“Everything! It’s everything. Please, let me come.” My words come out like a tidal wave, giving in to his demands.
He adds another finger, curling as he thrusts, while his other hand rubs my swollen clit. I’m almost there, and the build is agonizing. “Let go, Teresa. Let everyone know whose fingers you’re coming on like the good girl you are.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “So close.”
He doesn’t lessen his strokes, the intensity building. “Come for me.’’
His words break the wall of my orgasm. The rush of it frees me, the ecstasy clouding my eyes, my body trembling with the aftershocks. My breathing hitches as he slowly extracts his fingers. His hands leave me in a pool of my own desire, and I slowly come down from my incredible high.
I scramble to fix my clothes, lest anyone see me naked in public, and look up to see Alexander tasting his fingers. My eyes widen with shock.
He licks his lips, as if not wanting to lose a drop. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy our adventures. Might be my favorite flavor.” He leans down and wraps his arms around me to kiss the top of my head.
“Come on, let’s finish the trail and I’ll take you to lunch early.” He grabs my hand, leading me back to the bike before I can answer. Welp, there goes that brick wall.
Alexander takes me to a small mom and pop diner. I don’t know if I have much of an appetite, not after what we just did. Still, I order some fresh fruit and a broccoli and cheddar soup, knowing I’ll need the calories later. I sit there, lost in thought, revisiting our rendezvous, wondering if this is crazy.
“I can see the wheels turning, Teresa. Talk to me.” He reaches across the table to take my hand. I purposefully avert my gaze from his face; if I take one look at him, I’m done, I know it.
“Don’t want to scare you off, Jackson. Look, back there…” I struggle to find the right words. “That was a first for me, unusual, strange. But I… found it exhilarating. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”
He strokes my hands in comfort. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You need some time to process, I understand. I let things get a bit rushed”
Silence falls between us again, and it prompts me to admit something I may regret. “There were two people in this decision, but I want more.”
He’s smirking now, obviously proud of himself. Great, I stroked his ego. “I can do that. What do you want?” He asks a million dollar question.
“Not even the second date yet and you’re asking about future intentions.” I’m nothing if not great at turning awkwardness into sarcasm.
He smirks. “So there’sa second date.”
I throw a grape at him. “Maybe. Look. I want the fun, but I want someone to come home to at the end of the day. I want the laughter, the memories, and hopefully, one day, a family. I can’t afford the games that lead to heartache. And if that it not for you, then we can just the bill and leave”
“I can’t promise perfection. All I wanted was a chance. There is no one else in my life.” He looks serious about that, too. I find that hard to believe, but maybe that’s just the toxic thoughts surfacing.
“I’m not expecting perfection. Let’s see how this goes.” I say turning back to my food.
“Can we get back to the fact that you enjoyed yourself.” Jackson says as he takes a sip of his water.
“Don’t let that get to your head there buddy.” I cock an eyebrow at him.
“I liked when you said Alexander.” He says lowly, almost at a whisper.
“I was in the heat of the moment.” I mutter. We become silent again, letting the air settle.
“Jackson, if you break me, I’ll kill you,” I say half-heartedly. We both know I wouldn’t.
“Darlin’, I’ll hand you the knife.” Just like that I’m on the road to hell with the hound from hell. Into the flames of what is to come.
Chapter 8
WhendidIbecomethe romantic type? The one who fawns over the little things and sidetracks herself more than she already does. Jackson may look like he can snap someone’s neck and he probably has, but damn, I didn’t expect romance. We’ve been out a few more times, but even I was surprised by the flowers on my desk, a card reading “to the many adventures to come".
It’s been a few days and I haven’t heard from him. My anxiety tells me I should check in, hoping I didn’t scare him off. Maybe I let down my guard too soon, said too much. I’m pulled away from my thoughts when Sam walks through the door. “Hey boss lady. Got a minute?” I swivel my chair around to meet her gaze.
“What’s up? Is this a good minute or a bad minute?” I inquire.
“Depends on how you take it,” she says. Sam looks down at the floor, knowing I might not take the news well. “Carla was looking for you.”