’t something we did back and forth, one day her, and the next day me, it was just natural. There were days when it was clear she needed the hot water to fortify her defenses, and on those days, she went first. Some days, she would see in my eyes that I needed a pick me up and she’d put on her robe, kiss me on the cheek, and waltz into the kitchen.
The ease of our relationship was fucking terrifying, and also, serene. It was almost as if we had been doing it for years, not just a few days. I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying her in my home and in my bed, but mostly, she was in my heart.
We got together for lunch a few times close to her work, since she only had an hour and my house was almost forty five minutes away. If I wasn’t too busy with club business, I’d trek out to her and take her somewhere nice. She had wanted to pay our first outing, but I had shut that down immediately. She hadn’t been happy, and I thought for sure we were about to have our first fight.
“Jackson, you can’t pay for everything. This is 2016, for Christ’s sake. Let me pay!” her harsh whisper echoed around us.
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