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After her dress and panties hit the floor, Chelsea releases her hair, which cascades down her shoulders in sexy chaos. My breathing increases, and the siren steps close again, gliding her palm up my aching dick.
She kneels and takes me into her mouth. I reach out to move her hair, not wanting to miss watching this. Chelsea bobs and swallows until I’m begging incoherently. I tug her hair firmly to get her to stop. The only place I want to finish is inside her.
“Sit on my face,” I demand, my voice choked. Chelsea doesn’t move, so I tug her hair again. “Get your ass up here and sit on my face.”
“Jackson, I can’t. I’d suff_”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, little girl. You’ve got three seconds.”
Chelsea finally obeys and settles her hot body over my hungry mouth. I lick my lips and dive in. She jerks at the first touch of my tongue but soon moans my name.
The sound goes straight to my cock, but it’s the only one I get. I look up to see why and notice Chelsea biting her lip to hold in her cries.
“Let me hear you.”
I reach up and take her hands, encouraging her to move against me. In no time, Chelsea shudders and calls out through her climax. I maintain my grip but slow the pace of my tongue while she soars.
Chelsea’s body slumps as she returns to earth but then quickly shimmies downward to impale herself on my cock. Before she does, I grunt the word condom. Chelsea answers with similar desperation, “Birth control.”
My eyes roll back as she takes me inside and then rocks and rolls her hips. Her tight channel contracts around me because of her climax, heightening the senses of my every nerve ending.
My hands find her full breasts, wanting to erase the memory of Harding’s touch. When Chelsea doesn’t flinch, I know she’s not thinking about that asshat at all. She’s here with me and not lost in her head.
Chelsea begins to tighten around me again, so I move my hands to her hips to help her come a second time. As she careens over the edge, her body tenses, so I hold her hips still and piston into her from below. My release soon explodes from someplace deep, and I finally give out, letting Chelsea collapse to my chest.
I lock my arms around her, content to keep her with me forever in this bed.
Chelsea
Jackson’s heart beats a comforting, steady rhythm as I lie with my ear to his chest. I draw nonsensical shapes on his skin while our breathing returns to normal. Out of the blue, Jackson grabs my wrist and rolls us over, dislodging himself from inside me.
My cowardly self wants to look away, but I force my eyes to remain locked on his. That doesn’t mean I’m not shrinking beneath his intense stare.
“I want you to stop running,” he says.
“I have,” I promise. “I was about to call you when Harding showed up. I didn’t expect you to be here. How did you get here? How did you even know to come? I know Bash didn’t tell you because I asked him not to.”
“Knot,” he answers in explanation.
My forehead creases. “He sent you because he didn’t trust me?”
Jackson shakes his head. “He sent me because he does. Knot knew you wouldn’t sleep with Harding and needed a reason besides your conscience to stop. I could provide the interruption while maintaining your cover. And I think my intervening gives your boss leverage in dealing with Harding.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “Knot intends to blackmail Harding?”
Jackson chuckles and drops a kiss on my nose. “He’s too smart for that, but I don’t doubt he and O’Reilly are cooking up something with the footage they took from my camera.”
My eyes drift closed, and I cover my face. How many will see? “Shit.”
“Hey. Hey,” Jackson soothes, pulling my hand away. “There’s no way those men would let you be caught in the crossfire. Even if they thought to try, you know me, Sadie, Bash, and certainly, Birdie wouldn’t allow it to happen. Stop worrying, and let’s get back to you not running.”
I unclench my eyes and relax beneath Jackson’s smiling face. The words get caught at first, but I’m determined to get them out. “I meant what I said. I’m through running. I’m yours to love, yours to chase around the house, and you’re mine. I can’t promise not to slip up and flip out on occasion. You were right about me being afraid.”
“We’re both afraid. And we will hurt each other. When you love deeply, you hurt just as much. Because we’re imperfect, it’s inevitable.”
“If It Doesn’t Hurt, it was never real,” I whisper. “I’m glad you agree because I’ll probably piss you off at least weekly. I’ve got a lot of shit I’m working through, but I’m pretty sure I’m well on my way to being in love with you.”
“That’s all I could ask for, Yeet.”
