We snuggled on the couch and watched mindless television until it was time to get ready for Nathan's art show.
"What are you wearing?" I asked Jackson as I wrapped a towel around me and stepped out of the shower. Jackson was shaving at the sink and I marveled at how at ease we were with each other already.
"It's pretty casual, so just jeans. It's in a little gallery that's really low key."
I saw Jackson watching me in the mirror as I brushed the tangles out of my wet hair.
"What?" I asked as I paused midway of a brush stroke.
Jackson turned around and pulled me close. I could feel the heat of his body through my towel and I shivered.
"I'm just happy," Jackson answered simply. "You make me happy."
"You make me happy too," I said, reaching up on my toes to kiss him. Jackson immediately increased the pressure of the kiss, slanting his warm mouth over mine and slipping his tongue into my mouth.
We broke apart breathless and Jackson got a mischievous look on his face. "Let me help you with that towel," he said as he reached to unwrap it from me.
"Jackson!" I admonished with a laugh, pulling away and clutching the towel closer to me. "We're going to be late. There's plenty of time for that later."
Jackson sighed but he acquiesced with a small smile. "It's your fault for being so irresistible. I guess I'll just have to ravish you tonight."
"Speaking of tonight, I think I should stay at my place."
Jackson furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to protest, but I continued before he could speak.
"It's not that I don't want to spend the night, but I have to work tomorrow and it'll be easier for me if I stay at my place. Besides, I feel kind of bad spending so much time here. Claire and I are still getting to know each other and I don't want her to feel like I'm always gone."
"I'm sure she's fine with you staying here," Jackson contested with a frown. "And I promise not to make you late for work tomorrow."
I raised an eyebrow. "I've heard that promise before. Besides, I'm worried about making myself late. It feels too good being in bed with you. The last thing I want to do when I wake up in the morning with you next to me is leave."
Jackson sighed but he nodded his head. "Okay, but when are you going to stay over again?"
"How about Wednesday? I'll come to the gym for a workout and then stay the night."
"I'll just have to look forward to Wednesday then," Jackson said with a suggestive smile. He reached down and slipped his hand under my towel, gently stroking my sensitive bud between my legs. "I'll have to warn you that I'll be all pent up from not burying myself in this sweetness for two whole days. I'm likely to ravage you at the gym on the floor of my office."
My lower body instantly clenched as I felt wetness pool at my core from his light touch. I held my breath as Jackson slipped two fingers inside of me. I watched transfixed as he brought them, glistening with my wetness, to his lips, licking them as his eyes pierced through me.
"Now you're trying to kill me," I croaked, echoing his words from yesterday.
Jackson grinned, smacking me lightly on my bare bottom. "Now I'm not the only one in a state of frustration."
I wrinkled my nose and flounced out of the bathroom, but I couldn't suppress my laughter. Jackson Reynard had me tied up in knots and I loved it.
I dressed in tight dark jeans that were like a second skin and a black form-fitting top with a deep vee, my cleavage in full display. It was provocative, but didn't cross the line to slutty. I wanted Jackson to want me tonight as much as I wanted him, especially after the trick he had pulled in the bathroom.
I completed the look with fire engine red heels just as Jackson was coming out of the bathroom. His eyes gleamed when he caught sight of me, his gaze trailing down my body and then up again.
"You're trying to play dirty," he said with a glint in his eye, striding closer to me. He pulled me forward by the belt loops of my jeans, pressing me against him so that I could clearly feel his erection. "I may have to just corner you in the bathroom of the gallery and bend you over a sink so I can fuck your brains out."
My lower body convulsed at his words but I just smiled innocently. "Whatever do you mean?"
Jackson narrowed his eyes. "You're trying to drive me crazy with that outfit." He then grinned self-deprecatingly. "It's working."
"Good," I said with a wicked smile and pulled away, going to the bathroom to dry my hair and put on makeup.
When we were done getting ready, we grabbed a cab to my apartment since it was raining and I had my overnight bag with me. When I unlocked the door to my apartment, Claire was sitting on the couch watching television. She jumped up when she saw us entering.
"Is it as gross out there as it looks?" she asked as Jackson shook the umbrella in the hallway to get some of the water off.
"Worse," I replied with a grimace. "I'm just hoping that we're able to get a cab to the gallery. The cab we took over here wouldn't wait for us."
"Hi, Claire," Jackson said. He turned to me as he picked up my overnight bag. "I'll just put this in your room. Which door is your bedroom?"
I pointed to my bedroom door, not being able to deny that I was relieved that Jackson hadn't spent enough time in the apartment to know which was Claire's bedroom. I decided to lay any doubts I had to rest. Both Claire and Jackson had reassured me that nothing had happened between them all those years ago and there was no need for me to be jealous.
"You look great," I told Claire. She was wearing jeans that made her legs seem a million miles long and an emerald green, sleeveless top that showed off her toned arms.
"Thanks, you too," she replied with an appreciative glance at my outfit. She gave me a meaningful look at my open bedroom door where Jackson was. "I told you curvy was in."
I just laughed and went into my bedroom to see what was taking Jackson so long. He was leaning over my dresser, studying the pictures I had placed on top of it. He turned around and smiled when he heard me enter.
"I was just looking at your pictures. I'm assuming these are your parents."
I walked over next to him and he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I rested my head against his shoulder and nodded. I had three pictures on display. One was of my parents before they had me, looking young and carefree. My father was laughing into the camera and my mother was looking up at him adoringly. Another picture was of the three of us, me as a toddler in my father's arms as my mother leaned up against him, looking content and happy. The third picture was of just my father and me. I must have been in about first grade and I was on my father's shoulders with a huge smile stretched across my face. I remembered that picture being taken. I had been so proud that I had such a strong father who could carry me so effortlessly. I had been convinced that my father was the strongest person in the world.