Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

J ackson sighed, peering down at the deck. He squeezed the back of his neck. "When we get to Turks and Caicos, I'm going to ask Hudson to send a replacement."

I couldn't breathe. It was as if he'd punched the air from my lungs.

"What?" I gasped. "No." I shook my head. "You can't…" You can't leave me. Not again.

"I have to." He didn't even have the decency to look at me.

"Why? Because of what happened last night?" I asked, anger and fear surging through my veins.

"Yes, and because it's eating me up inside—knowing you're with someone else. Wanting you for myself." He placed his fist to his chest, pounding the space over his heart. "It's tearing me apart."

I gaped at him in disbelief.

"I don't want to leave, but you're still my principal. Hudson's client. It's my job to protect you, and I can't do that if… I just can't. I'm sorry."

"Can't or won't?" I demanded.

"Sloan," he growled. "Don't ask this of me. Don't ask me to betray all my principles."

"I thought we were friends." I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering how he'd suggested friendship only a few days ago.

He scoffed. "Oh, come on, Sloan. We could never be just friends."

I flung out my hands. "Then why'd you say it if you didn't mean it?"

"It wasn't—" He turned away, grabbing the railing and making his muscles pop. "It wasn't that I didn't mean it. I do want to be your friend. But I also want things a friend shouldn't."

"Like sex."

He turned to face me. "Yes, but not just sex. I don't want this to be like it was before. But that's—" He let out a frustrated groan. "That's just not possible."

Just not possible.

It felt too close to "inevitable." Which was exactly what he'd said when he'd ended things fourteen years ago.

Perhaps I should've told him that Edward and I had broken up, but I wanted to see what Jackson would say first. Were his objections confined to Edward, or was there something more?

"Why?" I asked.

"Why do you think?" Jackson asked. "Because of Edward, and my job, my sister, and…"

"Excuses," I spat the word, anger zinging through me like a bolt of lightning. And all the old pain came rushing back in. "Always with the excuses. If you really wanted to be with me, you'd find a way. You would've found a way back then. And you would find a way now. If you'd loved me, you wouldn't have let anything stand in our way.

"If you loved me." I took a deep breath, as if that would help me find the air I needed. The strength. "Our breakup wouldn't have been inevitable, but unthinkable. " I hurled the words at him.

By the time I was done, my heart felt ragged, and yet nothing had changed. Not really. I'd wanted to believe it had, that we had. But deep down, we were still the same people.

Jackson was one of the bravest men I knew. If there was a situation that needed to be handled or a safety concern, he was your guy. But when it came to vulnerability and taking emotional risks, he couldn't be relied on. He couldn't be trusted.

"It's fine," I said, some of my anger shifting to hurt, exhaustion. "Honestly, I probably should've expected this." But that didn't take away the sting of my disappointment.

I turned and headed for the stairs. How could a night that had been so magical turn into…this?

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone low, lethal.

I faced him, unable to let it go. If this was it, I wanted to speak my mind once and for all. "Don't you remember what you told me when you ended things? That our breakup was inevitable."

"I was trying to spare us both from more pain."

"That's bullshit, Jackson. And you know it."

"It wasn't bullshit. Surely you realize that we're from two different worlds." He gestured to the boat. The ocean. Whatever.

"What I see—" I leaned forward, venom in my words "—is that this is what you do. When things get tough, you bail." I lifted a shoulder. "I guess I should be grateful you had the decency to tell me you were leaving this time instead of letting me hear it from someone else."

Before I could even blink, he was standing in front of me, our toes touching. "That's not fair. That's not fair, and you know it."

"Is it fair to interview for a job across the country without telling the woman who loves you? Is it fair to accept that job and plan to move, all without ever telling her?—"

"I was going to tell you," he huffed.

"When?" I straightened, unwilling to back down. " When were you going to tell me, Jackson? When your apartment was packed? When you'd boarded the plane to move to LA?"

He threw his hands in the air. "What do you want from me, Sloan? You want me to apologize?" He stepped closer. "I did. And I will say it again and again and again, until you believe me. I'm sorry. Okay?" His expression was full of remorse, his voice softer when he said, "I'm sorry. What I did was wrong, but you also can't place all the blame on me."

I scoffed. He wasn't wrong. I had kept things from him, but… "I can't believe you're still hung up about my family."

"I'm not—" He shook his head. "I'm not ‘hung up' about your family." His breath hitched. "I'm upset that you felt like you needed to keep that part of yourself from me. Especially after I trusted you."

"You are unbelievable. Do you even hear yourself?" I gnashed my teeth. "Yes. I omitted some things about my family. And maybe it was wrong to do so, but I had my reasons."

His expression was pained. "Did you honestly think I'd try to take advantage of your money?"

"No. Though, that had happened in the past." But with Jackson, it had never been a concern.

"With guys you dated?"

I nodded. "And even with people I thought were my friends."

He clenched his fists, but I knew his anger wasn't directed at me. "I'm sorry. That's—" He blew out a breath. "Really shitty."

"Yeah. It was." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So what, then?" he asked. "You thought I'd look at you differently?"

I hated to admit it, but… "Yeah. Kind of. I know how much you value hard work. I've seen the sacrifices you and your family have made. And I guess I was scared that—" I lifted a shoulder and peered out over the water. I took a deep breath. "I was scared you'd see me as some spoiled little rich girl."

"Sloan." He took my hand in his. "You could never be some spoiled little rich girl."

I appreciated his saying that, but the fact remained that it had changed things. "Maybe not, but when you found out I was a hotel heiress, it still affected how you saw me." When he opened his mouth to say something, I preempted him. "Don't try to deny it, Jackson."

He considered it a moment then said, "You're right. But you're also wrong."

I furrowed my brow. He was talking in riddles, and my emotions were already frayed. "What does that mean?"

He sighed, sinking down on one of the benches. "It means that it only confirmed what I already knew." He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away briefly before meeting my eyes. "I'm not good enough for you."

"What?" I jerked my head back, his words piercing me. Gone was the anger, replaced by concern. Regret. "How could you think that? Did I—" I went over to him. "Did I ever make you feel that way?" I asked, feeling as if I might shatter.

"No, hayati ." He held my hand. "I realize now that I had a chip on my shoulder. That I was putting these expectations on myself about what my mom needed me to be, what Greer needed me to be. What I thought you needed me to be."

His comment stopped me in his tracks, both with his vulnerability and the fact that he'd felt that way. It calmed my anger, making me realize that perhaps I'd misunderstood the situation. Misunderstood him.

I placed my hand over his heart, his skin warm beneath my palm. "I only ever needed you to be yourself."

"I know." He smiled at me, though it was tinged with a sadness that echoed in my heart. "I do. It's just… When I was offered the job at Hudson, I couldn't believe it—my luck was finally changing. I was still hoping the Navy would grant me an honorable discharge. And the job with Hudson felt like a way to redeem myself for getting expelled from the SEALs. A way to make my dad proud and honor his legacy. A way to build a better future for myself and my family."

I noticed that he hadn't mentioned a future for us. Because he saw our demise as "inevitable." I was trying to keep an open mind, but that word still haunted me.

I was determined to finally get all the answers to all my questions, even if it hurt.

"How did you find out about the job?" I'd always assumed he'd heard about Hudson from a friend or discovered them online.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's funny, really. One night I was working at the club, and a guy introduced himself and handed me his card. He was working his way up at the LA office, and he wanted to recruit me. I went to interview, and I was offered the job.

"The pay, the opportunity, everything was amazing. Except the fact that it was in LA, and you were in New York."

So, he had considered how this would impact our relationship. Maybe not. Either way, I needed to know. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"You were about to graduate, and I knew you didn't want to move back to LA. You'd made that…" He scoffed. "Very clear."

He was right. I hadn't wanted to move to LA. I still didn't want to move to LA. New York and now London felt more "me." And I craved the freedom that came with some space from my family. "But maybe if I'd known…"

"Sloan." He shook his head. "That's exactly what I was afraid of. And I didn't want you to change your plans for the future because of me."

I stood, unable to remain so close to him. I wasn't sure if I could handle the truth, but I needed it all the same. "Why?" I whispered, wondering why he'd been so intent on pushing me away when he'd always been my future.

"Because I knew from the things you'd told me about your family that you loved them, but you also felt like they'd held you back at times."

"I…" I swallowed. He'd gathered that from what I'd told him? I…I didn't know what to say .

"And I knew if I asked you to go with me, and you'd said yes, that eventually, you'd come to resent me."

In that moment, he sounded just like my brothers. Jackson had decided what he thought was best for me. He'd built up this entire narrative, and he'd convinced himself it was true, all without ever consulting me.

"You still should've given me the choice," I said.

"What's done is done." He stood. "And it doesn't really matter anymore. You've moved on." I could hear the pain in his voice. The longing. I felt it too.

Being so close to him but not being able to be with him. Wanting him but being scared to take that next step. It was ripping me apart like the wind shredding a sail. I could either continue to fight our past or I could accept it. I could let it go.

"It's over between Edward and me," I admitted, wanting to release Jackson of any guilt he'd felt on that score.

"Since when?" Jackson's gaze jerked to mine. "Because your file says…"

"I know what the file says, but it's wrong."

"It's…" He furrowed his brow. "Wrong. Why are you telling me this?" He groaned. "I can't…" He heaved in a breath. "As long as I'm your bodyguard, I can't be with you."

"Because it's against the rules?" I asked.

"Because it compromises my ability to keep you safe."

"But I only ever feel safe with you."

His shoulders relaxed. "You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. I'd give my life to protect you."

I swallowed hard. "I know."

His statement wasn't something I took lightly—Jackson's willingness to lay down his life to protect me. I could've brushed his comment off as something he'd do for any client, but I sensed it wasn't because I was his client but because I was me.

Jackson had always made me feel safe. Made me feel like I could be who I was, not who everyone expected me to be.

I didn't want him to ask for a replacement. I didn't want him to leave, but I understood. I didn't want him to risk his job for me. His life for me. And he didn't want to jeopardize my safety.

But right now, I didn't want to think about that. We were all alone. There was no one else here. No one threatening me. No one watching to make sure he was following the rules. It was just the two of us.

The two of us on this great big ocean. Yes, he'd hurt me once. But he'd also made me feel. He'd made me understand what it was to claim something for myself. To express my wants and my needs.

I wanted to feel that way again so badly. I wanted to feel that sense of empowerment and strength. I wanted to feel…alive, even if only for one night.

I peered up at him, placing my hand on his chest. It was shaking. I was shaking. With want, with fear…I wasn't quite sure. "If you're going to leave anyway, why can't we have tonight?"

"Sloan," he groaned when I dragged my nails over his chest, his hands balled in tight fists at his sides. "Please."

"Please, what?" My voice was a whisper on the wind.

"I don't…" A muscle in his neck twitched. He bowed his head. "I…"

I smiled, gratified that I'd reduced this man to incoherent sentences. That he felt just as out of control as I did. I wanted to unravel him completely.

"There's no one else here. It's just the two of us."

"And what about tomorrow?"

I lifted a shoulder. I just wanted one night. One night of pleasure. One night to finally get closure. One night to say goodbye to the past and move on. "Tomorrow, we go back to being—" I gestured between us "—whatever we are."

He stepped closer. "And what's that?"

"I don't know." I finally met his eyes. "Friends?"

"Friends," he scoffed. "Right."

"Fine. Principal and executive protective agent. Captain and skipper," I teased.

"Sloan," he groaned. "I'm trying to do the right thing."

"I'm sick of doing the right thing," I blurted.

For the past fourteen years, I'd "done the right thing." I'd done everything that was expected of me and more. Taking over European and Asian operations. Focusing on my family's hotel empire. Dating Edward. I was done doing what was "right"; I wanted to do what was right for me.

"Besides," I asked, "who's going to know?"

He narrowed his eyes. " I'd know."

I scoffed, turning away and crossing my arms over my chest. Here I was, offering myself up to him, and he was going to cling to his honor? Part of me respected him like hell for it, even if it was inconvenient and annoying.

That said, Jackson was right. He might be an independent contractor, but it wouldn't reflect well on me to sleep with someone in my employ. Not to mention the fact that the idea of sleeping with him while I was paying him for executive protection services felt ick.

And then I had an idea. If he was going to be a stickler for the rules despite the fact that he was leaving anyway, I'd make this easy for him. For both of us.

"Jackson." I turned to him, unable to hold back my smile. "You're fired."

He gaped at me. "I—what?"

"You're fired," I said again, trying not to laugh. He hadn't caught on yet. "You're no longer my bodyguard, which means…"

"Which means we wouldn't be breaking the rules."

I bit back my smile. "Exactly."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "If only it were that simple."

"It could be. As long as you don't think you'll regret it," I said, thinking about his job. About how we'd spin this with Hudson.

He frowned. "Is that what you think?"

I lifted my shoulder, rolling my lip between my teeth.

"Sloan." He slid his hand through my hair, cupping my cheeks. "I could never regret loving you. You are my solace. My da zra qarara . When I'm with you, my heart is at ease."

My body relaxed at his words, even as my mind replayed them again, trying to search for answers. He nuzzled my nose with his, prolonging the torture. It felt as if everything in my life had led up to this moment. To him.

"Jackson," I pleaded. I didn't know if I wanted him to release me or never let go.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He looked ready to pounce, but then he sobered. "You sure this is what you want?"

It wasn't about what I wanted, but about what I could give. One night. A chance for closure, once and for all.

"Yes."

He closed his eyes. "Say it again."

I furrowed my brow. "What?"

He slowly opened his eyes once more. "My name. Say it again." He kissed the spot behind my ear.

"Jackson," I said on a sigh.

His eyes were locked on mine, scanning them as if seeking permission. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him, for in the next moment, he brushed his lips against mine. Gentle. Reverent. Tentative.

Even so, it was a claiming. This man dominated me like he always had.

I whimpered at the feel of his hands on me. It was like coming home. It was…everything.

I tugged at his shorts. I didn't care that we were out in the open. That anyone could've seen us if they'd happened to sail by, which I doubted. We were well and truly alone.

He wore a glazed expression. "God, look at you." He cupped me, bending forward to nip at my breasts through the thin material of my silk tank. I gasped at his touch, at the way he made me feel. In his arms, I came alive.

"You are so fucking incredible," he rasped, the words sending butterflies skittering through me.

Jackson looked at me as if I was the answer to all his prayers. The object of all his desires. He made me feel wanted, seen, cherished.

My body was on fire from his touch. All rational thought gone.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want…" I swallowed hard. There were so many things I wanted. "You."

It was the first time I'd claimed something for myself in years, and it felt good.

He dragged his thumb down my lips. "God, Sloan," he groaned.

I parted my lips, and he pushed his finger inside my mouth. Filling me. Reminding me of just how good he could make me feel.

I sucked, swirling my tongue around his thumb. Licking the salt from his finger like I wanted to lick the come from his cock. My legs quivered, desire pooling in my core.

He lifted me so my legs were wrapped around his waist. Oh god…his cock. It was hard and insistent, and I wanted him inside me now.

"Fuck, I missed you." He buried his face in my neck, and a sense of rightness washed over me.

His familiar smell. The comfort of being in his arms. The words he said were exactly what I'd needed to hear.

Closure. I reminded myself. But it was difficult to remember my end goal when he set me down on the bench, his gaze tender as he kneeled before me. His eyes scanning me as if to memorize every freckle, every birthmark, every everything.

He kissed me, savoring me as if I were the most decadent treat. There was no rush. Nothing was hurried about his movements. He was just as lost to this moment as I was.

"Let me taste you," he said, kissing his way up my legs. He peeled off my silk sleep shorts. Then he wrapped his hands around my thighs, hauling me toward him.

I swallowed hard and pushed away my fears. It had been a long time since I'd had a man go down on me. And none of them had ever compared to Jackson. He was always so…intense. And the filthy words he said, the way…

He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, his lips soft. My skin was incredibly sensitive to his touch, and I nearly jolted off the bench.

"Nervous?" he asked, peering up at me from between my thighs.

I felt like a virgin again. With the hottest guy I'd ever seen nestled between my legs. About to cross a line we shouldn't.

"Stay here." Jackson linked his fingers with mine. "With me."

I forced myself to focus on the present even as it blended with the past. Honestly, when he nuzzled my clit, he made it difficult to think about anything else. I gripped the edge of the seat, the boat rocking gently as he licked and sucked and teased me, his eyes never leaving mine.

When my legs started to shake, my pleasure churning inside me like the powerful waves in the Gulf Stream, he rasped, "That's it, hayati ."

He smoothed his hand over my thigh, before reaching around and pulling me even closer to his mouth. Positioning me exactly how he wanted. I felt as if my skin couldn't contain me. As if my body was coming apart in the best possible way.

"Oh god. Oh yes," I panted.

Pleasure. So much pleasure.

It was as if my body had lain dormant for years. Suddenly—thanks to Jackson—everything was brighter, clearer.

God, I'd missed this. Missed feeling like this.

On a boat beneath the stars with Jackson's mouth on me, my toes curled. I was flying. I was…free.