Page 57 of Redemption

“Were you ever going to tell me?” I asked, devastated that Jackson had accepted a job across the country and was moving to LA. I’d only found out because Greer had congratulated him in front of me.

Talk about heartbreaking. The man I loved was moving, and he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that he was interviewing, let alone had accepted a job. Was he just going to leave? Without telling me? My body felt as if it might rip in two.

Jackson stalked toward me, crowding me. His expression was like a thunderhead. “I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my heart rate racing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, Sloan. Maybe the fact that you’re a hotel heiress.”

I scoffed. Right. Of course. “So that changes things, does it?”

“Yes. No.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen floor. “It only reaffirms what I already knew.”

“And what’s that, Jackson?”

“All this time, we’ve been kidding ourselves. My sister. Your family. Your…future.” He shook his head.

Wait. What? I could feel the panic rising. No. He couldn’t do this to me. To us.

“You’re my future.” I placed my hand over his heart. And he was mine.

And yet, he hadn’t asked if I’d go with him to LA.

He took my hand in his, and then he shook his head, his expression downcast. “This was the only potential outcome. Face it, Sloan. It’s inevitable.” He gave my hand a squeeze before releasing me. And when he took a step back, it felt as if he’d erected a wall between us.

Inevitable.

I lowered my hands and took a step back, trying to calm myself. To clear my head. While I had faith that I could weather any storm with Athena, I couldn’t survive another round with Jackson.

“Sorry. I, uh, I think I must have gotten too much sun.”

He dropped his hands as well. “It is warm out.” But his gaze was focused on my lips when he said it.

The tension between us pulled taut. He looked as if he was going to kiss me or break me. I knew both were equally likely when it came to him. I could practically feel the desire and restraint rolling off him.

I’d never had someone look at me the way Jackson did. As if he’d die if he didn’t touch me. As if it took everything in his power to hold himself back.

I knew what I wanted. What I’d always wanted—him.

I licked my lips, and his eyes darted there, his nostrils flaring. Desire blazed inside me, and my chest rose and fell in great, shaky breaths.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, or if it even mattered, but I blinked and we were touching. He was kissing me. Holding me. Igniting every nerve ending that had lain dormant for the past decade. Reviving me.

I gasped into his mouth, unable to get close enough. “Jackson.”

I wanted to be swept up in that frenzy. That rush that only Jackson could evoke in me. Right now, I didn’t care if it killed me. Not when his touch was the only thing that made me feel truly alive.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

His erection dug into my stomach, and his hands were everywhere. On my hips, sliding up my ribs to cup my breasts, in my hair. I was just as out of control, touching every inch of bare skin I could reach.

“We shouldn’t,” he said between kisses, his words an echo of the past. Though—then and now—he didn’t seem inclined to stop. I didn’t want him to stop.

“Don’t stop,” I begged.

He kissed me again, making me dizzy. Delirious.

“But I’m…” He leaned his forehead against mine. “And you’re…” He tightened his grip on my hips and groaned. Heat flooded my core, making my nipples pebble with desire. “We can’t.”

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