Page 61

Jackson

“Do you mind unzipping me?” Marlow bats her eyelashes while looking at me over her shoulder. Now standing before me, she’s already well-aware of the answer without me saying it.

I kiss the curvature of her neck before unzipping the dress from her lower back and farther over the mound of her ass.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn gorgeous?” I reach the end of the zipper.

My cock stirs as I unwrap her red dress like a present I’ve waited for all year—savoring every moment.

Placing my palm flat on her warm skin, I slide it down her spine.

And then I follow with kisses, appreciating every inch of her with my lips.

Her body shivers when I blow across the trail I’ve left behind. Letting the dress fall to the floor, I expose her dangerously sexy curves, and then she moves back on the bed and rolls over. “You’ve never been big on foreplay before, St. James.”

Marlow’s never been shy, but with that body and her fantastic tits, she shouldn’t be.

“I like foreplay.” Leaning over her, I plant my hands on either side of her head and kiss her cheek. “Especially with you.”

She takes hold of my lapels, keeping me close. “What are we doing?”

“Sex. You’re familiar with it from my recollection.”

That smile just about does me in—bright and drop-dead gorgeous like she is. “Funny. But you know what I mean. We always said we’d stop when emotions got involved. It’s feeling a lot like they’re already pretty damn involved.”

“People change. Feelings change. Is that a bad thing?”

Tugging my jacket over my shoulders, she whispers, “Not bad. Different. New. Maybe we should?—”

“Talk about this tomorrow?”

“I agree. I’d rather get back to this sex you mentioned.”

Chuckling, I push off the bed and let the jacket hit the floor. “Are you going to take that strip of lace off or lie there teasing me like that all night?”

She lifts her foot and runs it along the inside of my leg. “You’re not the only one who enjoys teasing.” The tip of her foot rubs my erection. I make no apologies for being hard for the woman. She’s sexy as fuck.

Taking matters into my own hands, I grab the band of black lace on her right hip, and ask, “Do you want these to remain in one piece?”

Her grin disappears under a look of shock. “They’re Agent Provocateur.”

“And?”

Her sweet lips part, and eyes widen again. “You better not, Jack?—”

The ripping of the lace causes her to gasp. I wink. “I’ll buy you more underwear.”

Lying in nothing but that incredible birthday suit, she smirks when the shock finally subsides. “You better.”

“You didn’t honestly expect that thin strip of lace to protect you?”

An ember sparks to life in her eyes, yet she plays coy with a slight dip of her chin. “Protect me from what, St. James?”

Taking her foot, I run my tongue along the arch and then lift it onto my shoulder before kissing her inner thigh. “From the Big Bad Wolf.”

She tucks her hands under her head and watches me with captivated interest while letting me indulge in the creaminess of her skin. “I’ve never been one for fairy tales.”

I rest my lips against her thigh. “Who disappointed you so badly that you don’t believe in happily ever afters? I thought all girls believed in fairy tales.”

Without missing a beat, she replies, “Everyone. And for the record, I’m all grown up.”

“You sure are, but how about we make another deal? Just for tonight.”

Shifting, she tilts her head to the side, her gaze dipping down my body. “What deal?”

I stare at her, wondering if I dare cross another line with her tonight. First kissing and now . . . “When we’re in here, when we’re together like this, forget about everyone else because, unlike the world, I won’t disappoint you, Marlow.”

She smiles—genuine and sweet, that honeyed side not seen by many. I’ve borne witness to it many times between us. “You never do in the bedroom.”

The sting from how specific she is slights against my skin, but for now, I let it go. I’ll leave heavier topics for another day because she wants to forget about anything outside this room tonight. And I’ll make that wish come true.

Her fingers weave into my hair while I keep kissing and then nibble just shy of where I know she really wants my mouth.

Pushing up, I stand and start on the buttons of my shirt. “Since you’re so into teasing.”

She laughs and then scoots up the mattress.

Leaning against the walnut headboard, she settles in unabashedly, watching me as if this show is just for her.

It is if I’m being truthful. I like the way she looks at me.

I like that I can see her breathing deepen as I strip another layer of clothing away from my body.

But I really fucking love when she starts wiggling from the need blooming inside her, when we’re on the precipice of our bodies being together again.

I grab a condom from the nightstand and stand next to the bed. “I want you to put it on me.”

She acts all proper for everyone else, playing a role for them.

She’s a woman who’s used to being given everything she wants, but she’s bored of the gilded cage that she’s been placed in.

She can be who she really is with me, and that’s never more herself than when we’re tangled in the sheets.

She takes the packet and gets to her knees before me.

And I fucking love it. This is my Marlow.

The one behind closed doors. There’s so much more to her than the rest of the world sees. It took years to get here. I thought she was nothing more than a spoiled princess, a Hollywood kid from famous parents who ate up the socialite title.

I was too blind to see who she really was back then, but now that I have, her beauty is more than skin deep. And despite what she says or how she acts around others, I know she cares about me. That’s what scares her.

Kissing my shoulder, she drags her hand down the center of my chest. She presses the packet to my stomach— the tease —and then bends to kiss me lower. I suck in a breath when she slides my cock into her mouth. Gripping the base, she holds me steady as she sucks in her cheeks and then slides off me.

She drags the packet against me and then rips it open. “How about we stop teasing each other and get to the main event?”

Shaking my head, I chuckle. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Sliding the condom over my hardness, she smirks. “Trust me, I want you alive and well for this.”

Cupping her chin, I take a deep breath and release a sigh. What am I going to do with her?

Sexually —I already knew back at the party. Sex with her is always phenomenal.

Emotionally —this is foreign territory.

By the uncertainty in her eyes, I’m not alone.

There’s not one part of our bodies that we haven’t openly shared. But the walls have remained in place when it came to anything deeper.

I climb onto the bed and right on top of her. Her legs butterfly open for me, and her arms come around my neck. Resting on my forearms on either side of her head, I say, “I’m thinking we should try that kissing thing again.”

“What are you waiting for?”

I don’t. Not any longer. I kiss her firmly on the mouth as I position myself at her entrance. The heat between us penetrates the cool air as soon as my dick touches the apex of her legs.

Deepening the kiss, I push in, capturing her gasp. Her nails dig in as she holds me, her tongue finding and then twisting with mine.

I pull my hips back and push back in, wanting to lose myself in the ecstasy of her warm embrace.

The sounds of our connection fade under the sensation, her moans and hearing her beg for more, faster, spur me to drive harder.

The rhythm of our bodies together and then apart, the push and pull, the impatience, the love, the like , and everything we’ve ever said or felt for each other mix into a singular goal—my name from her lips for the whole fucking city to hear.

And kissing her? Marlow is an incredible kisser—like nothing else exists but this connection with me. This newfound intimacy heightens every sensation we’ve ever shared.

Sliding my hand between us, I find her clit and rub small circles, causing her to buck against me. One more rotation of my hips and hand, and I’m rewarded.

“Jackson . . .” My name rips from her throat before Marlow digs the back of her head into the pillow—mouth open, eyes clamped closed, body trembling around mine—and then a stuttering breath is exhaled before she’s collapsing beneath me.

With her arms still wrapped around my neck, I stay close, but the sight of her falling apart sends me into my own completion. “Oh, fuck,” I growl, my body charging into the release. Swept into the ecstasy, I freefall into it, letting my mind rest as my body vibrates.

The fog clears, and I exhale, dropping on top of her before rolling off to the side, sated.

We don’t speak or rush to move.

Heavy pants fill the air until our breaths and speeding hearts settle into a manageable rate. I reach for her hand, my fingertips touching the tips of hers. She takes the offer, and we lie there a little longer.

I turn to her, and whisper, “Happy New Year.” It’s then that I see the glisten in her eyes as she stares up at the ceiling, a desperation in her features willing the tears away. I angle toward her and brush the hair back from her face. “What’s wrong?”

She glances at me. “Nothing.” Sweeping fallen strands away from my forehead, she takes a breath. “Everything is so right.” She lifts to kiss my cheek and then my mouth once more. Her lips linger while a tear streaks down her face, landing where our chins meet. “Thank you.”

I swallow, not sure I’ve ever seen her cry before.

And not exactly something I wanted to experience after having sex either.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck and bring her closer to kiss her forehead and then the apple of her cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her mouth.

The liquid coating her eyes subsides, so I fall back on the pillow, and ask, “Thank you for what?”

“An amazing night.”

I realize then that despite our best efforts, we’re never going to be the same—a casual hookup when we were lonely, a secret affair that we kept hidden from most of the world, friends with benefits with no strings attached.

All it took was one kiss at the stroke of midnight, and a million strings attached. But I don’t broach that, especially not after sex. I lean into what I know she wants from me—easy and carefree. It’s the safest place to be. “It was literally my pleasure, so I can’t take much credit.”

She laughs, lying back on the mattress. “As good as the sex?—”

“Good?”

Rolling her eyes, she giggles. “Great. As great as sex is with you . . .” She looks over at me again, her smile genuine in its placement. “I didn’t know what to expect at midnight, but you didn’t disappoint.”

“So what you’re saying is I don’t disappoint in the bedroom or outside these walls?” Hope grows wings.

Her laughter is heartier, feeding my ego and making me feel like the king of the world. “I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

I kiss her shoulder. “See? That wasn’t so hard to admit.”

She sighs, shaking her head. “For a man who can have any woman he wants, you sure do need a lot of stroking of the ego.”

Does she not see how she’s the only one I want? I won’t be the one to ruin the fun, though. “It’s not my ego that needs the stroking.”

Slipping out of bed before I can catch her, she says, “Good to know, hotshot.” When she goes into the bathroom, I spread my arms wide. As much as I love this massive bed, I sure the fuck like having her in it with me, taking up space not only here but also in my day-to-day life.

We swap, and I decide to shower. By the time I return, she’s close to being asleep, so I hold her in my arms, wrapping myself around the back of her and soaking in how good we are together.

It’s a new year. Time for a fresh start. Maybe it’s our time as well.

I drift off after her breathing has steadied, finding comfort in the possibility of what tomorrow brings.