Page 67 of Call It What You Want
I sit up, propped up on the palms of my hands. “You only want me because you’ve convinced yourself that I’m not like the other girls. But I’m exactly like them, Jackson. I just don’t show it.”
“You’re wrong,” he says, circling his hand around my throat again, his tone deathly low. “I’ve known a lot of girls, and none even come close to you.”
His words would be sweet if they weren’t spoken with such vitriol, almost like he hates me for forcing him to feel any kind of real, human emotion.
The pressure on my throat makes it hard to speak, but I’m not afraid. He won’t hurt me. I know he won’t. And if I’m wrong, well, I won’t live long enough to regret it, so whatever. “But I’m the girl who walked away.”
There, I said it.
The thought that’s been plaguing me since I got here. The thought I’ve been too afraid to voice—he only wants me, because I’ve made it clear he can’t have me. Not in any real way.
That admission earns me a half-smile. “God, how I wish that were true…” he whispers. Then he pulls me up, forcing me onto my knees. He dips his head so we’re nose to nose, so close I can see the flecks of gold in his irises.
“You’ve been in my head since the very first moment I saw you,” he murmurs. “You’d just moved into the guesthouse. You were carrying a box, and from across the lawn, our eyes met for the briefest second, but it was enough. The world tilted beneath my feet, and I knew I’d never be the same.”
I swallow hard. I don’t remember that at all. My first memory of Jackson is several weeks later, when his mother introduced us. I just stood there, drowning in awkwardness while he looked effortlessly…him.Sexy, infuriatingly confident, like he owned the air around him. The whole thing lasted maybe five seconds, but that moment? It’s literally burned into my memory.
“You were watching me…” I say.
“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he says, his tone softening, his grip around my throat loosening. “I still can’t.” His throat flicks as he swallows. “You’re the air in my fucking lungs, Ava. You always have been.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, but I can already feel my resistance against him weakening. He’s always had this effect onme, and honestly, whenever it happens, it’s terrifying, because it feels like I’m losing control.
But no matter how hard I’ve tried to purge Jackson McKnight from my mind, he’s always there, like a phantom in my own mind.
I inch closer, pressing until my breasts graze his bare chest, his heat searing me. His nostrils flare, and his eyes dilate. I lick my bottom lip. “Tell me you’re mine,” I whisper, twisting his command back on him. “Sayyoubelong tome.”
With his chin raised, he looks down at me, his thumb gently stroking my throat. He laughs under his breath. “Look at you, trying to call the shots…”
I decide to press my advantage, however small it is. Because, you know what, I’m tired. I’m tired of being careful, of checking my feelings for him. “Say it, Jackson. Please. Just this once.”
A long silence stretches between us before his Adam’s apple bobs. “You’ve always been my obsession, Doe-Eyes. You already know that.”
Warmth floods my veins, like a fever right before delirium hits. He could be lying, but I don’t think he is. The way he said it, like the confession was being torn out of his chest, rings true.
Lifting up a little, I press my lips to his. He takes the small offering, pushing forward, his mouth crashing into mine. That skilled tongue sweeps into my mouth, slick and demanding, while his hand drops to my breast and squeezes, his blunt nails sinking into my skin.
Finally, when he pulls back, we’re both out of breath, and he’s looking at me like a predator locks in on a doe in the woods. It’s that same deadly look I see in my nightmares. Only now, it’s directed at me.
And I’m not scared.
Swallowing, I fall back on my heels, my eyes never leaving his face. A slow smile teases the edges of his lips. My breath catchesas he pushes me back and lowers himself over me. I’m caught. Trapped. Completely at his mercy. And fuck if that isn’t a turn on.
Settling between my thighs, he uses his knee to open me wider. My God. I need him to touch me, but I manage to bite back the words. I can’t admit that. Not to him. It’d give him too much power. He’d laugh. He’d tease me, then pull away.
Heat sweeps through my veins like wildfire, touching every cell in my body, making it tingle. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I struggle to pull in a full breath.
“You haunt me,” he says, voice heavy, almost a warning. “Every part of me is screaming for you.”
Dipping his head, he takes one nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. My pussy clenches, and I suck in a sharp breath, trying and failing to remain perfectly still.
But keeping my composure is impossible when his hand moves between our bodies and finds my center. With the tips of two fingers, he rubs my clit in slow circles, stirring up a frenzy inside me that I can’t hide. My toes curl, and my breathing becomes ragged.
“You’re so cruel,” I say, just a breath of sound. It was never like this with Chase. With him, I had to convince myself I was actually into it. With Jackson, the pull is instant. Every touch, every look makes my body react before I can even think twice.
He pauses and pulls back to look down at me. “I’m the cruel one?” He smirks, like he actually thinks that’s funny. “You’re my obsession, Ava. Every little sound you make drives me fucking crazy.” His eyes skate down my face. “Before I brought you to Rush House, I kept thinking if I could just have youone more time,maybe I’d finally be able to let you go. Get you out of my head for good.”
“Is that what you want? To get rid of me for good?”
