He groaned something unintelligible. “I don’t have a condom.”
Fuck. I dug my nails into his chest. I could feel the heat of his full erection between our bodies and I wanted nothing more but to feel it inside me. I had to. So gripping his belt, I tugged. Angrily, I began to undo it.
“Lara… I don’t – ”
His mouth snapped shut when I lowered myself to my knees. In no time, I had my hand wrapped around his cock, his shaft pushing between my swollen lips.
“Fuck, Lara.” His deep grunts sent pangs of pleasure between my thighs. As if reading my mind, Jake squeezed a handful of my hair. “Touch yourself.” The sound of his low growl hypnotized me. Right away, I circled my finger around my clit, satisfying myself as I did the same to him. I hummed against him, my mouth stretching around his thickness. I could hear the sound of his guttural appreciation with every tight, wet pull and it only made me want to suck him harder. Parting my lips wider, I let him rock into me, gripping his flexing thigh muscles as I took every last inch. His helmet pulsing hot against the back of my throat, I could feel him nearing the edge.
He didn’t have to tell me that he was going to come.
I pulled him out with a naughty pop just in time, pointing his cock at my body and letting him finish with a roar onto my breasts. He gnashed his teeth, his awed eyes unblinking as he watched
the endless streams fall onto me, one by one.
Our lips were still locked as he cleaned and zipped me up.
Back at the party, while chatting with Sawyer and Sloane, I could still feel a drop of Jake under my dress, in my skin. Silently, I savored it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I had hoped to talk to Jackson about our fight at Buccieri, but the next morning, he was at a meeting by the time I woke up. The morning after, I found him passed out with Caleb and Sawyer on our couches downstairs, still wearing the suits they’d gone out drinking in. That entire Sunday was spent nursing all three of their hangovers. When I brought Sawyer his 2PM breakfast, he kissed my cheek and asked Jackson if he knew how “fuckin’ lucky” he was to be marrying me.
“Very lucky,” Jackson said distractedly as he read a text on his phone. I glared at him so hard that I knew poor Sawyer could feel the tension because he randomly excused himself to make a call. But even with him gone, Jackson didn’t look my way. He knew I was there but he kept his eyes glued on his phone, blissfully ignoring the fact that I was livid – livid to the point of leaving. He’d done nothing but hurt me for the past couple of months. And every time I tried to make things work, I uncovered another one of his terrible secrets. And somehow, he was the one angry with me.
I had gazed into my closet for a half hour that night, a glass of wine in hand as I wondered what I’d pack if I left. Staring, drinking, I eventually decided on nothing because everything would remind me of Jackson. Then, in my fury, I sat in bed, let the buzz fade, and with a fully sober mind, resolved to talking things out with my fiancé before having any more irrational thoughts.
So on Monday, I awoke shortly after Jackson and found him on the terrace with a cup of coffee. He was half-dressed for work – in checkered boxers and an unbuttoned dress shirt, his grey tie draped around his neck. He looked undeniably adorable, answering emails with one hand and unsuccessfully trying to button his shirt with the other. But I fought the smile curving my lips as I readied myself for a heated discussion.
“Jackson.”
He barely looked up. “What’s up.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’ve spoken probably a total of eight words since Jake’s party.”
“Yeah.”
You ass, I crossed my arms. “Jackson, can we talk about what happened that night?”
He didn’t look up from his phone. “I thought we agreed not to bring it up again because it was ridiculous.”
“No, you said it was ridiculous but I still think it’s pretty valid,” I said, my words measured. “And considering the other dramas we’re coming off of this year, you should probably understand why I might be sensitive to the fact that you’re getting a little too cozy with another woman. The fact that she’s your stepsister and someone you have history with only makes it worse.”
Jackson finally looked up at me. “History?” he repeated.
As in sex, I wanted to say. But since Jake would be my obvious source on that information, I held back. “Yes. History. History that you’ve purposely never told me about, that led me to think it was something traumatic and upsetting when it clearly wasn’t considering how close you two looked the other night.”
Jackson laughed, setting his phone down and standing up. “This Gabrielle thing’s made you paranoid, hasn’t it?”
“Are you kidding me, Jackson?” I felt instant fire in my eyes. “Don’t you dare try to make me look like I’m the crazy one here – I’m not.”
“Then what are you? Audra being in town has to do with Jake coming back to New York. You know my mom, Lara. She’s pushy. She wants things her way and what she wants right now is to see me and Jake reaching out to our stepsister. That was why Audra was at the party and that was why I made an effort to talk to her. I can’t help the way she acts around me.”
“You don’t think you were encouraging her behavior by letting her drape her body all over you and rub her foot on your leg?” I asked incredulously.
“Look, she’s not right in the head.” Jackson jabbed his finger against his temple. “She’s a little crazy. And she’s sensitive. One wrong word and she’ll be running in the other direction and doing something drastic. Last time that happened, my mother blamed me, so forgive me if I’m careful with Audra because I don’t feel like reliving that bullshit again,” Jackson snapped, heading back into the apartment. Heated, I followed.
“What kind of relationship did you two have in the past then? Why don’t you tell me about that?” I asked. “What did you even do that made her leave and why did you make it seem like it was about her and Jake when it was clearly about you?”