I shrug out of my bra, freeing my suddenly aching, full breasts and do my best to ignore the sweet sensation of the soft towel on my tight nipples as I dry them.
“Arms up,” Jackson orders, the hint of a smile tugging at his perfect lips.
Hmm…so much for behaving.
I obey regardless, lifting my arms above my head and sending the towel tumbling to my feet, baring me to him.
To his credit, he tries to ignore the breasts that are pressed pretty much against him as he pulls the t-shirt over my head and tugs it down into place, concealing my breasts once more.
“It gets worse,” he murmurs dangerously.
As I straighten the t-shirt, he bends down in front of me and peels my off my wet, lacy thong, dragging the material tantalizingly down the backs of my thighs to my calves and ankles.
“Step,” he demands.
I lift one foot at a time, hyper-aware that his face is distractingly close to there. I try in vain to hold off the onslaught of erotic images fighting to take over my mind.
“Step again.”
“Yes, sir,” I tease as he pulls a pair of boxers up my legs and over my butt, making me decent once again.
“Sit,” he gestures to the bed.
“You are a very bossy man,” I murmur sleepily.
“Simple commands are easier to understand when you’ve been drugged,” he shrugs nonchalantly and begins examining the small cuts and developing bruises scattered across my body.
“You drug a lot of women?” I’m too tired to put any real effort into the accusation.
“No, Emilia, I don’t. Do you think I need Rohypnol to get laid? Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess, but plenty of women want to fuck me, including you.” I don’t like his stern and somewhat arrogant tone, so find myself looking anywhere but at him.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
“You said it,” I mutter.
“I would never roofie anyone, Emilia,” he says more calmly this time. “Some of the guys use it, but only when their lady of choice requests it. Shaun is an asshole and shouldn’t have done that to you. I promise he won’t get off lightly.”
“Pretty sure you already smashed up his face.”
“He deserves worse,” Jackson mutters darkly and I don’t doubt Shaun will pay for what he’s done.
“Why would a woman who’s willing to sleep with a guy request Rohypnol?”
From the look on Jackson’s face, I can see this has tripped him up and he fumbles to articulate an answer.
“It helps them relax and to forget…sometimes it just makes the first time easier for them.”
“I wouldn’t want to be out cold if I were losing my virginity.”
“We’re not talking about their first sexual experience Emilia,” he says as if this explains everything and closes the conversation.
“Then what are we talking about? What first time experience would make a girl ask to be drugged?”
“I can’t explain this to you now. You’re in no fit state to hear what I have to say and despite your annoying questions, I still want you…badly. I’ve just seen you naked, that t-shirt clings to your breasts in a way that is wholly indecent and I am fighting to stay in control of myself around you. Don’t make it harder for me by questioning me into a corner. I will answer your questions, but only when you are rational enough to deal with the answers.” He’s leaning over me by this point and I am struck silent by his blatant admission of desire for me.
Jackson picks up my towel and starts to rub my hair as dry as he can get it before grabbing a comb to get out the worst of the knots.
“You have a fair few bruises and lots of little cuts, but nothing serious. I would offer you some ice for the bruises but they’ve come up purple already, so I don’t think there’s much point. Would you like me to get you anything else? A drink? Something to eat?”
“I’m just tired, thank you, Jackson.”
Jackson pulls the quilt back so that I can climb into bed.
“I’m not as tired as you, Emilia,” he says, his voice deep and husky, “so I’m going to stay up and work on our paper.”
I nod as he climbs into bed next to me but stays sitting, opening his laptop and balancing it on his muscular thighs. He strokes some hair out of my face and lowers himself so that he can brush his warm lips across mine.
“Get some sleep, Emilia.”
Chapter Five
I’m woken by a gentle knock on the door and Jackson climbing out of bed to answer it. I’m not sure what time it is, but I can still hear music playing downstairs, so the party isn’t over yet.
Jackson opens the door, wearing only his tight black boxer briefs…much to Sonya’s delight.
“Now that’s how you greet a girl,” she coos.
“I’m busy, Sonya, what do you want?” she flinches at his impatience.
“I’m sorry; did I get you out of bed?”
“Yes,” he replies flatly.
“Then, how about we go back to bed?” Her suggestive tone pisses me off, so I shut my eyes and hope she’ll go away soon.
“My bed is occupied, so if that’s all you want then goodnight.” He moves to close the door, but she stops him.
“I think I left my bra here when we were so rudely interrupted,” she whines. “That must be it on the back of the chair.”
“Don’t play dumb. You deliberately didn’t put it back on so that you could have an excuse to come by later in the hope of round two.”
“You can’t blame me for that, not when you were fucking me as if your life depended on it. I was under the impression that I was staying the night with you. Then that little slut spoils our fun and suddenly she has my place in your bed. Seriously?! What the hell, Jackson?”
Jackson’s voice takes on a sinister edge and I’m glad it’s not me going toe-to-toe with him.
“Firstly, you and I are not a couple. We fuck, occasionally…and it’s a fun enough way to waste some time, but make no mistake, what you have to offer is replaceable. I don’t give a shit about your feelings, only about what you provide, just the same as you want to be fucked by someone skilled enough to give you multiple orgasms. That’s our agreement.
“Secondly, if you ever call her a slut again, I will make you regret the day you ever met me…and you know enough about me to realize what that implies. And thirdly, that’s not your bra. I left yours downstairs when I ran out of the house earlier,” he hisses dangerously.
To her credit, Sonya tries to stand her ground against Jackson’s vicious tirade.
“If that’s her bra then perhaps you want to reconsider your second point regarding the word ‘slut’, she spits.”
This is the point I lose my temper completely.
“I don’t do sloppy seconds, bitch,” I shout. “Now, fuck off.”
Sonya wasn’t expecting me to defend myself and I feel a small amount of satisfaction from her surprised expression.
“You heard the lady. Night, Sonya.” Jackson’s face is smug as he closes the door a little too firmly in her face.
“You are full of surprises, Angel,” he purrs.