The Obsidian Collection Page 7

“Yeah, well, I can’t say that I’d blame him. If my teenage daughter were singing about touching herself, I’d probably have come apart at the seams, too.”

  “Not the same kind of come apart that he’d have,” she said softly. “You’d never have that kind of come apart.”

  Jackson reached over and took her hand, glad to have it back. The evening had taken a turn he hadn’t expected. He’d laid all of his shit out for her. He’d introduced her to his parents and—more awkwardly—his dead wife’s parents. For a first date, it should probably be classified a bomb. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d wanted to tuck tail and run. Yet, she hadn’t.

  Instead, Whitney had taken it all in stride. Everyone had been nice to her. More than that, they’d been downright accepting of her. She’d talked to Jackson’s mother, Sue, and her sister, Aunt Mindy. She’d even made small talk with Lana’s dad.

  And now, she was opening up to him, giving him a little snippet of the horror-filled childhood her father had dished out. Nothing could’ve made him happier. That sounds wrong.

  However, he needed to lighten the mood. They were getting close to the hotel, and he didn’t want her last memory of their first date to be of his sad story and her abusive father.

  The Divinyls continued to sing about touching themselves, and Jackson squeezed her hand before letting it go and trailing his fingers up her thigh. “You’re right. I’d never have the kind of come apart that your dad would. But if you sing for me now, I’m pretty sure you’ll get to see a whole different kind of come apart.”

  “Somehow I think I’d enjoy seeing you coming apart.” He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. “Speaking of coming apart, do you want to come in?” she asked.

  Jackson had to work to keep his jaw from hitting the steering wheel. Had she just invited him up to her room? He didn’t want to make any assumptions. “I’ll walk you in. Until we get things under control, there’ll be no walking around dark parking lots by yourself, capisce?”

  “Capisce, Detective. You know,” she seemed to be thinking out loud, “I kind of like it when you go all protective gorilla-cop on me.”

  “Do you now? I think I can easily arrange for more gorilla-cop sightings.” He turned the engine off and sat still for a moment before speaking again. “Whitney, I know this date turned out kind of crazy, but I’d really like to see you again.” He turned and looked at her, small in the seat of the entirely too-large car. “I promise I won’t involve my whole family next time.”

  Whitney reached across the console and placed her hands on either side of his face. “It was perfect, Jackson, and I think you needed to see your family. They needed to see you, too. It was nice being around people who weren’t constantly trying to cut each other down. Your family is great. You’re lucky to have them.”

  Jackson loved the feel of her soft hands on his face. He wanted to ask her if he could kiss her. He wanted to do it without asking. “So you think you are up for a second date?” he said instead.

  “Who said this one was over?”

  A fire lit in Jackson’s eyes, and he struggled to tamp it down. “Let’s go,” he said, “before I’m in no condition to get out of the car and walk through the lobby.”

  “That seems to be a frequent problem for you,” Whitney said with a gleam in her eye.

  “Only when you’re around.”

  They were talking about his erection again, which meant the date had come full circle. As they walked into the hotel together, with Whitney’s hand tucked into his, Jackson had the strangest feeling of burning anger on his back. He glanced around, but there was nothing but the lobby ficus. Generally, ficus were non-threatening.

  He shook off the odd feeling, and realized a moment later that he had his hand on Whitney’s lower back, guiding her through the halls of the hotel. The small, intimate touch was zapping through his arm, making every part of him boil. Jackson tried again to relax; the date had been a mess, but she wasn’t running away screaming. That had to count for something.

  The door appeared quickly. He wanted more time, but this was where the night had to end.

  Whitney looked down at her boots, her incredibly sexy boots. She twirled her fingers around his and smiled secretly. “Thank you, Jackson. You have an amazing family, and I had an awesome, eye-opening night. You’ve shown me so much in the past few days; there’s a whole world out there I’m missing.”

  “It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll let me show you more,” Jackson answered.

  Whitney slipped the keycard into the door and popped the lock. “Come in?”

  “Whit…”

  “I know exactly what I’m asking,” she whispered. “You gave me the courage to ask it.”

  “Whitney,” he tried again. But it seemed his tongue had pulled into his body, and his dick stuck out. Wrong, this is wrong. The only things in that room were two chairs and a very, very large bed.

  “I want you to try out the bed.” She lifted her eyes to his and her gaze scorched through his. She set every part of his body on fire in that instant. “And I want to be in it with you.”

  Aw. Fuck.

  She stepped back into the door to push it open. Jackson reached back and pulled it closed. “No.”

  Whitney’s face fell, but he stepped into her and pressed her completely against the door. He braced his hands on either side of her slight body. “No. I will not going into that hotel room with you until I have kissed you properly first.” He dropped his mouth to hers and captured her.

  Jackson nearly spilled himself into his pants when finally he got his first taste of this woman. She was sweet and salty from dinner and dessert. She had the fresh scent of mint, and flavors all swirled between them as he dominated the kiss. She was so soft, so pliant, so damn good. Whitney melted into him, her firm, high breasts pressing against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he tugged her away from the door, and firmly planted one palm on her tiny, taut ass. He squeezed it just a little.

  Whitney moaned in to his mouth, and the sound and feeling roiled through him. His dick was again at full attention, and pressing against the back of the zipper. If this little creature made him any harder, he was going to burst through. Jackson pulled back from her, lessening his possession of her mouth.

  “Is this even right? I’ve been out of the dating scene…”

  “Will you stop,” she managed to breathe. “You make yourself sound like an old man.”

  “Old and grizzled,” he teased.

  “Young, hot and sexy,” she confessed. “Come in. Please.”

  How much did he really want to remind her she technically still had a husband? Gazing into her lust-laced eyes, Jackson knew he had to say something. “What about...”

  “I have an appointment with a divorce attorney on Monday.”

  Jackson felt his eyes widen. “You do.”

  She nodded. “And my husband had been cheating on me since long before we said our vows. I’m not a fool. I just didn’t know it wasn’t the way things should be. I thought all women had to go every six months for a health check to make sure they hadn’t caught anything from their husbands.” She leaned back against the door. “Come in. Please.”

  “You really want this?”

  “Don’t you?” Whitney smirked at him. “I know a certain part of you does.”

  Her fingers brushed over his throbbing erection. He closed his eyes to bear the feeling of her sweet fingers touching him. “Key?”

  She slid it in again and they tumbled backwards into the room. Jackson took a painful step away from her to latch the door and throw the deadbolt. Whitney skittered across the room to pull the curtains shut, and Jackson watched as her tight ass moved under the clothes.

  His whole being rejoiced; he was free to peer and leer all he wanted.

  Whitney walked back to him, and was about to sit down on the bed. Jackson caught her, stopping her before she could. “No. You want this, and I want to do this the right way.”

  “The right way—”<
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  He stole her ability to finish with a kiss that held everything he was offering at that moment. Lust, desire, love, caring, worship, intimacy, and Whitney fell into him. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting to feel her breasts against him again. She was so soft and yet so firm in all the right places.

  His kisses trailed down her jaw to her ear where he nipped gently. Whitney gasped, and tried to pull him closer, but there was already no space between them. Jackson grabbed her ass again, and then threaded his hand through her night-dark tresses, realizing that every part of this woman was seductive. “The right way, Whitney. Slow. Long. Tenderly.”

  She shivered; Jackson realized this was her ‘turned-on’; the shiver that tripped through her. Kissing and nibbling his way down her throat, he took her purse off her shoulder, and tossed it toward the chair. He pushed her hair to the side and kissed down to her shoulder, moving the fabric of the tight, suggestive sweater out of the way.

  Jackson brought his hands to the bottom of the sweater, and in a very easy move, he had it up and over her head. Black fucking lace. Shit. The bra was more a suggestion than a statement, and he liked it. His hand slipped up and cupped her breast, the beaded tip pressing into the palm of his hand. While he was taken by the feel of her breast in his hand, mesmerized by her, Whitney had unbuttoned his shirt and sleeves and was pushing it off his body.

  Her hands were greedy and Jackson laughed lightly, allowing her to push the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. She threw it in the general direction of the chair, and the instant her fingers ran through the small patches of hair on his chest, his whole body burned hotter than before. She explored him with her fingers and he closed his eyes to enjoy—but she shocked them back open by leaning in and wrapping her kiss-swollen lips around his nipple.

  “Shit!” How long had it been? He was about to come like a fifteen-year-old boy. “Baby, if you don’t quit that right now, I’m going to do wicked things to you later.”

  “Wicked, Detective?” Whitney teased.

  It was easy to find the beaded points her bra was trying, and failing, to hide. His finger pinched lightly and she gasped. “Very wicked.” He smiled. “Now, stand still so I can worship this amazing body.”

  “I don’t—”

  Jackson put a finger to her lips. “Ssh. No. Let me play.”

  “Jackson—”

  He leveled his gaze at her. “Don’t make me take you over my knee.”

  Whitney gasped scandalized, but at the same her, whole body flushed crimson hot. That comment was a risk, given the circumstances, but instead, she seemed intrigued by the idea.

  “Oh, really,” he questioned. “Do you like that idea?” He caressed her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples.

  She breathed out slowly. “I don’t know…I’m good at missionary.”

  He smiled, trailing his hands behind her and deftly unhooking the bra in a single motion. “I have so much I can show you. I’d very much like to teach you.The bra was off and joined his shirt.

  Whitney’s naked breasts were perfect. They were plump and full, large but not overly so and firm yet soft enough to want to lay his head on them and just feel them rise and fall with her breathing. Literally brought to his knees, he wrapping a hand around each, moved them together. He pulled the distended peak into his mouth and suckled. Whitney breathed out hard, and he heard his name fall from her lips from the first time. “Jackson…”

  “Perfect,” he praised. He used his teeth, lips and tongue to excite and tease, letting her escape his mouth with a sexual ‘pop’ when he trailed over to the other, paying it the same attention. Her fingers ran circles on his scalp, and it was making him a little crazy to have her hands in his hair.

  “Jackson, I want more,” she said.

  “I have more,” he answered.

  Jackson stood and picked up his little Whitney, moving her to the bed. It was a quick trip, and Whitney tossed her head back and laughed. He stood her there, and marveled at how quickly her pants disappeared soon after.

  More black lace. It was hardly worth mentioning, though. He saw the dark patch of neatly trimmed hair she had and became even harder. “Lay back,” he commanded, as he divested himself of his constrictive pants. Whitney watched him, and gasped when he sprung free.

  “You were commando all night…”

  “I usually am,” he said.

  “Oh, shit…” Her hand reached out for his powerful shaft.

  He grabbed it before she could touch him; mostly because he wasn’t sure he could hold back if she wrapped that lithe hand around him. She looked sad for just a moment until he dropped a kiss on her palm, carefully. “Not yet.”

  After a moment’s visit to her breasts, Jackson pressed her back against the mattress, trailing his kisses down her stomach. With one hand, he swept the wisp of panties from her body. He ran his hands down her legs and pressed them apart. “Open up for me, Whitney, please. Can you let me see your pretty pussy?”

  She looked into his eyes with a look conveying the trust she felt. All resistance to him intruding there was gone as she groaned at his command. And his reward was worth it. Her core was wet with her dew and she glistened, laying as if a feast before a starving man. Which really, he was at this point. Two thumbs, one on either side, slowly teased her folds away and he lowered his tongue to the sensitive bundle waiting for him.

  “Jackson, what are you doing?” she whispered.

  “I want to taste you,” he said. “I want your flavor on my lips so that when I kiss you again, you can taste yourself on me.”

  “Christ,” she groaned. “Isn’t that just all porn?”

  “Hush and let me enjoy you. I want to hear you come. I want to feel you on my lips.”

  “Jackson—”

  “Argue one more time, and I’m going to follow through with that spanking.” She trembled, hard, and Jackson had to suppress his own groan. He distracted himself with the delight in front of him. He covered her with his mouth and flicked his tongue over her.

  She lost all of her breath in a rush. “Holy shit! Jackson!”

  God, that sounds as good as I imagined. He kept up with his torturous assault on her, licking and sucking and even nibbling a few times. His hand trailed down her inner thigh, and then across to dip into her. She gasped and nearly screamed again. “Keep going. Oh, God, oh, shit, Oh, Jackson! Please!”

  He careful and delicately stroked the inside of her walls with his finger. It made her shiver, squirm and shiver again as he took his time, carefully stroking the velvet of her inner walls. ‘Jackson’ was a mantra falling from her perfect lips as he fully enjoyed, licked, sucked, and explored her. Trembling, shivering, and gasping, Whitney thrashed on the bed from his assault. He loved this. He adored the way she thrashed around as he teased her. With an expertly soft stroke, gentle suck and delicate tug on her sex, he threw her into a breathtaking climax. The sound of his name flying off her lips, with a dozen other swear words, was the heaven he’d been searching for.

  Whitney started to come down from the height Jackson gave her, slowly stilling on the bed. She looked at him dumbstruck. “Jackson. No one has ever done that to me.”

  “Gone down on you?” he asked. “Really? Because I’ll be happy to accommodate again.”

  “Made me come,” she corrected.

  “That was your first orgasm?” That was both surprising and a terrible tragedy. But Whitney nodded, and Jackson slowly stood over her. “Well. We have some time to make up, don’t we?” Carefully, he moved her back on the bed and lowered himself to cover her. His hard-on brushed against her tender stomach—he felt her react to his hard, hot erection with a sharp intake of breath and her pliant skin moving against him—and he leaned down. “I want you to taste your pussy on my lips.” Dirty talk, I’ve missed you.

  “Oh, shit.”

  Not another word escaped her as he pressed his mouth to hers and drew her tongue into his mouth. Stroking, sucking, petting her, he mingled her taste between them. Whitn
ey was so responsive to him; she pressed forward, seeking more of her flavor in his.

  Jackson pulled back and smiled at her. She was sex-drunk already, and he wasn’t done with her yet. “Whitney, gorgeous, are you protected? Because I want to know that when I fuck you, I can come deep inside you.”

  Her sweet finger reached out and stroked his brow carefully, thoughtfully. “Yes,” she breathed. She let a few more breaths out. “Christ, Jackson, I want to feel that. I want to feel you come in me.”

  “Good, because I want to.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them so she was on top. If this were happening, it was happening the right way. Just the way he fanaticized it would. Her gasp made him smile; she was surprised. “What…?”

  “I want you on top,” he explained. “I want to watch you sink down on me. You need to be up there and I want you to ride me. Fast, slow, hard, soft, I don’t care. Just ride me.”

  She hesitated. She’d never been given such a chance, such a huge piece of unfettered sexual control. In the next moment, he saw her seize that control. She pulled her legs under her and found her center. She grabbed his shaft in both hands and ran them up and down a few times. Jackson was ready to finish right there in her hands. He stilled his reaction and enjoyed her strokes, each one moving him closer to the end.

  Of course, she’s good at this. Sean wouldn’t want anything else from her.

  He pushed thought to the side, and instead, watched as her lovely, full pink breasts swayed as she moved. Jackson reached a hand up and brushed his fingertips over her still-erect nipples. Whitney’s wonderful stutter-shiver ran its route through her. She moved ever so slightly to position herself between his legs, and he took her hands and stilled them on him. “Baby, I know you think that’s what I’m looking for, but it’s not. Get on. I want to feel you around me.”

  “Shouldn’t I…”

  “Save it for another day,” he said. “There’s no order of operation here. Let me feel you ride my dick.” He dusted a finger over her core; hot, wet and waiting. He grabbed the base of his heavy erection and held it for her while his other hand still busied itself at her taut nipple. Whitney lifted herself over him, and just as he imagined, watching her consume him, taking his shaft into her was just as erotic as feeling her sinking onto him. “Damn, baby, you’re tight.”