Page 119 of I Just Want to be Yours

But I’m not stupid.

He isn’t keeping me out of convenience for when he’s home. He isn’t looking for a part-time relationship the way I painted it in my head. He’s here, fighting—for me, for us, for the life he wants us to have.

Gently, I reach out and run my fingertips over his arm to wake him. He stirs, squinting at me, and smiles lazily.

“What time is your flight?”

Jackson groans. “Three, but we don’t need to talk aboutthat.” He reaches for me, pulling me closer so he can kiss the top of my head.

Wrapping my arms around him, my fingers graze the muscles of his back. “Are you hungry? Want coffee?”

A low hum rumbles in his throat. “Yes, and yes. My dinner last night was airport snacks.”

I pull away from him. “Okay, I’ll make us something.”

Jackson yanks me back so that I’m underneath him in one swift movement. “I’ll cook.” He has me pinned against the bed and memories of last night flood through my mind. We always do this. We go so long without seeing each other and then we can’t keep our hands off each other when we’re finally together.

I’m not complaining.

Looking up at Jackson, I say, “Check the time.”

Those steel eyes are full of mischief. “I don’t want to.”

I let out a laugh. “Just check. I don’t want you to miss your flight.”

He stares at me for another beat, and I playfully swat at his chest. “Check.”

“All right. All right.” Without moving off me, he reaches for his phone. He only glances at the time before setting it down and shifting his focus back to me. “It’s ten.”

“We need to leave in two hours to get you to the airport on time.”

The corner of his mouth kicks up. “Plenty of time.” Pushing up the T-shirt I slept in, he leaves a trail of hungry kisses down my stomach, and my entire body wakes up at the contact. I never would have described Jackson as timid, but ever since I told him I love him, he’s different. He’s different in a way that makes me think he was holding back before. He’s bolder, more assertive, even his gentle moments just feel?—

His tongue drags over my wet heat, and I stifle a cry.

More.

His warm tongue dips inside me, and it’s almost too much. I squirm to lessen the pressure, but a commanding hand grips my thigh to keep me in place.

“Jackson,” I plead, and I don’t even know what I’m begging for.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against me. He sucks hard on my clit, and I think my vision blacks. “I have a lot to make up for.” His tongue flattens against me like he can’t get enough, and my legs shake.

“Fuck.” I breathe out the word.

Jackson’s voice is rough when he says, “After.”

In the moment it takes for me to understand what he means, he’s already back to gently sucking on my clit, and it feels too good for me to speak.

I jolt at the sound of someone knocking on the apartment door.

Jackson lifts his head to look over shoulder. “Expecting someone?”

“No.” The word comes out breathy and full of need. I’m so close. Gripping his hair, I push his head back down, and he lets out a low rumble of a laugh against my center. But then he’s back to bringing me close to the edge within seconds.

The knocking starts again too, and this time I hear a muffled, “Margot?”

Braden.

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