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“You don’t have to sit up on guard all night,” I tell him after he’s finished and still hasn’t moved. “We’re pretty safe here. You might as well get some sleep.”
I both see and hear him let out a long breath. Then he stands up from the upholstered side chair where he was sitting and looks down on me in the bed, his familiar face shadowed in a way that makes it look unnervingly attractive. He really needs to shave. His hair is a mess. He’s even sweatier than I am.
He ran to the store and back so I wouldn’t be alone for too long.
For some reason, I think about Layne. How sweetly innocent she appeared. How Travis looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
I wondered what it would be like to be in that sort of relationship. To be in love like that. To have a baby with a man who wants no one in the world but you.
I’m not sweet or innocent. I’m not sure what I am anymore.
“It’s okay if you don’t want me in bed with you,” Jackson says at last, breaking me out of my reverie.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous. I told you to come to bed.” I scoot over to make more room for him under the covers.
He’s still eyeing me—like he suspects I’m not telling the truth—as he pulls off his shoes, unhooks his belt, and pulls it off with his holstered weapons. Then he peels off his jeans. He’s got threadbare boxer briefs on underneath them, and he leaves them on as he takes off his T-shirt.
“Why are you still wearing your underwear?” I ask him—genuinely curious—as he climbs into bed beside me.
“Wasn’t sure you’d want the whole package tonight.” He rolls over to face me, his head propped up on one arm.
Despite my exhaustion—physical and emotional—or maybe because of it, I giggle at this.
His face softens almost imperceptibly as he watches me laugh. It makes my chest ache strangely.
“The whole package is just fine,” I tell him when I’ve settled.
“Is it?”
I nod, my heartbeat accelerating the way it always does when we’re this close.
He reaches out and very gently touches a strand of hair that’s fallen into my face. I never bothered to take most of it out of the ponytail I’ve been wearing all day. “I’d prefer it to be better than fine,” he says softly.
My breath hitches. “It’s better than fine,” I whisper.
“You mean it?” He moves closer, and the sight and scent of him overwhelm me.
“Yeah.” I lean forward and brush his mouth with mine. Oddly gentle. “I mean it.”
He makes a sound in his throat and takes my head in both his hands, rolling me over onto my back and moving on top of me as he kisses me. It’s familiar but also strangely new, different. The light of the lantern illuminates more of the room than my candle ever did. I can see him clearly when I open my eyes, and there’s something deeply hungry in his gaze that I need and fear both.
We kiss for a long time. I wind one of my legs around his and slide my hands down to his ass, dipping under the waistband of his underwear so I can feel the firm flesh there. His cock is hard and trapped between our bodies. He grunts every time I buck up against it.
When I’m so aroused I can’t stop trying to hump his body, he finally breaks the kiss and slowly takes off my tank and panties so I’m completely naked beneath him. He kisses my breasts and my belly. Gives my pussy a few quick licks that make me choke on a squeal. Then yanks off his underwear and pulls my legs apart.
He stares down at me for longer than I expect. I’m naked and exposed and pulsing with deep need, and I’m sure I look shameless as I pant and squirm. He’s kneeling between my legs, holding on to both my thighs. He finally slides his hand to one of my knees and presses it back toward my shoulder, bending the leg up as he leans toward me.
He kisses me and then adjusts to line his cock up and thrust it home inside me.
I make a whimpering sound at the tight feel of him. I shift my hips but can’t move much because he’s holding my leg firmly in place. He’s looming over me as he starts to thrust, his face not that far from mine. His expression is disturbing. Confusing. I close my eyes so I can focus only on the intense sensations.
It feels good. Really good. He’s pushing fast and hard, bouncing my whole body with the force of his thrusts. I toss my head and squeeze my eyes shut and try not to imagine what he looks like above me, staring down at me. Seeing me. Knowing me. All of me. Completely.
“Kitten,” he rasps.
I make a helpless sound. Pleasure is tightening into a coil. I can feel it rising, but not fast enough. There’s so much else that I’m feeling.
“Kitten,” he says again. More insistent this time.
