by Erica Lynn
Jackson said nothing as he kicked the blanket off, his erection still standing proudly in his pants. “Take off your shorts.”
Gigi hooked her thumbs in the top of her shorts, then paused, unease creeping into her brain.
“It’s not too late to stop,” Jackson said, reading her mind. “We can stop this right now and go to sleep. Wake up tomorrow like it never even happened. I know you’re worried about Dallas. I know you’re rethinking everything we talked about. If you want to stop this, I won’t be mad at you. Hell, I couldn’t be mad at you if I fucking tried.”
She took in his words, and she knew he meant every one of them. Jackson wasn’t one to bullshit someone. If he said something, he damn well meant it.
She pushed the shorts over her hips and ass, then down her thighs, and finally kicked them off.
“After I had my fill of looking at that pretty pussy of yours, I’d tell you to spread your legs.” Jackson palmed his cock through his pants, giving it a squeeze. “Spread your legs, Gigi.”
Gigi did as she was told, her thighs shaking as she lowered them.
“Farther.”
She let them fall all the way open, letting out a breathy moan when the air hit her center.
“Gigi?”
“Y…yes?”
“You aren’t wearing panties.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “I never wear panties with shorts like these.”
Jackson cursed under his breath, giving his cock another squeeze. “You mean to tell me for four months, every time I watched you shimmy around the house in those fucking barely-there shorts, your pussy was just beneath them? With nothing in-between?”
“Every. Time.” Gigi’s hand made a slow trail down her stomach, on top of her mound, to—
“Don’t you dare touch that pussy until I tell you to.”
She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down and relishing in the slight sting as she balled her hand up and moved it away from her sex. “Fine, but you take off your pants.”
“Are you suddenly in charge here?”
“I’m always in charge,” Gigi countered. “Even when I let you think you are.”
Jackson grinned, and fuck was his grin sexy.
Gigi squirmed again, the ache in her core becoming damn near unbearable. “Pull your pants down so I can see your cock, otherwise this is over.”
“Oh yeah? You’ll just go to sleep in your current condition. I call bullshit.”
“I didn’t say that,” Gigi drawled. “I’ll pull the covers up, get myself off, and then go to sleep. Without you watching. Without you hearing my moans. You’ll just stay over there, knowing where my fingers are, what they’re doing, why my sleeping bag is moving back and forth.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Jackson growled. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then stripped his pants down his legs.
Gigi gasped as his cock, hard and thick, bounced back toward his stomach. “Okay, so I’m on my hands and knees in front of you, my cock-tease shorts ripped in half and on the floor. What happens now?”
“Now?” Jackson chuckled, but it sounded forced. Strained. “Now I rub my hands up the backs of your thighs, and then I palm that ass of yours. I knead the flesh with my fingers, watch as your wetness starts to creep out from your pussy. Watch it drip out.”
“Like now?”
“Fuck, Gigi. You’re going to kill me.” Jackson began to slowly stroke his erection. “Are you that wet already, baby?”
“I think so.” Gigi’s hips came off the ground of their own accord, circling, begging for Jackson to grab them.
“Find out for me. Reach down there and feel how wet your pussy is for me. But, baby…”
Gigi looked back at him, struggling to keep her eyes open through the lust ravaging her body. “Yes?”
“Look at me when you do it. I want to see your eyes when you make that first pass over your clit, pretending it’s me, instead.”
Gigi nodded, then, eyes fixed on his, walked her fingers down her stomach, over her mound, and finally, through her folds. “Oh, fuck…”
“Tell me,” he growled as he continued to stroke his cock. “Tell me how wet you are for me, Gigi. I have to know.”
“It’s leaking onto my thighs,” Gigi answered, her fingers slowly massaging her now sopping wet pussy. “Keep talking. Tell me what you’d do.”
“First I’d eat your pussy,” Jackson said, his pumps becoming a little quicker. “And I don’t mean I’d give it a couple licks and call it a fucking day. I mean I’d worship your pussy. I’d massage it, lap at your clit, suck it, bite it.”
“I want you to,” Gigi barely managed to croak out.
“Yeah, baby? Tell me how. I want to do it perfect for you. How do you want me to go down on that sweet little pussy of yours?”
“Like you said,” Gigi began, slipping two fingers inside her wet heat. “And then I want you to put your tongue inside me.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jackson grunted. “Want me to fuck your tight pussy with my tongue?”
“Yes,” Gigi moaned. “Over and over. And I want you to use your thumb and make small circles on my clit. And just when I’m about to come…” Gigi’s back arched again, her thighs shaking, her heart pounding, the adrenaline of her oncoming orgasm rushing through her veins.
“Tell me. Now, Gigi. Tell me.”
“When I’m about to come…I want you…I want you to pull my clit into your mouth and suck on it while I…while I…” she threw her free hand over her mouth to muffle her moans as she came.
“Open your eyes,” Jackson demanded.
Gigi immediately snapped her eyes open, watching him as her orgasm ripped through her. “You want me to suck on your clit while you come in my mouth, baby? Lap at you with my tongue so I can drink up all your juices?”
“Yes,” she choked out. “Yes, yes, yeeeees.”
She furiously worked her clit with her fingers as she came, her back arched off the ground, her eyes pleading with Jackson to come fill her. When her fingers slowed, when she finally came back down, she let her hand fall to her side, her eyes fixated on Jackson, still stroking his cock.
“We’re not done, babe.”
Gigi let out a breathy laugh, her heart still racing.
“After I make you come on my tongue, I’m going to slip my cock inside you, but first, I need to know what you taste like.”
“What?” Gigi wasn’t sure what to do. If he came close to her, if he even thought about coming by her, it would be over. He’d be fucking her in a heartbeat, and as explicit as this had been, she couldn’t sleep with him. Not yet.
“Slide your fingers through your pussy, get them nice and wet, and then tell me what they taste like.”
Gigi’s sex tingled at his words. “You’re quite filthy, aren’t you, Jackson Mirales?”
“You have no idea,” he said, grinning. “Now do it, and don’t make me tell you again.”
Chapter 6
Jackson watched as Gigi’s smile faltered just the tiniest of bits. Shit. Maybe he’d gone too far. He thought she’d be willing, she seemed so fearless, and fuck if he didn’t dream of seeing her slide her wet fingers into her mouth, but he didn’t want her to feel forced or pressured into doing something she didn’t want to do. “If you don’t want to—”
“You want me to, though, don’t you?”
“Only if it’s something you want to do. If you’re not interested, we move on.”
Gigi’s breasts continued to rise and fall with her heavy breathing, and he was tempted to ask her to take her shirt off, but he refrained from doing so. Even now, as he’d watched her finger herself, he couldn’t actually see her pussy. The day he saw her naked body, actually saw it up close and personal, he wanted to be able to touch her. To kiss her. To taste her.
She gave him a dangerous, sexy-as-fuck smirk, and dropped her hand down to her pussy, and arched her back as she let out a soft moan. She then brought her fingers to her mouth, her lips falling open sligh
tly, and one by one, sucked herself off.
Jackson felt his cock get harder in his hand. “How do you taste?
“Sweet. Slightly tart.” Gigi ran her tongue over her lips, then pulled her bottom one into her mouth. “Perfect.”
He felt precum slide down his shaft, and he used it to better imagine sliding into her wet heat.
“After you eat my pussy from behind—” Gigi began, surprising the hell out of him “—I’d tell you to get on your back, and then I’d straddle you.”
He watched as she turned onto her stomach, pushing herself up a little bit on her knees, her hand between her thighs. “You want to ride me, baby?”
“Yes,” she moaned, her hips bucking back and forth as she slowly began to grind on top of her hand. “I’d slip that thick cock of yours inside my tight pussy, and I’d grind myself on top of you.”
Jackson began to pump his hips up and down as he stroked himself. “Fuck, babe. Just the idea of you on top of me, your tits bouncing, your mouth open as you moan my name…”
“You squeezing my breasts. Pinching my nipples…”
“Yes. Do it. Pinch your nipples, baby. Pretend it’s me. Imagine it’s me making you feel so damn good.”
He watched in awe as Gigi reached beneath her shirt with her free hand, both frustrated and so fucking turned on that he couldn’t see what she was doing. Could only imagine it. Imagine her slender fingers around her nipple, pinching and twisting it until she felt it deep inside her pussy.
She brought her hand back out and moved it beneath her pillow, then laid down on the side of her face. She stared at him as her hands thrusted between her legs, her mouth open in an O, her eyes hazy and almost closed from the pleasure. “What are you imagining?” she asked.
“Your pussy,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“Mmm. What’s my pussy like?”
“Slick. Hot. Tight. So tight it’s milking the fuck out of my cock. Our flesh is wet, so it’s making a slapping sound each time I pump into you. Each time you slide down on me, taking me all the way in.”
Jackson’s strokes became jerked, fevered, and desperate as he raced for his release. “I’m about to come, Gigi.”
“Me, too,” she moaned, her own movements becoming less fluid. “Tell me you want me,” she whispered.
Jackson looked at her, his heart on fire for her, his body needing her. “I want you. I’ll always want you. I—” he broke off as his orgasm overcame him. He felt it in every part of his body, and he kept stroking himself as Gigi found hers. Strained to keep his eyes open through his pleasure, so he could watch her enjoy hers.
They both lay there afterward, panting, satiated, and oddly enough, not the least bit awkward.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered.
“You’re going to make me blush,” Gigi giggled. She stared at him, then. But it was more than a simple look or glance. It was like she saw into him. Into a place nobody else ever had. One he, perhaps, had kept guarded from anyone else. “Don’t go to Dallas.”
“Gigi—”
“Wait, just listen.” She grabbed the covers and threw them over herself, pulling them up to her chin. “I like you. I—”
“I like you, too.”
“Jackson…”
“I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing his shirt from the side and wiping off his stomach and chest.
“I like you. You like me. We started this without having any idea something would happen, but it has. That can’t be a coincidence. It has to mean something. Don’t you think?”
“Of course I think it does. I just don’t understand what that has to do with me moving to Dallas.” Jackson swallowed the lump in his throat. How had one of the hottest moments of his life so quickly turned into the most hellish? “I want to be able to give you the answer you want. And we don’t even know if I won, yet.”
“Of course you’ll win.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but we don’t know anything.” He tossed the dirty shirt to the side, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Can we shelve this for now? Please.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” Gigi rolled onto her side. Away from him.
“Not forever, okay? I’m just saying, let’s talk about this when there’s something concrete to actually talk about.”
“Right. I understand.”
Jackson wanted to say more. Something, hell, anything, to make it okay. To make her smile again the way she had been just a few moments ago. “Gigi—”
“Goodnight. We have an early morning. I’m sure you’ll want to get some nice pictures of the sunrise, so you need to get some sleep. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. Jackson knew she wasn’t fine, but he also knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He grabbed his blanket and tossed it on himself, turned over, and closed his eyes. Fuck.
Chapter 7
The next few days went by in a blur of work and putting in the extra effort to avoid Jackson. Luckily he made himself scarce, working a lot at his studio, which gave Gigi plenty of time to lose herself in her art. She’d painted every night since they’d gotten back, a few nights until one or two in the morning, but she was onto something. What she was working on now had no plan. No rhythm. She’d started with a blank canvas, some black, red, purple, and blue paint, and now it was becoming…something. She didn’t want to get too excited about it, didn’t want to think about what it should or shouldn’t be. She just wanted to let it happen. She found she worked best when she simply dipped the brushes and let the paints do the rest.
She stretched her arms over her head and groaned. As much as she loved getting to stay up late and paint, she usually regretted it the next day. She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the time and date on her computer. It was Thursday morning, and she was already ready to go home.
She stood and went to the kitchen. With any luck she’d be able to find a muffin or something in the fridge. She opened the door and dug inside, the cool air making her skin break out in goosebumps. She got excited for a moment when she thought she found a yogurt tucked away in the back, but when she took it out and looked at it, she found it was expired by a good six months. “People are disgusting,” she said to no one in particular.
“Aren’t you in a pleasant mood this morning?”
Gigi turned and saw a smiling Stassi enter the breakroom with—thank the Lord above—breakfast tacos. “You’re a saint,” Gigi said, rubbing her hands together as she looked at the food.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Stassi chuckled, setting them down and then turning to grab some paper plates from the cabinet.
“Please, please, pretty please tell me there’s chorizo ones in there.”
Stassi rolled her eyes and dug two out from the bottom with G’s written on the paper, then handed them to Gigi, along with a plate.
Gigi unwrapped them and sat in the chair, ravenously biting into one. “Sorry,” she giggled, her hand over her mouth so Stassi wouldn’t have to witness the taco’s destruction.
“Hey, you’re hungry. Don’t mind me.”
She swallowed her bite, then looked up at Stassi. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“A private one.”
Stassi emptied a taco onto her plate, then sat down across from Gigi. “Of course.”
“Do you think Jackson has real feelings for me?”
Stassi grabbed some salsa from the bag and a spoon, giving Gigi one of the most give me a break faces she’d ever seen. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Gigi shook her head, then took another bite of her food.
“For fuck’s sake,” Stassi said. “I don’t know how you can be so blind sometimes. Gigi, he’s nuts about you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Even Alec said so the other night when we were camping.”
“Alec said what?” Lacey asked, walking in and grabbing a plate. “Yes. Tacos.”
“Yours have L’s on them,” she told Lacey.<
br />
“Just egg and cheese?”
“Yeppers,” Stassi said. She waited for Lacey to sit down, then continued their conversation. “I was telling Gigi how Alec said he can tell Jackson is head over heels for her.”
“Well, duh. He wants to marry her.” Lacey took a bite of her taco and made no effort to hide her delight.
Gigi shot a look at Stassi, who simply wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, giving her the slightest of nods.
“Obviously,” Stassi continued. “But more than that, Alec said he’s been around Jackson a long time, and Jackson is always more on the quiet side. A loner. Not uptight, but a little…guarded.” She turned to Gigi, sincerity radiating off her face. “He said around you there’s a lightness to him. You know his dad wasn’t a good man, so I think he grew up having to be on the defense. With you, he lets all that go.”
“What did happen with his dad?” Lacey asked. “I know he was an alcoholic, but I don’t know more than that.”
“That’s about all I know,” Gigi admitted. “It’s why Jackson doesn’t drink. He says he knows that stuff’s in his blood, and he doesn’t want to feed it. He’s terrified of turning into him.”
“Do you think that’s why he’s so driven with his photography?” Stassi asked. “Why he’s determined to go to Dallas if he wins the contest?”
“Wait…what? Dallas? You’re moving to Dallas?” Lacey asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“Thanks for that,” Gigi muttered.
“Shit, Gigi, I’m sorry.”
“Okay, hold the front door,” Lacey said. “How the hell did Stassi know about this and I didn’t?”
Gigi shot Stassi a look, to which Stassi mouthed I’m really sorry back. “We aren’t moving anywhere,” Gigi said to Lacey. “It’s only if he’s the winner. Yes, he’s in the finals, but we don’t know anything yet, and we aren’t going to get ahead of ourselves. We’ll talk about it all once the time comes. Okay?”