The Gentlewoman (12 page)

“Rory, stop, I’m gonna come,” he finally breathed.

She didn’t stop. Instead she sucked him back down her throat
and went down on him hard and fast, relentlessly. Jackson grabbed the hair on
the back of her head hard. She moaned and sucked him harder, swallowing and
rubbing with her tongue. He tensed and fisted her hair tighter as he exploded
in her mouth, shouting her name and thrusting his hips as she sucked and
swallowed him wave after wave.

Breathing hard, Jackson lifted her head off his cock. He
took her in his arms and laid her back on the floor, quickly and deftly undoing
her jeans and pulling them off. Spreading her legs and placing them over his
shoulders, he licked up her clit with an intense urgency. She cried out as he
stroked and nudged until it pulsated and ached for release. He licked her
harder and as she came, she felt every muscle in her body tighten to the
breaking point before giving out and going completely limp. Afterward, she
couldn’t move for the tingling in her pussy and the trembling of her muscles.

But Jackson didn’t give her a break. He hauled her up and
pressed her chest onto the mattress. With one hard drive he was inside her,
slamming into her over and over until she was grunting with each thrust and
gripping the comforter with clenched fists. He drove again and again, one hand
holding her tightly at her hip, the other spread between her shoulder blades,
holding her down. His long cock hit her square on, a touch of pain enhancing
the savage pleasure. She felt the intensity building, until finally she
shattered and screamed his name, her body freezing and riding out the brutal
release. She felt him withdraw and the wetness as he ejaculated on her back,
and then collapsed against her, sealing himself to her with his seed. They
stayed like that, panting and unmoving.

“Holy shit, that was incredible, Rory,” Jackson said
breathlessly, his head resting against her shoulder blade. “Please tell me you
don’t hate me for being so rough with you.”

Her forehead was mashed into the mattress and she didn’t
speak, her breathing harsh. Jackson raised his head to look at her. He gently
turned her head with both hands and laid her flushed cheek against the
mattress. He visibly relaxed when she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Hate is not exactly what I’m feeling at the moment.”

He chuckled and lifted from her. “Don’t move.” He kissed her
shoulder before ducking into the bathroom. He returned with a wet towel and
gently wiped her back and between her thighs. After returning the towel to the
bath, he picked her up and placed her in the bed. He walked around to the other
side and slipped in beside her, pulling her onto his chest and holding her to
him.

Rory woke and looked at Jackson. His face was relaxed in
sleep and his features were softer, his lips fuller and red from their sex
play. He reminded her of a Ralph Lauren model, with his dark stubble and
perfect features. He even had the expensive wardrobe, she snickered to herself.

He seemed beautiful on the inside too. He was very giving
and forthcoming, generous of nature. Or maybe she was reading too much into
their time together. She liked the way he made her feel, alive again. It was
easy to forget about the past and just live when she was around him. He made
her have fun.

Rory eased out of the big bed and made her way to the
bathroom. She was deliciously sore, the kind of sore that makes a woman happy
to have more of the same. She returned to the bed and eased herself in,
shrieking as an arm darted out, grabbing her around the waist and jerking her
back down to his chest. His smile was contagious as he kissed her and wrapped
his arms around her.

“Did you have a nice nap?” He reached out to flip her hair
over her shoulder.

“I had a very nice nap.” Her heart leapt at the way he gazed
at her. “I didn’t know it would be so nice to sleep with an old man. I might
have tried it sooner.”

“Again with the old man, huh? I’m not that old!” He laughed,
raising the back of her hand to his lips.

“Well, you’re older than I am. So do you do this special day
off for all your fuck buddies?”

He laughed and rested his hand on her hip, gently massaging.
“No, I’ve never done this before. But I like it, I have to admit. I’m really
enjoying spending the day with you.” The sparkle in his gorgeous eyes made her
breath catch. “I have something to ask you,” he added, his look changing to
hesitant, almost nervous.

Oh shit. “Yes?”

It was almost a whisper. “I want to ask you if you’ll
accompany me to the state dinner at the White House next Saturday night.”

“A state dinner!” Rory exclaimed, bouncing up. “Wow! Fancy!”

“So will you be my date?” he asked, laughing at her
reaction.

“How can I say no? A state dinner, the handsome gentleman
from Maine in a tuxedo, it’s every woman’s dream come true.” She laced her arms
around his neck.

He pulled her lips to his. He kissed her lightly at first,
then deepened, pushing her backward and covering her body with his.

“Mmmmm, I feel the same way about the gentlewoman from
Ohio,” he murmured against her lips.

Rory sat at the kitchen bar watching Jackson make his famous
four-cheese-grilled-cheese sandwiches. He was warming the soup they bought
earlier in the day and they had set the bar for the impromptu feast with fruit
and a dry white wine. They were both hungry after the afternoon’s recreations.
Dwarfed in his blue robe, Jackson in a T-shirt and boxer shorts, she felt at
ease and happy.

“So who are these sandwiches famous with, Dorn? Your many
women?”

He snorted and gave her a dry look before turning back to
the pan. “No, I guess they’re self-declared as famous.”

Rory was very curious about his sexcapades. “So, what types
of things is it that you like to do in your sex life? I’ve heard rumors, you
know.”

“What rumors have you heard? Tell me and I’ll tell you if
they’re true.” He flipped the sandwiches in the pan.

“Well, you’re the one who told me of your fondness for
restraints.” He looked at her with a puzzled expression. “When we were bed
shopping, remember?”

“Oh, I could never forget bed shopping with you,
Congresswoman,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively and returning his
attention to the pan. “Yes, I do like restraints, all kinds.”

“Why?”

Leaning against the counter, spatula in hand, Jackson
thought about that. “I guess I like the feeling of domination. It’s very raw
and powerful.”

“So you like to feel in control?”

“A lot of the time I guess, it turns me on. Besides,
restraints are just fun.”

He served the soup and sandwiches and came around the
counter to sit. “What else have you heard? Let’s just get this out of the way.
I want you completely at ease with me.”

She gazed at him, surprised. “Well, not that much, just
about your predilection for plurality.”

Jackson gave her a quick look and swallowed another bite of
his sandwich. “Guilty as charged. It was sheer lust, Rory. But hell, I’ve been
single damn near most my life, and I wasn’t hurting anybody.” He shrugged and
smiled at her sheepishly. “It was just for fun.”

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “I’ll never do
that. Just so you know,” she said with quiet conviction.

“I’d never ask you to.” He sat his sandwich aside and turned
to her. “How many men have you had sex with?”

She blanched and blushed.

“Oh come on, you’ve spent the afternoon in my bed, just tell
me. It won’t matter to me.”

She rubbed her palms on her robe-covered thighs and
swallowed hard. Ironic that this would be what would give her pause after the
illicit twenty-four hours she had just spent with him.

“Not that many,” she said, taking a swig of wine.

“How many? I want a number.”

“Fine. Four. You’re number four. Happy?”

He smiled. “Yes, I am. I knew you weren’t very experienced.
Why would you think I would want you as part of a ménage or anything else?”

“I don’t know, I mean, the way Durand made it sound, it was
the way you were, what you always did.”

“I think Agent Durand was embellishing to inflate the
importance of her position in my life.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Maybe because she could tell you were special to me.”

Rory looked into his eyes, once again feeling like a deer in
headlights. He was so forthcoming, it was sometimes disarming. Her heart
fluttered and panic seized her chest all at once.

“Rory, I never intend to have that type of sexual encounter
with you. The idea of sharing you with anyone is offensive to me.”

She searched his face, feeling that she could trust him,
although it didn’t make sense. What made her different from the other women?
“Okay.”

“You don’t sound very convinced. You’re making me feel like
a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those were sexual games I had fun with and enjoyed,
for sure. But that’s not what I’m doing with you. Durand had no business
screwing with your head that way.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” She tried to pacify him. She
could see his intensity increasing. Her anxiety rose.

“I don’t think you do understand. That type of game is fine
when you’re just playing, but that’s not what I’m doing with you. It’s not what
I did when I was married either. In fact, that’s why my marriage ended. My wife
was unfaithful to me because she thought she could force me into accepting that
type of game in our marriage. It wasn’t okay then and it’s not okay in this
situation either.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring anything up that upsets
you.”

“You didn’t, baby.” He took both her hands as he turned her
toward him. “I just wanted to be clear with you.” He kissed both her hands
before kissing her lips and smiling. She returned his smile timidly. “You don’t
have to tiptoe around any topic with me, okay? Let me put these dishes away and
we can finally take that bath.” She felt like bolting.

“I’ll help.” She rose, consumed by the need to sort out some
of these confusing thoughts and messages. The panic was nearing the surface and
she needed to swat it down.
Just fucking go with it
, she reminded
herself.

Jackson filled the bathtub and lit the candles, hoping to
soothe Rory’s nerves. He hadn’t meant to get that deep but felt strongly that
she should understand this wasn’t just another fuck. He knew she was dealing
with demons; he was too. It was daunting to deal with actually caring for
somebody romantically, beyond sex, for only the second time in his life. And
the first time hadn’t worked out very well. He didn’t want to fuck this up. But
he wanted her to open up to him. He was craving it. She was still very closed
off and he wanted her trust. Especially knowing what the next couple of weeks
could bring with that damn vote. He winced at that thought.

He poured oil into the bath and checked the temperature as
Rory appeared in the doorway.

“Your phone was buzzing.”

“I don’t care.” He walked over and stood inches from her
face. “I’m still enjoying my day off with you.” He reached forward and untied
the sash of the bathrobe, then removed his shirt and boxers.

She looked at his hardening cock and her lips quirked in a
half smile. “It’s almost nine. Day’s almost over.”

“I’m milking it for all I can get.” He reached forward and
drew the robe from her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. He took her by the
hand and led her to the bathtub, stepping in and drawing her behind him. They
sat facing each other and he entwined his legs with hers as they lay back in
the foamy water. Jackson felt her muscles tighten. “Come here and I’ll massage
your shoulders.”

Rory gazed at him. He could see the anxiety remaining in her
eyes. He gently pulled her over and hugged her back to his front. He stroked
and caressed her shoulders to force relaxation. It didn’t take long for him to
become fully hard and she turned and smirked at his erection digging into her
back.

She rose and sat on the ledge, the wall at her back. She
soaked the sponge and lifted it high, streaming the hot, soapy water over her
breasts. As she caressed her body with the sponge, Jackson rose to his knees
and centered himself between her thighs, grasping her hips. His mouth went
between her breasts and he licked the same trail the sponge had taken, her
hands digging into his hair.

His fingers took the same path down her body. She arched
against the wall, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of his mouth and
hands. Her skin blushed under his touch, her nipples hard and pink. As his
hands trailed lower, he hesitated, taken aback at the sight and feel of the
pronounced scarring on her lower abdomen. He blanched before he recovered
himself.

Rory felt his reaction and her eyes snapped open. She
quickly jerked to move away from him, but he held her in place with his large
hands around her waist, meeting her gaze and insisting she hold herself steady.

“Easy, easy, it’s okay, Rory, don’t panic.” Her breathing
raced and her hands grasped the ledge. He didn’t move but held her gaze,
smoothing his thumbs over her skin while holding her. After a moment, he
deliberately moved and made sure she watched as he lifted his hand and placed
his fingers gently on the lines in her skin. She jumped and he caught her
again, harder.

“No, Rory,” he said sharply and held her stare. “It really
is okay.” After another moment of stillness, he laid his fingers on the marks
again and slowly, aware of her rising anxiety, gently caressed his way over the
area. He looked into her eyes to find tears pooling and streaming down her
cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby, it’s okay. There’s nothing bad here,” he
soothed in a whispered voice. Her eyes reflected the aversion and pain she was
feeling and his heart broke for her. Anger burned through his gut and he forced
himself to remain steady as he looked again at the reminders of the mutilation
she had survived. He recalled the bloody photos and horrific descriptions he
had read in those files and he ached for her.