“I need you, little bunny. I need to be inside you. I need to know you’re still all mine,” he groans.
My breath hitches and I look into his eyes, seeing exactly what means. He needs this physical moment to know for sure that I am staying with him, that I am not running. He needs me to show him that I want him as much as he wants me.
“Yes, please,” I whimper.
Jackson quickly strips me of my clothes and then his own. He pauses as soon as his boxers fall to the floor, his eyes focused on my spread thighs. I give him a shy smile and watch as he bites his lower lip. Crawling toward me, he stops to gaze closely at my newly bared flesh.
“What did you do here, little bunny?” his voice is playful and I am glad that the seriousness of just a few moments ago is gone.
“It was Libby and Amalie,” I say, pressing my eyes closed in embarrassment.
“Remind me to send them chocolates and flowers… no, on second thought, remind me to send them jewelry.”
“So you like it then?” I ask running my fingers through his hair. His head pops up and his black eyes glimmer for a moment. Then he takes one long swipe with his tongue through my entire core before kissing my clit.
“I fucking love it, babe. And if I didn’t need to be inside of you so badly right now, I would show you by making you come with my tongue.”
A shiver passes through me as he slides his length deep inside of my body in one long, slow, fluid motion.
Jackson doesn’t fuck me hard. Instead, he slowly eases in and out of me, his eyes never leaving mine. His arms wrap around me tightly, one arm around my waist, the other tangled in my hair. His natural scent, combined with the whiskey he consumed, surround me as he slowly buries himself inside of me over and over.
I feel myself slowly climbing toward my release and quietly cry out his name as I come, my body taut and pulsing around him. It doesn’t take much longer for Jackson to come with a moan. He stays planted deep in my core, his lips lightly covering my neck as he peppers me with his kisses.
“No running from me, Marguerite. I couldn’t handle it,” he whispers before he slides out of me and rolls to his back, taking me with him.
I wrap myself around his body and catch my breath, listening to his soft snores. Jackson falls asleep immediately and I find myself battling my exhaustion from the day. My urge to run is still there and it is taking everything inside of me to fight it - but I have to. I run. It’s what I do. I ran from Vegas. I wanted to run from Sammy, too many times to count. He had me scared into submission, so I stayed. But the urge was always there.
The phone rings again, and again. After the fourth ring I almost hang up when I finally hear his voice.
“Why couldn’t you answer your phone, Sammy? I was worried about you,” I cry.
It had been his first stretch of games away from me. I had missed him and he didn’t call me until the next afternoon. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t have called me after his game.
“Maggs, you can’t be so damn needy. I have to keep my head in the game. I can’t think about your needy ass all the way back in the city. Get a fucking hobby or something,” he yells. He is so angry and I don’t understand why.
“I just thought you’d call me after the game, that’s all.” I try not to let him know I am crying, but inside I am screaming out in pain. Sammy is being so cruel.
“If you want to know, the guys and I went out partying - we always do. We stayed out all night long and got drunk,” he admits. I blink and take a deep breath, terrified to ask the next question.
“What… what about women?”
“Are you asking me if I fucked someone else?”
I cringe at his language. I am so shy and I hate that word, it sounds so dirty and brutal. I don’t respond. Instead, I wait. Sammy lets out a breath, almost a sigh, before he speaks again.
“Listen Maggs, you can’t get upset if I’m out of town and don’t call you. I’m there to practice, play ball, and then let off steam. You need to be at home and taking care of things here so that when I’m on break, I can focus on just you.”
I smile to myself and hang up, feeling like I have all the answers I need, even if he hadn’t said the words. I feel like he is completely faithful to me.
I sit straight up, my body soaked with sweat. Avoidance, Sammy’s favorite pastime. Now I am dreaming about the past and it makes me sick. I hadn’t wanted to date a pro-ball player again for this exact reason. Now, here’s Jackson, doing it to me again – repeating the cycle. Only this time he’s in town instead of out of town.
How stupid does he think I am? With Sammy, I played dumb, meek, and agreeable, all the while my spirit was being crushed over and over again until it was a fine dust. I have picked myself up and, somewhere between him dying, and now have pieced myself back together again. I won’t let my spirit be crushed into dust ever again. I am not going to put up with a man mistreating me in any way.
I don’t care how hot he is or how hard he makes me come.
“You okay, babe?” Jackson sits up next to me and I look over to him. My anger and insecurities from my dream melt away at the sight of his messed up hair.
“Bad dream.”
“Come, lie back down,” he murmurs. I do, but I don’t cuddle into him like I did before.
I want to run again and I wonder if this urge will ever completely go away?
After my dream and everything that happened tonight, I’m on edge. Jackson doesn’t let me curl away from him, though. It’s as if he feels like I need his closeness as he wraps his body around mine, his warmth encasing me and holding me, giving me silent support.
WATCHING HER WAS EASY. SHE was beautiful and naturally submissive by nature. I had been hoping to simply woo her and disappear with her. It would have been as simple as taking candy from an innocent babe, and it wouldn’t have been his first time accomplishing the task. Then she had to go and get skittish, leaving me for the ball player.
Smirking, I think about how simple it had been to find out all of her information. Silvia, the receptionist at the club, was nothing but a whore; she would spread for any man. Once I had sweetened the deal with a few sugary words and a new handbag, the slut had spilled all that glorious classified information like a little songbird.
It was a pity I had to eliminate her. She was one of the few women that had been so eager to please, bending over and spreading that ass for my cock. Surely her body was being used happily by Cedro and his boys; she was probably wishing she had never met me by this point. I made a note to check up on her and her lovely ass in the next few weeks. Maybe I would force her to pleasure my little Marguerite Emma. What a sight that would be. My cock hardened as I envisioned holding Marguerite Emma down while Silvia licked her cunt.
A woman had never outright turned him down before and it pissed me off. I would make a shining example of what happened to little girls who tried to control their own lives. Silly little girls. I would make that asshole Jackson Lexington pay, too.
Nothing was off the table. I was going to make a boatload of cash when I forced Lexington to lose the Series. I knew how well the Yankees were doing this season - they would surely make it all the way to the Series, and then they would lose, ensuring that he made fucking millions.
They were all going to suffer for rejecting me.
Little Marguerite Emma Rogers would soon cease to exist and fucktoy would emerge in her place - at my feet, where she fucking belonged.
I spied a girl walking out of a bar. She was trashed; totally and completely annihilated. Sauntering in her direction, I noted when she noticed me. Her mouth parted slightly and she swayed a bit more. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the side of her throat before whispering deep and low in her ear.
“Want to come home with me gorgeous?”
The girl whimpered, her wide eyes focused completely on mine, like the good girl I knew she could be.
“I don’t… I’ve never done anything like this before,” she admitted. I doubte
d her words were one hundred percent truthful, but it wouldn’t matter. She would be screaming for him soon enough.
I gathered her to my side and hailed a taxi-cab. She would be beautiful strapped down to my table, beaten black and blue, and crying for me. I shivered at the thought. I couldn’t wait. The taste of this new morsel would do until I could get my Marguerite Emma to trade places.
Amalie’s laughing so hard, I can hardly understand her words. It is good to hear her laugh and to laugh myself. I have been sending her selfies of outfits for my date tonight while doing silly things, which makes her burst into laughter. I laugh because she is laughing and then we both laugh like looney people together. It is nice. I tell Amalie everything, all about Jackson and Adam going to the club the night before. I tell her how I want to run, but Jackson forced me to stay. He knows I‘m not excited about his brother still staying with us after that, so tonight we are going out just the two of us.
“I agree that things moved fast for you, but I am also a firm believer of when it’s right, it’s right, and it seems right with you two,” Amalie informs me.
I chuckle, “well, I don’t know about the rest, but I do know that the sex is right,” I admit, making Amalie giggle. She then tells me to wear the sexy cream dress I picked out, saying it makes me look naked so it’s definitely the winner. I roll my eyes, but she’s right; I feel sexiest in the barely there, almost skin toned dress.
After my shower, I pull the little scrap of fabric over my body and squirm at the sight of all my bare flesh on display. The dress is a creamy champagne color, low-cut in the front and the back, leaving absolutely nothing hidden. I slide into a pair of pale pink high heels and fill a bright turquoise clutch with a few essentials. I leave my long hair down and keep my makeup light. I don’t need anymore drama with a heavily made up face; the dress is dramatic enough.
At seven on the dot, there is a knock on the bedroom door. Jackson is standing in front of me in a pair of dark slacks, leather loafers, and a light blue button up shirt; the last of which looks like it’s about to burst at the seams, he fills it so completely.
“Ready, gorgeous?” he asks, his dark eyes smoldering as they roam over my body. Shivers run up and down my spine at his perusal.
“Yeah,” I sigh. He grins, wrapping his hand around mine before pulling me toward the elevators.
A date.
A real date with Jackson.
We haven’t done this since we first met and I am so excited for the evening to begin.
The dinner is delicious and the conversation with Jackson is light and fun. The movie is good, but being cuddled next to Jackson is the best part of the evening so far.
We don’t talk too deeply about anything. Jackson finally, and without prodding, opens up and tells me about his family. His parents are still married, after thirty years, and it had been just him and his brother growing up. They were best friends but, somewhere between Jackson’s college baseball days and being immersed in his professional career, they have gone their separate ways. A few years ago, his brother started hanging around the wrong crowd and getting into trouble. The last time he did something illegal, it landed him in jail for six months. Jackson hoped that when Adam moved to New Jersey that he would clean up his act; unfortunately, now his brother is in some really deep shit.
“If he owes him that much money, does he want you to pay it back for him?” I ask after Jackson informs me that Adam owes over two million dollars to a very dangerous bookie.
“No. I already offered him the cash, told him he could come here and live and I’d help him out, but he doesn’t want that.” He sighs as we pull up to the apartment and looks at me with worry etched across his features.
“He’ll get it worked out,” I say softly, cupping his cheek as I run my thumb along his bottom lip. His tongue snakes out and touches my skin, making me shiver.
Together we walk toward the elevator and up to the apartment. Jackson unlocks the door and shuts it behind me as he pushes my back up against the door. His hands travels down my sides and then one of his hands cups my center.
“Jackson. Adam?” I moan rolling my hips against his hot hand, searching for more friction.
“I told him to disappear for the night. I’m going to fuck my woman in my house without reservation,” he growls. I shake at his words and try to reach for him, but he takes a step back from me and smirks.
“Take that dress off then I want you to crawl, on your hands and knees, over to those windows. I want to fuck you with the city behind you and the moonlight shining on your beautiful face.”
My whole body heats and I do exactly as he says. I pull the zipper of my dress down my back. The dress pools at my feet leaving me completely bare for him. I step out of it and then kick it to the side. I drop to my knees and I crawl across the span of his living area.
“First, I’m going to taste you while you look at the city below; then, I’m going to turn your pretty ass around and fuck you against the glass.”
I quake as his hands circle my waist and he turns me around, pressing my breasts to the cold glass. I gasp at the cool surface against my flesh and spread my thighs. Jackson quickly strips his clothes off behind me. I watch in the reflection of the glass to my right as his loafers, pants, tie and shirt are thrown behind him. Then he grabs his tie from the floor and walks up behind me, out of my sight. Jackson’s lips land on my shoulder, slowly travel down my back to just above my ass as he slides to his knees.
“Give me your hands, babe,” he orders, his breath against my ass cheek sending goose bumps over my skin.
I put my arms behind me and feel the cool satin of his tie wrapping around my wrists. He binds me tightly and yet, I’m comfortable all at the same time. My heart begins to race as I become aware of my helpless position – my hands bound, my vision blocked.
My legs quiver when I feel the long swipe of Jackson’s tongue between my thighs. He uses his shoulders to widen my stance, pushing himself forward as he sucks my clit into his mouth, lightly biting down on the sensitive nub. Jackson wraps his hands around the outside of my thighs and stabilizes my body above him. I close my eyes and just feel - I float. I am at his mercy, bound above him.
“Jackson,” I murmurs huskily, my voice deep and foreign sounding.
“Ride my face, babe. I want your come,” he breathes. My belly flips before I comply with his order.
Moments later, I am grinding his mouth unabashedly as his tongue circles my clit and his fingers fill me two at a time, pumping in and out of my body. My chest and cheek are pressed against the glass for stability, while one of Jackson’s hands is wrapped around my thigh. I am riding him with everything I have searching for my sweet release. I throw my head back and cry out his name as I do exactly as he wishes, coming all over his face.
Jackson doesn’t just leave me a heaping mess against the window. Instead, he kisses up my stomach to each of my breasts, tugging at my hardened nipples with his teeth. He then kisses my lips, his tongue filling my mouth and swirling inside of me as his hands unbind my wrists. Once I am free, he picks me up by my thighs and turns me around, crashing my back against the glass as his cock fills me with one, long, hard stroke.
Looping my arms around his shoulders, I dig my nails into his flesh as my legs tighten around his lean waist. Jackson thrusts in and out of my body at a hard, fast, punishing pace and I relish in his loss of control.
That familiar high, that floating sensation, envelopes me and I accept everything. His lips touch the base of my throat before he bites down on the tender flesh and sucks hard, hard enough that I know I’ll probably have a trashy hickey by morning. I don’t even care. One of Jackson’s hands slowly caresses my body - my hip, my thigh, my waist, my breast - a total contradiction to his hard punishing invasions.
I moan as I feel myself ascending, my body careening toward my second release. I cry out his name as I come undone around him, my pussy pulsing with pleasure and my nails digging into the skin at his back. Jackson does
n’t stop crashing his hips against mine, his fingers digging into the flesh of my ass while his other hand pins me to the glass window – my ass on display for the world to see.
“Fucking shit, babe. Your pussy feels so good,” Jackson moans, swiveling his hips and grinding hard against my clit. I gasp at the feeling, so sensitive from coming a second time. I don’t know how much more of this man I can take.
My fingers sink into his hair as my lips crash against his. I tease him with my tongue, begging for entrance. He tastes like a mixture of our scents and I moan as I slip my tongue inside of his waiting mouth. A few moments later Jackson stills, his body pressing my back even harder against the glass, his lips wrenching away from mine. With a sexy as fuck groan, he fills me with his release, his cock twitching deep inside of me.
“Every time, every single fucking time. Your pussy only gets better,” he sighs, his lips lightly touching the corner of my mouth. Slowly, he kisses a trail down my jaw, along my neck, and back up again, placing a chaste kiss on my bruised lips.
Jackson carries me toward the bedroom, his semi-hard cock still joining us as one. I run my hands up and down his muscular back and relish in the feeling of his bunched muscles beneath my hands. I love having a moment of free reign with his body, it doesn’t happen often so I am enjoying it.
“Let’s clean up and you can suck my cock for a while,” he suggests, sending me into a fit of giggles. I take one look at his face, and my amusement dies just as quickly as it came. He is completely serious. His eyes are burning into me, heating me from head to toe and inside and out.
“Okay,” I whisper, sliding off of his body.
We take a short shower, cleaning each other off before we head to bed. I make Jackson come with my mouth and he returns the favor, again. We spend some time using our bodies to come once more before we promptly pass out, wrapped in each other’s arms.
It is the best date that I have ever been on.
I AM SITTING AT A game surrounded by my friends and Jackson’s brother, Adam, waiting for Jackson to step up to the plate. They are tied and this is a big game; a victory will decide if the Yankees make it to the playoffs or not. We are all nervous wrecks. Even Alana and Carrie are keeping their venom to themselves for once. I look over at Victoria and see that she is a bright shade of chartreuse, chewing on her nail, sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting for Carlos to hit the ball.
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