Page 21 of What A Croc
My dick was rock hard, throbbing, and demanding to be let free of the denim that caged it in. I needed…needed…I neededJackson. I needed my alpha. Needed him with an urgency I had never felt before.
“Jackson,” I whined his name, undulating my body against his, trying to get some kind of friction, “need…you…please.”
His thumb rubbed my kiss swollen lower lip, his gaze glued to mine. “Shh sweetheart, I know what you need. The question is, what do you want? Do you want me to spend your heat with you? I understand if you don’t.” He licked his own lips, his tongue chasing the taste of me on him. “But I would really, really like to spend your heat with you.”
“Yes!” The word burst from my mouth in a rough shout. “Please, yes!”
His eyes were soft as he gazed down at me, a smile tugging at his lips. They were shiny from our kiss, red and puffy, and I wanted to taste him again.
I wanted this man’s tongue on me, in all my secret places, wanted his hands running over my fiery skin. Wanted his heavy body pinning me to the bed and wanted his thick cock splitting me open, until his knot tied us together.
Jackson nodded, straightening up until he was standing outside the car. He made sure I was safely tucked in before he shut my door and hurried around to his side. Turning the key in the ignition, he stopped, breathing hard in the small confines of his car.
“I need to make arrangements for Aiden. Do you want to be at your house, in your space, or would you prefer to come to mine? I’ll need to grab a bag for Aiden, so I’m just thinking about logistics.”
It made me happy my alpha could think about the details, because right now all I could focus on was the rampant need for him causing my brain to short out. “Umm…my place?” Shaking my head, I changed my mind. “Wait, no. Wyatt and Becks are too close. Do you have a house?”
He nodded, “I do.”
“Your house,” I mumbled. “At least I don’t know your neighbors if they hear me. It’s just…I really don’t want Wyatt to hear us.”
Jackson’s brows knitted together in confusion, or maybe concern. It was hard to tell since I didn’t know the man all that well yet. Not well enough to read his facial expressions. And I was aware I was probably not making all that much sense to him, even though it made perfect sense in my still cloudy brain fog.
What I wasn’t saying was that I didn’t want to hold back when he railed me. That I wanted to moan and scream, wanted him to pound me into the mattress, wanted him to mark me, and cover me in his cum. And doing all that with my adult son right next door, with only a shared driveway separating us, was just a no for me. It was all just too embarrassing.
Instead of questioning me on why I preferred to spend my heat with him at his house, Jackson just nodded. He pulled out his phone and spoke quietly to someone for a few minutes. My temperature was amping up, rolling over me in a wave of fire, and all my nerve endings were strumming with lust. All I could concentrate on was Jackson, his scent, the shape of his large hand as it clutched his phone.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he tucked his phone away, and backed the car out of the parking spot.
“Okay, we’ll swing by my house so I can pack Aiden a bag. I’m going to need to drop it off at Brendan and Ryan’s. You can stay at my house, or you can come with me. Do we have time for that? They don’t live far from your place, if you think we have time, we can grab yousome stuff. Comfortable clothes for after, anything you might want with you.”
His words were such a shock all I could do was stare at him and croak out a whispered, “What?”
It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard him or understood him. More a reaction to his kindness. His thoughtfulness. His absolute willingness to put my needs first. How long had it been since anyone had done that for me? Had anyoneeverdone that for me?
The answer was a resounding no. And it completely knocked me off kilter.
Jackson reached over and squeezed my hand, as he expertly navigated the streets through town with one hand.
Can we keep him?My gazelle whined and I shook my head. In answer or to try to clear my head, I wasn’t sure. Why couldn’t we keep Jackson, again? I knew there was a reason. I had a whole list of them.
But in the small confines of his car, the darkness of the night cocooning us, only broken intermediately by streetlights, I couldn’t remember one single reason I had for why Jackson and I shouldn’t be together.
His warm lips brushed over the knuckles of my hand, startling me. My eyes flew to our entwined hands, then to his face. “You with me, sweetheart?”
This man. Everything about him tugged at my soul. The scent of him in the car, mingling with my slick andheat pheromones, was driving me mad. Thrashing my head on my seat, I panted, “Horny.”
Jackson snort laughed, “I know. We’ll get that taken care of soon. I promise, sweetheart.”
My dick jerked every time he called me sweetheart. The word rolled off his tongue like silk, and I shivered. Rubbing a hand over the bulge of my jeans, I squeezed my dick, gasping at the sweet friction.
“We’re almost to my house,” he purred, turning into an affluent subdivision in the center of Sweet Alps. “Just hold on a few more minutes and I promise to make you feel better.”
Squinting at him in the darkness of the car, I whispered, “Are you a cinnamon roll?”
Jackson chuckled, thinning his lips tightly to muffle the sound. “I’m not really sure what that means?”
“I don’t know either,” I waved a hand in the air, “but you are sweet enough to eat. Can I eat you? I really want to get your cock in my mouth and lick you like an ice cream cone.”
