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The lock snicks behind me, and Jackson growls. “You’ve put me in a difficult spot, Chelsea.”
“Um. Excuse me?” I squeak.
Jackson flexes his neck and stalks toward me. “You took a bullet for me. I want to redden your ass for that. Conversely, you likely saved my son’s life. I want to kiss you for that.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “How about I help you with your decision?”
Placing my hands on my hips, I lean forward and with as much attitude as I can muster, whisper, “You_can kiss_my ass… Daddy.”
Jackson is on me in half a second with his hand around my throat. “Be careful, Chelsea. You’re in fuck around and find out territory.”
“Cute threat. Now watch me ignore it.”
I turn for the stairs, and Jackson rushes me, pinning my arms behind my back. “You’re going to be so much fun to tame. Now be a good little girl and get naked.”
“Make me.”
Jackson rips his shirt from my body. “Yes and sir, Chelsea. Yes and sir.”
My arms tremble before outright giving up. I’m done. My face smashes into the pillow when I collapse, and I wait until near suffocation before turning to suck in a breath.
Jackson doesn’t stop.
I’m spent from the two orgasms he wrung from me on the stairs and the one that came after he carried me to my room and threw me on the bed. By now, I’m content to be used as he pleases. A few ragged breaths later, Jackson loses his rhythm as the ripple of another climax devastates me. “That’s it, baby girl. Choke me.”
I squeeze hard, and Jackson lets out a long groan before collapsing onto my back. Jackson’s labored breaths fan over my skin, hot and cold with each inhale and exhale.
“You’re such a good girl. My goddess.”
Jackson gently rolls me to my side, pulls the blanket over us, and cuddles up behind me. His big hands work over my body, caressing and massaging as he murmurs words of praise in my ear about how good I felt and how well my body takes him.
Later, we lay in the quiet with the late morning sun streaming through the windows. I’m stretched out on top of Jackson with his hand resting on my ass. Without warning, he lifts his hand and swings it down hard.
The loud smack echoes throughout the room. “Hey! What was that for?”
“That was for coming between me and that bullet.”
“Psh. You would have done the same thing,” I throw back.
Jackson has me on my back before I can blink, nestled between my legs. “You won’t ever do anything like that again. Understand?”
I pick up my head and challenge, “Oh yeah? Just how do you plan to stop me?”
Jackson shoves inside with one hard thrust.
“Uh,” I pant.
“Just. Like. This.”
Jackson
It’s Wednesday before my house is released and the window replaced. The bullet that grazed Chelsea passed through the drywall and lodged itself into a wall stud. That repair was a simple touchup after police retrieved the slug.
I’m finally back in my own house, cleaning up what was disturbed in the struggle. Chelsea is also here, experiencing my home the right way. I cook dinner for her, a baked salmon served over jasmine rice with garlic, lemon, and caper butter sauce.
We take care of cleanup duty together and relocate to the sofa in the living room to watch MASH reruns. “Hey, I forgot to tell you. O’Reilly relayed a bit of good news from the admiral today. Iron Strike is back in business. Fearing a lawsuit, the US Army offered a settlement to the CEO and issued a formal and public apology to the contractors that were caught up in the massacre.”
Chelsea shakes her head. “I hope every dime goes to Benson and his men. God knows they’ve earned it.”