Jackson (8 page)

“Can I give you a tip, old boy?” Leo said.

“Hm?”

“We’ll have a little downtime as we figure out what our next step should be. Enjoy it while you can.” Leo threw his thumb toward the other end of the boat, where Charlie had propped herself up on her elbows to gaze out at the approaching coastline.

Instantly, all thoughts of their possible pursuers fell right out of his head.
You’re in trouble
, he told himself as he watched that gorgeous hair fly around her face. Once, he’d thought he could forget about her. That his cock could learn to have other tastes. He was wrong.

“I intend to,” he heard himself tell Leo. No, this time he wouldn’t let her slip away. He didn’t think his body would give him any other choice.

He didn’t realize how utterly fucked he was until, sometime later, they were anchored in a quiet little cove on the coast of the island of Vis. They’d let Roth disembark at the main port—at a charming little town which shared its name with the island—before retreating to this bay, where they were a little more hidden. Roth would call them when he and Sloane had made contact, and they’d proceed from there.

In the meantime, Alexei was still studying the atlas down below, while Toshi insisted they should take the opportunity to go swimming.

Normally, Jackson would have shot down such an idea, especially considering the uncertainty of their current expedition, but then he saw Charlie’s face. Her eyes had lit up at Toshi’s words, and he’d found himself instantly more excited about his younger teammate’s suggestion.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked Charlie as Toshi cannonballed off the side of the boat. “Care to join?”

Her cheeks turned pink—though that might have just been evidence of the several hours she’d just spent basking beneath the sun. She looked so fucking delicious that it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms.

She doesn’t belong here
, he told himself again. But once more, it was impossible to completely convince himself that the sun-kissed creature in front of him was born to be anywhere else. His chest ached. Once, she’d spoken so openly with him about her dreams of seeing the world. But she’d always been so careful, so afraid to do anything risky or reckless, that he’d thought those things would always stay dreams. It was partially why he’d agreed to let her come—he was convinced that she’d quickly realize her mistake and run home again, and this time he wouldn’t have to be the bad guy.

But he’d never imagined how she’d come alive in this environment, like a late blossom finally unfurling and revealing its breathtaking colors to the sky. And just when he’d thought he couldn’t want her any more than he already did, he realized he was wrong.

“I don’t have a suit,” she told him, and he remembered he’d asked her a question.

“Neither do I,” he said, his voice a touch lower and rougher than he intended. He wanted to peel that silly over-sized dress off of her so the sun could caress her beautiful body from head to toe. He wanted to pull her naked body against his and remind her of everything they still had left between them.

But he wouldn’t push it. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“I’m going to swim in my boxers,” he told her. “I’m assuming you have something under that dress you could wear as well.”

Her blush deepened, and for a moment he feared he’d been too forward, but then she smiled.

“I guess I might never have the chance to swim in the Adriatic again,” she said. “There’s no point in wasting it.”

And before his eyes, she reached down and pulled her dress off over her head.

Her body was even more beautiful than he remembered—perfectly imperfect, a collection of soft curves unlike anything he’d seen before or since. She was wearing a white bra and a pair of white panties with tiny pink polka dots. Another man might have hoped for something skimpy and lacy, but all he could think about was how innocently erotic her underwear would look once it was wet. Hot need pulsed through him, and he glanced around, suddenly remembering they weren’t alone on this boat. He didn’t want anyone else to see her like this—she was his. Those little polka-dotted panties were his. Those sharp little nipples that already poked against the cotton of her bra were his as well. He’d shared a lot of things with his teammates, but he’d never share her.

He stripped down quickly, not even bothering to care that his appreciation for her was probably plain for all to see. As he was kicking his pants aside, she flashed him a grin that set his blood on fire and jumped off the side of the boat into the water below.

But he wasn’t about to let her have all the fun by herself. As soon as her head popped up again, he launched himself in right after her.

Before he even came up for air, he was reaching for her beneath the water. His fingers brushed against her legs, then her waist, before he finally found her arms. As his head emerged again, he heard her laughing, and she easily slipped out of his grip, twisting away from him across the gentle water of the bay. She was a siren, teasing him and drawing him to his own doom.

He went after her, remembering the first time he’d ever seen her. He’d been at a beer festival in Atlanta, and he’d caught sight of her through the crowd—a goddess in a little pink sundress with her hair falling loose around her shoulders. He’d been drawn to her through the sea of people, and he’d followed that hair through the crowds like a man possessed.

He was possessed now. She led him around the side of the boat, away from where Toshi was doing his laps across the mouth of the bay. When he finally caught her, she didn’t attempt to slip out of his grip a second time.

Beneath the water, his hands glided down her sides. Her legs kicked down below, making small circles to keep herself afloat, and every time they brushed against his, he felt a jolt of hot desire move through his system. Her hair floated in the water between them, licking his bare chest and sliding across his shoulders. Wet, it was the color of dark amber.

Her back was to him. He moved his head forward until his mouth was just next to her ear, and he felt a shiver move through her as his breath hit her skin. She might have lingering feelings of anger or bitterness toward him after the way he’d left her—and rightfully so, even he had to admit—but her body seemed as drawn to his as his was to hers.

“Do you remember our first date?” he murmured to her.

Another shiver. He felt this one through the pads of his fingers against her skin.

“Of course I remember,” she said. And then, “I remember a lot of things.”

He could hear the longing in her voice—but he could hear the hesitation, too. This was a bad idea. They both knew it. He’d known he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, and he’d forced himself to make that choice nine months ago. But now that she was in front of him again, he had no idea how he’d ever possessed that much self-control.

“You were so nervous,” he said, recalling the shy, bright-eyed girl he’d met for dinner that night. “And you kept telling me over and over again that you never dated guys like me.”

“I didn’t,” she insisted. “And I was completely freaking out.”

“And it was utterly charming,” he continued. He turned his face so that his nose brushed against her hair. “I’ve never been with anyone like you, either. Before or after.”

He felt her body stiffen at the word
after
, but she didn’t say anything. And she didn’t try to move away.

He guessed what she might be remembering now: how, after that delightfully awkward first meal, he hadn’t had nearly enough of her and invited her for a walk. How, as the last rays of the day were disappearing behind the trees, she’d let him kiss her. He’d kissed plenty of women in his time, but nothing had ever stunned him quite like that first kiss with Charlie. One touch of her lips and he’d known that he’d never taste anything like her ever again. It was a rush unlike anything he’d ever experienced—and at that point, he’d already done more wild, reckless things than most people did in their lifetime.

But she must have felt it, too, because she’d invited him back to her place—all the while anxiously pointing out that she’d never done anything like that before. He’d believed her. The truth was written in every glance, in every touch, in every kiss. She was sweetness and fire; innocence and hunger. One moment nervous, the next devouring him with a passion that drew him right to the edge. They’d made love well into the night—and he’d always considered it
making love
with her, when normally he thought of it as
fucking
—and he’d spent hours exploring her body, experiencing every inch of her with his eyes and fingers and mouth until he could have sworn he’d branded every part of her in his memory forever. He’d never wanted anyone like that before.

He still wanted her like that
now.

He dropped his head slightly, lowering his mouth to her shoulder. She gave a little gasp when his lips brushed her wet skin, and that sound was like a trigger. He pulled her back fully against him, letting his mouth come down on her shoulder a second time. Letting it linger.

She arched back against him. He let his hands slide forward across her belly, tracing the path they’d followed on that very first night—and many, many times since. It was like coming home, like finding part of himself again.

He’d buried this need for too long, pushed it way down inside of him where he thought he could forget it and move on with his life. But now that she was here in his arms, he couldn’t deny it any longer. There’d been a dull, hollow ache inside of him without her, and now there was a bright, blazing flame of yearning.

He knew there were things they still needed to talk about. He was a different man than the one who’d left her, and it was clearer every second that she was a different woman. But right now, all he could think about was experiencing her fully again. His fingers moved up and down her body—one hand to her hip, her thigh, her ass; one up across her stomach, her breasts, her throat. He needed to confirm those memories he’d once created, convince himself that the woman who’d haunted his fantasies all these months wasn’t just a dream, that she was actually in his arms again. He was quick to discover that his fingers hadn’t forgotten an inch of her, and with that confirmation came a rush of other things.

“I need you,” he murmured against her skin. “God, you don’t know how much I need you.”

Somewhere on the other side of the boat, he could hear the faint sounds of Toshi doing his laps. Overhead, a pair of seagulls cried as they circled the vessel, waiting for the chance to grab some crumbs. But he was aware of nothing the way he was aware of Charlie. She was trembling slightly, and he wanted to hold her closer, but their legs were already tangling with each other down below. Any closer and they’d probably go under.

And what a sweet, glorious death that would be.

He wanted to show her exactly what she was doing to him—and he wanted her to experience the same. His fingers dropped lower, sliding down her belly to her soaked panties, pressing against the cotton until she gave a gasp of pleasure.

Encouraged, he continued to touch her, letting his hand slip between her legs and then back again, stroking her in exactly the way he’d once discovered she liked to be stroked. The effect was just the same. She writhed against him, letting out soft, delicate whimpers in time with the movements of his fingers. Her head fell back against his shoulder, her body molding more completely against his, and her hair wrapped around his arms and neck. His lips attacked her everywhere he could reach. His teeth nipped at the delicate skin at the side of her throat.

He’d never get enough of her. He was a madman, driven by pent up lust, his mind already working out how they might be able to join out here in open water. He wanted to make love to her. To come together with her in a perfect storm of hunger and need and helpless surrender.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he rasped into her ear. “I never stopped wanting this. Never.”

She went rigid in his arms. At first he thought he’d found the perfect spot, that she was about to come, but then she jerked away from him.

He tried to grab her, to pull her back into his arms, but she evaded him. Finally, she spun around to face him in the water, and her chest heaved as her arms worked to keep her afloat. Her eyes were hard.

“You’re not allowed to say that you never stopped wanting me.
You
left
me
,” she said, and the pain was as thick as the anger in her voice.

His whole body ached, and not just in response to his unresolved desire. “I know,” he said. “I know. And I’m sorry, Goose.” Any other time, he would have been ashamed by how raw his voice sounded, but between his raging cock and the emotions that had suddenly boiled up in him, he was surprised he could speak at all.

He reached for her through the water—slowly, though he was not sure where he found the restraint.

“Charlie,” he said gently, and he saw her eyes soften slightly in response.

But then she shook her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” Her voice broke on the final word. “Please, Jackson.”

He was going to argue. Going to point out that there was no “doing” or “not doing”
this
, and they were both stupid to have ever pretended anything different.