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Chapter Forty-Seven

IZZIE

W hen I wake up thanks to a pesky ringtone, I’m lying on my side, and Jackson is spooning me.

“What’s that godawful noise?” he grumbles.

“My phone.”

“Turn it off, I beg you.” He pulls me closer, pressing his morning wood against my ass.

And just like that, I’m wide awake.

I pick up my phone to see who’s calling me. “It’s Jane.”

“Let it go to voicemail.” He slides his hand down my stomach until his fingers are between my legs.

“Hmm… tempting. But I need to know why she’s calling me. I’m the maid of honor, after all.”

“As long as you can multitask.” He swipes his index finger over my clit while coaxing my legs open with his thigh.

“Jackson… what are you doing?”

“What do you think, gorgeous? I’m getting my fill.” Now his cock is teasing my entrance.

I shudder, melting against him.

“You’d better get that,” he whispers in my ear while sliding inside me slowly.

“Oh dear. This will be hard.”

He chuckles. “That’s what she said.”

I laugh too. “Shut up.”

“Okay.” He bites my earlobe while moving in and out of me at a steady pace.

My voice is shaky when I say, “Hello?”

“Hey, did I wake you?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? It’s already nine. Does that mean someone kept you up all night?”

A moan bubbles up my throat. Shit. How am I going to reply without letting it out? Jackson is not giving me any reprieve. His thrusts are precise and hitting me in the right spot, plus his fingers are pure magic. I’m unravelling already.

“Izzie? Are you there?”

“Yep. Sorry. I don’t feel so good.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Jackson murmurs in my ear.

“Oh no. You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just a bit hungover. I hung out with Grayson and Frederico last night.”

“What about Jackson?”

I curl my toes, trying to prevent my body from combusting while I’m still talking to Jane.

“Didn’t you see him last night?” she continues.

“Yeah. Briefly. He was a jackass.”

He pinches my clit in retaliation, and hell and damn, it breaks my self-control, and I can’t stop the orgasm. I cover the phone with my hand and shove my face against the pillow to muffle my moans. Jackson snickers. He is jackass.

“Oh no. I’m so sorry, Izzie.”

Now I feel bad about lying to her. I might come clean as soon as I see her in person.

“It’s okay,” I reply after I find my voice. “When are you getting here?”

“In about twenty minutes. Let’s have breakfast together.”

“Sounds good. See you soon.”

I end the call before Jane can say bye, but only because Jackson is moving faster now, and the mattress is squeaking.

“You’re terrible.” I tell him.

“You called me a jackass.”

“I’m supposed to hate you.”

He pinches my chin and turns my face to him. “Hate fucks are the best.”

“Yes… yes they are.”

He claims my lips, kissing me deeply while pounding into me. Not surprisingly, he makes me come again before he climaxes himself. If he’s trying to break some kind of record, I volunteer as a tribute.

* * *

JACKSON

I miss getting caught leaving Izzie’s room by a few seconds. I stayed too long, and as I’m about to round the corner, I hear the ping of the elevator, and then Jane’s and Chad’s voices in the hallway. There’s no denying what I’ve been up too. I’m only wearing pants, and I’m carrying my shoes and shirt in my hands. I hurry to my room, and no sooner do I close the door than my phone rings. It’s Chad.

Damn. A second earlier, and he’d have heard it from the hallway.

“Hey.”

“Don’t hey me. Why is Izzie saying you were a jackass?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Why did Izzie have to tell her sister that?

“No clue.”

“Yeah, right. Come on, Jacks. Is it because she shot you down?”

“Don’t remind me.”

He sighs, exasperated. “You’re an idiot. Why do you think she came earlier?”

I smirk, thinking about what went down in my bedroom. “To harass me?”

“No, dumbass. She likes you, and I’m starting to wonder why.”

I want to laugh. Chad calling me a dumbass is too funny. But I have to swallow my amusement. “Did you call to yell at me? I just woke up and haven’t had coffee yet.”

“Come have breakfast with us then. We’re meeting in the lobby in ten minutes.”

“I’m gonna need more than ten minutes.”

And I’m fairly certain Izzie needs the extra time too.

“Fine. Fifteen then. And you’d better be nice to Izzie.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior as long as she is.”

“You’re both acting like children. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

I suppose we are acting childish by pretending to be at odds, but what’s a wedding weekend without drama? It’s better if it’s fake than real. Although, considering the families involved, there’s a high chance there will be plenty of real fires to put out.