Page 9 of Hidden Desires

“No, you didn’t.” She started shuffling the papers again. “I don’t want to get hurt again, Jackson. It sucks.”

His hand ran the length of her arm. “I promise to give you pleasure first.”

Autumn whirled around, narrowing her eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? I truly thought I loved you. I believed it with all my heart and soul. It wasn’t the kind of love that fades but a true love I believe lasts a lifetime. But when I told you, you mocked me. You laughed in my face and told me you used me. That hurt, Jackson. You played with my emotions and verbally slapped me across the face.”

“I never told you it was more than sex. You can’t hold me responsible for your naivety.”

“You said I was special. One automatically assumes it’s more than sex, Jackson.” She shook her head. “Have you ever been in a real relationship? You know, the kind where you put someone else before yourself because their needs matter more than your own? You should try it sometime. It gets lonely going through the physical act each day without some kind of emotion behind it.”

Jackson didn’t have to answer for Autumn to know his response. Her brothers told her the kind of person he was, the reputation he had. When he wasn’t making his country proud, he was between a woman’s thighs erasing the world of hurt his life bestowed upon him. He was too cocky and selfish to possibly have a real relationship with anyone. His interactions with her said that much. He wanted sex. He probably didn’t even experience any emotion along with it. Autumn found herself almost feeling sorry for him.

“I don’t do relationships,” he said.

“No. You have meaningless sex with a willing skirt who spreads her legs for you.” She grabbed her keys. “I’m done here. We need to stop by Home Depot for some paint and a new counter.”

Jackson left without another word and Autumn trailed behind. His visit was only going to be torture. Welcome to hell.

* * * *

Jackson lay in Autumn’s spare bed, contemplating their earlier discussion. He didn’t understand what her deal was, yet he knew something she had said was right. He turned on his side and punched the pillow beneath his head. The bed wasn’t comfortable and the room was hotter than Hades. But that was the least of his problems. She got under his skin.

He didn’t need a relationship. People like him, with his career and his lifestyle, couldn’t delve into relationships because they’d never last. It didn’t matter. Even if he did love someone there was no guarantee of a happy ending. His parents proved that.

Jackson turned on his back and stared at the ceiling. Why’d I have to think about that? His mother, Beverly, was truly, madly, deeply in love with his father. A relationship that ended with two tragic deaths. One his father’s fault. The other…he sighed and threw the covers back. Sleeping wasn’t a possibility.

Jackson opened his bedroom door, quietly, careful not to wake Autumn. He didn’t really want to deal with her when his mind was a muddled mess. He trudged to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he went.

“Couldn’t sleep, either?” Autumn leaned against the bar, shaking a packet of sugar. Before her sat a steaming mug of tea, her favorite nighttime drink if he remembered correctly.

“Not really.” He took a seat at the bar across from her.

She wore a loose-fitting black pajama set with “P!nk” splayed across the front in the color pink. Her hair was pulled high on her head in a ponytail with a few tendrils of blonde hair falling into her face. She wore no makeup and looked beautiful without it.

“What’s keeping you awake?” he ventured, watching as she took the first sip of her tea.

“Well, I was pissed at you to start out, and when I’m pissed, I clean. My poor room suffered the brunt of my attack, and well, I stumbled across the note that came with the bomb. It sort of creeped me out.”

“There was a note?” Jackson’s attention piqued. “What did it say?”

She took another sip. “Time is running out. What’s yours will soon be mine.”

He saw her hand tremble. Autumn didn’t crack easily. Her brothers roughhoused and teased her relentlessly to the point she was forced to hold her own against them. If an anonymous note had the ability to make her tremble, something serious was going on.

“Where’s the note?”

“I left it in my room on the bed.”

Jackson left long enough to retrieve the note and returned to his spot at the bar with it in his hand. The writing was in normal black ink, scribbled as if the perp was in a hurry. From the look on Autumn’s face and her reaction, he had the feeling she possibly knew who had written the note.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She stared at the note and visibly shivered. “I don’t know, Jackson.”

“If you want me to help you, you have to trust me.”

She sipped from her tea. “Trust is a relative word, don’t you think?”

Jackson knew he deserved that. He deserved everything she threw his way. He was ignorant to assume she’d be a little robot and do as he commanded. He’d dealt with difficult hostage negotiations and hostile warfare, yet stubborn Autumn Faye and her damn mysterious bomber topped the list.

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