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Chapter Twenty-Eight

IZZIE

I talked to Jackson only once on the ice, then he got pulled away by other people who wanted to congratulate the captain. The experience was all overwhelming. I spoke to so many friendly strangers that I lost my voice.

I did see Wickham, but he stayed far away from me and Jane. I might not know what he did to get on Jackson’s shit list, but my last interaction with the man told me all I needed to know. Wickham is not someone I want to associate with anymore.

I hung out at the arena for an hour or so after the game. It was party central in the Lions’ zone. Then Mom, Dad, and Lydia went home. I stayed with Jane, because the party is continuing at Chad’s house, and now Jane is officially the hostess. She hasn’t completely moved in yet, but she brought a lot of her stuff to the house earlier today.

Unfortunately, Caroline came as well, and she tried so hard to take over. She thought Jane would be a doormat due to her sweet disposition. It was awesome to witness my sister put Caroline in her place.

The boys aren’t back yet, so it’s only some of the WAGs—the ones who didn’t have to go home with kids—who are hanging out by the pool and drinking cocktails, plus Caroline and me. It’s not cold, but Jane started a fire just the same for ambience, and we’re all gathered around it, making s’mores.

“How drunk do you think the boys are right now?” Jane asks.

“Drunk enough to pass out in a dumpster wearing nothing but their underwear,” Blair, Alex’s girlfriend, replies.

This is my first time hanging out with her, and so far, she’s my favorite WAG. At first, I was a bit surprised she was Alex’s girlfriend. He and his brother are loud and goofy when they aren’t being total menaces on the ice, and she’s super proper, and calm. But soon I discovered she has a wicked sense of humor, and sharp tongue. She’s absolutely perfect for him.

We all laugh, then I ask, “Wait, that’s oddly specific. Has Alex done that before?”

She nods, and Sammy, Logan’s girlfriend, adds, “Oh yeah.”

“I want to know the story,” I say.

Blair and Sammy trade a look, then Blair replies, “It happened after they won the Frozen Four in their last year playing college hockey.”

“That was a wild night!” Sammy laughs.

“Oh, you bet this will be even wilder,” Caroline pipes up. “I’m gonna text Jackson again to ask when they’re coming.”

I try not to react. Caroline has been texting Jackson all night. As far as I know, he hasn’t answered any of her messages, but I’m still bothered.

“Did he answer any of your texts?” Sammy asks, as if she’d read my mind.

Caroline squares her shoulders. “No. He probably doesn’t have his phone on him.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out quickly to see what Manuel wants now. We’ve been texting all night. In the last text, he bragged about his tips, and I answered him with a middle finger emoji.

But the text isn’t from Manuel. It’s from Jackson. My heart does a cartwheel in giddiness.

JACKSON: On r way. Can’t wait to celly with you.

I have to read the message again to make sure I’m not seeing things. Then a seed of doubt penetrates my brain. What if that text wasn’t meant for me? Caroline has been blowing up his phone all night. Maybe he meant to reply to one of her million messages.

Shit.

Are you sure you want to “celly” with ME?

I hit send before I change my mind. The reply was innocent enough. If he made a mistake, it’s no big deal.

I stare at my phone and wait for a reply, but after a minute of nothing, I realize I’m acting like an idiot. I put the phone away and get up.

“Where are you going?” Jane asks.

“I have to pee,” I lie.

I just need a moment alone to recover from the texting fail. He’s drunk, Izzie . It’s possible he passed out in the car. I know none of the players are driving. The team had cars on standby to drive everyone home.

I lock myself in the bathroom and end up doing what I said I would. Then I try to fix my appearance. My hair is frizzier than usual, thanks to the humidity, and my makeup is long gone, and I have nothing with me to fix it. I’ll have to raid Jane’s stuff. I leave the hallway bathroom and head upstairs to the master bedroom. Jane hasn’t moved in completely yet, and I’m weirded out to be roaming the house by myself. But I’m too tipsy to care.

Chad’s bedroom decor is very masculine, with dark walls and furniture. I’m sure a redecoration will be happening in the near future, because this is so not Jane’s style.

I find everything I need in the ensuite bathroom. I splash my face with cold water first, then I apply light makeup. I leave my hair alone. The only way to fix it is to wash it, and I’m not about to take a shower in Chad’s bathroom.

Feeling a bit better now that I don’t look like something a cat chewed up and spat out, I head back to the party. But when I reach the ground floor and hear male voices, I freeze. The guys have arrived.

My pulse accelerates. Jackson is here, and I still don’t know what he meant by his text. Then he walks into my line of sight, and our gazes connect. It’s like my entire body goes haywire. My stomach flutters, and breathing becomes difficult. He smiles, but instead of reciprocating, I pivot and enter the first room to my left, which turns out to be Chad’s home office. It’s big enough to fit a wall-to-wall bookshelf, a sturdy mahogany desk, and a brown leather couch.

Illumination comes from the tall window facing the water, and if I stood close enough, I could probably see the pool area.

The door opens behind me, and I turn around as Jackson comes in. My heart leaps into my throat, and the gremlins in my belly act up. I shuffle back until I’m flat against the bookshelf. God, I’m shaking. Why am I shaking?

“There you are,” he says in a husky voice. “Were you trying to hide from me?”

“What?” I squeak. “Why would I hide from you?”

He walks toward me, and with each step he takes in my direction, my heart seems to beat faster. He must have showered recently, because his hair is still damp, and I can smell his citrusy cologne from where I stand.

“Because of the text I sent.” He stops in front of me, invading my personal space. Mercy… it’s hard to breathe now.

“You never replied to mine.”

He cups my cheek tenderly, sending chills of desire down my spine. “I wanted to answer you in person. Yes, Izzie Bennet, I want to celebrate with you .”

“Why?” My gaze drops to his lips.

“You know why. Come on, Izzie. We’re adults here. We know what’s going on between us.”

I look into his eyes again, and they’re hooded, burning with need. “We do? I thought I did, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Maybe this will remind you.” He slants his lips over mine possessively, and even though I’ve been secretly fantasizing with this moment, the reaction his kiss draws from me is much more potent than I expected.

Fire erupts in the pit of my stomach and spreads through my body, burning me from the inside out. I clutch his arms, surrendering to Jackson and his panties-melting, toe-curling kiss. He tastes like the first drops of rain and the ocean breeze. God, what am I thinking? That doesn’t make any sense.

He abandons my mouth to trail open kisses down my neck. Goose bumps form on my arms, and my nipples harden. I arch my back, granting him all the access he needs, and thread my fingers through his hair. He keeps exploring with his tongue and his hands. My need for him intensifies, and when he pulls the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts, I let out a whimper.

“You’re so beautiful, Izzie.” He runs his tongue over one nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

Damn it. It feels so good .

“Jackson…” I twist my fingers around strands of his hair and pull a little.

He releases my nipple with a wet pop and looks at up. “What is it, gorgeous?”

“Are we really doing this?”

His brows crease. “You don’t want to?”

When I don’t answer right away, he leans back, but I stop him. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” I frame his handsome face with my hands and crush my lips to his.

He answers in kind, matching my passion with each stroke of his tongue against mine. I melt against his body as if I want to meld myself to him. He runs his hands down my back until he finds my ass and squeezes. Glued to his frame as I am, his rock-hard erection presses against my belly.

I slide my hand between our bodies and try to grab his cock, but Jackson steps back and turns me around, trapping me from behind. “I want to feel how wet you are for me, my sweet Izzie.”

My sweet Izzie.

God, I never knew I’d love those words coming out of Jackson’s mouth.

He pulls my skirt up and then glides his fingers under my panties. When he grazes my clit, my legs buckle under me, and if it weren’t for his hold on me, I’d have collapsed.

“Do you like when I touch you, beautiful?” he whispers in my ear.

“Yes,” I hiss, closing my eyes.

“How much do you like it?” He swipes his finger left and right, leaving me panting.

“A little bit,” I lie just to see where he’s going with this.

“Just a little bit, huh? We have to change that.” He moves his hand down, and then his fingers are inside me. “How about now?”

“It’s... somewhat... better.”

If he keeps this up, I’m going to come soon.

“Hmm… I think you’re lying, Izzie.” He bites my earlobe, then fucks me in earnest with his fingers while applying pressure to my clit with the heel of his hand.

Hell. He figured me out, and it’s… glorious. I forget where we are and who we are. Instead, I surrender to his hot breath against my skin, to the feel of his chest against my back, and to the pressure building between my legs. Before I know it, the climax hits me like a damn puck going ninety miles per hour. I moan loudly, only for Jackson to cover my mouth with his free hand.

“Shhh… beautiful. We don’t want to get caught just yet.”

I should question why he said just yet , but I’m too focused on riding the orgasm. After a moment, he pulls his fingers from my pussy and pinches my chin to turn my face to his. Then he claims my mouth again. It’s crazy how his kiss makes me delirious and craving more.

But I’m done letting him take charge. I pivot in his arms and finally reach for his pants. “I think it’s time for your cock to come out and play.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.” I open his fly and free his dick from his underwear, then curl my fingers around his very thick girth.

He runs one hand through my hair, then grabs a chunk of it and pulls my face to his. This isn’t a kiss, it’s a branding of tongue and teeth. The question is, who’s branding whom?

“Fuck, I need to be inside you, Izzie,” he murmurs against my lips.

“We’re on the same page then.”

He steps back and shoves a hand in his back pocket, then produces a condom wrapper. “Do me the honor?”

I smirk and take the packet from him. “Sure.”

He steps into my space again, cupping my face. “I like your hands on me.”

My heart seems to skip a beat. “I like your hands on me too.”

I tear open the wrapper, then roll the condom down his erection. No sooner is the task done than Jackson lifts me off the floor, and I spread my legs and wrap them around his hips. He slides home before I can say fuck me , and then that’s what he does.

I forget that my back is now pressed against the bookshelf, or that anyone could walk in on us. All that matters is Jackson, pounding into me. He’s not taking it slow, and that’s exactly what I want—what I need from him. This is the culmination of the tension that’s been building between us since the first time we met.

Jackson’s mouth is on my neck when I climax again. “Yes, yes, oh don’t stop.”

“I don’t want to stop, sweetheart.” He kisses me hard and fast, then he shudders and groans, “Fuck!”

He moves faster, rattling the bookshelf behind me. Something falls to the floor and shatters, but the noise is muffled thanks to the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

After one final jerky thrust, Jackson stops moving and hides his face in the crook of my neck. I sag against him, closing my eyes because the room is spinning.

He leans back and kisses my cheek. “Are you okay?”

I look into his eyes. “I’m more than okay.”

He rewards me with a crooked grin. “This is by far the best celly ever.”

My heart soars, but now that the lust fog is dispersing, the reality of our situation comes crashing in, dampening my post-orgasm bliss. I know exactly what this new feeling inside my chest is, and I’m terrified that it’s only one-sided.

“We should get back to the party before they notice our absence.”

No sooner do I say that than the door opens, and Caroline’s voice shatters our moment, “Jacks, are you— oh .”

Without looking at her, he replies, “I’ll be out in a moment, Carol.”

I can’t see her face because Jackson is blocking the view, but I can imagine. Of all the people to catch us, it had to be the woman with the biggest crush on Jackson. Fuck. Me.