Watching her come, making her come, finding his own pleasure in figuring out what she needed…he’d never felt anything like it.
Jackson used to command stages in front of packed stadiums, but he’d never felt more powerful than he had while making Kendall come apart in his arms.
But he didn’t have any power now. That belonged to Kendall in this moment.
“Look,” she said, reaching for his waistband, “I plan to pay you back…you know…orally.”
She actually blushed. He’d had his tongue inside her, she was straddling him, (the view was spectacular) and the mere mention of blowing him had her blushing. His girl, the same one who seemed so brazen when she was outside the bedroom, was shy in it.
Fucking adorable.
“But,” she went on, yanking his sweats off, “I need your cock, and I need it now.”
His mouth fell open. So much for his shy girl. Christ. Hearing those words fall from her perfect lips almost made him swallow his tongue. Then a thought occurred to him.
A terrible, awful, painful thought.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Protection?”
Eyes on his erection, she said, “I’m clean and on the pill.”
Yep. He definitely wasn’t surviving this. The thought of being inside her with nothing between them had him nearly jumping out of his skin with anticipation.
He swallowed hard. “I’m clean, too. And I’ve been celibate for so long I’m practically a born-again virgin at this point.”
She barked out a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad, because I have no intention of being gentle with you.”
“Thank fuck for that. Come here.”
He wrapped a hand around his cock as she raised up to her knees and positioned the tip between her legs. Then she sank down slowly, her eyes locked on his, taking him deep. Her hands squeezed his shoulders hard as she said, “Jackson, you have no idea how much I need this. Please, give it to me.”
His name on her lips as her wet heat gripped him like a vise effectively shut down what little remained of his brain function. His body took control. His hands moved of their own volition to her breasts. They were perfect—firm, round, just big enough to fill his hands. He leaned up and sucked on one taut peak.
Her back arched and her hips rocked. “Oh, God, yes.”
If she kept looking down at him like that, like she’d never felt anything as good as his cock inside her, like he was some kind of hero, this was going to be over tragically fast.
She needed to come again. Fast. Because he’d be damned if he was going to come before her.
He circled his tongue over her nipple, grabbed her hips, and thrust up inside her.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she murmured in a broken litany, grinding down on him, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. “You feel so good in me. I’ve never…ah, yes…I’ve never felt so full before.”
He sucked in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. “Fuck, Kendall, I swear, I wanted to take my time, do this right, but if you keep talking like that, looking and feeling like you do, I’m never going to last.”
She shifted her hands to his chest and ground down on him harder, making him groan in pure agony. “I don’t want you to last. I want to make you lose control like you made me lose control.” She threw her head back. “Yes. Right. There. Harder.”
Harder. Fuck, yeah. He couldn’t agree more.
Jackson didn’t hesitate to give her exactly what she needed. What they both needed. He thrust up into her harder, faster, deeper. More. Again and again.
That’s when she came, and—ah, God—she was beautiful. Eyes closed tight, plump, red lips parted on a moan, her wet heat clenching him in hard contractions he could feel…he was going to remember this moment forever.
But if he didn’t come soon, his heart was going to explode. Of that, he was certain.
So, he tightened his hold on her hips and worked her up and down on his cock (the view of her bouncing on him was fucking amazing, too) until he came with a feral growl and her body milked him of every drop he had to give.
When the last of the spasms stopped and his breathing slowly started to return to something resembling normal, he pulled her down so that she was splayed across his chest, her head resting against his heart.
He wasn’t sure how long they laid there, breathing in sync, his hands roaming up and down her back, her fingernails tracing a lazy path over his arm. But they wouldn’t be able to avoid reality forever. They needed to talk about what all this meant.
“So,” he began tentatively, “we have a few things to discuss, wouldn’t you say?”
Her warm breath blew across his throat as she sighed. And apparently, that was all it took to make him hard again. Shit, he hadn’t had that short a recovery time since he was sixteen.
She lifted her head and glanced down at his erection, then back up at him with a wicked smirk and a raised brow.
“Maybe we can talk later?” he asked hopefully.
“Oh, definitely,” she said, sliding down his body. “Much later.”
Chapter 27
“To Sam Quinn. May his newly cleaned-out arteries last another sixty-five years.”
Annabeth, Lilian, and Jackson all raised their glasses and clinked them with Kendall’s in support of her toast. Grandpa Frank didn’t participate, but he at least kept his mouth shut, so Jackson was taking that as a win.
The restaurant—one of the finest in the city, according to Trip Advisor—was wonderful. The food was phenomenal (Jackson couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a filet this good, and he was from cattle country, for God’s sake), and the atmosphere was high end, but not at all stuffy. Kendall, Annabeth, and Lilian said the wine was great, too. He was glad they were enjoying it. They deserved a little pampering after the week they’d had.
Frank had snorted when he’d been offered a glass of wine, indicating he would not be drinking any “prissy Frenchie crap,” opting for a beer instead.
Jackson was sticking with water. Even if he wasn’t clean and sober, by the looks of this group, they’d be needing a designated driver before the night was over.
They’d spent the day at the hospital with Sam, who was in pretty good spirits, considering everything he’d been through. He certainly wasn’t thrilled with what the doctors had to say about his diet—which was most definitely going to have to change—but he accepted the news with minimal grousing.
He’d also been feeling strong enough to give Jackson a super-firm handshake when he met him, and a bit of a narrow-eyed, I-know-you’ve-seen-my-daughter-naked-and-I-don’t-like-it-but-I’ll-let-you-live-as-long-as-you’re-good-to-her glare.
Jackson liked the guy immediately. Lilian was awesome, but Kendall clearly took after her sharp, tough-but-fair father.
Grandpa Frank still hadn’t addressed him directly, choosing instead to refer to him as “the deadbeat musician loser”, but Jackson considered that a work in progress. Maybe someday he’d be able to win the old guy over.
And there damn sure would be a someday, because he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t about to let Kendall go. He was in this for the long haul.
He could only hope she felt the same way.
Kendall was guarded with her feelings. Jackson completely understood why. According to Ray, that dumbass ex of hers (and probably several other dumbass exes before him) had put her through the wringer. But Jackson fully intended to stick like glue and convince her that he was worth opening up to.
He could be fairly persuasive when he wanted to be. When he wasn’t being a grumpy asshole, that is.
At least that’s what Ray always told him.
Kendall and Annabeth, giggly and a little unsteady on their feet, excused themselves to the restroom. Jackson stood up, ready to walk them there so that neither of them face-planted, but Lilian held him back with a surprisingly strong hand on his forearm.
“My girls can handle themselves, hon,” she said. “Don’t you worry. They’re both tougher than they look.
”
He laughed and sat back down. “Oh, I know that, ma’am. Kendall is the…” Most amazing? Sexiest? Future Mrs. Jackson Hale? “…strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes narrowed on him in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable. If eye contact could be sharp enough to cut through a body, Lilian had pretty much just peeled back his skin and skull and taken a good long look at his brain. It was fucking unnerving.
Eventually she said, “You really do care about her, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.” Zero hesitation.
She kept studying him with that scalpel-edged gaze of hers before finally settling back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, and smiling at him. “Good. Kendall is special. Always has been. But her taste in men? Absolute crap. Frankly, when I met you, I was concerned you might be a complete douchebag for no other reason than Kendall seems so enamored with you. That seems to be her type. But I thought, oh well, at least this one is relatively decent looking, seems to have his finances in order, and isn’t her boss.”
Well, that was a lot to unpack, wasn’t it? “Um…thanks?”
She waved him off. “Don’t get me wrong. You seem nice enough. But then again, they all do when they meet me. Company manners, I call it. They put on their company manners and try to pretend they aren’t shitbags, you know?”
He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he had any earthly clue what she was talking about.
“But you,” she went on, shaking her head, “you fly her out here to help take care of her family when there isn’t much of anything in it for you.”
Jackson frowned. “It wasn’t about me. But I’m here for her. So, really, I can’t claim that there isn’t something in it for me.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” she said. “You put Kendall’s needs ahead of your own and don’t expect anything from her in return. And you look at her the exact same way she looks at you. That’s what I’ve been dying to see in any of the long string of losers my Kendall has brought home.”
Now that was truly interesting. He leaned forward. “And how exactly do I look at her?”
Her smile reminded him so much of Kendall that his heart stuttered for a moment. “Like you’ve been blind for a hundred years, living in the dark, and now you can finally see the sun.”
Just the thought of Kendall looking at him like that made him happier than he probably had any right to be. “Thank you,” he said, well and truly humbled.
She grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Thank you. You see Kendall for the amazing, wonderful, complete disaster that she is, and you wouldn’t change a thing. You’re exactly who she needs.”
Frank harrumphed into his beer. “He’ll fuck it up. That’s what musicians do.” Then he let out a belch—without covering his mouth, of course—loud enough to draw the attention of every restaurant patron within a ten-table radius.
Lovely. So much for his sweet bonding moment with the woman who may (with any luck) be his future mother-in-law.
“Excuse me. You’re Jackson Hale, aren’t you?”
Jackson glanced up at the man who’d just approached their table. “Guilty as charged,” he replied, putting on his best you’re-interrupting-my-dinner-but-I’ll-try-not-to-be-a-jerk-to-you smile.
“I’m a big fan,” the guy said with a smarmy smile. But something about his tone was off. He didn’t sound like a fan at all.
Lilian looked up and practically hissed at the guy. “What the hell are you doing here?”
So Lilian knew the guy. And it was the first time in Jackson’s acquaintance with her that she visibly looked ready to throw down with someone.
The guy gave her an oily, fake-as-melted-plastic smile that showed off a mouthful of shiny white caps. “Lilian,” he practically cooed. “So lovely to see you again.”
Jackson didn’t know who this turd was, and he didn’t necessarily care. The fake smile, the overly styled hair, the pretentiously overpriced, fussy suit, the obvious spray tan…this man was a douchebag. And if Lilian didn’t like him, neither did Jackson.
So Jackson stood up. A perverse part of him was pleased when the guy took a hearty step back. Jackson also realized he was at least four inches taller than this guy, and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds of lean muscle. A totally immature thing to realize? Sure it was. But that didn’t stop Jackson from reveling in it. Just a little, anyway.
He stuck his hand out to the guy. “Jackson Hale. And you are?”
The fussy guy took his hand and gave it what he probably thought was a firm shake. Jackson smirked at him and tightened his grip until the guy winced and let go. “I’m Kyle Walker. When I saw your little event on the news, I wondered who could’ve orchestrated such a comeback for someone like…you. Now, seeing you here with the Quinn’s, I know it must’ve been Kendall.”
Wow. All bow to Kyle, the King of passive aggressive, backhanded compliments.
“Kyle is Kendall’s ex-boyfriend,” Lilian hissed. “He’s the one who fired her and gave her job to the girl Kendall was training as her protégé.”
Frank snorted. “The protégé he was banging,” he added around a mouthful of half-chewed steak. “Your story-telling sucks ass, Lilian. You always leave out important parts.”
Important parts indeed.
Jackson’s fists clenched involuntarily at his sides. He’d love nothing more than to drag this prissy little asshole out by the collar of his dress shirt.
But something told him Kendall wouldn’t want her client’s mug shot to end up on the nightly news after he was arrested for assault, so Jackson kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself.
But a little part of his soul died every second he was within punching distance of Kyle and not punching him.
Kyle, for fuck’s sake. Jackson couldn’t believe a dude like this, named Kyle, had been with Kendall and had the audacity to cheat on her.
He was prepared to tell Kyle to leave, but Lilian beat him to it. “You need to go before Kendall gets back. This is a family dinner, and you have no business being here.”
Kyle’s beady little eyes shifted to Jackson. “Oh, I apologize. I thought it was a working dinner. I thought Jackson was a client.”
“What I am is none of your business,” Jackson told him. “I do believe Mrs. Quinn asked you to leave. I’d be doing that now if I were you.”
“Beat it, fucknugget,” Frank said, then belched again. He gestured to Jackson with his fork. “The only thing this one has going for him is that he isn’t you. I never liked you, you weasel-y little shit stain. Thank God I don’t have to keep my feelings to myself anymore.”
Lilian turned to him, wide-eyed. “What the hell are you talking about? You never kept your feelings to yourself. When Kendall introduced him, you refused to even learn his name. Pretty sure you only ever referred to him as ‘that wiener-headed jizz stain.’”
Frank nodded. “See? I held way back. Took the high road.”
Kyle’s lip curled in derision. “Charming, as always.”
Jackson took another step toward him and lowered his voice to say, “The only reason you’re still standing is that I don’t want to undo all the hard work Kendall has done for my image. Go now. Before I do something that you’ll regret.”
He had the pleasure of watching the smug bastard’s face go pale. Then Kyle turned on the heel of one of his wingtips to scurry away like the rat he was, and nearly walked right into Kendall.
Damn it! Jackson had wanted this asshole gone before Kendall saw him.
Her eyes narrowed on her ex. “Kyle, what the hell are you doing here?”
Kyle ran a hand nervously over his hair. “I’m here on business. I only came over to say hello to your family and your new…friend.”
The dirty emphasis he put on the word “friend” made Jackson want to hold the fucker’s head down in the restaurant toilet and flush a few dozen times.
“You don’t have any business in Indianapolis,” Kendall said. Then she snort
ed and said, “Let me guess. You saw Jackson on the news, wondered which firm he was working with, and started stalking him so that you could poach him.”
Kyle sniffed delicately. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. Though, clearly, he’d be better represented by my agency than by a freelancer.”
He knew he should let Kendall handle it from here, but he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I’d put my freelancer up against your ten best PR managers any day of the week.”
Kendall looked surprised for a second at his vehemence, but quickly shifted her gaze back to Kyle before saying, “Did you get the info you came fishing for? Can you go now?”
“Climb into your douche canoe and row away, cuntmuffin,” Frank added.
Jackson’s lip twitched at that, but he manfully kept as straight a face as possible. Lilian and Annabeth weren’t as fortunate. Annabeth did a spit take with a mouthful of wine, and Lilian blushed when her bark of laughter ended in a snort.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Kendall said dryly, “but I’ve got this.”
Kyle straightened his tie and cleared his throat. “We can talk about this later, Kendall.”
“Nothing to talk about Kyle,” she said with a shrug.
“We’ll see.”
And with that, he wandered out of the restaurant—hopefully to be hit by a bus or something, Jackson thought uncharitably.
Everyone sat back down to finish their dinner, but the vibe was more subdued after that.
Until Frank popped up and asked, “Remember when Kendall brought that guy home and I made everyone an Old Fashioned?”
Lilian frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah, I remember, Dad. Why?”
“I spit in his.” He turned and winked at Kendall. “You’re welcome.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by riotous laughter. And just like that, the playful, happy mood of the evening returned.
Thanks, Grandpa Frank. I owe you one.
Chapter 28
While Jackson stepped out to take a call from his kennel manager, and Annabeth was busy making plans to meet up with some friends after dinner, Kendall got her first opportunity to talk to her mom alone. (Grandpa Frank had finished his beer and dozed off, so he was currently slumped over a little at the table, snoring.)
The Has-Been and the Hot Mess Page 12