First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Jackson

N o amount of reason could stop me from driving myself into her over and over. Not even a gun to my head. From the moment she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me, I knew I couldn’t fight her. I was going to give her every single thing that she wanted.

No one holds that type of power over me. I’ve expertly curated my life with absolute independence in mind, never letting a single person influence my decision-making, until her.

Whatever witchcraft she possesses has thrown my life completely off balance. I need the consistency, the logic. My attraction to her is anything but logical. She’s rude and abrasive. She sees the worst in me and pulls it to the surface with every interaction.

This time is no different. Except, instead of screaming at each other, I’m fucking her on top of my desk. The desk that I worked my ass off to obtain. I’m practically destroying my career with every thrust of my hips but I can’t stop. Not when she’s making those little sounds that surge electricity directly into my bloodstream.

Her body is perfect. My deepest desires couldn’t have done better.

My hands mold perfectly to the narrow part of her waist, giving me the best control of the hips that I’ve never been able to stop staring at and an ass that I finally get to appreciate.

It’s still not enough, I want to bury my face in it and leave bite marks all over her backside. I want to mark her entire body so she can’t ignore that this ever happened. I want her to wake up tomorrow and feel me everywhere. I want her aching for days.

When her tight cunt grips me with her orgasm, it steals the air from my lungs. I feel every part of her clenching every inch of me. My stomach muscles tighten and I know it’s over, it feels too good to stop my release.

With great reluctance, I pull out just in time, coating her beautiful ass with my cum. The tip of my cock trails along the valley between her cheeks while I catch my breath, wishing this wasn’t over.

That never happens to me. Usually, I finish with a woman and can’t get away from them fast enough, whether it’s disinterest in them or the commitment. Right now, I want to wrap her in my arms and go again.

I don’t dare touch her, though. My brain is regaining enough clarity to know how stupid of an idea that would be. I just never imagined that the best sex of my life would be with a woman who hates the very air I breathe.

And, as suspected, as the last of the sex haze dissipates from around us, a thick cloud of smog descends.

The room is deathly silent, I’m not even sure if she’s breathing, but the doom is suffocating. My chest heaves with dread.

Her hands brace themselves on the desk and she pushes herself up slowly before righting her black thong, trapping the mess I left. She doesn’t turn around or say anything while she fixes her skirt, pulling it back down to where it belongs midway down her thighs.

It isn’t until she smooths her hands over the top of her hair and down her neck that she turns around to face me. Her mascara is smudged, and the usual razer sharp wings of eyeliner are smeared. She looks thoroughly fucked and sexy as hell, but I’m not dumb enough to make that comment.

When her eyes stay averted to the side of the room, my stomach ties itself in knots. This was a mistake.

What the hell did I do?

She kissed me like she hated me, but her hands were in my hair pulling me closer. My mind can’t make sense of what transpired but my dick pulses back to life anyway.

“Ceasefire is over. Goodbye, Jackson.”

Her dismissal snaps me out of my thoughts and I watch as she retrieves her purse and walks out of my office. She doesn’t look back and I don’t say a word.

My pants are still around my thighs and she’s gone. It’s as if it never happened at all.

I licked across every inch of her chest, I was inside of her and I won’t soon forget it.

It’s already terrorizing me.

I analyze the last few minutes of our encounter. She was moaning, she was enjoying it. Every time a whimper escaped I almost came.

Now she can’t even look at me.

She regretted it the moment it was over because she hates me. It’s no act, she genuinely hates me.

The knife to my chest is scorching. I wasn’t expecting to become allies after this, but I didn’t think it would make our situation worse either.

Maybe I let it go too far but there are probably claw marks on my ass from her begging for more. When I flipped her over and fucked her harder than I ever have, I thought that’s what she wanted.

My head’s in my hands, desperately recalling every moment again. We fucked hard and rough, nothing she couldn’t handle but she dismissed me so easily afterward that I feel like I have whiplash.

She came, powerfully. I felt it. She… “no, no, no.”

She said no.

Jesus Christ.

I was working her with my hand, desperate to feel her orgasm…

She said no and I didn’t stop.

“God dammit!” I roar, tossing my chair across the room and shattering a commendation plaque on the wall.

Holy shit I fucked up.

She said no and I kept going, I fucked her until I covered her in my cum.

Was she angry fucking me? Or was she angry that I was fucking her?

I’m reanalyzing every thought that I’ve had. Was she pulling me in or was she trying to push me away? Fuck.

Was she crying out in pleasure or pain?

I’m going to be sick. I barely make it to the small trash can under my desk before hurling.

Did I hurt her?

Did I take advantage of her?