Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I fell back against the bench, trying to catch my breath. My heart was racing, and Jackson kissed me with a satisfied grin.

"That's my girl."

In that moment, I was twenty-two all over again. And I would've given him anything and everything, if only he'd asked. But he'd never given me the choice.

This was my chance. I was seizing what I wanted and rewriting our ending.

He tugged off my shirt, tossing it below deck along with my shorts. "Fuck," he rasped. "Fuck, you're gorgeous when you come."

I wanted to see him come. I wanted to make him feel as wild and out of control as I felt.

I grabbed the hem of his shirt, and he yanked it over his head in one fluid motion. He smirked then pushed down his shorts, and his cock bobbed. Thick. Hard. Wanting.

My breath caught in my throat. He was stunning. So much ink. So much raw power.

He sat on the bench across from mine. "You just going to sit there and watch, baby girl?" he taunted, pumping his cock. "Or are you going to ride my cock?"

I shuddered at the erotic sight. At his filthy words. "Why can't I do both?"

He smirked. "You can. We will. Tonight is ours, and I fully intend to make the most of it."

I stood and stepped closer. He looked at me like a predator watched its prey. Hungry. Deadly. Ready to pounce.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, preparing to straddle him.

"Shit." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't bring any condoms."

"Good thing I came prepared." I ducked into the galley to get one of the intimacy kits that came standard in all the Huxley hotel rooms. I'd snagged it at the last minute from the Huxley Grand Miami.

The kits had been Jasper's idea. He was always so focused on the guest experience, and he was damn good at it. The kit contained a few condoms and some lube, and I'd never been more grateful for it.

"Mm." Jackson grabbed me by the waist, the heat of his hands branding my skin. He hauled me onto his lap for a searing kiss. "I knew I lo—iked you for a reason."

"Oh, is that the only reason?" I teased, glossing over the fact that he'd almost said "love." He didn't love me. He didn't know me. Not after all these years apart.

"You're also beautiful." He kissed the skin behind my ear. "Smart." He punctuated each statement with a kiss. "Sexy. Considerate. Fiercely independent. Stubborn?—"

I removed the condom from the package. "Okay. I think I get the point."

He chuckled, but the sound came out strangled when I sheathed his hard cock.

"You're also resilient." Another kiss. "And resourceful."

"You sure have a lot to say," I teased.

"Fourteen years' worth of things to say, yes," he said. I glanced away, his expression too intense. I couldn't…

"Hey." His tone was gentle as he cupped my cheek, bringing my gaze back to him. "If you changed your mind, and you don't want this—" The words turned strangled as I lined him up with my core.

I kissed him—hard. "I want this."

I just didn't want to forget what this was. One night of wild sex. Nothing more. It couldn't be.

He lived in LA, and my life was in London. And when we arrived at Turks and Caicos, he'd ask for a replacement. He'd no longer be my bodyguard. But I didn't want to think about that right now—any of it.

He hissed as I sank down on him. I reveled in the sensation of fullness. Completeness.

"Fuck." He grunted. "You feel so good."

He threaded his fingers through my hair until he was cupping my nape. Our noses touching. Eyes locked.

He kissed me, his gentle touch at odds with his punishing thrusts.

"Fuck," he rasped, cupping my breasts. "These tits." He pushed them together, teasing one then the other with his mouth. Biting them.

It sent jolts of pleasure straight to my already overheated core. Not to be outdone, I raked my nails down his chest in the way that had always driven him wild. It was like performing the steps to a dance you already knew by heart. It was beautiful and breathtaking, even as we tried to push each other's limits.

In this instance, reality was even better than my memories.

He reached down, rubbing my clit with his thumb, his eyes intent on mine. "You feel…" He shuddered. "God, Sloan. Nothing compares to this. With you."

"Jackson." I gasped his name when he pinched my clit, making me see stars. Even after all this time, he still knew my body best. "Oh fuck. Oh…"

"Yes." His thrusts were harder. Less coordinated. "That's it. Come for me again, hayati ."

Oh god, yes. I shivered from his words. From the way he touched me with both reverence and barely restrained passion.

He pulled me closer. As close as possible. Our foreheads were touching. Our bodies were connected in the most intimate and primal of ways, and suddenly everything felt like too much.

My chest was tight, and I needed space. I needed… I stood and turned, putting my back to him. If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

He placed his hands on my hips, guiding me as I sank back down on him. I loved the feel of his large, callused hands roaming over my skin. I loved the strength of his body and the feeling of safety I got from being in his arms.

"That's it," he rasped against the shell of my ear as I began to move once more. "Take charge."

He palmed my breast with one hand while using the other to tease my clit.

"Tell me what you need. What you desire." His voice was low in my ear, and it felt as if everything was within my grasp.

I was a billionaire. I could buy whatever I wanted. And yet, the thing I'd wanted most— him —had always been out of reach.

He pinched my nipple, and I had to bite back my cry of ecstasy. His dark chuckle had my orgasm rising to the surface once more. My pleasure built with every powerful stroke.

This was what I needed. Not sweet nothings or expensive gifts. Not lavish dinners or someone who was perfect on paper. I needed someone raw and real. I needed Jackson.

I needed him to set a relentless pace until he pushed me over the edge into oblivion. Until I forgot about the past or the future. Until my entire existence boiled down to where our bodies connected and nothing else.

"I've got you." He slid a hand down my throat, collaring me. I was completely at his mercy and under his control.

He guided me so our bodies were pressed together. Until the weight of his hand rested over my heart. And for that moment, I allowed myself to relax in his hold, to trust that Jackson would keep me safe.

"That's it," he said, coaxing my orgasm from my willing body. "Shout my name to the stars while I fill you with my come."

I spasmed around his cock right before he increased his pace, losing control of his movements as he unleashed himself.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, trying to catch my breath as I stared at the stars as if for guidance. Jackson's chest was warm against my back. He held me, nuzzling my neck as he whispered words of praise. Tears formed on my lashes. So much for keeping my emotions out of it.

Now that some of my earlier desire had cooled, the enormity of what I'd just done came crashing over me. I shivered.

"Come on." Jackson gave me a squeeze. "Let's go to bed."

He followed me down the stairs to my cabin, his hands on my hips as we made our way to my bed. I lay beside him, and he pulled me into his arms. It felt so natural, yet strange all at the same time. A few weeks ago, the idea of spending a night with Jackson would have been inconceivable. And yet…here we were.

"What's this one for?" I asked, tracing a line of text along Jackson's ribs. It had the words " Acta non verba " in a handwritten font.

"My dad used to say that phrase a lot. It means actions, not words."

I hummed. "You are definitely a man of action."

He arched his hips as if to emphasize my statement, and I laughed. "Jackson." I slapped his chest playfully. "That's not what I meant."

"Mm." He rolled so that he was leaning over me, his cock already hard against my thigh. "You sure?"

"Is this his handwriting?" I traced my fingernail along the line of his ribs, and he let out a shaky breath. I smirked, and he fell back on the bed.

"Yeah. When we were helping my mom move last year, I found some of his old letters."

"How is your mom?" I asked. I'd tried to check on her more regularly since the stroke.

"She's good. Yeah." He seemed distant, but maybe he was just lost in thought.

"Hey," I said, caressing his jaw. I couldn't seem to stop touching him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." He tucked one arm behind his head, keeping the other wrapped around me. "I just worry about her, you know?"

"I get it. I worry about her too, and she's not even my mom."

"You say that, but I know she thinks of you as her honorary daughter."

I smiled. "She's always made me feel like part of the family."

"You are part of the family. Greer thinks of you as a sister. And you've probably spent more time with my family than I have."

"You could do something about that, you know," I said, half teasing, half serious. I knew Belinda would love to spend more time with Jackson. Greer as well.

"I've just been so busy, especially since I was assigned to the Crawford residence."

"The Crawford residence," I chortled. "It sounds so formal."

"Hey." He tweaked my nipple, and I hissed as my core flooded with heat. "The safety of our clients is serious business."

"I know, and I appreciate your dedication. I'm sure it isn't easy to protect someone like Nate."

Jackson nodded. "Protecting a celebrity definitely has its challenges."

"I'm sure every client presents a challenge of some sort."

"Yeah. I recently had this assignment where the client was super demanding. And then she had the gall to fire me. Me. "

I laughed, though I worried about the consequences for Jackson, even if I'd been joking about "firing" him. "You know why I fired you."

He took my hand in his, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. "I do. And I don't regret it."

"I hope it won't get you into too much trouble at work," I said. I would've asked him to stay till the end of the trip, but I didn't think he had that kind of vacation time. And even if he did, could he afford to take so much time off? Would he even want to?

It was probably for the best. One night was safer. One night wouldn't muddle the situation or my heart.

"We'll find a way to spin the situation so it won't reflect adversely on you," I said.

"Thanks," he said, his expression darkening. "But what's done is done."

"Maybe you should get that as your next tattoo," I teased, noticing it wasn't the first time he'd said it. And both times, he'd sounded so…resigned. Downtrodden. I hated to think that I was responsible for it.

I hated to think that our choices might impact his career. I knew how much it had cost him to be discharged from the SEALs. I didn't want anything to happen to his position at Hudson because of me.

I propped my head up with my hand. "You said you were hoping to spend more time with your family after our trip. What will you do next? After this assignment, where are you supposed to go?"

He seemed to hesitate, then said, "I'm not sure yet. And you? Will you go back to London?"

I sighed, not wanting to imagine being anywhere but here. With him. "That depends."

"On…" he prompted after I said nothing more. He traced my hip, smoothing his hand over my skin.

"On whether Hudson is able to find and apprehend the source of the threats."

"We will find them," he said in a menacing tone that made me confident they would.

"I hope so," I said. "Otherwise, I'm afraid to see what my brothers will try to do."

Jackson frowned, brushing my hair over my shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"They can be very protective," I said. "I love that they care about me, but sometimes it feels suffocating."

"Is that why you chose to live in London even though everyone else is in LA?"

I chewed on my bottom lip. "That's certainly part of it."

"And the other part?"

I sighed. "The other part was that I needed a change. When I decided to move there, my grandparents had just died, and we'd…"

He tilted his head back in understanding. "Ah. Yeah." He cleared his throat, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I am sorry, Sloan. For the way everything went down. For the things I said."

I captured his hand and drew his palm to my mouth for a kiss, appreciating his apology more than he could ever know. Even so, I didn't want to dwell on it. Not now, when I was still naked in his arms and feeling so vulnerable.

"Do you spend all your time in London?" he asked.

"I travel around to various locations, especially in Europe and Asia. But I consider London my home." I didn't want to talk about myself or my life in London. I wanted to hear about him. What he'd been up to the past fourteen years. What had inspired his tattoos. "This is new." I circled the sextant tattooed on his chest.

The design was simple yet so well rendered it almost looked 3-D. It was one of my favorite new additions to his ink, but maybe that was because it was nautical. And it was part of a larger piece of artwork with a horizon and…

He covered me. "I'll show you something else that's new." He rocked into me, turning my laughter into a moan of pleasure.