"Yes." And I did.
"You like this for every man or just me?"
I heard the ownership in his tone and it didn't scare me. "Just you."
"Fuck." He went deeper and I cried out, my pussy contracting around his cock and milking him hard. I felt him come in me, my nipples hardening tighter and I clutched onto him, not wanting him to vacate my body.
The kiss that followed was soft, both of us needy after the almost-confession that no priest needed to hear. "You okay?" he said, pulling the sheets up over us.
I ran my hand through his beard. "Yes. Jackson?"
"What is it?"
"I'm not usually like this, the way I've been with you this weekend."
"Does it scare you?"
"Yes. But I'm liking it."
"So am I. We'll talk more during the week. We should probably sleep now. Or ditch work tomorrow." We both laughed, knowing that wasn't an option for either of us.
I sat up, trying not to pull the covers off Jackson. "Where are you going?"
"Bathroom. I need to clean up. You can have the wet patch." He groaned and rolled over, half asleep already.
"I give her two orgasms and she makes me sleep in the wet," he muttered. "Shit, it really is a big patch!"
I listened to movements as I used the bathroom, taking off what was left of my makeup and having a quick wash so I would be more comfortable. When I walked back into the bedroom he had changed the bottom sheet and was looking smug.
"No wet patch. I didn't realize how much I came, although I knew how wet you were." I could see in the moonlight that trickled in through the window that he was pleased with himself.
"Not just you, you know." I got into bed and pushed my ass into his stomach, needing to be held. He spooned himself around me, one hand on my breast. "Now go to sleep."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled and that was the last thing I heard, heading into a dreamless sleep for the second time in more than a year.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chapter Eleven
Jackson
Claire told me on a regular basis that I shouldn't be allowed to be present in another's human's company until I had drunk at least two mugs of strong, caffeinated coffee. By Thursday she'd told me I shouldn't be allowed to communicate with anyone, whether over the phone, in person or via social media, until I'd also had a fix of Vanessa each day.
"For fuck's sake, Jacks," she said via Facetime on Wednesday morning. "I've already had someone at the Manchester office, who shall remain nameless, contact us to find out if you're okay. As inmentallyokay. Turn down the crank else you'll be getting more like our father than Maxwell!"
"I'm not cranky!"
"Really? Why did you shout at the receptionist then? What catastrophic ineptitude did she present you with?"
"She... I... Oh fuck. I'm turning into Dad." I put my head in my hands.
"You're not just turning in to Dad, you're turning into Dad when Marie was away. I'm worried, Jackson," Claire sounded serious which bothered me. "You met Vanessa a week ago and you're pining for her."
"I'm not pining! That's something teenage girls do. Or Seph."
"Seph could be considered a teenage girl," Claire said thoughtfully. "Thank God Payton's back and is knocking him into shape. She's set him up on a date tonight with someone she knows."
"I assume she doesn't like them and doesn't want to speak to them again."
