Jackson: Chapter 26

A low sexy hum vibrated from River’s chest, and it had every part of Jackson’s body hardening. In one swift move, he lifted her into his arms and pressed her against the shower cubicle wall.

He needed to touch her, kiss her. He needed the reminder that there was still good in the world. Good in him.

Everything, from the fight last night—where every hit had felt like a knockout, where he’d felt eyes on him the entire evening—to this morning, hearing his dad confirm he’d never wanted him and his claim that they were the same…it had every part of him revolting. Souring. Churning.

He hadn’t contacted River because he couldn’t. Because his insides felt raw and he’d needed to breathe.

But now, seeing this woman, he realized she was his air. His goodness. She was every part of him that remained pure.

His hand lowered to her breast, cupping her, grazing her peak with the pad of his thumb.

Her cry was like gas on flames.

He tore his mouth from her lips, trailing kisses down her cheek, her neck. There wasn’t an inch of her that he didn’t want to graze. Taste. Consume.

With desperate hands, he wrenched off her top, then her bra. There were too many barriers, and he wanted none. He wanted her against him, skin to skin.

When her breasts bounced free, blood roared between his ears, deafening him. He didn’t know if the guys were still in the studio, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was her and this moment and the impossible weight that she lifted off his chest.

Lowering his head, he took one light pink bud into his mouth and sucked.

River’s cry pierced through the room, washing out the sound of water hitting tiles. Her back arched off the wall, pressing her breast farther into his mouth. She tasted like every sweet fucking treat he’d ever consumed. His body throbbed and burned for her. Craved her like he’d been having withdrawals.

He switched to her other breast, and there it was again. The hypnotic moan pulled from her throat. The dancing of her fingers along his shoulders and his back, warmed the chill that had taken root under his skin.

He kept her pinned against the wall with his hips as his hands went to her jeans, undoing the button and pushing down the zipper.

“Tell me you want this,” he growled, unable to smooth his voice.

“I want—” Her voice cut off when he dipped his hand into her panties and swiped against her clit. This time her cry was louder, and he watched the flurry of emotions wash over her face.

“You,” she finished with a gasp. “I want you!”

He swiped again, rubbing his thumb against her nub. Her breathing labored. Her body began to writhe in his arms. A finger went to her entrance, and slowly, he pushed inside.

Another cry. Another bit of ice thawing in his chest.

“Jackson.”

He began to move his finger in and out of her, his thumb continuing to torture her clit. When he pushed a second finger inside, he paired it with the latching of his mouth on her neck. He nibbled and sucked.

There was a flurry of whimpers. Of frantic moans. Her limbs were almost shaking, and all he wanted was more. More of everything she was and had.

When he drew his head back to look at her, his heart clenched. Everything inside that had been eating away at him, haunting him…she soothed it. Calmed it. Made him feel human again.

“Now, Jackson!”

He lowered her to her feet for a second. She quickly toed off her shoes while he tugged down her jeans and panties. Then he was lifting her again. Positioning himself at her entrance.

“I don’t fucking deserve you, Rae. But I’m taking you anyway.”

“You do. I love you.”

He sank inside, his temple touching hers when he was all the way in.

He paused, trying to calm the wild need that threatened to consume him. Her soft hand touched his cheek, and a gentle kiss pressed to the other. And there it was. The last remnants of his anger, his frustration at the world, it all faded.

He rocked out before pushing back in. Their temples remained together, the fingers of her uninjured hand shifting to the back of his head, clutching his hair. He rocked back and forth again, watching the scrunching of her eyes. The feverish need rippled over her face.

He held her tightly as he continued to thrust.

How the hell had he had the strength to stay away from her for so long? To keep that distance.

Never again.

When her head fell to the side, he buried his face in her neck, tasting her once again. His hand rose to her breast, holding her, massaging the light weight.

The soft moans and cries releasing from her throat urged him to move faster. To thrust harder.

“Jackson…”

Fuck, he loved hearing his name on her lips.

She was tugging his hair now. Nails of her other hand stinging his shoulder. Her feet dug into his back, pulling him closer on each thrust.

He pinched her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. She arched once more. He thrummed her tight peak again and again, continuing to thrust.

Suddenly, she screamed, her body shattering in his arms and around his length. He continued to rock into her as she convulsed, wanting to stretch out the moment. Make it last every second he could.

Lifting his head, he took her lips once more. The second he tasted her, he broke, his body tensing and seizing.

This woman…she both saved and destroyed him.

River leaned her head back against the car seat, loving the heat of Jackson’s hand on her leg as he drove. The rest of today had been pretty smack bang-on perfect.

After the amazing shower sex, they’d dropped by her house to grab some dry clothes and her camera, and then they’d spent the afternoon together. First grabbing food, then taking it to her favorite nature spot. And the best part, they hadn’t spoken a word about the club or the fights. They’d given themselves permission to have a day off.

God, she could spend every day for the rest of her life like she had today. And she loved that the anger and anxiety and frustration that had been on Jackson’s face was all but wiped clean now. She smiled at the sight.

But the second the smile appeared, it faltered.

Guilt swamped her. Guilt that she was happy and smiling while Ryker was missing. Guilt that he hadn’t been on her mind every waking second of the day.

Was it fair for her to find happiness while he was gone?

No. No, it wasn’t.

Jackson’s fingers squeezed her thigh. “What are you thinking about?”

Had the man seen something on her face? “That life isn’t fair.”

He frowned, taking his gaze off the road to look at her for a second. “You’re right, it’s not. But what made you think about that?”

“You’re just…amazing. I love where we are and everything our relationship has become. But I hate that we’ve only found each other because something terrible happened to Ryker.”

She didn’t miss the slight tightening of his hand on her leg. “Ryker would be happy for us.”

“How do you know?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Every so often, during a drunken night or when we were delirious with exhaustion on a mission, your name would come up. I’d say something about you being beautiful or frustrating or too damn perfect.”

Her cheeks heated at his words, the smile threatening to return to her lips. “Really?”

“Yep. Ryker saw right through my shit. He’d mutter under his breath about us both being too stubborn for our own goods, and I’d pretend I didn’t hear him.”

River threw her head back and laughed. That sounded like Ryker.

“There was one night in particular when we were both dead tired, grumpy as all hell after a twenty-four-hour stakeout. He turned to me and said, ‘You’d better work your shit out before it’s too late.’”

River frowned.

“He didn’t say your name, but we both knew what he was talking about.” Jackson turned to look at her. “He’d be happy for us, River.”

For a moment, tears pressed at her eyes. It had been so long since she’d spoken to her brother. So much longer than any other point in her life, even during his missions. But when Jackson talked about him, she could almost trick herself into thinking he was here. That he was waiting for them at home. Within reaching distance.

“How’s your finger?” he asked quietly.

“It’s fine. I don’t even feel the stitches.”

By his expression, she could tell he didn’t believe her. She turned her hand over, carefully lacing her fingers through his. They drove in silence for a few minutes. When she eventually opened her mouth to say something, she stopped at the frown on Jackson’s face. His gaze was alternating between the road and the rearview mirror.

River started to look behind them but stopped at the gentle tightening of Jackson’s fingers. “Don’t turn around,” he said quietly. “I think we have a tail.”

“What?” The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. “Can you see them?”

“Yes.”

He took his hand from hers to grab the wheel and sped up the car.

She bit her bottom lip. It was taking everything in her not to look behind them. “What are you going to do?”

“Lose them and call the guys.” He grabbed his phone, then Declan was on loudspeaker.

“Jackson, everything okay?”

“I have a tail.”

There was a short pause. “Where are you?”

“Berkley Street, near River’s house. I’m going to lose him. I want you and Cole to meet me at her place, just in case.”

River sucked in a sharp breath. Just in case what? The tail beat them there? Had friends waiting for them?

“Done.”

“Thanks.” Jackson hung up the phone.

“Do you think you’ll be able to lose him?” she asked quietly.

The next corner was sharp. He grabbed her arm moments before she slammed into the door.

“I know these streets like the back of my hand, so chances are good.” His gaze shot to the rearview mirror once again.

She gave a small nod.

It didn’t take him long. A few minutes of sharp turns and driving above the speed limit and Jackson slowed, glancing behind them once again.

“Is he gone?” she asked.

He gave a sharp nod.

“Do you think he was with Mickey or Elijah?”

“I don’t know.” A thick tension tangled in his words.

Okay, her perfect bubble of a day was over. “Did you learn something about Ryker or the club last night?”

She hadn’t wanted to ask earlier, but she may as well now.

“Let’s talk about it inside.”

That was all Jackson said before he pulled up outside her house. He parked on the street, and a second later, Declan and Cole pulled up behind them.

Jackson grabbed a gun from beneath his seat before climbing out. Declan and Cole were already on the sidewalk.

River swallowed. All three men were glancing around the street, the house, like they were waiting for someone to jump out with guns of their own.

The house was dark when Declan opened it, he and Cole stepping inside first. She remained on the porch, Jackson’s hand holding hers.

Declan flicked a light on—and River’s heart jumped into her throat. Because even from outside, she could see them.

It was Jackson who spoke first. “What the fuck are you doing here, Kenny…and who’s your friend?”