Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(20)

“You sure we’re not better off just hiding in the woods?”

“No, I’m not.” He tried to lighten the mood. “But then I wouldn’t be able to press my cock against your sweet ass.”

Her head fell back against his chest. “If we die, know that I love you,” she said with a serious tone.

She’d told him she loved him millions of times over the years, but hearing it here, in the midst of all that was going on, struck him square in the heart. “We’re not going to die.”

The slope looked more treacherous than it was, but his boots slipped on the wet rocks. Using the rope for balance, they propelled down the short distance to the rocky ledge. Jackson pressed his chest to Laney’s back, finding fingerholds and footholds as they inched toward shelter. His foot hit the edge of the dry rocks, and his fingers followed, holding them in place. Laney had climbed with him enough times to know how to use her weight to move them in the right direction. With her right foot securely on the ledge and his legs straddling her hips, he used his weight to push her the remaining distance onto the platform, jumping the last few inches and landing on his hands and knees in front of her. His camera hit the rock with a loud crack! He didn’t give a damn about the camera. His sole focus was Laney’s safety.

“You okay?” She crouched beside him.

“’Course.” He looked past her and nearly fist pumped at the sight of a perfectly dry little cave.

She followed his gaze. “How’d you know that was there?”

“I didn’t. I just saw the shelter away from the trees and knew you’d be safer here than up there.”





Chapter Eight


“WISHING YOU WERE home, dry, and safe, nestled in Bryce’s arms yet?” Jackson asked. He was crouched a few feet away, emptying the backpack, setting out their supplies, and taking stock.

Laney pulled her knees to her chest. Cold had settled into her bones, her entire body was trembling, and he was making snide remarks? She didn’t bother to answer, just shook her head.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. Some guys looked uglier when they said things that pissed her off. Jackson never did. She watched his eyes turn sorrowful as he tipped them up toward her.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Thank you.” She dropped her gaze as the answer came to her. “I don’t, you know.”

His hand stopped midair, but he didn’t look at her.

“I don’t wish I was with him.”

He moved the empty pack to the side. The sound of thunder rumbled overhead. A few seconds later lightning lit up the sky, briefly illuminating their little cave.

He pulled his shirt over his head and turned his back to her, as if she hadn’t spoken, and laid it out on the rock.

“You should take off that wet shirt. You’re trapping the cold in,” he said without looking at her.

She took off her shirt and laid it out beside her. “Jackson, we should talk, don’t you think?”

The muscles in his back bunched as his shoulders rounded forward, and he rested his forehead in his hands with a loud exhalation.

“Yeah. Probably.” He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and conflicted. His skin was damp, his muscles tight, but it was the way he reached for her hand, casually, friendly, that had her moving to his side.

He folded her in his strong arms, holding her without reservation. She loved the way the contours of their bodies melted together, and she knew that no matter what she decided, he’d always care for her.

Gathering her hair over the center of her back, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, warm and tender.

“What do you want, Jackson?” she whispered.

She felt his chest go still and knew he was holding his breath. Feeling his indecision like a thousand needles prickling her heart, she fought the urge to pull away. She didn’t want to pull away anymore. She needed to figure this out as much as he did.

With her heart in her throat, she waited out his silence.

The sound of the rain and the roar of the thunder was smothered by the blood rushing through her ears.

Jackson fisted his hand in her hair and tugged her head back, bringing them eye-to-eye. His were dark and narrow, hers, she was sure, frightened of the precipice on which this decision had put them. She didn’t want to fall over the edge and into Bryce. She didn’t want to push Jackson into a different place in her life—but she had no control over a man who would choose his freedom over her.

“I can’t make this decision for you, Laney.” His tone was sharp, his gaze steady. If not for the thundering of his heart, she might think this was his final decision.

“I know,” she said softly. “I just want to know what you want from me. From us. I’m not asking you to make my decision for me.”

His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, the sharpness turned to tenderness. “I always want you, Laney. You have to know that.”

The weight of a thousand questions fell away, and she lowered her forehead to his shoulder. He pressed his hand to the back of her head, his lips to her temple. His arms tightened around her, holding her so close her inhalations were forced to shallow. Her entire body filled with relief. She’d always known, hadn’t she, that they’d never really be able to give each other up?

She drew back and gazed into his eyes, and in the space of a breath, she felt that confidence slip away.