Page 66 of Middle Ground
I frown when I see him standing on the edge of the porch, like he’s about to leave. I lean against the doorframe. “Are you not coming in?”
His brows furrow. “Coming in? I thought—” He shakes his head as he comes closer. “Never mind.”
I step into the entryway to let him by. “What did you think I meant bytake me home?”
Jackson runs a hand through his hair. It’s already a little dishevelled from my fingers back at the creek. He looks adorably nervous right now, which seems entirely out of character for him. Then again, this is new territory for us.
“I got in my head,” he replies. “I guess I figured you changed your mind, and I would have to do a lot more than bring you coffee to get back into your good graces.”
“Get back in my good graces?” I grin. “Who said you were ever in them?”
He shrugs as he takes another step toward me. “I don’t know.” He smiles. “I seem to be doing something right.”
I’m not sure what happened, but something in me snapped back at the creek. I’mtiredof fighting this pull between us. Now, I fully plan to give in.
I take hold of his shirtfront and tug him toward me, and I let my lips crash into his like an inevitable head-on collision. There will be broken glass and debris in our wake, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when he hooks his fingers into my belt loops and pulls me flushagainst him.
I begin to walk backwards, tugging him with me. He closes the door with his foot, and then I’m pushing his back up against it.
His hands gravitate toward my hips, anchoring there. Then he pivots us, and my back hits the door. His knee nudges my thighs apart.
“Just once,” I say. “We’re only doing this once.”
I feel Jackson’s smirk curve against my jaw. “I have a hard time believing you’ll be able to keep your hands off me, Ellison. It’s already difficult enough for your eyes.”
In response, I reach out and pinch one of his nipples through his shirt. His answering nip of my earlobe sends a thrill down my spine. Jackson and I are evenly matched in this way—this push and pull. He gives and I take, and when I offer myself to him, his response is nothing but greed.
A glutton for punishment. A glutton forme.
“One time,” I try again.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Just this once.”
Just once to purge this growing need from my body. Just once to sate the curious part of me that wonders what it would be like to have Jackson. All of him.
He takes my hand and starts tugging me toward the hallway. Toward my bedroom. But that sends a bolt of uneasiness through me. Because that makes things too real, letting him into my space, and that’s not what this is. This is purely to scratch an itch.
“This way,” I say, drawing him to the living room instead.
I push him onto the worn sofa, and he goes willingly. For a second, I just admire him like this, sitting against the backof the couch. His hair is slightly mussed, his lips are swollen, and his erection is visibly straining against his slacks.
A small part of me wants to savour this, but the longer this draws on, the harder it will be to keep myself detached. Quick and easy—that’s what I need.
I unfasten the button on my shorts and slide them down my legs. Then I chuck them across the room before I slide onto Jackson’s lap, straddling him. His hands slide up my thighs to rest on the curve of my ass. He rocks me against him, both of us groaning at the friction it creates.
I undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing his firm chest. I let my gaze wander as he slides it off his shoulders, then tosses it aside.
“Are you ogling me, Ellison?”
My eyes snap up, and I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He simply leans back, giving me a better view. “Look all you like, baby,” he says. “I love having your eyes on me.”
Something twists inside my chest at the earnestness of his statement. Beneath the haze of lust, all I see is truth shining in his gaze, and it fractures a little piece of my soul. Too much—this istoo much. He must sense the rising panic because he blinks, and that look he was giving me is gone.
“If I can only have you once,” he says, eyes darkening, “then I’m not wasting any more time.” He hooks a finger under my chin. “Come here.”
I obey, letting my lips crash against his. And then Jackson is pulling back and helping me out of my t-shirt. He tosses it to the floor in the same direction my shorts landed.
