“Wow. That’s, um…” I trail off, not sure what to say.
“It’s not so bad, college can be fun,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eyes and another flex of his hips.
How is he still hard?
“Unless you want Wilhelmina beating down the door, I wouldn’t distract me,” I say, but my heart isn’t in it. “Were you in town on business?” I ask, not wanting our time to be over but thinking I should move the conversation to safer, non-sexual territory... although, that’s easier said than done with Jackson Smoak’s impressive cock still inside me.
“I had to attend a meeting and decided to stay for the weekend.”
“Well, I’m very glad you did.”
“You and me both,” he says, sealing his lips to mine and treating me to one last delicious thrust before withdrawing.
My muscles clench in protest, trying futilely to lock him in place inside me, but soon enough I’m empty, strangely void and hollow. Jackson is the biggest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of being with; he claims me, stretches me and fills me, and afterward, I feel the mark he’s left on my body and my heart. He creates an absence within me shaped specifically to him…and I would really like him to fill it again. Now.
“I’m not ashamed to say that I hate it when you withdraw.”
“I’m not ashamed to admit that I’d spend all day inside you if I could get away with it,” he winks.
Being done by Jackson all day is a thought I can get on board with, especially when he’s still naked and I have a serious itch that only he can scratch.
My dirty thoughts play across my face as Jackson has to remind me that I’m supposed to be dressing to see Sophia.
We dress – far too quickly for my liking – and I insist on wearing his sweater, which now smells like him again since it got mashed between our bodies at some point during our frenzy.
Walking out of my room hand in hand, my heart sinks when we reach the top of the stairs and I see that Matron Price has called Tristan.
My former friend stands in the entryway in a sleep crumpled t-shirt and sweatpants, wearing a grim expression.
Jackson’s spine stiffens and annoyance flashes in his eyes, but somehow, he contains his anger…I do not.
“What the hell are you playing at Wilhelmina? How dare you interfere in my life like this? If I decide to have a relationship, sexual or otherwise, that’s my prerogative and none of your damn business. It certainly doesn’t justify you calling my fucking bodyguard!” I shout.
“Don’t talk to the Matron that way, Emilia,” warns Tristan.
“No. Don’t any of you dare try to claim any moral high ground and justify yourselves. Neither of you has the right to interfere in my personal life. I don’t need permission to enforce my own boundaries as an adult and I can’t believe my autonomy means so little that you both can just disregard my wishes and feelings when it suits you. There is no justification for either of your behavior, and if you try and defend her again by patronizing me, Tristan – by trying to make me into the person at fault – then you and I will fall out in a way that makes our earlier argument look like a walk in the fucking park.”
“We’re just worried about you,” pleads Wilhelmina.
“As the lady said; you don’t have the right to invade her privacy, either of you,” Jackson’s voice is low, cold and full of steel.
Wilhelmina visibly quakes under his intense glare.
I grip his hand tighter for support.
“I’ve tolerated you both sending reports to my parents for years like I’m some clueless toddler. I accepted this overbearing and oppressive invasion of my life without question or complaint, but it’s time that all of you – my parents included – learn to respect my choices. I am a grown woman and I’m not going to stand for this level of interference any longer. You better not have called my parents, Tristan?” I’m furious and I don’t give a fuck who hears. I’m so far past giving a shit; this is my life for fuck sake.
Tristan looks uncomfortable and when he answers he isn’t his usual calm and authoritative self. “I had to explain about the Sophia incident after I checked in late –”
“Checked in late? Are you telling me my parents were informed that I was having a night out with my friends and that you were sending them updates? This isn’t NORMAL, Tristan!” I shout at him.
“I’m sorry, but it’s been the status quo for years –”
“Only because I’m obviously clueless as to how much you and my parents spy on me. At this rate, I could probably get a restraining order against all of you.”
“Emilia, stop. Your parents were concerned about what happened with Sophia and planned to visit you tomorrow, but then Miles answered the call from Matron Price and informed both me and your parents about Jackson; they’ll be here first thing.”
“Stop. Telling. Me. What. To. Do. I am twenty-two fucking years old.”
“And what exactly is so wrong with me that her parents need to make an emergency visit?” I can hear the edge to Jackson’s voice and admire his composure, even though the anger radiating from him is unmistakable.
“You’re an Avidite,” answers Wilhelmina shakily.
“And I thought we lived in an age, and you lived in a sorority, which preaches tolerance and acceptance of all supernaturals,” retorts Jackson. “You don’t seem very tolerant now, you judgmental, hypocritical…”
Jackson trails off before he loses control completely.
“I’m firing you,” I whisper, all the air knocked out of me by how little control I appear to have over my own life. It’s like I’m a possession and every move I make is the rightful knowledge of my parents and security team.
“You can’t make that call, Emilia,” says Tristan calmly.
“Yes, I can. I may not be able to end your employment with my parents, but I refuse to have you or your team anywhere near me from now on. And with the way I feel right now, I’m not opposed to extending the stay away treatment to my parents as well. I don’t think I’ll be moving back in with them following graduation.”
“You can stay with me, Angel,” Jackson says gently, holding me close.
“I really don’t think –”
“It’s really none of your business, Wilhelmina. Who I choose to see and who I choose to live with is none of your goddamn concern. When will you understand that you don’t get a say? My life, my choice. You’ve all crossed so far past the line, you can’t even see it anymore. Is it really a surprise that I’ve snapped?”
Tristan ignores my question and looks directly at Jackson.
“Mr. Smoak, given the familial nature of this conversation, I’d really appreciate it if you would say goodnight to Miss. Vincent.”
I’m not surprised that trying to fire Tristan resulted in a short cut back to being addressed as ‘Miss. Vincent’, I am surprised by how superior he sounds when he says it. As if I’m a child he’s responsible for.
“That’s Emilia’s call. I’ll leave when she asks me to, not before.”
As much as I want him to stay with me tonight and have my back when I face off against my parents tomorrow, he has to get back to Dartmouth and there’s also a part of me that’s afraid for him to see my screwed up family politics. I know he has more staying power and that it would take more than overbearing parents to send him running. But I’m only just allowing the depth of my feelings for him to be felt and I’d be devastated if I managed to scare him away. Even if it is unlikely.