Scared of Beautiful (Scared #1)(61)

Chapter 35




Maia

Waking up, face planted in Jackson’s crotch was a touch awkward, I must say.

“This is not the friend zone,” I say pointing at the bulge in his jeans.

“What!” he laughs. “It’s the first thing in the morning. I have no control over that. That and the fact that you’ve been sleeping in that position for the last hour. How much self-control do you think I have?”

I throw a couch cushion at his head and walk over to the bathroom to grab a shower. Before I walk in, Jackson stops me. “Do you want me to come with you today? To the hospital, I mean,” he asks tentatively.

“I’d like that,” I reply smiling. Only briefly do I consider the awkwardness that will ensue when Blake and Jackson run into each other there.

With all the issues that I’ve had over the past few weeks, I find myself standing in the shower thinking only about the bulge in Jackson’s pants. I asked for time, but does sex really qualify a relationship? I’m pretty sure that shower sex, being so reckless in nature, counts even less. Screw it? Screw it!

“Jackson!” I shout.

“Yo!” he calls back from the kitchen.

“I’m wet!” I yell back. Wow, if that’s not a double entendre. I clasp my hand over my mouth. Thankfully as the words fly out of my mouth, the kettle begins to whistle loudly, drowning out my Freudian slip.

“What was that?” Jackson asks from just outside the bathroom door.

“I need a towel, in the hallway cupboard to your left,” I say.

“Should I leave it at the door?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. f-ucking hell, he really is taking this gentleman thing very seriously. “I, um, I have shampoo in my eyes. You may need to bring it in. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, anyway,” I say, the intended seduction in my voice overshadowed by the tremble.

Jackson walks into the bathroom with his eyes averted. I want him to want me. I need it. I know he’s doing everything in his power to keep looking away. Problem is, he’s doing too good a job.

“Can you hand it to me?” I say leaning around the glass of the walk-in shower. As he hands the towel to me, I let my fingers linger on his, almost holding them in mine. His eyes meet mine and any willpower that he was clutching onto falls away. I see it by the way his eyes cloud over with lust. In less than a second his jeans, t-shirt and boxer shorts are all off, and I give his resplendent body a once over.

“Liar,” he says as he walks into the shower.

“How so?” I ask innocently.

“How’d you manage to get shampoo in your eyes when you aren’t actually washing your hair?” he teases. I smile coyly as his hands grab my waist and pull me into him.

Jackson’s mouth crashes over mine, greedily. Hungrily. I drink him down as if I’ve been thirsty in a desert for half my life.

“What about needing time?” he asks as his hand cups my breast and his lips move down to my neck, peppering it with soft, delicious kisses. A soft groan escapes my lips. There is no time when Jackson touches me. Time stands still. My fingers slide over the toned muscles of his upper back, slippery and wet with the cascading water.

Jackson’s body pushes me back against the tiles, and the feeling of his hardness rubbing against my thigh threatens to send me way over the edge. I want it. Mine, it all belongs to me. As if sensing my anticipation, Jackson grabs the backs of my thighs and lifts them around his waist. In one swift motion, he slides into me. If I missed him for nothing else, my God I missed this. He thrusts into me, deeply, with a gentle force that causes my legs to clench like a vice grip around his waist. With each thrust, he delivers a deep and perfectly timed kiss. I can barely breathe, but it is the most beautiful kind of suffocation. My body writhes against his. More, I want more.

Jackson’s hand comes up and holds my chin, pulling my face down so our eyes meet. He kisses me, his gaze never leaving mine. He wants to see me come. To know that I have, before he does. My nails dig into his back as an earth-shattering explosion rocks me from the inside out. Seconds later, Jackson pushes into me with ferocious finality. I collapse against his chest, and we both sink down to the tiled floor. I turn and lean my back against his chest as the warm water falls over us. I can barely catch my breath. Jackson’s fingers trace small lines up and down my thighs. I can hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For now, and I suspect forever, there’s no place I’d rather be.

Perfection is short lived, though, because now we must get dressed and make our way to the hospital. Jackson makes us coffee, and doesn’t discuss the shower. He makes light and pleasant conversation to distract me from my thoughts. For that I am extremely grateful. He knows I’m not ready to go beyond what happened this morning.

As we enter my mother’s room, I see a familiar silhouette seated by her bed. Aunt Megs has her head bowed in silent prayer, a wooden rosary woven through her fingers. She looks up as she hears us approach, and walks over to me, embracing me in a fierce and warm hug.

“What happened, Maia?” she asks.

I tell her the story while Jackson goes off to buy some more coffee. “My father will pay for this Aunt Megs, I promise you. If I need to spend every cent I have to make sure of it,” I say angrily, passionately, as I hold my mother’s hand.

“This is the most peace she’s had in a long time,” Aunt Megs replies, sadness cloaking her face.