Текст книги "Bad Romance"

Автор книги: Jen McLaughlin

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 14

Lilly

It had been five nights.

Five long, stressful, lonely nights since Jackson and I made love. And ever since, he kept his word. He treated me with kindness, and never once veered into anything more intimate. We were friends, and I could tell he cared about me, and God knew I cared about him. He didn’t talk about the night we shared, never once hinting he might be interested in more. He had been one hundred percent the platonic stepbrother, and it was killing me. He might be okay with one night of pleasure…

But I was not.

I ached for his touch. I dreamt of him every night. Last night, I’d awoken up around two in a cold sweat, with my hand down my underwear. Panting, I opened my eyes, hoping that the dream I woke up from about him making love to me with his mouth was real, but it hadn’t been. I was alone in the bed.

And just like that?

My impending orgasm slipped away.

That dream left me aching even more than before. And I was ready to snap. If he smiled at me one more time, or acted as if he didn’t want me when he had to, I just might pounce on him. This insistent desire couldn’t possibly be one-sided…could it?

He had to still want me, too.

“Are you even listening to me?” Derek asked.

I jerked myself out of my thoughts. Ever since Jackson moved in, Derek kept finding more and more excuses to come over. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to fix our relationship like he’d said the other day…or if it was because he just liked to drool all over Jackson.

Because he did that. A lot.

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say again?”

“I asked what time you had to be in at work tomorrow,” he said slowly.

I sat up straighter. “Oh, nine.”

“Okay.” He shifted and glanced at the clock. “What time does Jackson get home again?”

There was my answer.

I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to drool all over Jackson, too. “Any minute now.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and Jackson called out, “Lilly? You home?”

“Yeah,” I replied, fanning myself with my notebook. It was hot as Hades in here, and it would only get hotter the second he walked in the room. “In the kitchen.”

“I brought you a—” He stopped in the doorway, faltering. He still wore his dark green army uniform, and he looked smoking hot in it. Every time I saw him wearing it, and didn’t get to touch him, I died a little inside. “Oh. You’re not alone.”

“No, she’s not,” Derek snapped, scanning Jackson’s form. “Disappointed?”

It was funny, because when Jackson was around, Derek acted as if he hated him. But I saw the way he perked up whenever he entered the room. Saw the interest burning in his bright blue eyes. The jackass attitude he gave Jackson was clearly some kind of weird flirting. Derek was more engaged during Jackson’s quick comebacks than during an entire hour conversation with me, where he mostly talked about himself.

I wondered if Jackson saw it, too.

“That you’re here?” Jackson asked, shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, but I’ll cope.”

I sighed, watching his arms. He carried a six-pack of beer and a pizza. I didn’t know which I wanted more—the beer, the pizza, or him. Who was I kidding? There was no competition. Jackson won, hands down. And he always would.

Pursing my lips, I shook myself out of my Jackson trance and glanced at Derek to see if he noticed—but he was too busy admiring the same muscles I’d been. Swallowing hard, I tried my best to ignore the fact that my future husband was drooling all over the only man I had ever slept with. This was such an insanely messed-up situation. “Is one of those for me?”

Jackson glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Sure. If you want one.”

“Thanks.”

Standing, I raised my arms over my head, groaning when the aching muscles in my back finally got the chance to stretch out. Derek and I had been working on a crossword puzzle. I felt as if I were ninety years old already. Jackson watched me through narrow eyes, and for the first time in days, I saw desire there. It was enough to make me want to jump his bones—alleged fiancé in the room or not.

Jackson studied me, as if he knew my thoughts, and smirked.

Derek didn’t notice. He was too busy watching Jackson.

“You want a beer?” I asked Derek.

“Huh? Oh. No, thank you.” He glanced at his watch and stood. He’d gotten what he came for. He’d seen Jackson. “I have to go.”

Jackson didn’t even look at him. Just set the beer down on the counter and opened the pizza box. “Sounds good. See ya.”

I walked Derek to the door.

He glanced toward the kitchen. “If he could just be a little more respectful, I wouldn’t mind him hanging around all the time, but he acts like I’m the interloper. He should be trying to be nice to me so I keep his secret, trying to please me…”

“What?” I asked.

“Never mind,” he said quickly, cheeks red. “I’ll see you later.”

He ran out the door as if a rabid dog chased after him.

Maybe I was that rabid dog. Maybe he was as unhappy with this possible marriage as I was. And maybe, just maybe, he could be an ally in escaping it. I closed the door behind him, sighed heavily, and dropped my forehead on the cool steel door. “Thank God.”

“Thank God for what?” Jackson asked. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Now I’d have to deal with him being impossibly polite, all the while acting as if he’d never seen me naked before. “I, uh, my neck’s sore. I slept on it wrong last night.”

He chuckled and the next thing I knew, his hands closed around my shoulders, and he was massaging my sore muscles. “You always were a restless sleeper. I remember you roaming the halls in the middle of the night, back when we were kids.”

“I know. I still—” I broke off and moaned. I couldn’t help it. As soon as the sound escaped, he stiffened, but stepped closer. I could smell him. Feel him. Sense him. “I still do.”

He stepped closer. One more step, and his zipper would dig into my back. And I would be able to feel his erection. I’d missed it. “I know. I heard you last night.”

Yeah. I couldn’t sleep because of him. I bet he knew that, too. “Your mom talked about you a lot the other night,” I said, still holding the doorknob for dear life. “About how you might be coming home soon.”

“I know.” He tensed. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. His hands continued rubbing, moving down my back slightly, but they were stiffer. “I told her I wasn’t anymore.”

I tried to face him, but he kept me in place, massaging deeper. My eyes drifted shut. “At some point, you’re going to have to tell her.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He did it. Stepped even closer. All the nonchalance in the world couldn’t hide the fact that right here, right now, he wanted me. There was no way he could explain that away as a fluke. “Depends on if I stick around or not.”

My stomach hollowed out, and I squeezed my thighs together. “What do you mean? Are you thinking about leaving again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He leaned in and breathed in deeply. Had he just…just…sniffed my hair? He totally had. “There’s an opening in Hawaii, and a little bit of sand and sunshine sounds pretty damn nice to me right about now.”

Hawaii. My throat dried out. I tried to picture him lying on the white sandy beach, and it made my stomach hollow out even more. I squeezed my legs tighter, but it didn’t dull the ache in my core. Or the emptiness that filled me at the thought of him leaving again. This time, he might not come back. “But that’s so far away.”

“I know. That’s kinda the point.”

I swallowed. “Does Nancy know?”

“No. I only told you.” His hand slid down my back, and without meaning to, I leaned back into his erection, pressing my butt against him. We both froze, breaths held. “You know, you can press those sweet little legs of yours together all you want, but it won’t make it any better. Nothing will.”

I spun, resting against the door, chest heaving. He’d taken off his button-up uniform shirt, and only had a dark green undershirt on now. “I know one thing that will.”

“Lilly.”

“Jackson,” I whispered back.

He was so close, hovering over me.

Close enough that all I had to do was rest my hands on his shoulders and rise on tiptoe—and I’d be able to kiss him. One small movement, and I would get what I wanted. He still held on to my shoulder, and the other hand held on to my hip. He didn’t let go.

Didn’t reject me.

After days of nothing but kindness and distance, it felt like a miracle. Like a ray of sunshine between two dark, stormy clouds. Slowly, I reached up and cupped his cheek. The second I touched him, he shook off whatever had held him captive and stepped back.

Groaning, he dragged a hand through his hair and laughed. “Sorry. I zoned out for a minute there.”

Swallowing the protest welling in my throat, I forced a smile. Pretended like I didn’t want to climb all over him like a monkey. “Yeah. Me, too. Totally.”

“Anyway.” He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed again. It sounded more forced than before. “Yeah, so Hawaii. Maybe. Don’t tell anyone, though.”

“I won’t,” I said softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

We locked gazes again. Neither of us moved. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah. I know. And yours is safe with me.”

I curled my hands into balls. “Which secret is that?”

“The obvious one.” He looked me up and down. “The fact that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you’re not okay with maybe marrying Preppy Prick. Or that you’re okay with him watching me with more interest than he’s ever shown you.”

I shook my head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He laughed and ruffled his hair with his hand. “Tell the truth?”

“I told you.” I tilted my chin up. “It’s my business.”

“That might be so.” He came closer again, nostrils flared. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t see the truth staring right back at me. You said you might get out of it, but I think you know, deep down, you won’t. And it’s killing you.”

I shook my head. “If I have to do it, I will. And I’ll be fine.” I held my hands out. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“You could stand up for yourself. Say no to your daddy for once in your life.”

I laughed. “Yeah, because it’s that easy.”

“It is,” he snapped.

“You think I haven’t thought about saying no?” I advanced on him. He stepped back. “This isn’t about Daddy, or his wishes. This is more than that. I went to a lawyer. The merger is the only answer.”

“Corporate America is alive and well. Yay,” he said drily.

“It’s not like that,” I said through my clenched teeth. “If I don’t do this, thousands of lives will be affected. Thousands of people will lose their jobs. Their houses. Everything. There’s no escaping that. Not for me.”

He frowned. “Screw the companies, and the hell with your dad. Just walk away, make your own choices. It’s what I did.”

“Yeah. I remember. I was there. Perhaps you didn’t notice me?”

He flexed his jaw. “Don’t be a fool. I damn well noticed you. I just left, anyway. It’s what people do. They leave.”

I stared back at him, unable to respond.

Moments passed.

Finally, I broke the silence because he obviously wasn’t going to. “It was different for you. You had the luxury of just thinking about yourself.”

“The luxury of thinking about myself? I fought for my damn country. I put my life on the line every day for seven years.” He looked me up and down. “You’re going to tell me that’s a fucking luxury?”

“That’s not what I meant.” I covered my face, exhausted from this constant battle with him. He didn’t, and never would, understand. “I mean, there are similarities between what you did and what I’m doing, in a sense. Obviously, I won’t be surrounded by death or be in mortal danger. But if I go through with this marriage, I’ll be giving up years of my life, too, for the greater good. Yes, you made an honorable sacrifice, and yes, that was amazing. But it was also a way for you to escape. You left us all behind without a second thought, and you got out. If it hadn’t been for your injury, you wouldn’t be here now. And you know it.”

He gritted his teeth. “What does that have to do with you and Preppy Prick?”

“I would be making an honorable sacrifice, too, if I married him. Sure, I wouldn’t get to escape, or start new.” I pressed my lips together. “But I’d be saving thousands of people from unemployment, foreclosure, divorce, stress, all kinds of consequences. All I have to do is marry Derek for a couple of years, and they’ll be saved. That’s my job. That’s my sacrifice. And it’s my choice to make. One I won’t take lightly.”

No matter how much I wished I could.

Chapter 15

Jackson

I stared at Lilly, trying my best not to curse and punch a wall. Because I understood why she was doing what she was doing now, and I still didn’t like it. She wasn’t doing this to be a martyr, or a good little girl for Daddy Dearest. She wasn’t looking for pity, or for me to save her from a fate she didn’t deserve.

If she went through with it and married Derek, it would be because, to her, it was the right thing to do. She would be sacrificing herself, her freedom, her immediate future, and her happiness, to save the jobs of faceless employees who would never know they had her to thank for their padded bank accounts. She was being noble. Kind. Honorable.

Son of a bitch.

I couldn’t help but admire that.

“All right,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair.

She blinked at me, forehead wrinkled. “What?”

“I said, all right.” I dropped my hands to my sides. “I don’t like it, or agree with it, but I get why you feel you have to do what you have to do. And it is noble, in a way.”

“I’m not noble,” she whispered. “I’m trying to get out of it.”

“Yeah, but if you can’t find a way that’ll save the companies, the people”—I locked eyes with her—“you’ll do it. Won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Something laced her voice, and I couldn’t tell if it was fear or commitment to her cause. “I would. But I’m hoping I don’t have to.”

I headed into the kitchen, not knowing what else to do or say. “Want a beer?”

“Yes.” She followed me. “God, yes.”

After opening the fridge, I pulled out a beer, twisted the lid off, and handed it to her, before getting my own. I still thought she was insane for going along with this, but I knew from personal experience how difficult it was to buck expectations, especially when other people would be affected by your actions. And she wasn’t the type of person to knowingly hurt other people. Even people she didn’t know.

It was yet another thing I admired about her.

When we were younger, one time Walt was harping on me, like he always did. She came into the room, blond hair flying behind her, and told him to knock it off.

And Walt had. It had been the most peaceful day I’d had in that house.

“So. Hawaii, huh?” she asked, staring at her beer bottle. “Do you, like, have a death wish or something?”

I snorted. “If so, I suck at accomplishing it. I was in dangerous situations for the last seven years of my life, and I lived to tell about it. But tell me, how does living on Hawaii equal a death wish to you?”

“It’s literally on a volcano.”

I laughed this time, not bothering to hide it. “It sure as hell beats the desert.”

“Yeah. I bet it does.” She scrunched her nose up. “What was it like over there?”

Stiffening, I downed a big gulp of beer. I didn’t like talking about that. I saw more men die than I could count, killed more men than I wanted to count, and lost too many friends. Seen too many of them lose themselves, even myself. It was a constant battle to remain, well, me. To not lose myself to the memories or pain. But with her, I don’t know, it seemed right to answer. Like she deserved to know. “It was hell. And that’s about all I have to say about my time over there.”

“Is that why you never wrote back?” She lifted her beer and pressed it to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. I couldn’t look away. “Because you had nothing to say?”

Yes. And no. I hadn’t written back because I had nothing to say to her. While she chatted on about her life, and her future, I didn’t know whether I even had one anymore.

But who wanted to hear that?

“I read all the letters,” I said, instead. “Every single one.”

She swallowed a sip of beer and leaned against the counter. The new position made her breasts jut out, and, again, I couldn’t stop staring. “You did?”

“I did.” I still had them, upstairs in my room. Like Tyler said the other day, no matter where I went, or how many times I moved, they came with me. But I’d die before I admitted that. I also wouldn’t tell her that some of them had been reread over and over again, until they started to fade away. “I liked them. I missed them when they stopped.”

We stared at one another, neither one of us speaking.

I wanted to ask her if she’d stopped writing because she’d stopped loving me. But really, what the hell was the point? No matter what she answered, it wouldn’t change the fact that she was more than likely going to marry Derek, and I was going to continue on with my life alone. For some reason, that didn’t feel as good as it once had.

And I had no idea what was on her mind, but she seemed equally contemplative.

Finally, I cleared my throat and walked into the living room. She followed behind me. “What’s gonna happen when I move to Hawaii?”

She let out a little laugh. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“What I mean is, who’s gonna be here to remind you to have fun? To make choices for yourself every once in a while?” I sat down and patted the spot directly next to me. She curled into the sofa without hesitation, her knees brushing my thigh as she settled in. “Who’s gonna be your next mistake?”

“You weren’t a mistake,” she said, her voice soft. “You were one of the best decisions I ever made. That night, in your arms, I felt in control of my own life for the first time…well, ever. And it was exhilarating.” Peeling back the label of her beer, she bit down on her lower lip. “Thank you for giving me that.”

I swallowed past my incredibly dry throat and tugged on my jeans. My cock had come to life the second she touched my thigh, and it wasn’t going to shut up anytime soon. “Lilly…you’re welcome. But let’s be honest. It was hardly a selfless act,” I said drily, trying to lighten the moment before I gave up the fight and pounced on her.

Her mouth quirked up at the corners. “No?”

“No.” I chugged back some beer. “But you can’t just screw somebody when you need to let off steam. You need another thing. Maybe another person.”

She blinked at me. “You want me to find another man?”

“Hell, no.” I scowled. “Christ.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I know. Neither do I.” I rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “All I know is I want you to be happy, and I know Derek won’t be any help there. So you need someone else. A best friend. A confidant. Something.”

“I could have you…” She peeked at me. “We could write one another. Email, this time. Text, maybe. Or even better? You could stay. Not go.”

I laughed uneasily, because I almost wanted to say yes. I wanted to be her support network, the person she turned to when she was in need, even though I knew it would kill me a little each time. “Based on past history, I think we know any correspondence between us would be one-sided.” I purposely ignored her suggestion I stay.

It was out of the question. The last thing I wanted to do was stick around long enough to watch her marry Derek. Not even I was that masochistic.

“It wouldn’t have to be. I’m not saying we’d have to share deep, dark secrets. Just keep the lines of communication open.” She smiled sadly. “If you wanted to try. We could still be friends.”

My heart twisted because she wanted to rely on me, and I didn’t think I could be that guy for her. Eventually, I would let her down. Eventually, I would damage her. And I didn’t want to do that. Not to her. Anyone but her. “I can’t make you happy, Lilly. I can’t be that guy.”

Lifting a shoulder, she finished off her beer and slid it across the coffee table, acting as if my rejection didn’t upset her. I got up and grabbed two more. Part of me wished I could be the type of guy who was okay with being the person she called when she had a bad day, or when she wanted to celebrate good news. The man who stuck around so he could be the guy who filled in as her plus-one at events Derek couldn’t attend. The guy whose shoulder she cried on when she needed someone strong to lean on.

But I wasn’t. And I didn’t want to just be a stand-in. I wanted more, and for the first time in my life, I was willing to admit that.

By the time I returned, she’d relaxed back against the couch, her hands resting on her flat stomach. Her thighs were parted ever so slightly, and I knew if I crawled between them and kissed her, she wouldn’t say a damn thing to stop me. Knew I could have her, if only I decided to forget about what I really wanted, and stopped worrying enough to take what she offered. If only I could go back to being the selfish bastard I truly was.

But I’d worked hard to keep my distance from her these past few days. To treat her as a stepbrother should. I couldn’t let all that hard work fade away.

So instead of doing that, I sat down beside her.

And kept my damn hands to myself.

“How’s work going?” I asked, feeling like an idiot. I was no good at small talk, and now was no exception. I would rather ask her if she would like me to get her off again than talk about her job. Which was why I didn’t make a good person. “Do you get paid yet?”

She laughed. “No. Daddy says I need to prove my worth before I get a real salary. He doesn’t believe in handing things to someone just because they’re his kid.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” I said, thinking back on all my encounters with good ol’ Walt. “All too well.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She stared off into the distance, at nothing I could see, smiling slightly. “I’ve only got ten more months till I’m in, though.”

“Wow.” I shook my head. “A whole year?”

“Yeah.” The smile slipped away. “Twice as long as any other intern.”

Damn, her father was even more of a prick than I remembered—and that was saying a hell of a lot. “If you could do anything, anything at all, what would it be?”

She swallowed. “That’s a deep question.”

“Sorry.” I wasn’t. “If you asked me a month ago, I’d say I would go back to my platoon, be back in the trenches with the guys. Now I’m really hoping the Hawaii thing works out. Being a recruiter is different, but it still has that army brotherhood I love so much. It’s not the future I thought I’d have, but it seems like it would be a pretty good one.” I swallowed back some beer. “Your turn.”

“You just have an answer all ready to go, don’t you?” she muttered.

“Doc Greene makes me talk about the future a lot,” I said quickly. “I saw her today, and we talked about it.”

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “What about a wife? Kids? A house with a white picket fence and a dog?”

“I don’t want it. Any of it.”

She tilted her head inquisitively. Christ, I loved it when she did that. “Why not? What do you have against a family?”

“I’m a loner, a free spirit. Mom’s been harping on me ever since I mentioned I might come home, and it’s killing me. She’s smothering me, and it’s only through the phone.” I took another sip of beer. “I can’t imagine being with one person for the rest of my life, having to check in constantly, and not feeling trapped by that life. And if my fictional wife decided she hated me, we’d be stuck. If I get married, I want it to last. Divorce shouldn’t be an escape route. So our fictional kids would be trapped in a toxic environment with two parents who can’t stand each other.”

I refused to let my mind go to the one woman whom I might be able to happily spend a lifetime with. After all, she might end up marrying someone else out of duty.

Twisting the beer, she lowered her head. “You’re assuming you would grow to dislike each other. But what if you could be happy for the rest of your lives? What if the woman you married was the person you’ve been waiting for your whole life? What if you pass up your soul mate because you’re too scared to risk it?”

Still not thinking about it. I didn’t even believe in soul mates. You either liked someone, or you didn’t. End of story. “What if you pass yours up while you’re married to Preppy Prick?”

She blanched. “I don’t know.”

Well, shit. I hadn’t even lasted twenty minutes before breaking my vow not to poke at her any more about that marriage. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I muttered.

“It’s okay. You’re right. I might miss out on that. On all of it. The happiness. The laughter. The love.” She sighed. “And that would suck, but it is what it is. Sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes you don’t get what you want. We can’t all get happy endings, can we?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I tightened my hold on my beer, seeming to realize at the same time as her how close we sat to one another. Our legs were both turned in, knees brushing, and her hand rested on my thigh.

How the hell had that happened?

She jerked her hand back, and we both jumped up.

“I’m tired,” she blurted out.

“I’m going to do the dishes,” I said at the same time.

We laughed and went to pass one another, but we both went the same way. The end result was my chest pressed against hers, and her hands on my hips. Her perfume washed over me, and I groaned. Actually groaned.

“Sorry. Sorry.”

Lilly backed up, tucking her hair behind her ears, her cheeks even pinker than before. Her fingers trembled as she lowered them, and I knew—I damn well knew—she trembled with desire. For me. “You know, for a man who values the concept of brotherhood so much, I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit about your potential as a husband. Marriage just means you’re on a different kind of team.”

Her jaw worked for a moment as if she was debating saying something else, before bolting for the stairs, and I watched her go, my mind finally thinking about it. What it would be like if Lilly was free. What life could be like if I married her.

I reminded myself of all the reasons why following her up to her room was a horrible idea. If I let her in, it wouldn’t just be her heart breaking in the end. Her level of self-sacrifice astounded me, and I couldn’t pressure her any longer to go against her principles. If she decided she had to marry Derek, then I wouldn’t stand in her way.

Besides, what did I have to offer her?

I was living in her home, free of charge, on her charity. I only had seven years of banked army pay in my accounts. If I went up those stairs, if I knocked on her door, she would become my world. I wouldn’t care that she was my stepsister, about the scandal our relationship would create, about the fact she was promised to another man.

All I’d care about would be her.

I would lose control over my own fate. My happiness. It would all belong to Lilly. She’d hold everything I was in her hands. After years of being unable to control anything in my life, I wasn’t ready to give up control like that again. I couldn’t be helpless like that.

Vulnerable.

Even for her.

She could never just be my stepsister now. If I was being honest with myself, she first started to worm her way into my heart when she brought me those damn cookies. When she took the time to write a scared, eighteen-year-old, wet-behind-the-ears army grunt.

Getting to know her now, all over again, it was only getting worse.

She was incredible. Amazing. One of a kind. And not mine.

I cleaned up untouched pizza and empty beer bottles, then drank a few more. I lost track of how much time passed, but it had to have been at least a few hours. When I climbed the stairs, the room spun a little bit, and I held the railing to steady myself. I had hoped drinking the rest of the beer would dull the aching void that Lilly Hastings had left behind in me. Had hoped it would temper the lust. The need. The pain.

It didn’t.

If anything, it made it stronger.

I clung to the railing, blinking against the darkness as I finished climbing the stairs. When I reached her door, I stopped. For a second, just a damn second, I fought with myself. I could go in, wake her up with a kiss, and take her. Settle for whatever scraps of her I could get before she agreed to marry Derek.

But I couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.

“Jackson…yes, God, yes.”

I stiffened, resting a hand on the doorjamb and leaning closer. Had I seriously just heard that? Or was it all in my imagination? It had to be the beer messing with my—

“Jackson,” she moaned again. “Ohhhh…”

Look, there was only so much a man like me could take.

Even a saint wouldn’t have been able to walk away from that door—and I’d already established several times now that I was no damn saint. If she was going to touch herself, and pretend it was me, there was no way in hell I was walking away.

I wasn’t a good-enough man. And I never would be.

Especially after this.

Breath held, I turned the knob, half hoping it was locked, mostly hoping it wasn’t. Hell, even if it was, I probably would have knocked down the damn door to get to her.

It cracked open without objection.

Stumbling in, I ripped my shirt off as I walked over to the bed. She lay in the middle of it, breathing heavily, blankets kicked off. Her perfect thighs were parted, and her hand pressed against her clit, underneath her thin, lacy panties. They hid nothing at all, and yet hid too much. I could see her pink, rosy lips, and I could see how wet she was. But I couldn’t see the way her finger thrust into her soft pussy, or how crazy she drove herself while she played with her clit.

It was still, hands down, the most erotic thing I’d ever seen in my life.

Part of me expected her to freeze up on seeing me. For her to stammer apologies, or blush, or grab the covers. Something modest and innocent. But she stared at me, biting down on her lip, and moved her fingers even harder. Even faster.

And then she groaned.

I choked on nothing at all, ripped my pants open, and let them hit the floor. “I’m going to fuck you, and nothing—nothing—will stop me.”

“God, yes. Jackson.” She moaned and arched her hips, still rubbing herself, her lips parting as she cried out. “It’s about damn time.”

I couldn’t look away, and I squeezed my cock as I watched, needing a little bit of reprieve from the need crashing into me relentlessly. There was no more time, or need, for words. Not anymore. We’d said it all. Thought it all.