Hope for Him (Hope Series Book #2) (21 page)

I moved slow, trying to prolong it as long as possible, but it did no good. I couldn't hold back any longer. I pinned her against the wall, my body shook, and I forgot to breathe as I buried my head into her neck and held her close. She held on, too.

She ran a hand through my hair and down my neck. When I regained control, I saw a tear falling down her cheeks.

"Oh, baby," I said and wiped the tear away. I wasn't sure why she was crying, but I hoped it was happy tears. I leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped me.

I searched her face for confirmation we were on the same page. I wanted her to talk to me. Tell me something to reassure me she felt the same.

"Jackson Latre Mitchell." She gave me a soft peck on the lips and stared into my eyes. "I love you, too."

C
arrington Olivia Butler

I lay next to Jackson with his arms around me. His breath vibrated against my neck as he snored; I felt safe, secure, and normal.

My phone rang from downstairs.  I slid out of bed, grabbed Jackson's sweatshirt off the door and pulled it over my head as I went in search of my phone. I had missed two calls from Kayla.

I called her back.

"Hey. What's wrong? Is Jack okay?"

"Yeah, of course. I was checking on you. I fell asleep on the couch and when you weren't back yet, I freaked out."

"I'm at Jackson’s."

"Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief and let out a scream. "Oh, my God. You and Jackson?" 

"Listen, don't get all excited. We had a nice time, but we decided to take it slow and see what happens. No pressure."

“And then you had sex,” she said.

“Yeah, something like that.”

"I'm so excited for you."

I leaned against the kitchen counter and felt a grin spread across my face. I was pretty happy for me, too.

"Are you okay staying the night?" I asked.

"What? It's like two am. Of course."

"Am I being an irresponsible parent? Am I being a slut?"

"No. Come on. Mommy needs lovin’, too."

"Kayla, you're awesome." I laughed. "Okay, I'll be home after class. Kiss Jack for me."

"Night."

I headed back in the bedroom.

“Oh wow. You scared me. Did I wake you?’

I found Jackson sitting up in bed. He had the cutest grin on his face, and his hair was all messed up. He didn't speak, he just reached out for me and I hopped into bed and straddled his lap. Planting kisses all over his neck and cheek.

"I thought you left, and then I heard your voice, and now I can't stop smiling."

"You were amazing last night."

"Thank you," he said as he placed his hands on either side of my head and kissed me. I placed my hands over his, laced my fingers with his, and kissed him deeper. I pulled his hands down and wrapped his arm around me. I loved the way he held me, and I couldn't get enough of his lips.

"I wouldn't sneak out on you in the middle of the night."

"No." He latched on to my neck with his lips, and it sent an electric pulse down between my legs. I wanted Jackson inside me. I pushed him back and reached in the nightstand for another condom as he grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. I pushed the covers out of the way, and Jackson was ready for me. I slid the condom on and moved over him. He slid into me and I stopped.

I stayed that way for a minute, feeling him inside of me. He palmed my breast and massaged my ass, coaxing me into moving.

When he came up for air from kissing my neck, he leaned back against the headboard and ran his hands up and down my body. He made tiny movements with his hips and I became short of breath and placed my hand on his chest to anchor myself when the orgasm hit me. His slight movement sent a wave crashing into me, and I held on for dear life.

"God, you are so beautiful, right now."

I leaned forward on my knees and sat back down on his lap and Jackson moaned. I didn't move for a minute, but leaned forward and sat back down, again. The tortured look on Jackson’s face was all the encouragement I needed to keep going. I teased him with steady movement but stopped, fascinated with a spot on his neck that I had to taste.

"You are trying to kill me," he said after another frustrated sigh.

"I don't know what you’re talking—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Jackson grabbed my ass and pushed me back across the bed. He crawled between my legs and pushed himself into me. I gasped, and he pounded into me strong and steady. I felt the muscles in his thighs tense and he held my gaze until his whole body shook and he collapsed. I ran my fingers down his side and placed small kisses on his neck and shoulders. He attempted to sit up, but I pulled him back down. I wanted him to stay close to me and never let me go. 

I felt so lucky to have Jackson in my life, and I hoped he felt the same way, too.

The space I'm in is pitch black, and I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed. I try to sit up, but huge hands are pushing me back down. I try to speak, but no sound comes out. My legs are free, but then pinned to the ground and pain is radiating from my center out through arms and legs, my fingers and my toes. I scream this time, but I sound weak. The panic in my voice scares me even more. I manage to move one hand, and I end up clasping onto someone else. I run my hand up their arm and try to determine who it is, but I can't. I don't know if they are friend or enemy. I err on the side of caution and push them away. It makes them tighten their grip. They are not friends. I scream, push hard, and
thud.

"Carrington, wake up," Jackson yelled. "Carrington."

I reached back and rub my side as I pry my eyes open and look up to see Jackson on the bed reaching for me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You were having a nightmare and you pushed away from me and fell off the bed." He jumped off the bed and kneeled down. "Are you okay?"

My breathing returned to normal, and I laughed out loud.

"I can't believe I fell off the bed." My hip throbbed. "I think I'll be okay."

"I'm not talking about your hip. You were freaking out, and when I grabbed your hand, you pushed me away."

"Jackson, I was dreaming."

"That was more than a dream. You might have had another one of those episodes, like the night at the party."

"Jackson, calm down."

His eyes were big and wet, and his shoulder tensed when I touched his face.

"Carrington, that was freakin’ scary. You were screaming."

"It’s okay. I've had this dream before." He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. His face softened as he pulled me into his arms and held me.

"What happens in the dream?" He ran his fingers in my hair, and I relaxed and told him about the dream.

"The same thing happens every time. Something or someone is holding me down, and I keep trying to get free, but they keep holding me down. I get a leg free, but then they pull it down, or I get a hand free and then they grab it again."

"Oh, baby."

"My therapist says it means I feel like I'm trapped, but I never liked that explanation. It sounds way too simple."

"You feel like I'm trapping you."

I sat up.

"Jackson, no. Of course not. I want you as much as you want me. It’s probably my psyche playing tricks on me. For the first time in a long time, here in your arms, I feel the safest I've ever felt." 

#

J
ackson dropped me off for class before heading to the stadium. The team had a walk through before getting on a plane to Huntsville. They had a pivot game again Alabama. If they won this game and the next against their biggest rival Florida University, the Seminoles will be a shoo-in for the national championship tournament.

I didn't get much sleep after my nightmare. With the way Jackson tossed and turned all night, neither did he. I had one class on Fridays, and as soon as it was over, I headed home.

Jack was at the kitchen table eating Cheerios and singing, but he stopped and pushed himself up out of the high chair and reached for me. Cheerios spilled everywhere. I didn't care. I was so excited to see my baby.

"Mommy," Jack squealed.

"Hey, sweetie. Hold on." I unbuckled him from the chair, and he clung to me. "Oh, hey Jacky. Did you miss me?"

"Jeez, you'd think I had him tied up all night," Kayla complained.

"He loves his mommy," I said and laughed as Jack wrapped his arms around me tighter.

"Jack, show Mommy what you made last night?"

As quick as he was up, he was down and ran into his room.

I hugged Kayla. "Thanks so much for staying with him all night. I owe you."

"No problem. We had fun until he passed out on me around eight o'clock. Then I got some studying done."

"Well, good."

"Enough about me. How was your night?" She elbowed me and giggled.

"It was good." Jack came running into the kitchen holding a piece of paper up in the air.

"Mommy, look."

I took the picture. It was a decent sketch of a man in a football uniform, a brown skin girl with wavy brown hair and a little boy with blond hair with brown highlights. Kayla drew it, but Jack added his own to the painting with garnet and gold paint splotches.

"Who is that?" I point to the girl.

"Momma," Jack said and laughed so hard his body shook.

"And this?"

"Jackson."

"Oh, I see." But then I looked down at Jack. "Did you say Jackson?"

"Jackson," he said, but sang it and laughed.

"We worked on it all night," Kayla said.

No more Jaja. I felt kind of sad.

My baby boy was growing up.

#

J
ackson Latre Mitchell

As soon as I walked into the room, Richard and Jeff stopped what they were doing at their lockers and stared. I headed straight to my locker and packed my travel bag. I whistled as I changed my shoes and checked my reflection in the mirror before turning around to find them staring at me.  

"What?"

"What happened?" Jeff asked.

"What do you mean," I said, not even trying to prevent the grin from spreading across my face.

"It's got to be Carrington," Richard said.

"Dude, you and Carrington. It's official?” Jeff asked.

I didn't say a word. I just smiled and bobbed my head to the beat coming from a speaker in someone's locker. It had a great beat and matched my mood. I needed to ask Jeff who it was, but I refrained from engaging them, yet. Let them guess about the true nature of my good mood.

"What happened? Last I heard, you broke up with Tiffany and then you and Carrington were just friends. What changed?" Richard asked.

I turned to him. He wasn't so much asking the question as he was hoping it was the answer. We never spoke about him asking Carrington out. Maybe he did it to prove a point. Maybe he liked her. I made an effort not to let it affect our relationship on the field, but off the field, I had been pissed at him since it happened.

Back when Carrington was dating Josh, I wanted her, but I wouldn't have done a thing about it. I spouted guy code and told her we couldn't be together out of loyalty for Josh, but that was bullshit. The real reason I didn't pursue her was because of guilt. Guilt that Josh had such a hard time and my life had been charmed, guilt over being a good student when he barely made passing grades and guilty because I had athletic talent, drive, ambition, and Josh seemed to enjoy his role as a Griffin screw-up.

I felt guilty for thinking my best friend in the whole wide world didn't deserve someone as amazing and beautiful as Carrington because I knew he was going to screw it up.  I felt guilty because even though I knew it was coming, I did nothing to stop it or prevent it. Whether it was the drugs or his temper, one way or another, I knew Josh was going to kill himself eventually. I sat back and not only let him do it—I let him hurt Carrington in the process. After witnessing her nightmare, she might never be the same, ever, and I could have done something about it.

I shook my head, and my shoulders relaxed. I stopped being mad at Richard. He did nothing wrong but ask a beautiful girl out.

I must be in a good mood.

I palmed a football sitting on the floor by my locker. I spun it in my palm, tossing it in Richard's general direction. His big hands and quick reflexes snatched it out of the air. I nodded and he smiled. I turned to the rest of the locker room.

Someone turned up the tunes and I felt good. Everything was coming together.

"Big game tomorrow, guys. Let's get to work."

After the walk through, we headed to the airport and boarded the charter plane to Alabama. It was a quick flight, and the whole way there, the guys pestered me to tell them what happened with Carrington. I was vague but gave them enough to satisfy their curiosity.

When we boarded the buses to the hotel, Jeff sat across the aisle from me and leaned over.

"So, I want you to know that when you’re out of here next semester, I promise to keep an eye out for your girl. Make sure no creepy dudes are hanging around her."

"No one's creepier than you, Jeff," Richard said from the next seat up.

"Carrington can take care of herself," I said. I sat back. It was difficult leaving her this morning; how was I going to say goodbye in January. We could see each other often up until the draft, but after the draft, my new team would determine my free time. I was excited about it, but not having Carrington there added a new wrinkle that I hadn't thought about.

Few things scared me about being in the NFL. My father played for two different teams until I turned eight and we moved to Orlando. I saw every game and saw what he did to prepare himself to play at a high level. My dad was a quarterback. He won a few playoff games but never went to a Super Bowl. His dedication to the game and to his teammates was admirable.

What was more admirable was I never missed my dad or thought his job took him away from us. He was the perfect example of a father. He made it work. I would make it work, too, no matter what.

When I arrived at the hotel and before team meetings, I called Carrington.

"Hey, Baby."