“I spent a lot of time trying to decide if I wanted another famous, hotshot husband - one who would likely cheat again and leave me alone, again. I decided Jackson was worth whatever risk I may or may not encounter because he is nothing like my deceased husband,” I say, getting it all out. It’s the truth, or as much as I would tell another person.
“I figured we could at least wait until after dinner for this topic to arise, dad,” Jackson spits, but Mr. Lexington doesn’t even glance in his direction; his focus is on me and it is completely terrifying.
“You love my boy then?” he booms. I take a step back, his voice so loud that it rattles me.
“I do, very much so,” I say, melting into Jackson’s side and he slides his strong arm around my waist.
“Then, welcome to my home. I’m Richard, by the way. No, you may not call me Dick,” he says with a grin. Jackson lets out a bark of laughter and I join him, the tension easing a bit.
We are all smiles as we make our way toward the dining room table. The table is full of what I can only describe as mom food, or what I have always envisioned mom food to be, warm and comforting.
Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans and rolls line the center of the table. I inhale the spicy aroma and think of my own mother. She would never make this. She would throw a can of Spaghetti-o’s at me and tell me to get my lazy fat ass in the kitchen and make it for my guests.
“Come sit down, babe,” Jackson whispers. I tear my eyes away from the food, bringing my gaze up to meet his before sitting down in the chair he offers me.
“So Jackson, what the fuck happened mid-season? Your britches get too big and you choke?”
I actually do choke on my bite of mashed potato at Richard’s question. Dorothy doesn’t say a word, she just looks down at her hands in what I can only guess is nervousness.
“Already, dad? You couldn’t wait until dessert? First you corner my woman, making ludicrous accusations, and now you criticize my playing? I was off, okay? Maggie and I had a fight, because I was a prick, and I was off my game,” he confesses truthfully. I gulp down some water, gaping at Jackson. I can’t believe he’s saying this to his father.
“What did I teach you, son? You never let a pussy affect your game? What’s between one woman’s legs is between them all. If one pisses you off, you go find another. It ain’t a hard fuckin’ concept.”
My eyes widen at his words. I cannot believe Jackson’s father is saying these things to him, and with me sitting right here. Jackson takes his napkin off of his lap and throws it down in the middle of his plate before he stands. I look up at him as he offers his hand to me.
Part of me wants to tell him to sit down and eat dinner with his parents, but the other part of me wants to get the hell out of here before these two men end up in a fist fight. I take his hand and stand next to him, my silent support for my man.
“Mom, the dinner was great and we’ll come by sometime tomorrow. Right now, it’s time for us to go.” Dorothy nods once but doesn’t make eye contact with any of us. It makes my heart ache. She was so excited for us to be here and she went to all of this trouble.
“Sit your fuckin’ ass down, boy. Did I hurt your pansy-ass feelings?”
Jackson shakes his head and looks at his father, cold, dead, black eyes glaring at the man who made him.
“You are disrespectful. You not only disrespected me, but my girlfriend and my mother. People don’t say shit like that and they especially don’t say it over the dinner table. I’m a grown ass man now, dad. I don’t have to take your bullshit as I sit back and grit my teeth. I can just fucking leave,” he says calmly.
Jackson doesn’t say another word before he’s pulling me toward the front door. Behind us, I hear his father yelling and the soft murmurs of his mother, but Jacksons is done, beyond done, and we are in the car and on the road toward the hotel in the blink of an eye.
“Now you see why I hardly ever come home?” Jackson asks. It’s been over an hour since we left his parents. Now, I’m propped up against him as we soak in the bathtub.
When we left his parents place, he didn’t say a word - nothing. We sat in silence until we reached the hotel. Even as we unpacked our bags, we still said absolutely, nothing. I didn’t want to poke the bear, so I quietly got settled and started a bath only to have Jackson join me as soon as I sank down into the warm bubbles.
“Your father is harsh, but I think he means well,” I say softly. Jackson laughs.
“Only you would say he means well, bunny.” Jackson slides his hands up the outside of my thighs and lets them drift between my legs, spreading me wide. One hand slowly roams up my stomach toward my chest to cup my breast while his fingers gently slide between the soapy folds between my legs.
“At least he cares somewhat. I haven’t spoken to my father in twenty years,” I sigh as Jackson plucks at my nipples.
“He has always been so controlling,” he mutters. Jackson’s fingers don’t stop their sweet assault on my body. I reach behind me and wrap my hand around the back of his neck.
“Forget for a while, Jackson and be with me,” I murmur, and he does.
Jackson orders me to my knees and I hiss as the cool air of the room kisses my back and ass, my front still dipped into the warm bath water. I feel his palm slide from the curve above my ass, over my spine, and up to my shoulder as he slowly wraps his fingers around my neck. I twist my head slightly and look back at him. His face is serious, his lips pressed tightly together, and his body so still he looks like a mannequin.
“Wrap your hands around the edge of the tub,” His voice is tight and rough. He is on edge.
I lift my arms, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the gorgeous claw foot tub. Jackson hums at the deep arch to my back, my ass and core tipped even more for his taking.
“I’ll try to be fairly easy with you, babe, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Take what you need, Jackson.”
Jackson doesn’t plunge deep inside of me like I anticipate and brace myself for. He slides into my body so slowly and I let out a groan from deep inside of my chest - it doesn’t even sound like me. I can feel every centimeter of his hard length entering me. It feels as though he is imprinting himself inside of me. Jackson has been a part of me since the moment we met, but right now, in this moment, I feel as though we are melting into one soul, one person, and one being.
Jackson leisurely rocks in and out of me with slow and deliberate strokes. His hand tightens slightly around my neck, his lips attached to my shoulder. I feel his tongue slide out and lick from my shoulder to my ear before he tugs on the flesh of my lobe. I am panting and holding onto the side of the tub so tightly, my knuckles are white. I wonder if I am strong enough to take off chunks of porcelain with my bare hands.
“Jackson, please,” I cry out, unable to take his slow-paced rocking.
I need it hard and fast.
I need more.
“Hush. You get what I give you, Marguerite.” His stern voice vibrates through me and I try to relax as he slowly tortures my body.
I relax my neck, bowing my head and letting his strong hands hold me up. Jackson’s fingers dig into the flesh of my hip as he continuously takes me slow. His lips are behind my ear, pressing kisses every so often, and then his back is off of me and his power and strength is completely before me.
“Do you know how fucking gorgeous your pussy is, taking my cock? A perfect fit every time. I’ll never get tired of watching you take me, ever,” he moans. I pinch my eyes closed at the pressure building inside of me, a pressure I know will not go away until Jackson decides it’s allowed to.
“Do you love me, Maggie?” He asks. I open my mouth to answer, but Jackson’s hand tightens on my throat as his other hand slides down and his fingers press against my clit.
“Answer me or I won’t let you come,” he growls. I whimper at the thought of being this tightly wound for even a moment longer.
“I love you, Jackson, so much,” I rasp. I�
��m rewarded when Jackson’s fingers lightly tap my clit, while his other hand tightens and releases around my throat over and over, matching his cock’s slow steady rhythm.
The sensations are overwhelming. There is too much happening around me and to me. I cry out with my first wave of pleasure, my body stone still, but Jackson doesn’t stop. He continues his ministrations as my body thrums beneath him, my mind hazy. I feel light headed from the lack of oxygen.
“Prepare, baby,” Jackson warns. Suddenly, his hand is gone from around my throat and his fingers are buried in my hair, pulling my head back, his other hand clamped around my shoulder for leverage.
Jackson starts pounding in and out of in and out of me with vigorous strokes and raw power. My body feels like Jell-O, but I hold onto the tub as he continues – taking me for his pleasure, using me for his needs, just the way I urged him too.
I feel like I’m high. My mind floating in the clouds when he stills. His cock grows inside of me and then I feel the rush of his release. My body, unable to hold itself up for another second, sags toward the water. but Jackson catches me around my waist, sliding out of me as he pulls me into his chest. With my back against him, he lies back inside of the tub.
The rising and falling of his chest with his quick breaths matches my own panting. I lean into him, melting into his arms as he wraps around me, his lips pressed against my temple.
“So perfect,” he says softly, nuzzling my neck, making me giggle as he tickles me with his nose.
I sigh, content with the warmth around me. Jackson is my warmth. Not just physically, but emotionally – he is my warmth. I haven’t had a person so warm and loving in my life, before. It feels great to have him here. I only hope that he feels the same way about me.
Eventually, we make it out of the tub and crawl into bed before we both promptly pass out in each other’s arms. I have never felt as cherished, even in my sleep, than I do when I’m with Jackson. He is present in my mind and my body - touching me lovingly, kissing me constantly or just holding me. It’s perfection.
IT HAS BEEN TWO WEEKS since Jackson and I visited with his parents, and I can’t help but replay the lunch that we had with just Dorothy, his mother, the day after the dinner disaster. Dorothy was so upset that we left. She wanted to apologize for Richard’s behavior by having us over while he was at work the next day.
“My Richard, he just wants what’s best for his boys,” she began when Jackson walked outside to take a phone call from Detective Brody about his brother.
“Has he always been so harsh?” I asked, trying not to be a bitch. Honestly, though what he said was crass and rude.
“He didn’t want them to settle. The boys may not understand why he was always so strict with them, but he wanted more for them than the life we have led. Richard and I struggled, we still struggle, and he didn’t want his boys to struggle a day in their adult lives. He pushed Jackson when he discovered his talents on the field. I urged him not to push so hard but Richard is a very strong minded man and he was adamant that baseball would be the only way Jackson would succeed.
“He wasn’t wrong, was he? Jackson is supremely successful. I have no doubt his father’s insistence for practice, and drilling into his head about not getting too tangled up with one girl, is the reason for his successes.”
I looked at her, really looked at her and realized she’s half right and half demented. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. It struck me that we’re all just a little messed up, some more than others, and Dorothy isn’t about to change. If she thinks she did something fantastic with Jackson, who am I to tell her otherwise? Jackson is fantastic and possibly the best man I have ever met, but he is not without his issues; issues that he shouldn’t have to have; Issues that could have easily been avoided by having a loving and caring father to guide him through life.
I don’t think that I will ever make somebody like Dorothy see the injustice she and her husband forced on their children. They feel that because Jackson is successful, they succeeded as parents.
I sigh and look over to Amalie. She is bouncing Axel on her leg while the manicurist gives her the evil eye for moving around too much during her pedicure. Amalie is everything I would have wanted in a mother and Jarrod is just as doting on their sweet boy, making me ache for the moments Jackson never experienced with his own father. Babies have been on my mind a lot these past few weeks. Maybe it is because Jackson and I are still new and we haven’t discussed whether or not he wants children, but I have that feeling of hope and longing again.
“I love summer, but when they start training again, Jarrod turns into a total pain in my ass,” Amalie sighs, blowing on Axel’s tummy, making him squeal in delight.
“Jackson has been moody, too,” I admit. I look over to Libby to get her take on Pete, but she’s busy staring at her phone, like it will start spouting off words of wisdom.
“Is everything all right, Libby?” Victoria asks, pursing her lips in obvious disapproval.
“Yes,” she answers without looking up. Victoria looks to Amalie and I, for what I can only assume is help. but we just shrug our shoulders in unison.
For months, I have had a strange feeling that something is wrong with Libby. Every time I ask her if she is okay, she just shrugs me off and crack a joke. I hope that whatever is bothering her is fixed soon. Libby is such a funny and happy person, I can’t imagine what could have her so upset.
“How was meeting Jackson’s parents?” Victoria asks, changing the subject but never taking her eyes away from Libby.
“Interesting… his father is very… well, he wishes that Jackson were solely focused on his career instead of dating, at all.” Victoria nods and finally looks at me.
“Carlos’ father was that way for a while. We married young and it was a big fuck you to his dad. He eventually got over it, though, and now I’m closer to his family than I am my own. Give it time and show him that you aren’t’ going to distract him from his job. Men have to see it to believe it. Words don’t hold much weight on stuff like that.” I gawk at Victoria. This is the most I have ever heard her speak. Usually, she stays quiet or throws an offhanded, one-liner comment; but I find that the words she says weigh on me. She’s right. She is absolutely correct - Richard won’t believe that I’ll be anything but a distraction until I prove otherwise. I can make Jackson happy, I know I can.
The rest of the day I push thoughts of Jackson’s family from my head and enjoy the afternoon with my girlfriends. Right after our pedicures, Amalie drops Axel off with her brother, Niklas, for what she calls “guy time.” Though, he’s a baby, so I’m not sure it truly counts. I think Amalie just wants a few hours to enjoy dinner without a squirmy baby on her lap. Axel is growing and wants to explore everything now. By the time we meet Paul and David for dinner and drinks, I’m exhausted, shopped out, and extremely happy.
“Jackson calling,” I cry out with a giggle. I take a sip from my mojito before answering the call.
“Jacks,” I giggle into the phone. Jesus, I haven’t giggled so much since I was a little girl.
“You’re drunk,” he deadpans. For some reason, that’s the funniest thing on earth. I start laughing again, the table joining in my delight as giggle and laughter abound.
“I am… I so totally am,” I admit. Jackson chuckles.
“Where you at, bunny? I’ll come get you,” he says softly. I sigh at his nickname for me.
“We’re at Per Se in Columbus Circle.”
“Stay right there, I’m on my way,” he orders. I giggle again before hanging up the phone and the girls stop and stare at me.
“What?”
“Well, what’d he say?” Libby slurs slightly.
“He said ‘stay right there, bunny, I’m on my way.’ he’s so totally gonna spank me tonight.” I grin before I hide my red face and David barks out a laugh.
“Spank you?” Amalie asks with a gleam in her eye.
“Bunny?” Libby breathes, her eyes all starry and dreamy.
“Yes, spank - Jackson is super kinky and he calls me bunny; say’s I remind him of a scared little bunny rabbit when he’s being extra kinky,” I say. I don’t know why I blurt it all out, but I do. I receive wide grins from everyone except Libby, who is frowning and chugging down her cocktail like its water.
“Oh, honey, we all know Jackson’s kinky. I’m just glad you’re joining him, after Sammy, you deserve to have some fun. Enjoy all that kink.” Amalie giggles and then gasps when Jarrod leans down to kiss her cheek.
“Time to go home, Smuk,” he murmurs, loud enough for all of us to hear.
“All right, sweet,” she says breathlessly.
We all watch, like little puppy dogs waiting for our bones, as Jarrod wraps his arm tightly around a tipsy Amalie and they slowly make their way toward the front door of the restaurant. We are all still staring at the door when Carlos struts in and makes a beeline for Victoria. She doesn’t even wait for him to reach our table before she’s up and bounding toward him. I watch as she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him over and over again, giggling when his hands wrap around her waist, careful not to squish her baby bump, tighter. She’s not even drunk, but she’s so in love it’s amazing to see.
“Is Pete showing up to get you, Libby?” David asks as he gathers his phone off of the table, depositing it into the pocket of his slacks.
“Uh, no. I’ll just take a cab,” she says quietly with a shrug. Paul and David share looks of concern.
“We’ll take you home, babe,” Paul offers and I watch in agony as Libby’s bottom lip wobbles and she nods, wiping a tear from her perfectly made up face.
“Libby…” Her eyes clash with mine and I see nothing but desperation and sadness fill her gorgeous features.
“Your sweetie is here,” she whispers with a wave of her hand. I look up and watch with my mouth agape as Jackson strides directly to me. He looks nowhere else and it makes my heart thump in my chest, he is that handsome. I chance a look back at Libby, but she’s all smiles and waves me off.
Catching Maggie Page 23