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He was still out cold, yet so wonderfully hot.
Somehow, in our sleep, we’d moved together, connecting up and fitting perfectly. It should’ve been weird to wake up to, but instead, I only felt protected and safe.
Turned on, too. His forearm tucked under my breast. If he drew his hand back, he could caress me. Feel my hard nipple through the shirt I slept in.
Then there was the matter of his dick. The rigid length of it rested against my ass. I’d already got up close and personal once, and it had me wanting so much more, particularly in this heavy, sleepy state where all of our antagonism and angst was absent.
I flexed again, grazing him.
He exhaled, burying his face deeper into my hair, his lips on the back of my neck. His hot breath sent a spiral of lust through me, the wave of it delicious. My body craved release. I ached to turn around and fit my mouth to his. Or have him reach between my legs and feel me up.
Pull my shorts to the side and just fuck me.
Like he’d heard me, Jackson tightened his hold, grinding into me from behind. His hand moved to my hip, giving me a squeeze that I felt all through me.
“God,” I muttered.
The word came out loud in the quiet room.
It broke the spell.
Jackson froze. He released me and rolled away, climbing out of bed with a muttered curse.
I sat up, my hair tumbling over my shoulder, my mind still half in a daze made of hormones and want.
Jackson stared at me, then followed my gaze down to where his dick tented his boxers, swore again and went to the door, opening it to half hide his body.
“Morning,” I said breathlessly.
“Morning, beautiful. We need to get up.”
“Think you already are.”
He barked a laugh of surprise. “Not commenting on that. Get your arse dressed, and we’ll head over to the hangar.”
He stepped out and closed me in, the click of the bathroom light following.
I dropped back onto my mattress and snuggled in the space he’d left, loving the scent of him on my sheets. Dipping my hand between my legs and chasing the good feeling he’d given me would’ve been bliss. But time was not on my side.
Jackson didn’t let me lounge for long, commanding me up and out of bed. I needed longer than him to get ready so gave up my lie-in and got into prep mode.
Considering how infrequent my trips from the tower had become, I was excited to go out. A peek from the narrow windows showed me fresh snowfall but a sunny day. I picked out a warm, close-fitting cream sweater dress that stopped just under my ass and had a matching belt, plum-coloured leggings, and mid-calf grey leather boots that had decent grip in the snow.
To the sound of Jackson upstairs in the kitchen, I applied light, daytime makeup with a lip stain that matched the plum leggings. With my tumble of dark hair, it looked pretty.
At least I hoped it did.
On any usual day, I’d assess myself in the mirror and decide if I was people-ready. Today, I only wanted to be Jackson-ready. For him to give the smallest sign of appreciation.
With a few old clothes thrown in a bag for use when painting with Daisy later, I took my locket from my fox figurine, giving the little creature a pat for luck, then climbed the stairs. Entering the living room, I slid the locket around my neck. But I fumbled the clasp.
The necklace fell from my hand to the rug.
Jackson leapt from the sofa and crouched in front of me. On one knee, he picked up my lost item of jewellery and held it up.
“Weird way to propose,” I quipped.
He smirked at me and stood, the necklace in his fingers. “Not suremarry mewould cut it without a ring.”
