Love and Relativity (21 page)

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Authors: Rachael Wade

BOOK: Love and Relativity
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“He’s almost
too
nice. Know what I mean? It kinda freaks me out sometimes. How messed up is that?”

“Whit, there’s nothing wrong with you for thinking that way. It’s just a byproduct of being screwed over. I promise you, though. You have nothing to worry about with Carter. Don’t sabotage this, okay? Give this a chance. He’s a good guy and you deserve to see where the relationship goes.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Resolved, she shook her head and resumed her scrubbing. “God, Em. Can I have your babies? I love you. Listen, though. If this Kate turns out to be Mega Bitch, you have to promise to restrain me and make sure I don’t get carried away at this wedding.”

“I’ve got your back.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.” Content when I heard her sigh in relief, I returned my attention to my homework. I finished a few minutes before Carter showed up, happy to head to my car when he arrived to give him privacy with Whitney.

Twenty minutes later, Jackson was dragging me inside his boat’s cabin like a crazed man. No greeting, no air or space left between us. Only urgency, a need for skin on skin. Pulling me against him, he plopped down on the couch and lassoed me onto his lap so I was straddling him, tearing my shirt and skirt off as he moved.

“Jack,” I laughed, gripping his hair, “slow down, baby.”

“I can’t. I haven’t seen you all day.” Grinning up at me as I loomed over him, he gazed at my breasts, but he didn’t reach for them. Instead, he rested his hands on my hips and devoured me with his eyes, lips parting at the sight, as if he’d never seen me without my shirt on before. The intensity of his stare was disarming. One strong hand finally left my waist and travelled across my chest, tracing my curves and pulling lightly at the straps of my bra. “Leave this on, they look gorgeous in this lace,” he demanded, his voice filled with desire.

Bending forward, he nuzzled his mouth against one breast and nudged the top of the bra cup aside with his teeth to breathe against my nipple. My whole body flamed from the touch, head falling back with a soft whimper as I gave in to the sensation. He groaned and sat back against the couch, taking me with him. His grip tightened on my hips and he straightened me against his chest, positioning my knees on each side of his waist so they sank into the couch cushions, forcing my legs farther apart.

My torso was now flush with his face, his lips to my navel. My breathing shallowed when he peered up at me through those dark lashes, making his intentions clear. “Tell me where you want me to touch you.” He kissed just below my belly button, shifting to level his mouth with the apex of my thighs.


Mmmhhhm
, please touch me here, Jackson.” With his dark hair intertwined in my fingers, I guided his head between my legs, raising my hips to meet the rush of hot breath. I closed my eyes for a moment at the feel of his mouth grazing over my black cotton panties, my nerves singing as he slid and buried his nose up and down my sensitive lips. The vibrations from the moan-induced hum resonating in his throat made me shudder. I glanced down and gripped his hair harder, whispering his name and my plea again.

He pulled back slightly to lick just above my waistband, eyes flashing upward to watch my reaction. I held his gaze for a second, releasing it when I felt his tongue delve underneath the cotton material, my eyes closing in ecstasy. His hand left my hip to finger aside the lace edge, giving him better access. I cried out at the pressure of his tongue, my fingers diving deeper into his hair, entangling the silky, espresso strands. The more I shifted to find relief from the intensity of the strokes of his tongue, the harder he pushed his mouth against me, the harder he gripped my hips to hold me in place. The heat from his mouth and the wetness combined sent me spiraling, and I pressed tighter into him before doubling over, my head falling on his shoulder as the release swept over my body. His relentless tongue continued to swirl and grind against me until every last wave of pleasure washed over me, wringing me out until my knees collapsed around him.
God, that was fast.
With Jackson, I had no control on the speed or breaks—ever.

And he so obviously reveled in the control he wielded.

His lips found my shoulder, panting against it, biting the skin there before pressing down in a soft kiss. “Emma...holy hell...” his hands slid up my ass and lower back, one landing on my neck, the other tangled in my hair, his chest heaving. “You taste incredible. I could do that all day, every day. Please, hire me for that and let me die a happy man.” I let out a tired laugh against his neck, easing my head up to bring my forehead to his, leaning in to steal a kiss. His tongue slipped inside of my mouth and he claimed me, groaning and rolling his hips to press harder into my core.

Feeling his desire burn beneath me, I pulled back and flicked my gaze down to his, realizing it was my turn to issue my command. “Tell me you want me to taste you.”

“Taste me,” he answered with no hesitation, watching in awe as I scooted down to the floor to crouch between his legs and stroke him through his jeans. He threw his head back against the couch headrest and I watched the muscles in his throat restrict then relax as he absorbed the feel of my hand on him. “Ah, yeah, baby, keep doing that.”

I took my time undoing his pants button, wanting to draw out his anticipation as much as possible. This was our rhythm, our worship: give and take, gift and receive, honor and entrust. Making love to this man wasn’t just an expression of my feelings for him or a carnal, physical need—it was an offering.

As I eased down his zipper, a loud bang on the door jolted us both from the spell, and Jackson’s head snapped up at the sound.

“Don’t answer,” I whispered, my fingers still teasing. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to take him into my mouth and make him feel just as good, just as wanted, as he made me feel.

“Open the door!” A voice screeched from the cabin door, clearly female, and clearly livid. “Jackson, you no good son of bitch, I know you’re in there, so open the damn door right now!”

“Shit!” Jackson scrambled up from the couch, reaching to toss me my clothes. He zipped up and adjusted himself, a tirade of expletives that would’ve made a sailor blush exploding from his lips.

“Who is it?” I flew up from my knees to cover myself, spinning around in the dim light to fasten my skirt. “What did you do now?” He cut me a look and straightened himself, dashing to the sink to wash up.

“Her name’s Natasha,” he answered angrily, taking a deep breath. “Just let me handle this, and I swear I’ll explain everything as soon as I get rid of her.”

“Get rid of her? What does she want?” I searched the cabin frantically for any remaining clothing, still feeling exposed and flushed from our lovemaking. Jackson rushed to the door and it swung open. There stood a tall, beautiful brunette glaring at him from the small doorway. She stepped down into the cabin toward him, her nostrils flaring and arms crossing against her chest. I wanted to step back and hide in a corner, under the covers—do anything other than stand there and gape at her like a fish—but her clothing caught my attention and I couldn’t look away.

She wasn’t just scantily clad—she was practically naked. A short, flirty black trench coat hung loose over her shapely frame, and tall, silver stilettos sparkled on her feet. I realized upon a closer look that her breasts weren’t entirely bare, but instead covered by decorative sequins. Her makeup was thick, with dramatic black shadow and bright red lips. All of my muscles tensed. The Casey incident at Pete’s was nowhere near as awkward as this. Whoever this girl was, she knew Jack—was angry with him—and he didn’t seem surprised at all by her appearance or her visit for that matter, only irritated by the inconvenience it posed.

“Where’s my money, Jackson?” She glanced past him to lock eyes with me, her gaze dropping to my feet, then travelling back up. “If you have the cash to take this one out, you have the cash to pay me. It’s been two weeks. Come on, it’s almost six and I need to get to work.”

Pay her?
A cold shiver rolled over my arms and I stiffened at her words.

“I know, Natasha,” Jackson said harshly, “we discussed this over the weekend. I ran short this week, but I’ll have the money on Monday, okay? I have no reason to lie to you about it.”

“No reason to lie? Really, Jack?”

“Natasha, please stop—”

“What about Ruben’s birthday party? He brought all his friends in and you swore you’d pick up the tab. That never happened.”

“I didn’t know he was bringing the whole
neighborhood,
Natasha. And that was two months ago.”

“Exactly. Two months ago, and still no money. Yet I let it slide. I can’t believe I lent you another 500.”

The cold shiver that seized my arms turned to ice and I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to
see
this. Moreover, I didn’t want to have the conversation I knew was coming the second this girl walked out the door.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, but I
will
pay you back. Monday. I swear it.”

Natasha stepped closer to pin him with her smoky eyes. “I hope that’s the truth. Because if you don’t show up with that money, I’ll tell Ed you’ve been ripping me off.”

“I haven’t been ripping you
off
, and you know it. This was a mutual loan.”

“He sure as hell won’t believe that.” She smiled smugly, lifting a brow. “And I doubt your daddy will vouch for you, either. Not that his word is good anymore, locked up behind those bars. Hasn’t been for some time. I’m surprised Ed still bails you out when you come running to him. After all these years. What an idiot.”

“Get out. Get off my boat.” He pointed to the door, opening it roughly.

“What, don’t want your new little girlfriend to meet the staff?”

“Natasha, I said get—”

“Hi,” she cut him off sharply, dodging around him to step in front of me, “you must be Jackson’s latest toy.”

I choked on my words. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t been to the club yet, have you?”

“The club, I don’t know what—”

“Oh,” she laughed, “you have no idea?” She leaned in closer, speaking to me like one would confide in a female friend. “I totally get why you stay blind to it, honey. Really. What girl would want to see her man hanging around naked women every day? Especially Jack!” She laughed again, louder and more biting this time. “His appetite is—”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” I said, veering around her to grab my purse and head for the door. “I’ll let you two wrap this up.”

“Emma, wait! Wait!” Jackson jogged after me, out the door and up the cabin stairwell, into the open air. The sea breeze hit me and I inhaled deeply, eyes finding the setting sun amidst the backdrop of the marina. Natasha’s heels clacked from behind us as she made her way down the dock toward the parking lot, her snickering echoing in my ears.

“Jackson, I’d like to go home right now. Whatever this is, I don’t want to know, I just need a few minutes to breathe—”

“It’s not what you think, Em, I swear...I swear on my mom’s grave it’s not.”

I stopped.

Slowly pivoting around to face him, I raised my gaze to his. “Is she...a hooker? You owe her money for...” The question sounded absurd, but I didn’t know what other conclusion to draw. If it was anything the entire island knew, it was that Jackson didn’t have to to pay for women to sleep with him.

“No. God, no, I swear. She’s a stripper.”

“And you slept with her.”

“No! I mean, yes..but no.”

“Is it yes or no, Jackson? It’s not a hard question!”

“I did. Before you, Em. All this shit...it was before you, okay?”

I spat his and Natasha’s words back at him. “
Two weeks ago
?
This weekend
? Whatever just went down, it wasn’t before me, Jack.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. Not the money stuff. But I haven’t touched her—or anyone—since you, Emma. I would never, never, never...” He latched onto my arms, his grip so tight I could feel his fingernails digging into my flesh. “You have to believe me, please. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I swear on everything—”

“Then what the hell is going on?”

Sighing heavily, his eyes darted left, then right, fingers still pinching my arms. “I work at her club...just three nights a week, for some extra cash.”

“You work at a strip club? Since when?” I choked on my words again, pulling my arms from his grasp. “Doing what?”

“I’m a bouncer. I had...connections. Because of my dad. He took some of the girls he worked with off the streets and into the club. His attempt at making safer money.”

“But this was years ago, I don’t understand.”

“I stayed in touch with a lot of these people, Em. It was all I knew, for a long time. And whenever I needed good, quick money, I knew where to turn. I had some business to take care of last week and came up short with some of my bills, so I asked Natasha to help me out. Ruben and Jeff couldn’t help me, and I didn’t know who else to ask. Carter doesn’t have it, and I’d feel like a douche asking him. Natasha and I go way back. But she’s vindictive and she’s just sticking it to me now, holding my job over my head.”

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