Oh. My. Fingering. Gods.
I cannot believe that just happened. One minute I’m waiting for Jackson in some weird back hallway, then suddenly I’m wrapped around him like a baby koala. Kissing him like the meaning of life is hiding inside his mouth. Then before I even know what hit me, he’s talking dirty, sliding his hand inside my Biggest Fan undies, and getting me off like it’s his damn job. And holy amazing orgasms, he did a damn fine job. I should probably be embarrassed at how quickly I came, but I’ll just let that be a compliment to his skills.
It’s a freaking wonder that I’m even able to walk right now. I think I’m still shaking. And Jackson’s just walking beside me, leading the way to his car, like nothing completely insane just happened. To be fair, our bar for normal is set at a different height than most couples.
But, are we a couple? I mean he did just have his hand in my pants, and he kissed me in front of a whole arena full of people. But… Nope, not going there right now. My brain still hasn’t recovered.
Looking down at me, because he’s tall and we are side by side, Jackson catches me eyeing him.
He raises his brows in question.
“Is there anything you aren’t good at?” My tone is admittedly a little irritated.
“I’m pretty bad at drawing.” He smirks.
I scowl.
He grins. “Kitten, are you annoyed that I’m good with my fingers?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “I’m pleased. Literally. I’m just annoyed that you seem to have the Midas touch with literally everything you do. It’s not fair to us mere mortals.”
“Are you saying that I just turned your pussy into gold?”
I laugh, even though I try not to. “Wow, so humble.”
Jackson lets go of my hand, but before I can protest, he wraps his arm around my shoulder.
Stopping to pull open a door, he kisses the top of my head.
Swoon.
It appears he’s led me to some sort of hidden garage where the players park.
I’m not sure what I expected Jackson to drive, but I’m pleasantly surprised to see that it’s a nice, but not overtly flashy, SUV. It’s all black, windows and wheels included, and it kind of looks like a cop car. It’s probably very expensive, but it’s subtle. Acting like a true gentleman, if we disregard the hallway scene from a few minutes ago, Jackson walks me to the passenger side and opens my door. It’s a rather tall vehicle, and Jackson doesn’t miss the opportunity to put his hand on my ass, guiding me into my seat.
Gently closing my door, he circles around the hood and climbs into the driver’s side. Before putting the car in drive, I watch him pull up a contact on his phone and select the address. It must be mine since he’s bringing me home.
As Jackson pulls out of the parking spot, I finally ask him what I’ve been wondering. “How did you get all my contact stuff?”
“Hmm? Oh, from Daniel.”
“Daniel?” It takes me a moment. “My cousin?”
“That’s the one.”
“But how?”
He shrugs. “I had some compromising photos of him. I said I’d trade the photos for your number.”
“Like blackmail!” I say, shocked, before Jackson laughs. “Oh, har har. You’re full of shit.”
Jackson smiles at me before pulling into traffic. “I’m full of shit. But I did get it from Daniel.”
“During the party? But I didn’t meet you until the end.”
“When the party staff texted to tell me they were wrapping up, I had them send Daniel down to the theater. I figured since you two were family, he would probably have your phone number.”
“Oh. Huh.” I watch his silhouette. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“That was originally my plan. But then you were sleeping, and the Daniel opportunity presented itself. Plus, I wasn’t completely sure that you would give me your number. I didn’t want to chance it.”
I think this over. He might not be wrong. Jackson’s stupidly good looking, and the night we met he was kind, and funny, and sweet. Not to mention the fact that I knew he was some sort of professional athlete living in an impressive home. Adding up all these details, I decide there’s a good chance I would’ve freaked out and not given him my number.
When I look up, Jackson is side-eyeing me.
“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you? You would’ve turned me down.”
“Well, I . . . I don’t know. I mean, I liked you right away,” I hedge, ‘but you’re just so… everything.”
“That feels like it should be a compliment, but you kinda made it sound like a bad thing.”
I sigh. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s a really good thing. You’re a really good thing.”
Jackson reaches over the center console placing his hand on top of mine, keeping them both on my thigh.
Deciding to be honest, I admit – “The more I got to know you that first night I met you, the more I was completely swept away. But I was also thinking that you were out of my league.” Thinking about my run-in with Lacy at the mall, I realize that my initial assumptions were right: tall perfect models were his type. Or at least they had been. I shake my head against the past. “But, I find that as time goes on, I don’t care. I like you and I’m greedy, so there.”
I flex my fingers a little since Jackson’s grip has tightened to the point of almost painful.
Pulling up to a stop sign, Jackson glances at me. “Mama always told me not to say these words to a girl I liked, but here it goes. You’re wrong.” A huff of laughter gets caught in my throat when I see that Jackson is serious. “I sat and watched you earlier, during that party. And, yeah, that sounds way creepier than I mean it to. But you were talking to some older folks and you were all laughing. They were smiling at what you were saying, and your hands were flying around as you talked. You looked so beautiful, and full of life, that I wanted to walk over and snatch you up, right then and there.”
I’m more than a little stunned by his admission. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know if you were there with someone, but I figured you were.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t a part of that crowd. I was only there because it was my home. In certain circles, being Jackson Wilder is a big deal, but being a hockey player doesn’t really mean much to those Mensa types. Basically, I figured you were out of my league.” It’s my turn to squeeze his hand. “When I was downstairs watching that movie, I was thinking about you. Mentally kicking myself for being a giant coward. Then I found you snooping around in my sex dungeon.”
I scoff. “Oh, please. I was browsing.”
He ignores me. “So then I found you, caught you, and dragged you away to my couch. When you were sleeping there, all adorable, I knew I wanted the chance to spend more time with you. I also know that wild cats can be unpredictable. So, when the guys messaged saying they were done, I made a split second decision to ask Daniel for your number. He did seem a bit shocked to see you sleeping with me.”
“Oh gross, don’t word it like that!” I reach across and smack his arm.
“He told me that if I wanted a fling, I should look somewhere else. I told him that I thought you were more than that.” Jackson looks at me. “You are more than that.”
I bite my lip for lack of a response. This guy.
With his eyes on the road, I can still see his smirk. “Luckily for me, Daniel just shared your whole contact to my phone, so now I have everything he has. I haven’t seen a need to use it yet, but I even have your email. Maybe now that we’ve opened Pandora’s box, so to speak, I can send you filthy emails to disrupt your day.”
Skipping over all the stuff that has my stomach flipping, I focus on his last statement. “I’ll be honest, dirty emails are a distraction I could get behind. But all is fair, and I’ve worked on some pretty racy novels, so I’m pretty sure I could out Not-Safe-For-Work you. Now if you want to record yourself reading those dirty emails…”
Jackson chuckles. “Quit trying to derail me. I had a point. Oh, right, ipso facto, you were wrong.”
“You have quite the way of putting a girl in her place.”
“Well, I’m sure it won’t happen often, so I gotta drag it out when I can.”
Jackson slows the vehicle, and I look up to see we’re nearing my house. It’s dark out, so rather than making him read house numbers, I point out which driveway is mine and he pulls in.
Turning off the car, Jackson holds up a hand, silently asking me to wait. So I stay put while he circles around, opens the door and helps me down. With my hand in his, we walk up the sidewalk to my front door.
We slow to a stop, turning to face each other. Before I can say anything, like invite him inside, Jackson holds up a hand, palm out, stopping me.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon.”
That’s not at all what I was expecting him to say. And I find myself staring at him.
He tips his head down. “For the date you agreed to.”
“Oh, right.” It comes back to me. “I’m pretty sure anything agreed to under duress can’t be expected to hold up in court.”
Jackson takes a step forward, closing the space between us.
“Do you have other plans, Kitten?”
I smile and shake my head.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow. At noon.”
“Okay, big guy. I’ll be ready.”
Narrowing his eyes, he says, “See that you are. Dress casual, but warm. And bring those mittens. They look good on you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmmm, I like that.” Jackson grabs my face with both hands, holding my head still, while he bends down to place a single kiss on my lips. “Sweet dreams, Kitten.” Releasing me, he steps back. “I want to hear that door lock before I leave.”
At a loss for words, again, I let myself into my house before looking back. “Goodnight, Jackson.”
Then I close and lock the door behind me.
