"Just let me think about it. And then I'll need to discuss the what ifs and the practicalities, so just be patient with me then."
He nodded, moving my hair from my face. "My family haven't driven you too mad tonight?"
"No. Your step-mum can drink though. And she seems sober."
"She's Irish. And I think alcohol is a coping mechanism with us and Dad."
"Do you ever call her Mum?" I looked up at him. He had told me lots about Marie and some about Ed, but other than knowing his mother had died, I knew nothing about her.
"Sometimes. When I was upset when I was little or really happy, it would just slip out. Callum calls her Mum, but he was still a baby when she came to live with us. Claire does to her face but refers to her as Marie to me and Max and mum to the rest. I suppose it's interchangeable," he said. "She likes you."
"How do you know?"
"If she didn't you'd know. Shall we go to bed? No one will mind and I think I deserve a reward for keeping my hands off you all evening."
I laughed and followed him upstairs to our room. It was just after midnight and the people who weren't staying here had left already. Jackson had already said that Payton, Marie and Ava would be awake and talking to the wee small hours; his father would slip off to bed and Max, Seph and Killian would end up playing cards.
"Do you not want to stay up with them?" I said as I started to undo the top I'd worn.
"Not right now," he said. "I might wait until you've fallen asleep and then go and play poker."
I eyed him. "Who says I'm going to fall asleep? I'm not tired." His pulled me down to the bed and kissed me, slowly, almost chastely.
"Let me see if I can tire you out." Then the kiss changed into something more charged and demanding. He pulled off the rest of my clothes, smelling my underwear. "You've been wet with me?"
"Jackson," I laughed, feeling almost embarrassed. "I'm pretty much constantly wet with you, either because I'm turned on or because I've been turned on and you've come inside me."
His eyes were dark. "Is it wrong that I really like that. Shit, Van." He filled his mouth with my breast, his teeth biting at my nipple and I wondered what he was going to say although I had a good idea of what I hoped he was going to say.
Just after one o'clock, we were naked under the sheet, slightly out of breath, the room smelling of sex. I heard Max and Killian talking outside and Seph as he walked passed our room, singing to himself. "No cards?" I said, feeling Jackson's hands around me.
"I don't want to move," he said. "If you live with me I get to do this every night and wake up with you every morning." His hand slipped lower over my abdomen and I inhaled deeply as my body contracted, my pussy growing wet again. I knew exactly why. This man made me think of things and possibilities I'd never considered.
His breathing deepened as he fell asleep still holding me, the sheets pushed back so we wouldn't overheat. I stayed awake, listening to the sounds of his family as they plodded about the house, Marie's laughter, Claire's swearing as someone work her up and her protests as someone – I think it was Killian – carried her up to bed and Amelie's low mutters to Ed as they talked outside. At some point, sleep consumed me, but not before I'd decided to take a chance and move out of Sophie's into Jackson's. It was worth the chance of heartbreak.
***
When I woke, Jackson's half of the bed was empty and cool. Sunlight flooded through the curtains and lit up the room, a cool draft coming through the slightly open window. I heard voices outside, laughter, a shout of protest followed by more laughter. I got out of bed and pulled on one of Jackson's t-shirts and clean underwear, needing to search for coffee. My head was fine; although I had drunk enough to feel tipsy, it had been at the end of a long week and I had been tired and anxious about meeting Jackson's parents, so the alcohol had probably hit me more than it would normally. The lack of a hangover was no surprise.
Killian passed me when I hit the bottom of the stairs, wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms: clearly, formality wasn't expected on any level. "Morning," he said. "Sleep well?"
I nodded, trying not to look at his naked torso. He was bigger than Jackson; blonde and wide, a dense beard that made him look like a Viking. "Eventually. It looks like I was granted a lie in."
Killian grinned. "This lot can drink like navvies and still get up the following day as if they'd spent the night in a church. Except for Claire. Claire is currently hungover and blaming me."
"When did you see her? Is she up?" I was curious as to how he knew, given that Claire generally wanted to be as far away as possible from him.
"She's still in bed. I carried her up there and fell asleep on the sofa in her room. I've been sent to fetch coffee," he said. "Then I've been told I have to remove myself from her sight for the rest of the day as apparently, it's my fault she was drunk."
We'd ended up in the kitchen at the coffee machine that Max had sussed out, giving us the child-friendly instructions. I sipped an espresso before moving onto a latte, passing the time by talking to Killian when Jackson emerged, looking sweaty and warm.
He walked up behind me and grabbed me in a bear hug, purposely drenching me in his sweat and laughing hard. I hit his ass. "You're disgusting, "I said. "What've you been doing?"
"Legs day. Followed by a 10k run with Max. You just woke up?"
I nodded, needing the caffeine. "Just. What time were you up?"
"Max knocked on about seven-thirty. You sleep well? You were out cold when I left." He still had hold of me, still sweaty. I pulled myself away.
