Page 67 of I Just Want to be Yours

She waits for a beat, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

I huff a laugh. “Since when do you ask me for permission to do anything?”

Her smile grows, and she crawls toward me again. This time settling between my legs and holding my face in her hands. “I don’t mind bending. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m genuinely excited for you.” I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off. “And I know my dreams are important, too. I still have all those things you listed. I’m still doing all of them.”

“You haven’t posted on your blog as much lately.”

She blinks before letting go of my face and dropping back on her heels. “You still read my blog?”

“Of course I do. Where else would I know to find the best place to buy vinyl records in Ybor?”

She still looks surprised, those big, brown eyes blinking before she pushes herself up on her knees again and drapes her arms around my neck. She’s taller than me like this, and I haveto look up at her. Without thinking, my hands find her bare thighs and move up to cup her perfect ass.

“Post on your blog more, Margot.”

She nods, her breath catching when my hands move up her hips and waist until setting under the curves of her breasts. “Okay,” she breathes.

She kisses me, and it feels different than all the other times we’ve kissed tonight. The kiss feels like she’s thanking me, but I haven’t done anything. If anything, I should be the one thanking her. Gently pushing me back on the bed, she never breaks the kiss. Not until she softly says, “I promise to always go after the things I want, but right now, I just want you.”

In the next kiss I flip her onto her back and hold myself over her, letting my hips settle against hers. “You have me, Margot. You always have.”

40

margot

My eyes flutter open,and I’ve never been so disappointed to see sunlight peeking through the curtains. Jackson’s leg heavily rests over mine as he sleeps on his stomach beside me, and I take a moment to just look at him. His hair is a mess, but it somehow suits him. His back is exposed, and I fight the urge to run my fingertips over the muscles of his shoulders.

I woke up this way for weeks when he stayed with me over the summer, but I don’t think I ever fully appreciated it. I thought I did. But after spending the last couple of months without him, I know how much better this is. The difference between waking up in my bed alone and waking uphereis stark. I know he’s safe. I know how his night was. I know he had a great show. I don’t have to wonder or worry about anything at all. It’s probably the first time I’ve woken up and not felt the immediate need to check my phone in case there are any messages from him or any posts on the band’s social media.

Carefully reaching for my phone, I tap the screen to check the time and do a double take.

10:37 a.m.

I blink. It has to be wrong. There’s no way we slept so late. I mean, sure, wedidstay up half the night. But even with that, I figured we’d wake up around ten at the latest. I figured we’d have time to lie in bed together and grab some breakfast before my flight at one, but I need to get to the airport . . . soon. Really soon. JFK is no joke, and if I don’t want to miss my flight, I need to get therenow.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, and Jackson stirs next to me. He reaches for me, but my heart is already racing with adrenaline, and I’m ready to grab my stuff and go. Jackson rolls onto his side and pulls me in so my back is against his chest, the length of him pressing against my ass.

Damn mornings.

But even though IknowI need to get to the airport, I ache to stay here with him.

Jackson’s mouth is hot on my neck, and he works his expert fingers over my exposed hip and between my legs. I gasp when he finds my clit, and my back instinctively arches, making my ass grind against him. The low, guttural sound from his throat has me wanting to forget about my flight altogether.

I used to wake up this way all the time. This was once our norm. He’d work his magic, knowing it’s almost impossible for me to say no to him, and I’d be left scrambling to get ready for work on time. He loved it. He loved watching me frantically try to piece myself together after he just made me fall apart. I could tell by the way he used to watch me dash around the room with a subtle lift to those perfect lips of his. But this is different. I can’t just be late to my flight—I’ll miss it.

“Jackson,” I pant, already growing slick between my legs.

“Mm?” He follows by devouring my neck with more vigor, his free hand moving up to palm my breast.

The combination has me arching against him more—the same way I’m sure he knew it would. “Jackson,” I try again, but my conviction wanes with every passing second.

Flipping me onto my back, he holds himself over me, his mouth moving to my collarbone while he grips and gropes me everywhere. My body is putty in his hands, molding and shaping. My muscles are always looser around him. Even with the added stress of knowing we need to get to the airport, my legs still easily fall open with the slightest touch.

“Say what you need to say, Margot,” he croons against my skin. The head of him rubs against my clit, and I can already feel myself slipping.

It would be so easy to stay in this bed with him but doing that would derail everything. I have work tomorrow. I have an essay I still need to write. With my heart racing for more reasons than one, I blurt, “My flight!” The words come out cracked and desperate.

Jackson finally pulls back to look at me. “What about your flight?”

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