I fixed myself a plate of spaghetti and called Willow after I ate.
“So, I met someone today.”
“What’s his name? Will Jackson be jealous?”
“Don’t be silly, she’s a girl and her name is Bella.”
“Do I need to be jealous instead?” Willow said with a laugh.
“I wish. She’s roped me into going to the Trojans stadium with her tomorrow.”
“Jeez, I miss you so much. But I am proud that you are striking out on your own. I’m going to have to find new friends myself.”
“I’ll be back soon, once I get a grip on my classes.”
“By the way, I ran into your parents and your mom almost cried when she saw me.”
“I wonder if my mom ever cried when she saw Jackson around town?”
“Gosh, you’ve got Jackson on the mind. Speaking of him, I also saw your brother.”
“Let me guess…” I started to say.
“He asked if you’d gone on any dates,” Willow replied.
“He’s always been overprotective. I need to start living my life.”
I missed Willow so much, and we talked late into the night.
I realized that it was eleven and that Jackson was still not home. I started to worry that something happened. I put the leftovers in the fridge and decided to have a glass of wine and read in bed.
Jackson had no reason to tell me that he was going to be home late or not at all. It was ridiculous to even consider but I sighed heavily as I let the idea of him spending the night with a woman cross my mind. I wanted him so badly but there was no way it could work out. He deserved to be with someone who he could be out and open about. I knew that if family ever visited us, I’d be too worried about them finding out about us and ruin everything.
I should just stop thinking about it, but I wanted him. I wanted Jackson to kiss me the way I’d always imagined. I longed for slow, deep kisses that led to the hungry kind that I read about in books. I dreamed of his mouth on my body, claiming places that even my ex hadn’t. My skin burned at the thought of his touch and I dropped against my pillow as I breathed out.
Back in high school, I’d heard things about Jackson. Girls who slept with him said that he was great in bed. They bragged about being a notch on his bedpost and I wondered what he’d feel like inside me.
I sighed and slid my hand down my body as the desire hit me. I didn’t touch myself often but tonight I was horny and a little buzzed from the wine. I made a point of listening for the front door as I slipped my hand into my underwear, finding my folds wet and slick. I moaned as I stroked myself, finding my swollen clit and pressing down on it as pleasure burst through me.
In my imagination, it was Jackson’s hands exploring me.
My hands moved faster as the heat rushed to my thighs, needing the release that had been a constant ache since moving in here. I thought it was bad when I was in high school when I thought about Jackson but now it was near unbearable. I closed my eyes and rocked against my hand as I searched for the orgasm that was buried inside me.
I played the fantasy of his mouth on me as I kept going, longing for Jackson to be the one pleasuring me. I wanted his face buried between my legs, licking and tasting me. I wanted his mouth on my nipples, sucking and biting. I wanted everything that no man had given me before and I felt the shift in my body. I was very wet now, and my hand slid easily inside myself as I pressed my palm against my clit.
If it had been Jackson touching me, he might have already managed to get me off by now. I kept thrusting with two fingers as I rocked with the movement. I cried out as I came, forgetting all about listening for the door as my heat washed over my hand. It was powerful, and I dropped my head back as I rode through the aftershocks.
If that was good with just my hand, I couldn’t imagine how good it would be with Jackson. I breathed deep as I felt my body relax for the night. Reaching for my wine, I drank that last long sip and set the glass on the dresser beside the bed.
I listened to the quiet of the apartment as I closed my eyes, continuing to dream about Jackson.
I woke up to the sound of the front door. I glanced at the clock to see that it was past two. I wondered where he had been as he closed and locked the door, continuing to listen as he walked down the hall. I swore he paused for a moment outside my door and I stared at it longing to tell him to come in. Perhaps he didn’t know if I was home and was wondering where I was.