This Crazy Love: Swoon Series Page 9

  “Shay,” he said, his tone laced with warning.

  “What? So what if I had some shitty stuff happen? I’m fine.”

  My hips rocked on their own, and I suddenly realized the triggering fear that had struck me was already passing. Perhaps because I was the one on top and felt in control. I also had no fear of Jackson.

  He simply stared at me, his grip still tight on my hips. Although I couldn’t tell precisely what he was thinking, it was clear he didn’t know what the hell to do.

  He closed his eyes, leaning his head back into the pillows, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. That had the unintended side effect of a ripple of motion in his hips, his cock moving slightly. It felt good, so good. I was suddenly almost giddy. Whatever shifted had pushed me through to the other side of the twinge of fear.

  This was Jackson. I knew he would never hurt me, not like Clint. I also knew that once I was lost in sensation with him, the pleasure would take over.

  He opened his eyes. “Look, Shay, this was already a crazy decision for both of us. I’m not gonna lie and try to pretend I don’t want you. But, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to let this keep going.”

  “I do.” I nudged him lightly with my palm on his chest. “It’s just sex. You’d be doing me a favor. I’m not tense now, I swear. See,” I said for emphasis, rocking my hips slightly, my pussy sliding over the underside of his cock.

  His breath came out in a hiss. He closed his eyes again, his entire body tightening as he gripped my hips to hold me still.

  “I’d be doing you a favor?” he muttered, as he dragged his eyes open again.

  “Yes. I don’t have any expectations. Whatever it is, it’s just sex. I don’t want to go through the rest of my life with my last sexual experience being…” I let my words trail off because I didn’t want to say the words again.

  I couldn’t even believe this conversation was happening. But once the truth came out, well, it was out. In a way, I was immensely relieved. At least, I could just lay that ugly part of my past on the table and let it be known.

  I also knew the chemistry burning between Jackson and me was rare, and I wanted to take advantage of it. Because I knew if it wasn’t this hot, my memories would get in the way. I also didn’t know how I could ever trust another man. Jackson came with something like a trust guarantee.

  He was my older brother’s best friend, totally reliable, and a good man. I was at no risk of harm at his hands. Plus, he kissed like a dream and he’d twice now sent me flying into the most intense orgasms of my life.

  With Jackson simply staring at me, I rocked my hips again, letting out a little sigh at the point of contact when my swollen clit rubbed his hard cock.

  He shook his head slowly. “This is crazy.”

  “We’re past crazy.”

  I decided not to wait and rose up slightly, sliding my palm around his cock, feeling a smile curl my lips when it swelled further at my touch. I kept expecting him to try to talk me out of it again, so I moved fast. For a flash, a memory struck when I remembered the last time a man had been inside of me. It dissipated quickly, a distant, detached flicker. Then, I was sinking down around him, the stretch of him filling me.

  Jackson didn’t move, although I could feel his cock pulsing inside of me when I settled myself down. Perhaps it was because it was Jackson and I knew I could trust him, or perhaps it was because the desire was so powerful it took over everything, but I felt no fear. Nothing but pure pleasure and a surge of power from Jackson.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jackson

  Shay sank down slowly, her hair in a tousle around her face, her green eyes bright in the dim light of my bedroom. With her dusky pink nipples right in front of me, it was all I could do not to lean up and suck one right into my mouth again. She settled her hips over mine, a little hum of satisfaction coming from her throat. She was wet and tight and felt like heaven.

  I was stunned, unsure how we got to this point. I knew when she flinched that something was wrong, but I was entirely unprepared for what she told me.

  This was more than crazy. And yet somehow, I couldn’t stop it even when my mind told me I should. My body, of course, was downright insistent. Buried deeply in her slick, pulsing channel, I was near drunk from the sensation of her. I was barely hanging onto my control. Once we passed this point with me inside of her, I was going to let her set the pace.

  Her hand trailed down my chest. Slivers of fire chased in the wake of her touch. She shifted her hips, and I felt the squeeze of her around me. She was relaxed, her eyes on mine. She lifted a hand to cup one of her breasts, teasing the tight bead of her nipple.

  “Fuck, Shay. You make me crazy. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

  She didn’t reply, biting her lip. “Don’t make me do all the work,” she murmured with a slow grin.

  “This is all you, darlin’.” I flexed my hips, savoring her low moan and the clench of her pussy around my cock.

  I would let her set the pace, but I’d be damned if she didn’t come out of this without another climax. I wanted to give her a thousand to make up for whatever the hell else her ex had put her through.

  She settled into a rhythm, rocking slowly. I eased my grip on one of her hips, sliding my palm up her spine as I shifted on the pillows, sitting up halfway. I wanted to feel her against me, and I knew this angle would give her the friction to fly apart.

  She settled in easily, sighing with delight when I arched into her. With her breasts rubbing against my chest, I dusted kisses on her neck, savoring the salty tang of her skin. At this angle, I could feel her tighten quickly. I reached between us, pressing my thumb over her clit and watching as she arched back with a rough cry, her pussy clamping down and milking my release from me. It was an intense, almost painfully sharp climax as it whipped through me.

  I hadn’t meant to call her name, but it came out in a rush with a shuddered groan. She relaxed against me, tucking her head into my neck. She breathed deeply, little tremors running through her body.

  I meant to find a way to untangle myself from Shay. There was only one problem. I didn’t want to.

  This had gone from a bad idea, to a crazy idea, to a complicated mess.

  Somewhere between telling myself I should slide out from under her and somehow shift the tone of this encounter, I fell asleep. Deep in the night, I woke with her warm against me. I’d slid out from inside of her, but she was still there, naked and curled up against my side with one of her legs thrown over mine. Her breath came in soft, steady gusts against my shoulder, and I had my arm wrapped around her back with my palm cupping her sweet ass.

  That would’ve been the point where I knocked some sense into myself. Yet, I had slept more deeply for those last few hours than I had in years. I rolled out from under her carefully, stepping into the bathroom to very belatedly dispose of the condom that must’ve fallen off after I slipped out of her.

  Closing the door, I flicked on the light and splashed water on my face. My hair stuck up in spikes. As I stared at myself, I noticed the lines of tension that usually bracketed my face had dissolved. I didn’t want to think too much. Between the intensity of our encounter and the shattering news she had shared, thinking wasn’t something I wanted to do just now.

  Turning the light off, I returned to the bedroom. Moonlight fell through the tall windows flanking the bed. Shay was cast in a silvery glow. Considering I couldn’t even talk myself into walking downstairs to crash on the couch, I certainly didn’t have the heart to bundle her off the bed and carry her to her bedroom.

  I didn’t seem to have much willpower when it came to her, especially not in those hours of the night that were usually lonely and restless. I found myself carefully easing under the covers and pulling her into my arms again. She shifted against me with a soft sigh, burrowing her head against my neck.

  In spite of everything, in spite of the tangled complications that were bound to ensue, it felt so damn good to hold her in my arms. It felt good and right.

  The following day, the morning at the farmhouse was cloaked in a strange sense of comfort. I had expected to be out of sorts, but I had slept so incredibly well, I felt rested in a way I hadn’t been in too damn long. Shay, well, she was easy to be around. I woke to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom off the side of my bedroom. I kicked the covers off, intending to climb in there with her, only to hear the water turn off before my feet even hit the floor.

  As I sat halfway up against the pillows, debating what to do, she came out, rubbing her hair with a towel and wrapped in a white, fluffy robe. She looked over at me, and for a moment, the air felt electrified when our eyes collided. Then, she smiled.

  “Morning. I already started coffee. I hope you don’t mind I used the shower,” she said, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder. “You neglected to mention the hot water pressure is much better in here.”

  “I didn’t know. I don’t use the other shower.”

  With a last rub of the towel in her hair, she let her arm fall, looping the towel over her forearm. “Well, take my word for it. It’s better.”

  Then, she turned and walked out of my bedroom. Meanwhile, if my cock could have spoken, it would have shouted for her to return posthaste.

  Fuck. There was stupid, and there was what happened last night. I knew my attraction to Shay danced along the edge of dangerous. Yet, I hadn’t counted on the way it would feel to be with her.

  I listened as she returned to her bedroom, and moments later, the sound of her footsteps moving down the hallway and the stairs. I stood and strolled into the shower. I couldn’t take it and found myself forced to take matters into my own hands, or show up downstairs, rock hard and ready.

  As promised, coffee was ready whe
n I made it downstairs. Shay looked up from the counter where she was whisking eggs in a bowl. “I thought I’d make scrambled eggs. Is that okay?”

  Even when Ash was here, she didn’t cook. That was a joke about my sister. She hated cooking. I had declared many times she would need to find a man who could feed her. Being used to fending for myself, it was unaccountably nice to have Shay offering to make breakfast.

  “Of course it’s okay.” I stepped to the counter and poured a cup of coffee. I took a sip, savoring the rich, dark flavor. “You make damn good coffee,” I said, turning and resting my hips against the counter.

  She glanced over with a smile. “I love coffee, so it better be good.”

  Beyond the visceral memories bombarding me of what it felt like to have her naked in my arms and the way she looked as she arched back in the throes of pleasure, one memory kept striking hard. I didn’t know what the hell to do with what she told me last night. I was floundering in a way I never had before.

  I considered myself a straightforward man, preferring to tackle difficult subjects directly. After I got back from the war, my therapist had even commented on my tendency to walk straight up to the most painful topics first—metaphorically speaking, of course.

  For the first time in a long time, I found myself struggling with how to approach the topic. Shay saved me the trouble.

  She cast a careful glance my way. “I can practically feel you worrying over there. I’m sure you’re freaking out about what I told you last night. Please don’t. I’m just a statistic. It’s certainly nothing to obsess over.”

  Despite her words, I could see the tension in her shoulders and practically feel her body vibrating from a few feet away. I moved on instinct, not really thinking. Setting my coffee down, I pushed away from the counter and walked up behind her. I slid a hand down her shoulder and stepped close behind her, resting my chin in the crook of her neck. With one hand on her hip, I curled the other around her waist and pulled her flush against me. “You’re not a statistic, Shay. Not to me. Not to anyone who cares about you.”

  I wasn’t sure what she expected, but I didn’t think that was it. Her breath drew in sharply, and I felt a fine tremor running through her. I knew she was crying.

  Sweet Jesus. There were a lot of things I knew how to deal with, but Shay crying over her ex raping her wasn’t one of them.

  “Oh shit, don’t cry,” I heard myself saying, my voice gruffer than I intended.

  She took a deep breath, letting it out with a ragged sigh as she stirred the scrambled eggs. “Okay, I need you to maybe not do that,” she said softly.

  “Not do what?” I asked, as my palm rubbed in a slow circle on her hip.

  “Hold me like that, and be all nice,” she mumbled.

  I sensed her spark returning. It felt as if she were calling upon it purposefully. Yet, I didn’t know the right thing to do.

  “Maybe I want to,” I finally said.

  Hell if I knew why, but that got a chuckle from her. With a last stir of the eggs, she adjusted the heat to low and turned in my arms.

  I had no fucking map for how to make sense of this. It was bad enough that I just had the best sex of my life with my best friend’s little sister. Even worse, I knew it could be nothing more than that because I was no candidate for a relationship. I had too much baggage. Throw in what had happened to Shay, and I had absolutely no clue what to do. All I knew was last night I felt like we were in it too deeply for me to think. When she yanked the reins out of my hands, I had lost all control of the situation at that point.

  I preferred to chalk it up to out-of-control lust at that point, but I knew there was more than that between us. And therein lies the problem.

  Shay lifted a hand, smoothing the damp hair along my hairline. “Let me make you breakfast and let’s try to be normal this morning,” she said, shimmying out from between the stove and me. I resisted the urge to reach for her and pull her back into my arms.

  Clinging to what little sanity I had, I turned and picked up my coffee. I got two plates out of the cabinet, and within a few minutes, we were seated at the table across from each other. The eggs were delicious, of course. We ate quietly, and blessedly, it wasn’t awkward or tense.

  After we finished eating, I pushed my plate away and looked over at her. On the heels of a fortifying sip of coffee, I asked, “Does Remy know?”

  A subtle thread of tension snapped through the air. Shay set her fork down and took a measured swallow of coffee before answering. “No. Obviously he knows some, but not all of it. Clint was convicted of aggravated assault. I didn’t tell anyone he raped me.”

  Anger spun tight inside, a sense of raw fury slicing through me. It wasn’t that I hadn’t known the outlines of what happened. Hell, it was splashed all over the news. Son of a wealthy politician and all that. It was ugly. North Carolina wasn’t that small of a state, population-wise, but word traveled for high-profile stories, and that one had all the grabby headlines. Assault. Speculation about whether he actually did it, despite the fact there were witnesses, photographs, and distant video from someone’s phone. A DUI crash a few weeks later, and then more stories. I didn’t even want to know what else was missing from the news.

  I was used to keeping my emotions in check. Hell, I had a few years of solid practice with it. But this? This tore me up inside. I wanted to track the guy down and wipe him off the face of the earth.

  “It’s a damn good thing he’s in prison. If I could get my hands on him, I’d fucking kill him,” I said flatly.

  Shay’s skin blanched, but her expression stayed controlled. “He’s not worth it. I don’t need anybody fighting a battle for me, only to get themselves in trouble. He got a fifteen-year sentence because of the DUI, so he won’t be anywhere near me for a long time.”

  My fury didn’t abate, yet I knew that wasn’t what she needed to see.

  “It’s not your battle to fight, Jackson,” she added.

  “Fuck, Shay. This isn’t about whose battle it is. He raped you. And God knows what else happened before it got to that point.”

  I saw Shay’s hand tighten around the handle of her mug, and took a steadying breath, reminding myself she didn’t need to see my fury. “I’m sorry,” I finally said, letting my breath out slowly. “I’m just upset about the situation. Why didn’t you tell the police he raped you?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and her throat worked as she swallowed. “Because who was going to believe me? We were together. The only reason the assault charges stuck was because there were witnesses. The neighbor next door saw him go after me outside in the parking lot, and then a few others who were there. They didn’t see anything else. That’s why I was running out of our condo anyway.”

  Her words were low and filled with pain. I felt like I was stumbling through a foreign, barren landscape right now. The last few years of my life had been circumscribed by the choices I made. I’d returned home to take over the farm and the projects my father had started before he passed away, every action geared toward finding peace and living in a way where I could keep everything tidy and neat. I wasn’t so bad off that I shut the whole world out. But I kept it to friends because those relationships were less complicated, with less potential for emotional landmines and expectations.

  This raw lust I felt for Shay rocked me with its intensity. I had thought I could contain it to physical desire only. Last night had proven me wrong on that count, quite spectacularly. And now this, wrapping my brain around the enormity of what actually happened to Shay.

  I didn’t know why the hell I started this conversation this morning. This urge to comfort her, to protect her, to erase everything that happened to her didn’t make sense. Yet, it was so powerful I couldn’t ignore it. If Remy knew what happened last night, he would probably gut me alive.

  Through the cacophony inside my mind, I took another deep breath and a sip of coffee and nodded. “Okay. I don’t really get it, but it’s your call.”

  She shrugged. “There’s no point to it now. He’s in jail. Trying to bring up this part of it would only drag me through the mud again. We don’t have to talk about it. Trust me, I’ve talked about it plenty in therapy. Now you know the whole truth.”