Reclaim: (A Redemption Novel)

by Marley Valentine

  “I don’t know. I just can’t help myself. I always root for the underdog.” So much truth in such a simple statement--my whole adult life has been defined by that particular choice.

  Coming up behind me, Jagger snakes his arms around my stomach. “The underdog, huh? Is that how I got the girl?”

  “What girl?” I ask, playing dumb.

  He spins the rotating stool. “You’re my girl, right?” Sitting here in front of his daughter, his words bleed vulnerability.

  “I don’t know; Dakota, am I his girl?” Surprised by my decision to include her, his smile is something I wish was more permanent and less of an accessory.

  “Will you watch all five Twilight movies with her?” She calls over my shoulder.

  “There’s five of them?” His eyes dart between the two of us, trying to work out our scheming. “Of course,” he chuffs, finally catching on. “Better yet, I’ll watch it with both my girls.”

  “Oh Dad, I don’t really think you know what you signed up for.” She heads for the living room and fiddles with the remote controls. “You also have to watch all eight Harry Potter’s and then, only then, will Emerson be your girl.”

  Raising my eyebrows in amusement, I smirk at Dakota’s sassiness. “I think the queen has spoken.”

  “Does it count if I read the books?”

  I’m sure Dakota and I look like two cartoon characters with their mouths hanging open in surprise. “You read Harry Potter?”

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I had a lot of time to kill.”

  “Oh my God, that is the coolest thing ever,” Dakota squeals.

  “Isn’t it?” If there was any doubt I was undeniably attracted to the six foot four wall of muscle that Jagger is, his admission to reading Harry Potter my have just set my body on fire.

  “I know that look,” he teases. He struts closer, lowering his voice so Dakota doesn’t hear. “I didn’t know guys reading did that for you.”

  Slipping my hands inside his back pockets, I pull him toward me. “Not guys. Just one.”

  His eyes flick between Dakota and me. “I’ll have to remember that for later,” he whispers. He captures my lips in one swift movement, giving me the smallest preview of what’s to come. He breaks the kiss, his smirk sinful. “Sorry, I’ve got a date with the whole Twilight collection. I’m trying get the girl.”

  “I don’t think he passed the test.” Dakota looks down at her dad, spread out on the couch, asleep, and snoring loudly. “You can’t get the girl if you fall asleep.”

  “He looks so peaceful though, and finding out about Harry Potter definitely makes up for the sleeping,” I point out, defending his efforts.

  “Can you believe he read Harry Potter?” Her face lights up with pride. “My dad, enjoying the same things as me, is pretty cool.”

  “Has it been good having him home?” I wait patiently to see if she’ll answer, or whether I’ve overstepped an invisible line.

  “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” she reveals cautiously. “I was nervous, but the more time we spend together, the more I realise we’re the same. We like the same things and find the same things funny.” The innocence in her response is heart-stopping. To be worried about whether you would get along, as opposed to why he was away, or what that did to her family, is the true definition of unconditional love.

  “He ate a lot of popcorn though, and he’s a terrible sharer,” she adds, pulling me out of my musings.

  “That’s true. Next time we have a bowl each.”

  “I like the sound of next time.”

  We both stare at the man sprawled out in front of us, his continued presence significant to two very different relationships.

  “Thanks for tonight Emerson, I really enjoyed your company.”

  “No, there’s nothing to thank me for. You’re the one who let me crash daddy-daughter night.”

  “I’m going to head off to bed. I’m really tired.” She leans forward, kissing her dad on his forehead. “Night, dad.”

  He stirs, slowly adjusting his eyes to his surroundings. “Shit,” he groans. “I fell asleep.”

  “Emerson already told me she’s upset with you,” Dakota taunts. “You’ll have to beg for her forgiveness.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Is that right? And are you mad too?”

  “No. I’m going to go to bed, but tomorrow there will be a quiz on what you watched.”

  He chuckles. “I can’t wait. Let me come and tuck you in.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back.”

  “Take your time.”

  “Bye Emerson.” Dakota waves at me as she walks away, and I return the gesture. Picking up the empty bowls and glasses, I head to the kitchen and add the dishes to the dishwasher.

  I hear his footsteps before I see him. “Thank you for spending time with her.” His lips skim the length of my shoulder. “She really enjoyed herself.”

  Angling my head, I give his mouth room to roam. ”It was my pleasure.”

  “Stay over.”

  “Is that a question or an order?” Every weekend has been a test, trying to fight the urge to take the plunge.

  “Whichever one gives me the thing I want most.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, coyly.

  “You,” he says, his fingers sinking into my torso, and his thick erection pressing into my lower back. “All of you.”

  Spinning me around he wastes no time with words, kissing me with frantic need. His hunger and thirst for me is borderline savage, and I couldn’t tame him if I tried. His tongue invades my mouth, and I welcome the onslaught.

  Abruptly he stops. “I can’t do this.”

  My lips pulsate from the pressure of his kisses, and I whimper at the loss of contact. “What’s wrong?”

  “I want to take it slow, Em. I want to worship every inch of your fucking body.” His voice cracks. He’s barely hanging on by a thread.

  “Listen to me,” I demand. “I know what you’re up against. I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been without. I want to give myself to you in all the ways you want me.” Standing on my tiptoes, I hold his jaw and bring his ear near my mouth. “So, stop overthinking it and fuck me like you mean it, Jagger. Because we’ve got forever for fairytales.”

  His body coils at my invitation. His eyes blaze, my words lighting him up in flames. He literally throws me over his shoulder, and I cover my mouth to stop my squeal from waking up the rest of the house. It takes less then three steps to reach his room where he drops me onto the bed and stares at me with wonder.

  Reaching for the bottom of my tank, I raise it over my head and throw it on the floor. Only my lace bra stops my breasts from spilling over.

  “I spent twelve fucking years in this fantasy, and nothing I conjured up could’ve prepared me for you.” He pulls his shirt over his head, and my hands itch to trace every cut, every dip. I hook my fingers into my waistband, but his hands stop me. “This part’s all mine.”

  The thick denim scratches the length of my legs, while my panties follow suit. His eyes trail every new inch of my exposed skin. Dropping the clothes to the floor, his eyes zero on my naked, but noticeably wet centre. A visible confession of my arousal.

  “You’re wet.”

  “What can I say? Your girl’s been waiting.”

  “Fucking tease,” he growls. Kneeling in front of the bed, he drags me to the edge of the mattress. “Legs over my shoulders.”

  His demands have my body quivering, every nerve ending on high alert. His wide, calloused hands grip my outer thighs, while he sprinkles kisses on his way to my centre. Open and bare, I’m high on the anticipation of his touch.

  His tongue takes its first swipe, and a united moan ricochets off the walls. Moving in circles around my clit, he teases with an alternate dance of sucking and flicking. Gripping his hair, I rock against his face for friction; the wetness from his mouth soothing the burn from his stubble.

  “Fuck,” I cry out. “I’m so close.”

 
; He doesn’t come up for air. A man on a mission, he inhales my scent and ravages my pussy, as I climb higher and higher, ready to fall. With one last swipe of desperation, my legs tighten around his head and my orgasm shudders through me.

  Jagger releases his hold on me, and I lay there listless and languid. Rising, he shucks off his pants in lightning speed. He grabs my thighs and rams his thick, hard cock inside of me. My body still jerking with mini spasms from my release, his raw and deep intrusion has me unexpectedly tumbling into an abyss of pleasure all over again.

  “Fuck, your tight.”

  His thrusts start off slow, but he picks up the pace quickly. I watch the chords in his neck strain with every push, and his eyes roll into the back of his head the deeper he goes.

  The art of words is lost between us, a mixture of moans and grunts the only proof of animalistic pleasure. Digging the heels of my feet into his arse, I meet him stroke for stroke and let him fuck his demons out on me. His thumb finds my clit, and his eyes trail across my skin. Together, we chase the inevitable--forgetting about all the things before us, and not worrying about anything after. Tangled in pleasure, pain, and everything in between; he takes and I give. He gives and I take. I’m consumed by him. His touch, his kiss, his smile, and his tears. Jagger Michaels is everything I didn’t know I wanted.

  16

  Jagger

  I wake up two minutes before my alarm, switching it off before it wakes Emerson. Wrapped up in my black sheets, her naked body is like a beacon in the middle of my bed, calling to me. After last night, Emerson passed out in exhaustion, and I followed. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so peacefully.

  With both of us finding many reasons for why we shouldn’t be together, I thank the universe neither of us have listened. Even though I don’t deserve her--ot now, not ever--I can’t see myself letting her go. In fact, I’m certain I’m falling head over heels, which means there’s only two ways this could really go. Together we can blossom, or together we burn. Choosing not to think of the latter, I remind myself to only indulge in thoughts of the here and now. And right now I’m in a bed with a woman whose body fits perfectly with mine. Hard, soft, fast, slow. Emerson Lane was made for me.

  I wrap myself around her like a vine, my hands kissing her skin. One cupping her breast, the other resting on her stomach. My dick nestled comfortably on the seam of her arse.

  “Mmmmm,” she moans. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s time for your Jagger Michaels’ fairytale.”

  She turns in my arms, throwing her leg over my angled body, spreading herself wide. “Can, I kiss my prince?” she asks.

  My hand slides down to her pussy, my fingers caressing her clit. “I’m not a prince, baby.” I purposefully hold off on using pressure, knowing the light touches will drive her wild. “I’m a fucking pauper.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you were the devil himself, I’d still want you.” Her hips move, begging for friction that isn’t there.

  Kissing below her ear, I suck her earlobe into my mouth. She mewls in desperation and I rub her a little faster. “That better, baby?”

  “More,” she pants.

  Slipping between her folds, my fingers make their way inside her. Wet and slick, she coats my fingers with every thrust, undulating against me. Surprising me, her hand circles my shaft. I hiss as my cock fucks her hand, and she furiously fucks my fingers. Putting pressure on her bundle of nerves, like a detonator it pushes her to the limit until she shatter in my arms. “Put me inside you,” I order, wanting to feel the remnants of her orgasm around me. Swapping my fingers for my cock, I bring them to her mouth and slip them inside. She tastes herself, and I taste her. Licking the inside of her lips, my tongue reaps the rewards, devouring the exquisite blend of my two favourite places: her pussy and her mouth.

  Her eyes are hooded, clouded with lust, while I’m trying to control the urge to move hard and fast. Instead, my thrusts are long, slow and deep.

  After last night her body may never forget me, but after this morning I want to make sure her heart never does.

  I hook my arm under her leg, pushing it against her body. Together we pick up the pace, our breathing laboured, the noise of our skin slapping growing louder with every thrust. Lowering my head to her tit, I circle her taut nipple with my tongue, and then graze it with my teeth.

  “Harder, Jagger, please,” she begs. Her desperation has me wanting to climb inside her.

  At her request, everything becomes more needy, more feral. The mixture of her moans and whimpers stirs me on.

  “I can’t get enough of you, Em. It doesn’t matter if it’s fast or slow. It’s never enough.”

  Licking and sucking my way up to her mouth, I tattoo myself on her skin the only way I know how. She’s like a canvas, red and marked.

  “Oh God. Jagger, I’m so close.” We rock, harder and faster, while our kiss obliterates all reason and rhyme. Ready to explode, my fingers stroke her clit.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Together we jump. Together we fall.

  With Emerson I feel like I’m on borrowed time. Like all good things must come to an end.

  Whispering in her ear, I lay my claim on the only thing I’ve ever wanted. “I’m going to find you in the next life too.”

  Staying in for Friday night football, Hendrix and I have a much needed guy’s night with beers and bets while we watch our team destroy the opposition.

  ‘Pizza for dinner?” he asks me at half time.

  “Yep. Pepperoni, and can you add stuffed crust to it?”

  He nods, already on the phone waiting to place the order.

  So, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” Finishing off the phone call, he sits on the recliner opposite me. “I’m thinking of packing up and living overseas for six months. What do you think?”

  Don’t go. “What brought this on?”

  “A lot of things. Namely, Sasha.”

  “Is it that bad you need to move countries for it, though?” I’m skeptical that this could be the answer to all his problems, worried he’d only be running and then returning to the same thing.

  “It’s the only way I can do it. Out of sight, out of mind. Otherwise, she’s everywhere I turn.” Rising, he starts to pace across the room. “I was never going to leave until you came out, but now you’re here, and everything is better than I could’ve hoped for... They’re your family, Jagger, and I’m ready to give them back.” His voice cracks at the end, the reality of what he’s said hitting us both for different reasons.

  “Drix, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of them for me, and I’m sorry it got so complicated.”

  “You have nothing to thank me for, bro. I would do it all again for you.”

  Taking a moment, I hide my head in my hands and thank anyone who will listen for giving me Hendrix as a brother.

  “So, what did I miss between you and Sasha that seems to be irreversible?”

  “Honestly, it’s been fifteen years of nothing but heartache and disappointment. We hate each other, we love each other, and then we hate each other again, and I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to feel guilty for being happy without her, when she doesn’t want to be happy with me.”

  I’m frustrated for Drix. He isn’t a man of many words, and I know he’s reached his absolute limit. “Bro, I feel like this is my fault.”

  “What’s with you, man? Just because you went to jail doesn’t mean I’m going to blame you for every fucked up thing in my life. There are things I can blame you for and I did at the time. But now Sasha and I need to take responsibility for our actions. We only see the worst in one another, and we’re missing out on life fleeting past us.”

  “So, you’re just going to leave?” I clarify.

  “It’s not like it’s happening tomorrow.”

  “And Dakota?” I drop her name selfishly, because as much as he’s happy to give my family back, my family includes him.


  “I’ll miss her the most, but she’s hooked up on social media, and so am I. There won’t be time for us to miss one another.”

  Processing it all, I know anything other than support is selfish, but it doesn’t mean him leaving won’t sting. He has put his life on hold for me, and it’s taken its toll. If he needs something in return, I won’t hesitate to give it back.

  The doorbell rings, the delivery guy announcing his arrival and giving us a small reprieve from our conversation.

  ‘“Your cool to eat out of the box, yeah?” He asks, handing me my pizza.

  I don’t even bother answering, eating my first slice in silence instead.

  “Off topic,” he blurts. ”Do you think you can ask Emerson if there’s anyway to can get around your Working With Children’s Check?”

  “I’ve already looked into it,” I say, surprising him. “Don’t be so shocked it’s not the first or the last time we’ve had the same thought.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “Well, if I only had drug convictions then they would overlook it, but grievous bodily harm by criminal negligence, better yet against a child. My child. They’re not willing to give me any privileges.”

  “But you can volunteer?” he says sarcastically, irritated by the government’s logic.

  “They write it down as community service hours,” I remind him.

  “Can’t you show them proof of your positive relationship with Dakota now?” He’s persistent, and I know eventually I’ll have to get Emerson to tell him to let it go. “What about her quick recovery and no permanent damages?”

  “Drix, I don’t want to piss anyone off and get the few good things I have going for me right now taken away. Not to mention having to make Sasha relive that.” His face twists, probably remembering the way she was that night. “When I got carted off in the police car, I was frantically trying to find out what happened to Dakota. And they wouldn’t tell me.” My jaw clenches at the memory. “For days, they hung that phone call like fucking fish bait, keeping all their cards close to their chest. For all I knew, that bullet perforated an artery and she was dead.”