Page 208 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

Cold air sweeps between us as he takes a step back, and he says, “Turn around.”

With a huff, I complain, “So demanding.” When I do as I’m told, I’m lifted immediately and set on the counter I was just bent over. The shock of cold shoots through me as his hands part my legs. “Relax, baby.”

His mouth starts on my inner thigh, and then he works his way higher until his tongue is fucking my center. And then my phone buzzes on the counter next to my arm, and we both freeze. “Damn,” I say, breathless and already so close even though he just got started.

Just as I pull his head back to me, I make the mistake of glancing over.

“Ignore it,” he says, dipping forward again and swiping his tongue between my lips. His hand comes up and squeezes my breast and then the other.

Closing my eyes, I focus on his hands and the feel of him kissing my clit. But after a few seconds, I start to sit up, saying, “I’m sor—Oh, my God!” The pressure is so intense that my thoughts muddle, and his mouth on me becomes my only reality.

Relentless, he kisses and licks, thrusts with his tongue, and sucks until I lose control, my fingers weaving into his hair and tugging as an orgasm rips through me. “Jackson, oh, God. Yes.”

Everything is given, but he takes even more as I lie back on the counter, my body now jelly. Splayed across the stone, I finally have enough energy to open my eyes. Coming around to the other side of me, he kisses me upside down and then says, “I won.”

As he walks back toward the bedroom, I turn to watch because damn, he’s fine. “I could argue otherwise.”

He chuckles as he leaves from view. “For the record,” I say loud enough for him to hear, “I wasn’t even in the mood for sex until you walked out here in that towel.”

“I’ll make sure to wear them more often then.”

I start laughing. Like he ever has trouble getting sex out of me. The man is magical in every way. As I lie there still struggling to even my breath, my phone buzzes again, and all good vibes disappear. I push up on one hand to read the message on the screen.

Mom:I’ll be at the bar at Baccarat at nine. We can catch up. Just us.

I sit all the way up and return the text:I’ll see you there.

“You sure youdon’t want me to come with you?”

I stop with the mascara wand in my hand and lengthen my gaze in the reflection of the mirror to where Jackson is sitting on the edge of the tub. “I appreciate that you’re always there for me, but I need to do this alone. She’s the life of the party to the world, but with me, she’s always been a bit skittish, so if I show up with anyone else, she’ll shut down on me.” Before he says anything, I add, “It’s a trait I’m trying to break myself, so I appreciate your patience while I learn to work through my issues instead of running from them.”

He grins. “Proud of you.” Standing, he says, “Another glass of champagne?”

“No, I’m being careful after last night.” The glass still remains next to the tub where I took a bath earlier. “Having a glass was good to settle my stomach and my nerves, but I won’t be drinking much tonight.” I lean in and swipe the mascara on my lashes.

“If you do, make sure you eat something first.”

Some might tease him about being a worrywart, but not me. I’m eating it up. Other than Tealey and Cam, I’ve never had someone care so much about my well-being. It’s new, and it feels good. “I will, but I’m not sure if we’ll be there long. It would be great if we turned a corner on our relationship. I just don’t want to be disappointed again.”

Jackson comes close and leans on the counter next to me. Looking me in the eyes, he says, “You have nothing left to lose, Marlow. You should tell her how you feel.”

“If I told her how I really feel, I’d never see her again.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it.Only truth.

I drop my mascara in the case and grab a nude lipstick. One of the few things my mom ever taught me is when I go heavy on the eye makeup, go light on the lip, and vice versa. They shouldn’t compete. She’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. She knows makeup. I just wish she knew me.

He kisses my shoulder. “You’re a very beautiful woman inside and out. Don’t let her tell you otherwise.” Pushing off, he leaves the bathroom.

As I finish getting ready, I hold tight to his words. I’ll need his strength to get through this night.

Thirty minutes later, Jackson walks me to the car he ordered. I’m given a kiss and a solid slap on the ass before I get in. The heat and tingling have me smirking. “Save it for the bedroom, Romeo.” Doesn’t matter how much we try to resist each other physically, it’s virtually impossible. It’s what brought us together and is still the easiest way for us to connect.

“Don’t you worry about that, baby. I have all kinds of stuff planned for the bedroom when you get home.”

Home.

Has a sweeter word ever been said? He’s opened his apartment, his arms, and his heart to me. Our hearts and—I can say with confidence—souls are emotionally entwined. We’re still learning everything else as we go along.

I’ve always been a little different from my friends. Not everything has to be coming up roses for me. I’ve never been much of a romantic anyway. But Jackson sure knows how to make me feel special. I blow him a kiss after sinking into the back seat. He shuts the door, but I tell the driver. “Wait.” Rolling down the window, I say, “Hey?”

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