First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Jackson

I want to fuck her. More than my very next breath, I want to rip her panties off and shove into her heat. She wants it too, I can tell. The sex at least.

“We should go inside,” I choke out reluctantly.

“Okay,” she replies breathlessly.

“To sleep,” I clarify.

“Oh.”

Before she has a chance to overthink why I am doing this, I kick the button on the fire pit, turning it off, and stand up with her legs wrapped around my waist. I carry her mostly naked body inside and to my bedroom.

“Kiss me again in the morning and I’ll know you really want this.”

“What?”

“You’re softer at night when you can hide in the darkness. When you’re too tired to fight me.” I set her down on the bed but don’t step away. “Kiss me again in the daylight and I’ll know this is real for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We already had our spur-of-the-moment night. This next time has to mean something because I need to know that you won’t run from me after. I won’t be able to bear it this time if I have to watch you walk away,” I tell her truthfully, searching her eyes for any indication that she’s understanding me.

“This is strange,” she ponders, trying to cover up with the sheet.

“Why? Because I’m telling you that I care about you?”

“Yes,” she states matter of factly like duh.

“Does it have to be a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. I’m used to guys harassing me about having sex until I have to give in, not making me wait.”

“What the hell do you mean? No, you know what, never mind. I don’t want to hear about another man touching you.” I grab her by her thighs and pull her back toward me since she had managed to scoot a couple of inches away.

“I’m asking you to think about this because I want you to choose me with no underlying reason other than wanting this. Not because you’re sad, angry, or needing to scratch an itch.” I throw the words back at her that she used as her excuse the last time we had sex.

“What if you don’t want me in the morning?” She asks, meekly.

“I’ve wanted you every morning, day, and night since you strutted your ass in front of me at the courthouse. What we did in my office is nothing compared to what I want to do to you now, but I need to know that you want to stay. No more running.”

“Okay, fine.” As she says the words I can see the tension in her body building. She’s not fine, she’s panicking. “Can I have another shirt?”

Her arms awkwardly hover around her chest, unsure if she should cover her nudity until I grab her wrists gently, pinning them to the bed on either side of her.

“No, I’m all out.” I eye her bare breasts hungrily because I’m still a man after all.

“You’re such an ass.” She rolls her eyes but smiles.

“I need to shower, do not leave this bed.”

“What if I need a shower?” She tugs her hands back, but she’s teasing me now, and that’s a good sign.

“You know I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Give me a chance to show you I’m the right choice, alright?”

“Fine, but keep the door open.” She leans back on the pillows with her hair flowing down her shoulders, her panties high on her hips, and her perfect tits out. I want to kick myself in the face for ever attempting to be a good guy.

“Yes, ma’am,” I grumble to the bathroom, taking my clothes off and stepping into the glass-walled shower, having the absolute best view in the world with no intention of taking advantage of it. Dammit.

I can’t keep my eyes off her, though, and she watches me with equal fascination. Her siren eyes track every move I make, including as I fist myself with a soapy hand.

I only meant to tease her a bit, but when her knees widen I can’t stop my hand from jerking. She slides the black cotton down her legs, flinging it away, and baring herself to me completely. My other hand grips the shower door handle but I’m not sure if I’m trying to keep it closed or throw it open.

My little fireball is trying to fucking kill me.

Her hand slides down her stomach, teasingly slow, her fingertips dancing delicately across her creamy skin like I’ve dreamed of doing a million times. By the time she reaches her clit, circling it with the tip of her middle finger, I’m cumming like a teenager against the fogged-up glass.

She’s never going to let me live this down.

I know because she’s still smiling smugly as I stalk toward her with a towel around my waist. Her legs start to close but a quick shake of my head halts her knees from moving. “My fingers or my mouth? That’s all you get tonight.”

Her tongue sneaks out, licking her lips, and I grip her ankles in my hands waiting for her response. “Mouth,” she says with a breath and I’m already yanking her toward me. I dive in before she can blink, burying my face against her sweet pussy, and sucking her clit between my lips.

It’s Heaven. It’s everything.

“Fucking, shit, Jackson.” That dirty little mouth. I can’t wait to fuck it.

My tongue laps at her swollen bead, while my hands plaster her hips to my head, not letting her squirm an inch. She tries though, wiggling every time I work a sensitive angle, bucking off the mattress.

She can fight with me this way for the rest of my life and I’d say thank you.

Working her clit left to right earns me a whimper and the sound fuels me. I don’t relent, stroking her pussy until her thighs are twitching in my hands, and squeezing my skull.

“Jackson, please, fuck.” She cries out as her orgasm rushes over her, locking her legs, and pulling my hair by the roots. I love it.

Her pussy is soaked with her climax and I take my time licking every delicious inch until her knees fall open in exhaustion.

When I stand, her hooded gaze lingers on my towel where it’s tented obnoxiously, staring unashamedly as I pull it from my waist. Her eyes stay glued to my erection as I wipe her mess from my face.

“Why are you allowed to get dressed?” She protests breathlessly as I pull on some underwear.

“Because I like you naked in my bed and if I don’t cover up then I’ll end up buried inside of you in my sleep.” An eager but sleepy smile is her only response as I crawl into bed, scooping up her relaxed body, and tucking her against me. “Especially when you keep looking at me like that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispers innocently, delicately tracing her finger up my forearm.

“You know,” I grumble, loving and hating how she teases me. Regardless, with my ever-hard dick between her ass cheeks and my hand cupping her breast, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

As long as she stays in the morning.

“Goodnight, fireball.”

“Tell me why you call me that. Please? I won’t be able to sleep.”

This woman is going to play me like a fiddle in no time. She’s purposefully pulling my strings, she’s already too good at it.

“When I was a kid, I choked on a fireball candy. The hard red ones. It almost killed me.”

She lets out a gasp in protest. “You call me that because you think that I’m going to kill you?” She sounds offended but I know deep down she is pleased with herself.

“Oh, I know you’re going to kill me, sweetheart. I keep my guns locked up for a reason.” I kiss her on the head to soften the joke.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously, into you.”

“Okay, now you’re being gross. Go to sleep.” She wiggles against me, settling in with a sigh because despite what she says, she’s into me too.