Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

J ackson and I had spent the afternoon snorkeling the reef. The pads of my fingers were wrinkled, and my body was exhausted.

I climbed up the sugar sloop, feeling Jackson's eyes on me the entire time as he followed. For a second, I thought I felt the brush of his hands on me, but then I told myself I was imagining it. Maybe I just wanted it. Wanted him to touch me. Want me.

Wanted to know if it would be the same as it had always been—electric. Shattering my world and then putting me back together in the way that only he could.

"That's it, Sloan. That's it," he urged, his own movements becoming more frantic.

My pleasure had been building and building, and I didn't know how much more I could take. I'd never felt so full. So complete. I couldn't imagine sharing this moment with anyone else.

Jackson cupped my cheek, pressing his lips to mine. Claiming me. With his cock buried deep inside me, it was the most intimate and intense thing I'd ever experienced.

"I've got you, Sloan," he whispered, urging me on. "I've got you."

Stars exploded in my vision, my mind emptying completely. I didn't have to think; I only had to feel. And everything felt…wonderful.

Jackson's movements turned frenzied, until he was panting out my name. Unleashing his own release. He was there with me. We were falling together. Always together.

We fell back on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and I could feel his heart racing beneath his skin. It matched the cadence of my own.

"Fuck, baby. That was incredible."

"Is that unusual—incredible sex?" I joked, but I was curious. Because that had definitely exceeded all my hopes and expectations.

Jackson stilled. "Wait." When I lifted my head, I could see the panic in his eyes. Feel it coming off him in waves. "Wait. Are you…were you a virgin?"

I rolled my lips between my teeth.

"Oh my god." He sat up and shrank back. "You're a virgin? You were a virgin? I took your virginity?"

"First of all," I said. "You didn't take anything. I gave myself to you. And secondly—" I placed my hand on his chest, annoyed by this conversation "—virginity is a social construct. It's outdated and heteronormative."

"You're right, but still…" He dragged a hand down his face. "It was your first time. I wish you'd told me. I would've been ? —"

"More careful?" I asked. "Gentler?"

"Yes."

I cupped his cheek. "I didn't want you to be gentle. And I would've told you if I was uncomfortable."

Finally, eventually, he seemed to relax. "Are you okay?"

He scanned my body as if searching for any signs of injury. It was ridiculous, really. But it made me feel special that he cared.

"I'm great." I smiled, my body still buzzing after my orgasm. I was happy and light and in love.

I hauled myself on deck and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my waist.

"That was fun." I sank down on one of the benches. My limbs were exhausted from an afternoon of swimming along the reef, but I hadn't felt this happy, this light, in such a long time.

Jackson nodded, but my mouth went dry at the sight of him and all that glorious bare skin. Water sluiced down the hard planes of his chest, making his tattoos glisten even more in the sun. Looking at his torso was like playing a "spot the differences" game. Except with the most gorgeous living, breathing canvas.

I'd been on this boat with this man for nearly a week now, and it was impossible not to want him. It wasn't just about his looks, though he was hotter than ever. Jackson was thorough and kind and commanding and respectful.

He made me pancakes, checked in with me about the threats and how I was feeling. Cared for my injuries.

He hadn't taken over the boat, as I'd feared. He was supportive; he'd allowed me to lean on him. He'd make suggestions, but he always deferred to my opinion.

He was the same man I remembered—and yet somehow more. More mature. More patient. More nurturing.

We weren't the same people we used to be, but maybe we were…better.

"You're staring," he rasped. But when I met his eyes, they were hooded, greedily drinking me in.

"So are you," I said, challenging him.

"Yeah. Well…" He toweled off his head. "Can you blame me? You're gorgeous."

Based on his earlier insistence to remain professional, I didn't know what to think. But standing there, staring at him, I couldn't deny it. I wanted Jackson, and neither time nor distance had dulled my body's reaction to this man.

I swayed a little on my feet, but I knew it had more to do with the man standing before me than the gentle waves rocking the boat. Jackson placed his hands on my waist as if to steady me. He'd once been my rock. My protector.

I wanted to feel that way again. Safe. Secure. Loved.

Being with him on the Athena , I felt that again. Not only because it was my happy place, but because Jackson made me feel safe. Taken care of.

"Hey." He peered down at me. "You okay?"

"I—uh…" Suddenly, I'd lost the ability to form words in his presence. Without realizing what I was doing, I'd placed my hands on his bare chest. Our faces were inches apart.

I licked my lips, remembering the taste of him. The feel of his body pressing into mine deliciously. The…lies. The thought came to me unbidden and unwanted.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked, devastated that Jackson had accepted a job across the country and was moving to LA. I'd only found out because Greer had congratulated him in front of me.

Talk about heartbreaking. The man I loved was moving, and he hadn't even mentioned the fact that he was interviewing, let alone had accepted a job. Was he just going to leave? Without telling me? My body felt as if it might rip in two.

Jackson stalked toward me, crowding me. His expression was like a thunderhead. "I'm not the only one who's been keeping secrets."

I crossed my arms over my chest, my heart rate racing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Sloan. Maybe the fact that you're a hotel heiress."

I scoffed. Right. Of course. "So that changes things, does it?"

"Yes. No." He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen floor. "It only reaffirms what I already knew."

"And what's that, Jackson?"

"All this time, we've been kidding ourselves. My sister. Your family. Your…future." He shook his head.

Wait. What? I could feel the panic rising. No. He couldn't do this to me. To us.

" You're my future." I placed my hand over his heart. And he was mine.

And yet, he hadn't asked if I'd go with him to LA.

He took my hand in his, and then he shook his head, his expression downcast. "This was the only potential outcome. Face it, Sloan. It's inevitable." He gave my hand a squeeze before releasing me. And when he took a step back, it felt as if he'd erected a wall between us.

Inevitable.

I lowered my hands and took a step back, trying to calm myself. To clear my head. While I had faith that I could weather any storm with Athena , I couldn't survive another round with Jackson.

"Sorry. I, uh, I think I must have gotten too much sun."

He dropped his hands as well. "It is warm out." But his gaze was focused on my lips when he said it.

The tension between us pulled taut. He looked as if he was going to kiss me or break me. I knew both were equally likely when it came to him. I could practically feel the desire and restraint rolling off him.

I'd never had someone look at me the way Jackson did. As if he'd die if he didn't touch me. As if it took everything in his power to hold himself back.

I knew what I wanted. What I'd always wanted— him.

I licked my lips, and his eyes darted there, his nostrils flaring. Desire blazed inside me, and my chest rose and fell in great, shaky breaths.

I wasn't sure who moved first, or if it even mattered, but I blinked and we were touching. He was kissing me. Holding me. Igniting every nerve ending that had lain dormant for the past decade. Reviving me.

I gasped into his mouth, unable to get close enough. "Jackson."

I wanted to be swept up in that frenzy. That rush that only Jackson could evoke in me. Right now, I didn't care if it killed me. Not when his touch was the only thing that made me feel truly alive.

"Fuck," he rasped. "Fuck, you feel so good."

His erection dug into my stomach, and his hands were everywhere. On my hips, sliding up my ribs to cup my breasts, in my hair. I was just as out of control, touching every inch of bare skin I could reach.

"We shouldn't," he said between kisses, his words an echo of the past. Though—then and now—he didn't seem inclined to stop. I didn't want him to stop.

"Don't stop," I begged.

He kissed me again, making me dizzy. Delirious.

"But I'm…" He leaned his forehead against mine. "And you're…" He tightened his grip on my hips and groaned. Heat flooded my core, making my nipples pebble with desire. "We can't."

He tasted like mint and salt. Like all my best memories and the source of my greatest heartbreak.

And somehow that, coupled with his words, cleared my head enough to realize that this was a bad idea. A mistake. I placed my hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

"You're right," I said, my lips swollen from his kisses. "We can't."

I swallowed. I couldn't do this again. I couldn't go down this path—knowing heartbreak was the only thing waiting for me at the end.

He peered down at me with concern but didn't try to come closer.

I straightened my swimsuit top and covered my chest with my arms as if to shield myself from him. I supposed a handful of nights at sea with Jackson, sailing the beautiful Caribbean, was enough to make anyone lose their senses.

Jackson shook his head, his vision clearing as if from a trance. "I'm sorry. That was completely unprofessional."

Unprofessional, right . I bit my lip and glanced away. There was always some excuse, some reason, why we couldn't be together. In the past, it had been his uncertain future. His sister. Just when I'd thought we could finally move past one of them, something else would pop up like a twisted game of Whac-A-Mole.

He turned his back to me and grasped the railing, peering over the side of the boat. I took a moment to study his back—the tattoos that came to life every time his muscles rippled. Some were familiar and others were new. All beautiful and captivating.

"I'm going to shower," I said, needing to be somewhere, anywhere, else. Unfortunately, on the boat in the middle of the ocean, there were only so many places to go.

I headed below deck with a heavy sigh. This wasn't me. I wasn't some horny teenager who forgot all reason, but that was how Jackson made me feel. Insatiable. Uncontrollable.

I blamed it on the sea air. The vacation mentality.

That was all this was. All any vacation was. A chance to escape the ordinary. To ignore responsibilities and expectations and reality for a little while. I might fantasize about Jackson, but that was all it could ever be. At the end of the trip, Jackson and I would return to our separate lives, and nothing would change.

I stared at the ceiling. I couldn't imagine a more peaceful setting—floating in the calm waters off the coast of a secluded paradise. It was a cloudless night with no rain in the forecast. Even so, it felt as if a storm was approaching. My body was tense. And I felt…restless. On edge.

I sighed and rolled to my side. We had another full day of sailing tomorrow to reach Mayaguana. I needed my rest, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier. About Jackson.

He'd been…well, even better than I'd remembered. His kiss. His touch. They had the power to consume me. They nearly had once.

And while I knew it was a good thing we'd stopped, that didn't mean my body was happy about it. No. It was achy and frustrated and woefully unsatisfied.

I kicked the covers aside and padded to the galley for some water. The space was bathed in red light, and I was halfway across the main cabin when I heard a groan. I paused. Maybe it was the groan of the ship, but it sounded more like the groan of a man.

The sound of another low groan had me rushing to Jackson's door, my gut clenching with concern. What if he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him? What if he was hurt?

We were in the middle of the ocean. If something bad had happened, I needed to act fast.

In my panic, I twisted the handle to his quarters without knocking. The boat rocked, carrying the door open with it. Red light spilled into his bunk from the main cabin, his breaths suddenly even louder in the small space. His torso was bare. He'd kicked off the sheets, and there was just enough light to see the outline of his hand gripping his cock as he pumped himself furiously.

Oh my god. Oh my…

I was too stunned to move. Too entranced to do anything but stare.

When I met his eyes, they were hooded as he scanned my form. Daring me to watch him. Or at least, that was how it felt.

I swallowed hard, easily falling under his spell once more. I hadn't set foot into his room. Hadn't removed any of my clothes, and I was already on edge just from the sight of him. God, he really was glorious. And the longer I stood there, the more my eyes adjusted, allowing me the most erotic and tantalizing glimpses of this beautiful man.

I felt as if I couldn't breathe. As if my whole body was wound tight, my being wrapped up in him. Everything tingled and ached and wanted. Wanted him.

Before I realized what I was doing, my hand had drifted down, sliding beneath the silk of my pajama bottoms. I just…I needed a release. Something. This past week had been torture, and seeing Jackson now, touching himself, pleasuring himself, had finally pushed me over the edge.

Our eyes locked. I rubbed my clit, imagining it was his hands. His tongue. It still wasn't enough, but it was as far as I dared go.

"Fuck," he grunted. "Yes, hayati ."

I knew he was close. Hell, I was nearly there too, the pleasure building and building to an almost impossible crescendo.

Jackson's muscles tightened, his abs clenching as he increased his pace until he was hissing through his teeth, ropes of come spilling on his skin. I loved seeing him lose control, and my own orgasm barreled through me. Making my vision darken and my legs shake.

"Oh god," I whispered. I hunched forward, still feeling the aftershocks. Wondering what the hell I'd just done.

So much for staying away. For being professional. For being…friends.

I let out a shaky exhale, and when I lifted my gaze to him, we both stared at each other as if to ask, "What just happened?"

Shit. This was bad. Really bad.

But it had felt so, so good.

I closed his door and crept back to my room before I could make an even bigger mess of things. I had no idea where Jackson and I went from here, but I had a feeling there was no going back from this.