“I’mguessing that means you like the stache?” I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Not just the stache. It’s everything.” His voice was low and gravely, making something flip in my gut as he stalked toward me. “The bare feet and casual clothes, your slightly wet hair, looking all domestic… You’re so fucking hot.”
It took him three strides before he was upon me, his hands wrapping around my hips to tug me into him, and I groaned softly against the feel of his body against mine. Running my hands up his arms, I couldn’t hold back the grin that pushed free.
“That do it for you, cowboy?” I teased, leaning forward to nip at his lower lip softly. “You want your men waiting for you barefoot and ready with a beer in hand when you come in from a long day?”
“Mmm…” Jackson rumbled, grinding his hips against mine. “I certainly wouldn’t say no, but I can think of a few other ways I’d prefer having you.” His hot breath fanned over my neck and ear as he leaned in to pepper kisses along my jaw, sending chills down my spine and a soft moan slipping through my lips.
Since after Goldie’s birth, Jackson and I hadn’t done much more than make out. Both of us wanted to be cautious about adding sex back into the mix of things, and considering how fragile I’d been then, I understood his hesitancy. He’d still allude to doing more, as he did now, but nothing would happen.
Before, I’d been okay with taking things slow and easing into more, but recently, something burned inside me. It’d started as a nudge, gently encouraging me, but now it was like an inferno any time Jackson got near.
I wanted this man something fierce.
As his lips dragged along the skin of my jaw, he let out a satisfied hum before he pulled away.
“Was this what you wanted to show me?” He grinned, and I nodded.
“What about you?” I asked, not seeing anything outwardlydifferent about him, but the way his smile grew even wider told me it was something special.
Pulling away slightly, he lifted his right arm a little to pull back the sleeve and expose the skin just on the inside of his bicep. It was still covered in what looked like cling wrap, the area a little red around the work that’d been done, but the image was clear as day. On his arm was a black thoroughbred with a white blaze standing proud and tall, ears perked forward, and just at his feet was a creamy blonde foal, curled up in the grass. The artist had managed to capture the inherent cuteness of the foal without letting it overshadow the horse behind it.
My breath caught in my lungs as I took in the scene Jackson etched onto his skin.
“Is that…?” My voice held a slight tremble as the words came out, my eyes completely unable to move away from the image, but Jackson didn’t seem to notice.
“Poe and Goldie,” he confirmed. “You and me.”
That had my gaze snapping up, only to find him already staring at me for my reaction.
“You and me?” I whispered, struggling to find the air to speak.
“Don’t you think? Poe has always been yours, and I don’t know, Goldie feels like mine. I thought it was fitting for your claim on me. Our horses—us—all in one.”
“My claim?” I mumbled, probably sounding like the world’s biggest idiot, but Jackson didn’t poke fun or tease me. He simply nodded while my brain grappled for understanding. It felt like it was a muddled mess from all the emotions coursing through me.
“Jackson, this is permanent.”
“Yeah, and if I get my way, we are, too.”
My eyes bounced between his green-brown ones as the floor fell out under my heart, but I wasn’t worried about where it would land because it instantly sprouted wings to soar. It rose high in my chest, filling me with the most overwhelming feeling. It was one that wasachingly familiar, but at the same time completely novel because of who it was for.
I was falling for Jackson Arness.
It was a weightless sensation with him and entirely different from when I’d realized I was falling for Raleigh. No adrenaline-inducing fear came with slowly handing my heart over to another this time. It was warm and blanketed me in a soothing security because I knew to the depths of my core Jackson would treasure the disfigured thing my heart had become. There was nothing to be scared of here.
In a blink of an eye, those feelings rushed forward, and my body followed suit, crashing my lips into his with bruising intensity as I tried to convey without words how much this meant to me—how muchhemeant to me.
Jackson let out a little “oomph” as we stumbled backward, but he quickly returned the kiss with just as much force. We kept moving until eventually he ran into the kitchen table, the chairs scraping over the hardwood as they were pushed away. My blood sang as I continued to press into Jackson’s body, slotting myself between his legs as my tongue twisted and slid along his. The move nestled his bulge directly against my quickly filling erection, and I groaned into his mouth shamelessly. I’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants after my shower, and the thin fabric did nothing to stunt the rough friction of Jackson’s denim. It felt fucking incredible.
Jackson’s hands traveled from my hips to cup my ass, encouraging me to grind against him more, a guttural curse coming from him as I did just that. Flames licked along my skin, everything about kissing him and rutting against him like an animal making me feel more alive than I could ever remember feeling. Jackson’s hands gripped and kneaded at my ass cheeks, and I couldn’t stop the desperate sounds that tumbled from my lips.
It didn’t take long before the telltale feeling at the base of my cock began, and I bit back a whine, not wanting this to be over too quickly. Not only did I not want to look like a fucking loser, coming in mypants from dry humping him, but there was so much more I wanted to do with him tonight—if he was willing.
Pulling back, I quickly dropped to my knees before him, pressing the heel of my palm against my dick as I tried to adjust it. Jackson let out a choked sound, and I looked up, my mouth filling with saliva at the picture he made.
His cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded, and his hair mussed from where I’d been running my fingers through it. Both hands gripped at the edge of the table, knuckles white, as his chest rose and fell in heavy pants. He was so fucking sexy and all mine. That thought made my cock twitch. Jackson Arness was mine, and I was one lucky son of a bitch because of it.
