Page 85

Jackson

It’s been a night.

The fee to have the car cleaned was not an issue.

I felt bad for the driver for having to deal with it, though.

My shoes and the bottom of my pants have been wiped off as much as they could and are already in the cleaning bag with her shoes outside my door.

I managed to get some plain baked potato and a little water in her before she laid down on the couch and passed out.

I plug her phone in next to mine on the kitchen counter to make sure it’s charged by the time she wakes up. Grabbing a bottle of water, I lean against the counter exhausted and down the contents. The cool liquid feels good as it slides down my throat.

Dropping my head, I rub the bridge of my nose, thinking I should try to go to bed.

I want to stay awake as long as I can to make sure she’s okay, though.

After holding her hair and rubbing her back as she threw up in the bathroom, I helped her shower in hopes of sobering her up.

She grabbed my sweatpants and one of my T-shirts before saying she should stay on the leather couch “just in case” she vomited again.

I don’t think it really works like that, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. I’m just glad she’s finally resting.

Refilling the bottle from the pitcher of cold water from the fridge, I put it back and turn to go check on Marlow when a buzz on the countertop stops me. I turn to see a message on the screen of Marlow’s phone: You’re fired.

Fuck .

I’m still not sure what happened with Casteleone, but using the reservation might not have been the wisest idea.

Of course, I didn’t bother with that bullshit.

If I’m getting a table, I’m getting it on my name alone .

. . and the little lie that I was celebrating my wife’s promotion.

The hostess was endeared by the gesture.

Right time.

Right place.

It almost all worked out. Until her mom showed up.

I’m not sure where we’ll stand when she wakes up. She was just getting settled into a new life that was created in her best interests, for her happiness, instead of curated by narcissists.

I’m best for her.

It took her so fucking long to see me as anything more than an extension of our friends’ crew. Sex might have opened the door for us, but I walked through. Me. I fucking walked through that door and showed up for her.

Fuck her mom.

Fuck her dad.

Fuck her boss and anyone else who dares to mess with my girl. She doesn’t need any of them because she’s got me in her corner. I’ll be there however she needs me if it helps her see she’s better off without them.

I walk to the office and dig through the closet, pulling a pillow and my sleeping bag from the depths.

Dumping them in the hall, I continue to the bathroom and brush my teeth.

Running my hand over the rough hairs on my cheek, I know I need to shave, but I’m too tired.

Dark circles are also highlighted in the unnatural light of the bathroom.

Standing shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts hanging low on my hips, I realize it’s been a while since I’ve hit the gym.

No big changes, but those dinner dates with Marlow and the holiday parties are starting to show a bit.

I need to start exercising again—because it keeps me calm when my job is the opposite.

And it’s something I want to start doing with Marlow. I’m not sure what her preferred form of physical activity is, but I hope we can find something to do together outside of the bedroom. Although that is my favorite form of exercise with her.

Exercise might be another way we can do life together. I’ll bring it up to her tomorrow, and hopefully, she’ll like the idea.

I finish up and scoop the pillow and bag when I walk down the hall. Moving the coffee table away from the couch, I set up camp on the floor next to her. I take the blanket that’s started to slip and pull it a little higher, not wanting to disturb her sleep, then kiss her on the head.

Her life’s a mess, but who doesn’t have a rough patch here and there. I crawl into the sleeping bag and adjust my pillow under my head. Staring up at the ceiling, I listen to her breathing. It’s quiet and steady, content even.

I look at her sleeping on her side, facing my direction.

Her hair needed washing, but she didn’t have the energy to blow-dry it, so she twisted it up on top of her head after running a towel over it.

The collar of my shirt hangs over her shoulders, exposing the skin to the cool air.

I reach up and tug the blanket higher. She doesn’t stir.

Lying back down, I close my eyes, taking the time to rest. I’m not sure how she’ll react, but I imagine seeing that text in the morning will feel like another blow to the life she’s trying to rebuild.

It’s a life she’s determined to define on her own terms for the first time. But it has me wondering where I fit in.

I close my eyes, steadying my breaths to sync with hers, and try to calm my mind. What happens tomorrow isn’t a riddle I can solve tonight, but the sun will soon shed new light on everything.

When I tighten my arms around her, my nose is tickled, and the scent of flowers fills each breath I take. Arms and legs, cotton, and a deep heat creep over me, making my dick get hard. “Marlow,” I whisper just before opening my eyes.

Sometime in the night, she squeezed right into the sleeping bag with me. She’s still asleep, but she stirs as soon as I move my head back to get a better look at her. Her hand hits my chin, and then her knee jolts forward. I’m quick to protect the boys, but there’s not much room to move.

Her eyelids flutter open, and my sweet girl doesn’t show any signs of the hurt she experienced last night. Right here as the sunrise sneaks in through the windows, we stare into each other’s eyes.

Tears start to fill her eyes, and I just can’t have that. Even if only for a short time, I’ll do what I can to keep her safe from the outside world. I kiss her and slide my knee between her legs. Her arms reach around my neck as I glide my fingers down her back.

Together, we roll so I’m on top of her, balancing my weight over her incredible body.

It’s only a few seconds, but I look in her eyes, seeing the gray fade into the bright blue, a sadness tainting them in ways that the sunshine can’t fight.

I whisper, “It’s okay,” and then dip my head to kiss her cheek.

Holding me, she presses the back of her head into the pillow as I cover her face in kisses and then move down her neck. Her middle wriggles beneath me, and then she uses her feet and legs to lower the sweatpants around her ankles. Using my foot, I push down until she’s freed.

She dips her arms down and starts lowering my shorts.

Her knee and then her foot help me to escape them.

She giggles when the shirt gets stuck around her head.

I toss it, and then it’s just us, skin to skin and a connection that can’t be stolen from us.

No matter who or what tries, we’re bonded together.

Our lips come together as I align myself on top of her again.

I push in, causing her head to dip back and a quieter gasp to escape both of us.

I’ll never tire of the feeling of conquering the universe when we’re tangled up in each other.

There’s no greater high than being with the woman I’ve loved deeper than I thought possible.

Pulling back, I take it slow when I push back in. Her hips meet me halfway, but then she squirms, and words are whispered encouraging me for more—faster, harder, to take her away to that place that we only meet when we’re together like this.

My body moves on its own accord, driving forward, taking her to that special place where our souls become one, even if only for a few seconds. The love, the light, the passion, a forever we never planned—it’s all there for the taking. All we have to do is reach that destination.

Together.

She kisses the side of my head as I drive us there, pushing us to the edge of this reality just to be lost in another. “I love you. I love you. I love you so much,” I breathe on the cusp of that bliss, the abyss that will lead from the safest path and into the depths where we can’t turn back.

With her legs wrapped around my middle, her moans reach my ears before her words, but I smile when she says, “I’m so in love with you.”

I pull back and anchor my arms on the pillow on either side of her head, I push forward. We don’t kiss. We grin.

Smiles and light.

A part of my soul is sacrificed at her altar; my demise offered on a silver platter to return the joy that’s now returned to her eyes.

She runs her hands over my shoulders and up my neck.

She caresses my face as we move together, and then I’m kissed just as our bodies peak.

Tiny quakes ripple through me as I push and thrust over and over until I lose my hold on .

. . on . . . “Fuck,” I growl as my release rips through me.

“Jackson,” she says, her voice weak as her orgasm hits, dragging her under when her eyes suddenly close and mouth falls open.

I kiss her. I kiss her, stealing everything she’ll give me—her lips and harsh breaths, hips pounding against mine, and ever tremble of her body—weightlessly returning to me and this new day.

And then I do what I promised myself I never would. I selfishly put my needs ahead of hers, cupping her face, and begging her, “Stay with me.”