Page 38 of Jackson

“How are we supposed to get something on him when we know nothing about him?” Ciara questions. “Believe me, we’ve been trying.”

“We need to figure out who his family is, or find something we can use against him. We know where he is staying, maybe we could get someone staying there on board to get information. There were multiple women with him,” I say.

“That could work,” Addison nods, her eyebrows going up. “If we could bribe someone in that house with enough money, they could get information. All we need is something we can use against him, something to get him scared, and then we just need to lead Hound to him.”

“I think it’ll work,” Ciara agrees, looking around the room. “So far, it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

“What if Hound doesn’t take the bait?” Spike mutters, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“We’ll have to make sure he does,” Muff throws in. “All he needs is to ‘overhear’ Serenity sayin’ something about Gerard, and how she needs to take him out to clear her name, and Hound will take that chance to swoop in and get Gerard on his side. If he thinks that he can bring her down, the club down, and make us suffer, he’ll take it.”

“Are we goin’ forward, Pres?” Spike asks, looking to Jackson.

Jackson grunts, but nods. “Find out who is in that house with him and bribe them with whatever you can to get them on our side. We just need somethin’ we can use against him.”

“I’m on it,” Muff says, turning and walking out of the room.

This will work, right?

It has to work.

It just has to.

I STARE DOWN AT AVAsleeping, and my heart aches even though I’m right beside her. I don’t want to walk away, I don’t want to leave her side, I just want to watch her all night, but I can’t. I need to go and fix things with Jackson, because if I don’t, this plan is never going to work. My name will never be cleared, and I’ll never be truly free.

Turning, I tiptoe out of the room and close the door softly. It feels nice to be back in the house, even though it’s a huge risk. I can’t be seen near windows and doors, and there are bikers watching out for police officers in multiple locations. Jackson is using a burner phone, to be safe, and we’re doing everything we can to keep me out of prison while we fix this.

I find Jackson sitting at a chair by the window, his feet up on the ledge, a beer in his hand, staring out into the darkness. I want to go over to him, but I can’t be seen in the window, so I do the only thing I can ... I turn the lights out. Nobody can see in if the lights are out. Jackson shifts in his chair, and I can just see his silhouette beneath the moonlight cascading through the window.

I stop behind him and reach down, running my fingers through his damp hair. He smells clean, faintly of lavender, and I know he has recently showered. He’s not wearing a shirt, and the intense urge to run my mouth over his flesh is crippling. I can’t stop myself. I move around to the front of him and put my legs either side of his.

He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t move.

I bring my mouth down and press it to his bare chest, loving the way his muscles bunch and jerk beneath my tongue. I kiss and suck, moving up and down, over his chest and upper abdomen. His cock is hardening beneath me, and even though he hasn’t made a single sound, I know he wants it too.

I lift my head until my face is in front of his, and I can feel his warm breath against my lips. I slide my tongue out, running it over his lower lip, finally earning myself a growl. Fuck, when he growls, it’s like the world stands still. I want him so bad.

“Tell me you forgive me, honey,” I murmur against his lips. “I can’t live with you being mad at me.”

He doesn’t answer me, but his hand does move, sliding up my back beneath my shirt.

Is that forgiveness? I don’t know.

But it feels good.

“Tell me what it will take for you to forgive me,” I whisper, my mouth moving around to his ear and nipping at the lobe. “Do you want me to suck your dick?”

He hisses, jerking his hips up so his cock pushes against me.

“Or do you want me to ride you, right here, slowly, until you gasp my name?”

A rumble in his throat tells me I’m getting through to him.

“Or maybe you’d like to bend me over the windowsill and fuck my ass?”

A ragged growl escapes his lips, and he murmurs, “Keep talkin’ like that, darlin’, and I might just forgive you.”

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