Jackson appears in the doorway and stops when he sees me.
"Hey," he says quietly.
"Hey."
He's still in his suit from the flight. Tie loosened, top button undone, hair messy like he's been running his hands through it. He looks exhausted and wired at the same time.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.
"No."
We stare at each other across the dark kitchen. The air between us feels charged, heavy with everything we're not saying.
"You played well," I say.
"Thanks." He moves into the kitchen and sets his keys on the counter. "You watched?"
"Yeah. Online."
He’s close now, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the faint salt of sweat, close enough to touch.
"Maya." My name sounds rough in his throat. "We should?—"
I kiss him.
He makes a surprised sound at the back of his throat, then his hands are on my waist, pulling me closer.
"Is this okay?" he asks against my lips.
"Yes."
"Emma and Chase are upstairs?—"
"I know. We'll be quiet."
His eyes darken. "How quiet can you be?"
"Very quiet."
He lifts me onto the counter in one smooth motion, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
"Tell me what you want," he says, hands sliding up my thighs.
"You. I want you."
He kisses me hard, tongue sliding against mine, and his hands are everywhere: my hips, my waist, up under my shirt. I arch into his touch, already aching for more.
"Can I take this off?" He tugs at my shirt.
"Yes."
He lifts my top over my head, and the sudden chill against my skin makes me gasp. His gaze lands on me, and a deep groan vibrates in his chest.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful. Every time I see you like this, I can't believe you're real.”
His hands cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
"That's it, baby. Stay quiet for me. Can you do that?" His voice is low, commanding.
