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The celebration continues well into the evening, drinking champagne and dancing until we’re winded and have to take a break, then do it all again. The only thing that mars the perfect evening is the phone call and text from my mother. Both started, ‘Merry Christmas,’ then quickly delved into questioning if I ever planned to respond to Cesily’s RSVP. Same as the other voicemails she’s been leaving me for the last week.
I’m not about to let my mother’s interruption dampen this amazing moment, so I simply turn my phone over and put it out of my mind.
Floating on cloud nine, I make my way upstairs. I’m so damn happy for my friends. We’re all exhausted from the excitement and copious amounts of champagne. I caught a few heated glances Jackson threw my way, so I figure I won’t be alone in my room for long. There’s something magical about this place. I usually never miss an opportunity to verbally spar with the Prince of Darkness, but we’ve kept it tame these last few days. That certainly doesn’t mean I’m about to tell the whole world—or our friends—what we’ve been getting up to, but it’s made for a relaxing trip.
There’s a soft knock at my door, and I feel those excited butterflies flutter in my stomach… and lower. For all of our issues outside the bedroom, Jackson and I are pure fire between the sheets. Too bad it can’t go any further. Fire this hot is sure to burn out in spectacular fashion, and I don’t want to be turned to ash when it happens. Unfortunately, the temptation to touch the fire overrules my determination to stay far away from the handsome devil.
Not waiting for me to answer the soft knock at my door, Jackson quietly slips in and locks the door behind him. We’ve both had a lot to drink tonight, as evidenced by his lazy, seductive smile as he prowls to my bed.
“Hey, Red,” he purrs as he slowly slips the blankets down my waist and over my legs, revealing my naked form. I figured why waste time putting on pajamas when I knew he planned on taking them off tonight.
“Hey, Prince. Fancy meeting you here,”
His eyes peruse my body, and he bites his lower lip as a sinful chuckle escapes him.
“Were you expecting me?” His brow lifts as he watches my thighs rub together in anticipation of his touch.
Instead of answering, I crook my finger, beckoning him.
“I seem to be a bit overdressed for this little meeting.” His hands go to his shirt, and he tries to undo the small buttons. His attempt is amusing as he sways on his feet, the alcohol affecting his balance.
I rise to my knees and undo the buttons, giggling at his obvious difficulties. He stops me when I’m halfway done, taking my face in his hands and bringing his lips to mine. When he pulls back, he gazes solemnly into my eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Red. I’m addicted to your mouth.”
He kisses me again, and I feel it straight to my toes. This sweet side of him isn’t something I’m ever prepared for. I need us in more comfortable territory.
“Gee, Jackson, are you sure you’re even going to get it up right now? Whiskey dick is a real thing.” I snicker.
His deep chuckle sends a thrill tingling down my spine as he grabs my hand and places it on his long erection.
“Please, She-Devil. Seeing you naked would make even a coma patient hard.” He rubs my hand over his length for good measure. “Goddamn, you have the most perfect tits.” His hand plumps my breast as his forefinger and thumb twist my nipple. “So responsive,” he groans out as he plays, watching my nipple go hard between his fingers.
“You know, coma patients can’t open their eyes to see anything,” I tell him.
“That fucking mouth, Abigail. Always giving me a hard time.” He twists my nipple harder.
I yelp, then let out a soft moan, loving the way he perfectly plays my body.
Distracted by his movements and the erection I’m rubbing, I’ve stopped unbuttoning his shirt. Growing impatient at his own lack of nakedness, he removes his hand from my breast and rips his shirt open, sending the remaining buttons flying.
“Dramatic much?” A laugh escapes me when I hear a button ting off the lamp on the bedside table.
“You were taking too long.” He lifts his shoulder in a small shrug and pushes me back onto the mattress. Crawling over me, he latches onto my nipple, sucking deeply.
“Oh God,” I breathe out as my fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to me.
“You can call me Jackson… no need to be formal.” His fingers find my drenched clit and softly rub back and forth, but not enough to get me to come. No, that wouldn’t be his style. He likes me to beg.
“I’ll show you heaven tonight, though,” he says between small bites on my breast.
“Seriously, Hayes?” I burst out laughing. “I’m about to revoke your man card with these cheesy as hell lines. Where do you come up with this shit? And who have they ever worked on because I’d like to have a serious conversation with that woman.”
Jackson removes his mouth from my breast and laughs with me.
“There she is,” he says as he works my clit in slow, torturous circles.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I arch my hips trying to coax him into doing somethingmorewith his fingers.
