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Consequences later.
Who was I to stop us?
“Wow,” Jackson murmured, nuzzling his nose with mine. His minty breath held a hint of something darker—sweeter. Did he smoke? Chew? Was he a different type of rebel altogether? I wanted to delve into his story and be buried by the pages of his book. I inhaled again, pretending to catch my breath while, in truth, I needed more of his scent to surround me and comfort me. The depth of the woodsy notes from his cologne combined with clover and anise, balancing the complexity of the perfume.
“Is this how you talk, Jackson?” I couldn’t believe the husky quality of my voice. My fingers trembled as I slid my hand down his chest. “By cornering defenseless women and kissing them senseless?”
He leaned in, his breath brushing the curve of my ear. “Is this how you seduce, Waverly? By enchanting flustered men and kissing them stupid?”
“Touché.” I mouthed the words across his lips.
“This wasn’t the introduction I had been expecting,” he confessed.
I agreed.
This was more.
“Would you like to try again?”
He shook his head.
“What would you like?”
“Everything,” he said.
We were two teenagers on the cusp of adulthood, and we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. We were horny. Involved. Desperately clinging to one another as we drowned in the decadence descending upon both of us.
“For tonight, then?” I stared at him through my lashes, fascinated by the play of colors on his cheeks. Peony and reds highlighting his freckles until they stood out in relief against his skin. This boy—man—he was it. The one. I wondered if the connection building within me also propagated within him. The cloying, clawing need. The thread of destiny beginning to twine our souls together.
Gross, I sounded like a lovesick poet.
Except, “Me like. Me suck face. Me pound uglies”—was probably what my brother’s internal monologue proclaimed at one point, not that I would ask Ireland any time soon, because ew—didn’t fit me.
I wanted the purple proses and the whimsical. I wanted Ed Sheeran crooning his favorite songs while Jackson whispered sweet words in my ear. I wanted a bed filled with flower petals and candlelight.
Most of all, I wanted Jackson.
“Just for this evening.” I asked for one night because this bizarre feeling couldn’t be real. It was lust. A dangerous beast ready to pounce and shred us to pieces. A yearning too big for us to tame. We were still kids.
Not yet adults.
“Tonight,” he agreed. “Where?”
Tough question, though I knew of all the locations we could go. Inside, the house seemed to be the least dangerous for the time being. My mom and dad had stepped outside to join the others, leaving the Mack’s place empty. Like Macey, I had a room in Mack’s home for times when I wanted to spend the night before heading back to college, since his house was the halfway point between Nashville andMurfreesboro.
Sliding from his arms, he held me close until my feet hit the ground. I threaded my fingers with his. “My room.” A forbiddance consumed me as though I were doing something naughty while my parents were only a few feet away.
And I supposed we were.
Anticipation raced through my veins. A steady beat of pleasure flowed through me. This was crazy. I didn’t do this. A single hello and I wanted to be set ablaze by this man. This was the very definition of insanity. Yet, as many times as I told myself to slow down and think things through, the racing need to have this boy—man—touching me inside and out obscured the voice of reason.
We raced to my room, where Jackson closed and locked the door behind us. He slid off his suspenders while I removed my long cardigan and kicked off my boots. It became a randy game of who could get undressed the fastest, causing me to giggle more with each passing second.
When he stood before me, naked and sure, my heart lodged in my throat. His body, lean and muscular, took my breath away. He was framed by sheer curtains, lace and pastel colors surrounding my bed. Nervous energy churned in my stomach. I stood there, just as naked as him, waiting. The tick of the second hand on my bedside clock broke the silence as our breaths mingled. Jackson’s intense gaze caressed my goose bump covered flesh, taking in every inch of my body. My nipples hardened. My clit throbbed.
I was a live wire ready to explode.
If neither of us made the move, I would die.