Mind Pucked (Chicago Blue Jays #1)

7. Amelia

7

AMELIA

I try not to shake as I fix dinner for Hayden and her dad. My slight altercation with him last night was enough to send me home in tears yet again. I need to decide if I can handle this or not. I hate that there’s a little girl hanging in the balance—a little girl who already trusts me. Should I decide to leave, it will be Hayden who gets hurt the most.

My heart can’t handle that thought as I stir the food in the pan. I’m working on hot dogs will all the fixings per Hayden’s request.

I lean down and check on the sweet potato fries. They’re just about done. I’ve made sure to fix enough for Jackson should he want some, but he doesn’t always sit down and eat with us…not when he’s so busy with hockey and other things.

I set the food out on the table, making sure to put a plate out for all three of us. Jackson is at practice right now but will be home any minute.

I’ve decided that tonight I’ll leave the moment I get Hayden down to sleep. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or get yelled at like the last two nights. Well, technically I was only yelled at last night, but I was essentially treated like crap the night before.

As soon as Hayden and I begin to eat, I hear the back door opening. We both look up to see Jackson coming in.

“Dad-dee!” Hayden yells as she gets up and wraps her arm around her sweaty…and extremely shirtless father.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Jackson says as he pats her on the top of the head. “I have to go take a shower really quick.”

“I made enough for you,” I say from where I’m still seated at the table. “I mean, if you want to eat something after you shower…or before,” I stammer out, looking him up and down.

His muscles are tight, rippling everywhere. I didn’t realize there was all that under his hockey jersey. I nearly turn into a puddle and have to tear my eyes away before he notices.

He smiles a kind smile, and it makes me almost forget what happened last night. To my dismay, instead of going upstairs to take a shower first and putting on a shirt, he sits down at the table with Hayden and me.

I try not to gulp audibly at his closeness, but I know if I don’t distract myself with something, I will explode.

“It’s just hot dogs,” I say as I push some of the toppings toward him.

“Thanks,” he says as he begins to make his plate. “It’s perfect.” He plops some cut onions on top. “I wanted to be sure I got home before you put Hayden to bed. I missed her going to sleep the last few nights and…well, I needed this,” he adds.

“Do you need me to head out then?” I wonder, not wanting to overstep.

“No, you have to put me to seep,” Hayden says as she bounces up and down in her chair.

“Your daddy can do that,” I say, and I begin to get up, but then I feel a hand on my arm.

I look down to see Jackson’s hand there.

“No, it’s alright, you can stay. Enjoy the food you made and put her to bed. She likes it when you do it,” he adds as he takes a bite of his food.

I smile as I take a bite of mine as well.

For a while we all three sit and talk. We eat our meal together, and all the while he still has his shirt off. I catch myself several times glancing his direction, but I have to cut my eyes away so he doesn’t catch me. I don’t know why my body is betraying me like this.

We all laugh together as Hayden talks about her various adventures with her Barbie dolls, and I’m happy when Jackson explains more about hockey. Just because my brother was a player doesn’t mean I know much about it.

I fake my way through the rest of the conversation, learning about different shots that are achieved with a stick and a puck. It feels so natural to be sitting here, almost like we’re a little family. That thought brings me back to Lyla.

I feel bad, like I’ve taken her job, even though I know she can’t be here. I wonder what it would be like for me if she had survived, and if my brother had survived. Would I be a nanny? Most likely not, but I’m glad my path has brought me here.

Once we’re done eating, we all three clean up together. I smile as Hayden works diligently at moving food around the table in the name of cleaning it. I let her continue to clean as I put away the dishes, but I wipe the table down after her for good measure. Of course, I wait until she’s in the other room to do so.

As I finish cleaning the kitchen, I can’t help but admire the laughter coming from the other room. It wafts through the air as her dad tickles her and plays with her. I love seeing them interact together, but it gives me a strange feeling.

I walk into the living room and listen to Hayden talk to her father as I clean up in here too.

“Today we played outside,” she says, talking a mile a minute. “We used the water ballons. Auntie Quinn came, and her kids.”

“Oh?” Jackson says, looking up at me.

“Yeah, the kids played Candy Land, and then Hayden did all her colors. She knows more of them than the older kids do…I’m impressed,” I add.

“That sounds like a fun day, baby,” Jackson says, as he kisses a now yawning Hayden on the head. “I’m glad you got to see your Auntie Quinn and the kiddos, but I think you are ready to head to bed now,” he adds, handing her over to me.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I think while you put her to bed I’m going to go up and take a shower, but I’ll be done by the time she goes to sleep, I’m sure.”

I nod as he makes his way up the stairs. With Hayden on my hip, I pick up the last few things in the living room and head upstairs with her in tow.

“I let her lie down on the couch in the living room on Friday nights to watch TV until she falls asleep as a treat,” Jackson yells out of his room. “She likes to take a stuffed animal with her.”

“Okay,” I say as I head into her room with her to get her ready for bed.

Once her nightgown is on and her teeth and hair are brushed, I take her back into her room to choose which animal she wants.

“I want the brown bear,” Hayden says as she grabs it off her bed and takes my hand to head back downstairs.

It takes next to no time and only half an episode of My Little Pony before she falls asleep. I smile up at Jackson from the couch as he walks in. He gathers Hayden up in his arms to carry her limp and sleeping form up to her room. While he’s gone, I gather my things. I don’t want to allow much time for Jackson to get all up in arms again.

I have my things in my hand when Jackson makes his way back down the steps. I don’t say anything to him as I head for the door, but all the while my mind is replaying the image of him walking through the back door without a shirt on.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Jackson says, stopping me in my tracks. “My behavior was totally uncalled for. I’m just stressed out, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

My heart thrums in my chest at the sight of him when I finally turn around and face him. I’m shocked that I’m getting an apology—I wasn’t sure he knew how to do that.

He bends down and picks up a toy from under the couch that I missed. As if on instinct, I reach to take it. For some dumb reason, our hands brush and my heart races. Our eyes are locked as I take the toy, and all I can say is, “Okay.”

Rather weakly might I add.

With our eyes still locked, I feel an intensity that has never been here between us before. I turn and toss the toy in the general direction of the playroom before facing him again. His hands still hover slightly in front of him, as if the electricity felt moments ago still lingers.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Jackson’s a great dad, a great hockey player, and generally a great guy. My theories regarding my brother aside, this man is wonderful—perfect, in fact. Still, I should leave.

Wordlessly, he steps forward, closing the gap slightly.

My heart threatens to explode as our eyes stay locked. I think about running out of the house, but the want inside me shuts down that idea.

I want to stay and see what’s about to happen.

As if that thought sparks in him too, he closes the gap between us. His hands grasp my face on either side, and he pauses, hanging in midair. There’s so much tension between us, and I feel it build up even more as I sigh, staring into his eyes.

“Jackson…I—” I begin, but then everything I was about to say flies out of my brain as our lips crash together.

I don’t know if I moved first or if he did. All I know is the desperation and need between us. Heat is pooling in places I haven’t felt heat in so long. I need this…I need him, more than I need to know about my brother, more than I need answers, I need Jackson.

My lips part ever so slightly as if an invitation has been sent, and he accepts.

I can taste and smell him, his body wash and musky shampoo. I think I will remember his smell for the rest of my life.

“Oh damn,” he moans against my mouth, and I know for sure that I am in for it.

I need to stop. This needs to stop, but our mouths just keep tangling together, his tongue slipping into my mouth. He tastes like whiskey and salt, and it’s making me heat up all over.

This is so wrong. I can’t want this.

But I can’t seem to stop, even as his hands are on me, sliding down to grip my hips with a firmness that has dominance and authority in it.

I could use this to my advantage. I know that. If I’m close enough to him that he’s making out with me, then I can get information. It doesn’t have to have anything to do with my hands against his hard chest, my mind wondering what it would be like to be skin to skin with him right now. It doesn’t have to be about his hands sliding down over my ass and squeezing like he owns it. It certainly doesn’t have to be about him pulling me closer until I can feel his hardness against my belly, making me wonder how well he would fill me up if I let him. If he wanted me that way.

The guilt eating away at me has everything to do with Hayden. She’s a sweet little girl with trauma, sleeping in her bedroom upstairs. And Jackson is a good dad. A great one, actually. He’s stepped up in both roles for her, and he’s so caring and sweet. It’s a rare find. But that doesn’t mean he never did anything wrong. That he didn’t want Preston out of his way for some reason.

I put my anger into the kiss and push myself against him, my chest burning with desire as well as rage. He pulls me in, and I love the taste of his mouth on mine. I can’t believe it, but my knees are getting weak.

His hands are all over me, one palm cupping my breast as he moves his lips to my neck. His kisses trail from the bottom of my ear down to my collarbone. Then he kisses the other side of my neck, and I feel like I’m a meal he’s been hungry for but has been too afraid to taste. I can’t guess how many women, if any, he’s been with over the last two years, but the way his lips press against my skin…there’s a desperation that makes me think it couldn’t have been all that many.

The only other possibility is that he’s just that passionate of a lover.

He steps forward, and I shuffle with him until my legs hit the couch. He kisses down the front of my chest, and his hands are at my sides, lifting the fabric of my shirt. I instinctively begin to lift my arms, but something pops up in my head.

We’re standing right in the living room. I can’t help but feel like Hayden could hear something and come downstairs and see us. I’m not sure if I should say anything. I honestly think he’d be embarrassed to bring me back to keep nannying if we were caught by her.

I try to remove the thought from my head, but I can’t quite seem to shake it. As he slides the shirt over my head, he drops it to the floor and embraces me with more kisses.

“Won’t Hayden see us?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses and glances toward the stairs. I’m scared I’ve ruined the momentum.

“She won’t come downstairs—if she even wakes up, she calls from her bedroom or maybe from the top of the stairs, and she can’t see us from there.” The confident delivery of his words helps me to feel completely relaxed.

I don’t say anything, pulling him in for another kiss, helping him get back into the moment with me. His hands move down my back, and he grips my ass with a powerful and firm grip that has me melting. I may not know much about hockey, but I know that the strength and stamina required to have such control on the ice and whack the hockey puck into the goal keeps him in amazing shape.

I slide my hands from his broad shoulders down to his bulging muscles, and I can feel myself getting more excited and wetter by the second.

His fingers are on my jeans, unbuttoning them and gliding the zipper down. I’m nearly trembling, never having felt such a strong need to be unwrapped for his pleasure as I feel right now.

“Let’s get down onto the couch,” he says, and I nod my head because I can’t even find my voice.

He pulls my pants down over my hips and down my thighs, and we lower ourselves until I’m sitting on the couch. He pulls away from me, and I instantly notice the lack of warmth against my body. I want to pull him back toward me, but he takes my shoes off and pulls my jeans off my legs, leaving me in only my bra and thong.

“Damn, you are so incredibly sexy,” he says, eyeing me like a sweet piece of candy he wants to taste.

He soaks me in, inching closer on his knees toward my body. He caresses my thighs, his mouth on my knee, his hands tracing the lower part of my leg as he places butterfly kisses all along my inner thigh. I open my legs wider as he gets closer and closer to my center. As his face reaches my eager pussy, he makes eye contact with me as he places his thumb on my clit through my panties.

Even with the fabric between his thumb and my skin, it’s enough of a tease that I think it might make me beg for him to pull them to the side. He uses his pointer and middle fingers, rubbing them up and down my slit until I’m tingling everywhere.

“That feels so good,” I say, the words spilling from my mouth as I allow my head to start drifting back and settling into the soft, cushiony pillow of the couch. “Please don’t stop.”

He kisses my inner thighs a bit longer, increasing my anticipation for him tenfold until he finally pulls my panties to the side. When his tongue licks my clit, my whole body lurches back.

I thought his tongue felt good twirling around with mine, but it’s even more incredible in between my other pair of lips. It doesn’t feel like he’s out of practice at all, but maybe this magnetic attraction between us is at the core of what makes everything feel so perfect.

His fingers slide inside of me as he continues to lick me down, and I find myself thinking thoughts I would ever expect to be thinking during a hot sexual encounter.

I think that he must have been an attentive husband to be so giving and mindful of a woman’s pleasure, and that Lyla was a lucky woman. I also wonder if we’re on the couch because he doesn’t want to take me to his bedroom where they shared a bed. I’m almost grateful if that is the case—I’m not sure I could feel comfortable in that room.

God forbid there’s a picture of her somewhere on the nightstand or hanging on the wall. I don’t need her judging us. I already feel bad enough pushing aside the more practical reasons I shouldn’t be involved in this family.

I can’t believe I’m so weak, giving in to the desires of my flesh and this man who has me in a chokehold.

I run my fingers through his hair as he has me squirming. I slowly direct him upward and away from my inner thighs, and I lean in to kiss him.

I can taste myself, and I feel an animalistic urge to taste him too. I want both of us to be slippery and able to feel the pleasure we’re working toward together. I pull myself closer to him while he’s still on the floor on his knees. I pull at his shirt, practically ripping it off over his head.

“Come join me,” I say, still speaking just above a whisper and patting the couch.

He lifts himself onto the couch, and there’s something about seeing him relaxed with his muscles on display. I forget about any self-consciousness I might have about being in this house.

All I want to do is straddle him. As I do, he looks surprised and almost overwhelmed, biting his lip as he crinkles his brow and scans my body. I’ve been a bit forward, and I think about climbing back off him, but then he has his strong hands on either side of my arms, squeezing like he’s trying to stop himself from devouring me completely. I lean in, kissing his lips and his cheeks as he moves his hands to my back and unclips my bra.

He slips the straps of my bra over my shoulders and down my arms, leaving me bare and vulnerable. His fingertips rake down my chest and circle my nipples. They’re so erect, and as he rubs his thumb along them goosebumps appear along my entire body.

I let my hands run along his chest and down across his six-pack abs. The thought of ripping him out of his pants consumes my mind, and before I can even move my hands to undo his belt, he’s undoing it himself.

He throws the belt to the side, and I take over unbuttoning and unzipping him. I help pull his pants down so his erection is standing tall. I lick my fingers and gently wrap my hand around his erect cock, leaning in to kiss him deeply while I start to work him over. Leaning back, I take a second to lock eyes with him, and we keep our eyes open for a moment as I stroke him up and down.

Finally, I shift my panties to the side and sit down on top of him, moving slowly to allow my body to adjust. He lets out a sigh of pure pleasure, and so do I.

“Does that feel good?” I ask breathlessly.

“You have no idea,” he says. His eyes close and I begin to rise and fall on top of him, his cock filling me.

I moan, but I’m still trying to be mindful of how loud I get. As I come all the way down on top of him and he’s deep inside, I bring my hands to my breasts and rub them, heightening the sensations radiating through me. He has his hands on my hips and my ass, helping me work him.

As I begin to move more aggressively, he lets out a few soft moans.

Then he lifts me up and lays me down on the couch, climbing on top of me and entering me again in a swift thrust.

The couch is wide, so it’s plenty big to accommodate both of our bodies. He brushes the hair from my forehead and stares at my lips as I widen my mouth in a big O, silently signaling that he feels so good I hardly know what to do with myself.

I run my hands down his back and squeeze his shoulder blades, begging him to keep going as he thrusts inside of me repeatedly. I can tell he’s so tense, and still holding back.

I can’t say for sure if he’s only like this because of me, or if he’s just been holding on to too much for the last two years, but I suspect he’s using me to get out some of his aggression. I don’t mind, because I know what it feels like to have so much that needs to be released.

I haven’t been able to relax or feel overwhelming pleasure in ages. I’ve been drowning in my thoughts, questions, and fears. I want Jackson to use me as much as I’m using him to get to a satisfying release.

Jackson brings his hand down to where our bodies meet, and begins to stroke my clit in time with his thrusts. I whimper, my pleasure rising and rising until I’m finally able to let myself go. I fall over the edge into the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time, my body shaking and clenching around him in a true release. It’s all I can do not to moan loudly in satisfaction, but Jackson helps keep me quiet by pressing his mouth to mine and swallowing every sound I make through my climax.

Once I’m spent, he brings himself even closer to me, his chest pressed against mine, and I smell his intoxicating scent as he burrows his head into my neck and keeps thrusting until I hear him whisper to me that he’s coming. I want him to, desperately need him to. I don’t want him to pull away.

Then, at the last second, he pulls out and comes all over my inner thigh, his head thrown back and his body shaking. I’m surprised at the sudden emptiness, but I know he made the right decision. He has no idea if I’m on birth control or not. Given how much younger I am, the fact that he already has a daughter, and that we aren’t even officially together…he definitely made the right choice.

I lie still, breathless for a moment, both of us trying to come back to reality. He smiles a little bit of an embarrassed smile and tells me he’ll be right back with a towel. I sit up just enough to be able to see the chandelier and find myself mesmerized by how beautiful it is while I process everything that just happened between us.

This was great for me, and I hope he feels the same. I don’t want him coming to his senses and trying to get me out of here for good. It’s impossible not to notice how awkward and uncomfortable he was about having finished on me instead of inside me, and I wonder whether that was the reason he didn’t show any kind of affection afterward.

But it’s not like I should be expecting affection from him anyway.

When he arrives with the towel, I sit up a bit more, trying to get myself together.

I arrange my hair to one side and wipe the beginnings of sweat from under my eyes. He hands me the towel and I wipe his fluids from my leg, folding the towel before setting it down. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should say something, or if I should wait for him to say something first.

I reach down and gather my clothing, and he begins putting his clothes back on too. I feel a bit embarrassed, but I have to say something.

“That was great,” I say, immediately hating the words I chose. It sounds like we just played a game of basketball or had a nice time at the mall. It doesn’t capture the passion or any depth.

Jackson smiles and moves in closer. He puts his hand on my thigh and softly rubs my cheek. “It was really amazing.”

As he looks into my eyes, I simultaneously feel pulled toward him and want to run away. Now that our time together has ended, the reality of the situation looms over me again.

I’m supposed to be getting closer to him because I suspect he might have something to do with my brother’s death. The conflicting emotions of wanting him and being suspicious of him overwhelm me. I can’t spend another second in this house. I need time to consider what to do next.

“I’m really tired though…I think I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to,” he offers.

“Thank you, but really,” I say. “This was amazing, but I should take off.”

“Alright, no problem,” he says, and we both stand at the same time. “Have a good night.”

Jackson softly takes my hand and leans in to kiss me on my cheek. My heart and my mind are at odds with each other. One flutters at his touch and the other tells me I’m the most terrible person in the world.