Same time next week, p.31
Same Time Next Week, page 31
Jackson was reminded of that night, the first night, the first time they were together. The longing for her, wanting her, watching her and how she moved. Like she couldn’t get enough of him, like she hadn’t had sex… good or otherwise... in a long, long time.
He understood so much now. She had been hungry. Sex starved. She swallowed him up and came back for more. Every time with her seemed like that first time. He hoped this time would feel like that, too. A long awaited reunion full of passion and, most importantly, the promise of tomorrow.
Shelby seemed quiet, comparatively. Except for the very vocal orgasm, she didn't take on her usual role of goading and teasing, tossing banter back and forth, making sex with her fun and exciting. Maybe it had something to do with how he took over the situation as soon as they hit the room. She was giving control to him, letting him call the shots where she normally would.
"How we doin'?" he asked, rolling on top again and squirming at the feeling of her legs closing around him.
"We are fine," she said, her voice soft but carrying that the undertone that sent shivers up his spine and made the hairs on his nape stand on end. He dove into her, burying his face into her neck, nibbling and biting at her skin, her earlobes, her cheek, her chin, then beginning his descent down her body. Past her neck, where he took a moment to savor the dip at her throat. Down her chest, where he stopped to linger over one nipple and then the other, teasing her back to the simmering point. Further down, across her belly, the skin so smooth and soft, he laid there a while, drifting the pads of his fingers across from one side of her to the other.
Finally moving on, he crept past her belly button and lower belly to a mound of sensitive skin and nerve endings, the root of fire and passion. He took his time, laying light kisses along her thighs, savoring her skin and how it felt against his, and then moving back up to the whole point of his journey.
Soft, slow, gentle, tender at first, he teased her, his tongue working its way along the folds of skin and up to her clit, engorged and red. Shelby's legs opened further, her head tipped up, watching him. Her breath caught in her throat as he took the sensitive, red-hot bud into his mouth and played with it, his tongue stroking in a rhythm that did nothing to settle the boil. Shelby gasped, sucking in air, her hips arching toward him, hands flying to the back of his head, pressing him harder into her. This brought a moan from his throat and roll to his hips as he rubbed against the comforter that covered the bed. His dick was erect, rock solid beneath him, trapped between the warmth of his body and the give of the mattress, ready to explode, as soon as it made contact with something wet.
Hang in there, he told himself, circling his tongue around her clit, riding the movements of her hips as she bucked against his face, watching her breasts and eraser tipped nipples lift and roll, listening to her moan and grunt and beg, "don't stop. Please, please don't stop."
He had no intention of stopping. He followed his plan to ride it out until the end, until her body convulsed and her hips jerked and her toes curled. Until her hands closed around a tuft of his hair and her legs involuntarily closed around him and held him there. Until her cries grew in intensity and the volume reached a peak level and then when it was over, all she could do was lay there, limp and staring at the ceiling with a grin a mile wide on her face.
"And that's how we do it," he said, his grin cocky.
She seemed to do her best to lift her head, if only slightly. "Proud of yourself, aren't you?"
"Very. Really. Very. We still doing fine?"
"Oh, baby," she answered, venturing a roll to her side, where he'd climbed up and laid next to her, his lips already on her again. "I am more than fine."
"Grab some water. You sound parched." He nodded his head toward the bottles on the nightstand. "And grab one of those–you know what? You're weak. Nevermind.”
"You're feeling yourself," Shelby said, giggling. Jackson sat up and reached over her, picked up two bottles and a square package and came back to rest beside her. He handed her one but she pushed it away and sat up.
"What? What's wrong?"
Shelby glanced at him with fire in her eyes and a teasing smile. "Nothing. Everything's right for once."
Jackson was never much for foreplay and teasing. As much as he dished it out, if he was hard, he was ready. Shelby was the one that liked to play, to drag it out, to tease him to hell and back. Not this time. This time, she went straight for the jugular, moving down his body with a speed he'd never seen before. He almost didn't know what was going on, until one hand was wrapped around the base of his dick and the tip of him was in her mouth, being bathed by her tongue. In one fluid movement, she sank down onto him, his dick wrapped in warmth and wetness and pressure. Such good pressure.
He relaxed against the mattress, letting her work, his head lolled to the side, trying to watch but feeling his eyelids slide closed. The feeling was magic and ecstasy and elation, all in one big jumble, piling one onto another. Shelby knew what she was doing, and for the first time, Jackson was a little bit grateful for her past. What she'd been through in the years before she met him had created an incredibly skilled lover. He rather enjoyed reaping the benefits, especially when she could sense that he was on the edge and could feel him throbbing and pulsing.
He grunted, his hips moving on their own, thrusting into her mouth. Her eyes flicked up and caught his gaze. She smiled around him.
"Shit. Lookin' at you, your mouth full of my dick. Driving me crazy. Make me come, mama. Take me there."
Never one to turn down a request, Shelby obliged and increased the pressure. Her tongue swirled and her hand stroked and her mouth sucked, until his teeth clenched and his body curled and a long, loud, tortured grunt poured forth. Shelby made a sound, sort of a whimper but kind of a moan, watching him as he came, holding him in the warmth of her mouth until he was spent.
Jackson collapsed against the mattress, wiping sweat from his brow, heaving deep breaths. Then reached for her, pulling her up by her arms until they were face to face, then rolling them so he was on top again.
"I can't wait," he said, laughing, scrounging around the bed for the square package he'd tossed aside when she made her move. "I think you're laying on it."
"On what?"
"The condom. Sit up."
"You put me here. Now I have to move?"
"Shelby–I don't know why I'm arguing with you" Shelby giggled as he practically picked her up off of the bed, retrieved the condom package and laid her back down. "You're a bad girl. I want you to know that." He ripped the package open and pulled out the latex ring and sheath, tossing pieces of wrapper in either direction around them and rolling it on.
She laughed, watching him, her eyes full of evil mischief. "A bad girl? Oh nooooo. I think you should teach me a lesson."
Jackson looked up from his task, his eyes focused on her. "Like I said. I plan on it."
"I'm shakin' in my... socks," she said, kicking a leg up.
"Good," Jackson replied, climbing over her, moving her legs so he could get between them. "Because this is gonna be one memorable fuck, right here."
Shelby started to laugh, but it cut off as soon as Jackson lowered himself onto her, capturing her lips in his teeth, sucking on her bottom lip. She moaned, grabbing his face and kissing him back, playing with his tongue, volleying the kiss back and forth with feverish intensity. He dipped a hand between them and guided himself to her, his body reacting with a shudder at the sensation of being surrounded by her. Her back arched and her hips bucked, bringing him further inside. Her legs tightened, holding him to her as he began to move inside her.
Slowly at first, then with building passion, they moved together as if they were one being. Joined at the mouth, bodies pressed against each other so closely their sweat mingled, hips thrusting into one another, legs tangled in each other. Shelby was the first to break the kiss, giving way to moans and random mutterings.
"I can't hear you," he said, moving above her, their bodies slapping together with a flat, smacking sound in perfect rhythm. "Tell me."
"Shit," was all she said. All she seemed to be able to utter, between pants and groans.
"That's it? Shit?"
"Shit!" She screamed, writing beneath him. "You feel good, so fucking good to me. I missed this."
"That's more like it," he said, laughing, scooting up a little and then resuming his thrusthrusthrust into her. "You feel good, baby. This is how it should be, you know? You and me. Don't make me go without this again, okay?"
"Okay. Yes. Just... oh my GOD!" Shelby convulsed, her hips clenching, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Right there. Please. Oh... God! Please make me come!"
"What do you think I'm doing up here?"
"Fuck," she said, with a laugh that turned into a desperate whinemoanwhimper. "Make me come. Please please please…."
Shelby was panting, heaving, glistening with sweat, her little body working hard. She unhooked her legs from around him and spread them wide, arching her body up to his, grabbing his hips and pulling him to her.
"Yeah!” She yelped. “Right there! That's right on my clit. Don't stop. Don't......shit!!"
Jackson felt like his dick had been shoved into a clamp that was systematically tightening over and over. He watched the wave roll over Shelby like the tide, up and down and back up again. Every time it rolled, she clenched and yelped and jerked, milking him until the siren song of orgasm lured him in as well. Their cries and moans and grunts and laughs mixed in the air until there was nothing but sighs and whimpers and gulps. Jackson lay on top of a sedate Shelby, who appeared to be asleep except for the telltale smile on her face.
"Memorable indeed," she mumbled, without even opening her eyes.
"I told you. And there's more where that came from."
"I can't tell you how happy that makes me." Her eyes opened slowly, the brown in them glazed over. "How about that water you offered and then didn't let me drink?"
He laughed. "Oh, nuh uh. Not my fault. You refused the water, trying to get at me. All hot in the ass over there." He sat up, retrieving the bottles of water that had rolled onto the floor amid all the activity, then lay beside her.
"I'll show you who's hot in the ass." She pointed at him, sitting up cross-legged on the bed, taking the open bottle that he offered and gulping down half of it.
“So… what do you think, Miss Shelby?”
She gave him a look that told him he'd said the wrong thing. “Don’t call me that. Ever.”
He winced, his eyes apologetic. “Sorry.”
“I don’t want any reminder of Lucas between us. This is perfect, right here.”
“I agree. I think we should try to keep it perfect, you know?”
“Yeah. I know. And…I…”
“And…you…”
Her head rolled toward him, her eyes upward to meet his. “If you still want to make this official… I want that, too.”
He was both pleased and disappointed at the same time. It’ll come, he told himself. Be patient. It’ll come.
Chapter 31
Jackson
He fully expected Shelby to be up and about, but when he yawned and stretched his arms out, his wrist brushed against soft hair. She laid next to him, on her stomach, her top half uncovered; bottom half beneath the sheets and thin hotel bedspread.
He smirked to himself. Must have worn her out.
Jackson lay next to her and indulged in a few minutes of staring. From the tip of her head–disheveled waves spread around the pillow like a halo–to the long neck his eyes had crawled the first time he ever saw her in the dead of night at Publix. Her bare back, long and smooth, even toned skin leading to the curve of her bottom under the sheet and twin lumps of her thighs and further down, her calves and little feet. Her sleeping form held his attention for longer than he cared to admit. He was amazed, actually. It was broad daylight and Shelby was still sleeping.
If she was anything like him, she hadn't slept well for a few nights. He yawned, careful not to be too loud or move too much, but she didn't budge. Her breaths were long and steady, in and out. In and out.
Jackson stared at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the ocean, muted through the windows. Thinking about the whole long and drawn out story. Contemplating.
Today’s the day. For Shelby’s sake, but especially mine, I hope it ends today. I need it to end today.
The thoughts were nagging and annoying and relentless. Also useless. His brain was telling him to run like hell. His heart wouldn't let his feet move.
He eased out of the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket back up, covering Shelby to her neck, then picked up his duffel bag and tip toed into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Minutes later, he emerged, clean and dressed, dropped his duffel bag back where he'd left it before, slid his wallet, keycard, and keys into his pocket. A quick glance over to the bed told him Shelby hadn't moved an inch. He watched her back, saw her take a deep breath in, and then out and then in and out again. Satisfied she was still asleep, he slipped out of the door.
Shelby
Her brain was foggy. A heavy blanket had been laid over her head, filtering everything out and keeping her from being able to think straight.
Ocean. She heard ocean. Peaceful, wonderful, blissful ocean. Had to be a dream, a dream about Miami, about being home, somewhere on the beach, maybe. The blanket and the fog were lifting inch by inch, her mind was working, coming to life. Events from the past few days were starting to come back.
The package. Jackson. Miami. Robin. Jackson. The beach. Jackson. The confession. The hotel. Jackson.
Jackson!
Shelby's eyes popped open and she sat up, springing onto her hands and knees, her eyes darting around the room. She was alone and it was dead quiet. The other side of the bed was mussed and sort of made up. Jackson's bag sat in the same spot it was sitting the night before, but the room was empty.
She flipped over in the bed, scooting back against the head board, pushing her hair back from her face, gathering her thoughts. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tight against her as days prior flooded her cobwebbed mind. She remembered now, telling him the story. Feeling relieved to get it out, feeling guilty for feeling relieved that he wasn't angrier, or that he hadn't stormed out and he was sticking by her even though he shouldn’t.
A beep sounded outside the door and the handle jiggled before it opened. Jackson walked in, catching the door before it could click into the lock and pushed it closed. A paper bag rustled in his arms as he stepped lightly into the room and then stopped when he saw her.
"You're up," he said simply. "I kept watching you sleep to make sure you were breathing." He set the bag on the edge of the bed and walked around to her side, settling gently on the edge. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead and then pulled back to look at her. His eyes began to cloud, and his forehead grew a few creases that weren't there moments ago. "You alright, Shelby? You feel okay?"
"I'm fine. Where'd you go?"
"I was hungry,” he said, reaching for the bag and then opening it, unloading its bounty in her lap. "Got some light stuff. Bagels, cream cheese, some fruit.” He glanced up at her and caught her wide eyes staring at him. “We should eat something and then we should probably go.”
"Thank you," she said, reaching for a mini-bagel, tinted blue from the berries. She ripped it in half and shoved the dry bread into her mouth. "Last night… I wanted to say it–"
"Hey," he interrupted, stopping her with a hand on her arm. Her head shot up and her eyes met his. "Let's take this a little bit at a time, okay? Why don't you relax and eat. And then get dressed."
He dug a copy of the Miami Tribune out of the bag and then tossed the bag away.
“Chop chop, sleepy.” He climbed up onto the bed next to her, grabbed a muffin and bit into it. "By the way,” he said, grinning around a full mouth. “I never thought I would be calling you sleepy."
She laughed a little as she sat next to him, reading the paper over his shoulder, chewing on a bagel, thinking about the day.
"You know, I was thinking about something.” He turned the pages of the paper, scanning the headlines. She glanced up at him, wearing a confused, quizzical expression. "I was thinking maybe I’d date you for your money.”
Shelby stared blankly at him for a moment. The mirth in his eyes was irresistible. So were the laugh lines around them and the creeping smile across his face and the hearty laugh that came from within him. He was trying.
Shelby elbowed him, stole the Life section from the paper, and muttered, “You didn’t get any coffee?"
Chapter 32
Shelby
Eight chairs were positioned around a long table in a conference room of the Law Offices of Gold & Farmer. Jackson and Shelby were the first to arrive, impossibly early due to Shelby's nerves.
The receptionist showed them into the room, poured two delicate china cups of strong black coffee and slipped out of the room. And then there was quiet. Jackson and Shelby sat next to each other, watching the clock on the wall and waiting. Minutes ticked by with nothing but the sounds of traffic twelve stories below and the tip of Shelby's heel rhythmically tapping against the base of her chair.
The door swung open and Robin swept in wearing a black pantsuit accented with sterling silver jewelry. Her hair was drawn to a long ponytail banded at the base of her neck. Elegant and professional, Robin flashed a bright smile at the only other occupants in the room.
"Geez, Shelby," she scolded, laying a hand on her back, smoothing her hair down. "You look so nervous. You might want to pick up a game face. The Trust Attorneys are on their way up from the lobby."
