Page 63 of I Just Want to be Yours

“You . . .” But I can’t argue his point. Hedoesdistract me. Always. It doesn’t matter if he’s thousands of miles away or standing right in front of me, Jackson Phillips is the best kind of distraction. Instead of finishing my sentence, I push up on my toes and kiss him. Jackson wraps his arms around me, deepening the kiss, his mouth warm and soft on mine. It isn’t the same as when he kissed me earlier today. This kiss is slow and packed with feeling, and I do everything I can to memorize this moment.

I’m breathless by the time we break the kiss, and grasping his hand, I pull him toward the hotel. The sound of his low laughter warming my soul.

37

jackson

Margot leadsme through the desolate lobby of the hotel, but when she starts walking the wrong way, I tighten my grip on her hand. She looks over her shoulder at me and shakes her head. Keeping her voice low, she says, “I want to see the pool.”

You’d think she just said something a lot dirtier with the way those words grabbed my dick’s attention. “But I lost the bet.”

She raises a mischievous brow. “Maybe I want to add to my prize.”

This time my hand tightens around hers for a completely different reason. Sometimes I feel like I know Margot better than anyone, but then there are times—like right now—that she takes me completely by surprise. I’ve never seen her this bold.

Catching up to her plan, I blink the shock away and hurry after her. “You’re serious?”

She shrugs innocently. “We’ll see.”

The pool is tucked away in the back of the hotel, and the dim glowing coach lights make me wonder if the area will belocked. Everything around us is quiet, and I get the feeling we aren’t supposed to be back here this late. Margot glances at me, suddenly looking less brave, but even though there’s no one around, the door is unlocked.

Her eyes widen, some of that excitement and mischief returning. “This is nice!” she says in a loud whisper, and I follow in behind her as she takes in the space.

Stone pavers surround the pool, giving it an outdoor feel even though it’s not. The only sound is the gentle flow of water from two small fountains, and there’s something about finally being alone with Margot—really alone—that puts my mind at ease.

I thought she’d want to go to Times Square. I thought she’d want to explore, and I thought I’d be able to tell her I love her under the glow of the city lights. But she’d rather be with me in this hotel, and I didn’t know it was possible, but I think I might love her more for it.

Keeping my distance, I let her take everything in. She marvels at the soft lighting, and the beautiful fountains, and before I know it, she’s slipping off her shoes and dipping her toes in the water.

Glancing up at me, she smiles. “It’s warm.”

My eyebrows lift. “Yeah? Want to go in?”

She beams brighter. “Yes.” Her face falls and she looks around with a crease forming between her brow. “Do you think there are cameras?”

I huff out a laugh. “Yes.”

Her eyes widen and lock on me.

“We’re at a hotel in New York City, of course there are cameras. At least one, anyway.” I look up and nod to a small black dome on a metal arm. It’s the only one I see. “There.”

She follows my gaze, her arms dropping at her sides like all her fun has been ruined.

I walk over to the camera, and as I do, I pull my black T-shirt over my head. I stop just underneath it and look back at Margot. “What do you say, Red? Want to go for a swim?”

The apprehension wanes from her expression the longer she looks at me. “Have you been working out?”

Looking down at my shirt, I double up the material as I let out a breath of laughter. “A little.” It turns out boredom is a great motivator, and nothing is more boring than spending hours in an RV as you drive from city to city. When my eyes meet hers again, I raise my eyebrows and hold up the shirt to remind her of my question.

She’s biting her bottom lip as she shamelessly takes me in, and just that look could make me hard. With one last glance at the camera, she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go for a swim.”

An easy smile pulls at the corner of my mouth as I toss my shirt over the lens, blocking its view. “Margot Reid, breaking all the rules.”

“To be fair, you’re a terrible influence.”

When I turn to face her, she carefully grasps the bottom hem of her shirt on each side before slowly lifting it over her head. I drink in every sliver of skin as she reveals more of herself inch by inch. I should walk toward her. I should lessen the distance between us. Hell, I should fuckingsaysomething. But I’m mesmerized by her. I’m completely in a trance as she slowly unbuttons her jeans and gently shimmies them down her thighs, her eyes never leaving mine.

She’s just in her underwear now. Light pink cotton panties and a matching bra. Reaching behind her back, she unclasps her bra and lets it slide down her arms. Her ivory skin in the glow of the coach lights is fucking perfection. Those pink, taut nipples are perked and begging to be sucked, and my cock throbs against the strain of my pants at the thought.

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