Page 4 of Call It What You Want
“Don’t worry, he’s alive,” Jackson says, reading my thoughts. “But I’m not gonna lie, he looks a bit uptight. He’s got that Boy Scout energy.”
My throat closes up, and I try to swallow, but it feels like I’m suffocating. I’ve been very careful to keep my life with Chase separate from my past. He doesn’t know anything about Jackson, the senator, or my life in Missouri, and I plan on keeping it that way—even though part of me knew I couldn’t run from Jackson forever.
I pin Jackson with a deadly stare. “What did you tell him?”
Jackson is only inches away from me now, and he reaches up and grabs my chin. I flinch, but that doesn’t even faze him, of course. I don’t think there’s much that fazes Jackson McKnight.
“Are you afraid I told him all about us, Doe-Eyes?” He laughs under his breath, like watching me panic is fun for him.
“No,” I lie. “He knows I was with guys…before.”
“Guys,” he repeats with a laugh. Lowering his head, he brings his mouth so close to mine, I can feel his warm breath brush across my lips. “Baby, it’s not plural. It’s singular.Oneguy.” His fingers trace the line of my jaw, feather-light. “Does he know my name? That I’m the guy who popped that sweet cherry?”
Memories of that summer three years ago come rushing back—the sticky heat, the back of Jackson’s sports car, the weight of his body on top of me, his hips pressing me down into the hot leather. Then a rush of searing pain mixed with the instant relief that he was finally inside me...
I blink and force the thought away.
“We don’t talk about you,” I say truthfully. I wouldn’t dare. I’m too afraid that speaking Jackson’s name would conjure him out of thin air, like an evil Genie with six-pack abs.
“But you think about me, don’t you, Doe-Eyes? Maybe while you’re in the shower, touching yourself…”
Yes. “No.”
I read about this thing called “gray rocking” online. Basically, you become as boring as a rock when a narcissist tries to get a rise out of you. Give them nothing. No anger, no tears, noreaction at all. The theory is they’ll eventually get bored and find a new target to fuck with.
I wonder if that works for murderous psychopaths, too.
Every muscle in my body is pulled tight, and I struggle to control my breathing. I don’t move. I don’t even twitch when he brushes his lips over mine softly. But, fuck, inside, I’mscreaming.My palms are sweating, and my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest.
I already know I have a weakness for Jackson. There’s just something about him, about the way he touches me—that raw, unconstrained hunger—that I’ve always been addicted to. But, like all addictions, eventually, it eats you up and swallows you whole.
When we broke up, I tried to find that feeling with other guys, but no one else ever came close. So, now, all I have is the memory of the raw passion I had with Jackson and a dildo hidden under my mattress that Chase doesn’t know about.
He brushes his lips across mine, and I immediately tighten my muscles to fight my body’s reaction to him.
“Fuck. You,” I bite out.
He leans back with a chuckle. “Sure. I’m always down to fuck your tight little cunt.”
My cheeks instantly heat.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I grate out.
“I’ve given you three years,” he says quietly, his mouth again dangerously close to mine, his fingers stroking my jaw. “I’ve stayed away. I’ve let you live your life, let you date…”
Oh, hell no. He didnotjust say that.
“Youletme?” I pull back as much as he’ll allow, which is less than an inch. But the movement causes the handcuff to pinch my wrist, and I wince. “We broke up, and I know this is difficult for you to grasp, but I’m my own person. I make my own choices.”
His long fingers curl around my throat, and he uses his grip to pull me toward him. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ava. You’re mine, and you always will be. Any freedom you have is because I’ve allowed it.”
“How fucking magnanimous of you,” I say, somehow speaking past the rage that’s lodged in my throat like a stone. “But I’m guessing not here for some kind of kinky reunion, so why don’t you just cut the shit and tell me what you want?”
CHAPTER TWO
Jackson
Goodamn.
