Chapter Nine
013
Nicky didn’t know why she was surprised that Jackson could cook with a capital C, but she was. Even after she’d consumed her half of a tomato, basil, and goat cheese fritata and polished off two gingerbread waffles with batter she’d watched Jackson make from scratch, she couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. After all, just because the only other dom she’d had breakfast with couldn’t fry an egg to save his life, it didn’t mean all dominant men were the same.
Jackson had already demonstrated an abundance of differences between himself and her soon-to-be ex. Not the least of which was an insatiable desire for her after-baby body. He didn’t seem to notice that her breasts sagged a little and had stretch marks on their sides, or that the skin on her stomach wasn’t as tight as it used to be. She’d hit the gym every day in hopes of resuming her career and knew she looked good enough to model, but there were things a lover saw that a camera didn’t.
But Jackson didn’t see them. Or if he did, he obviously didn’t find them repulsive.
“You want the last one?” he asked, pausing with his fork halfway to the last waffle on the plate between them.
“No, thank you.” She sat back in her chair with a contented sigh. “I’m stuffed. I shouldn’t have finished that second one, but I’m a sucker for real maple syrup. Soooo good.”
“Yeah, not like that fake butter-flavored crap we used to eat in high school. Remember when we fixed the little kids pancakes for dinner?”
Nicky nodded, noticing Jackson didn’t refer to the other kids by name, either. No matter how much they’d both tried to help the other minors unlucky enough to end up in Phil’s house, they had kept their emotional distance. It was the only way to stay sane when you were underage and helpless to change the lives of anyone, including yourself.
“They thought it was so cool we were having breakfast for dinner,” she said. “Like it was a special occasion.”
“When really we just didn’t have anything else to feed them except cereal.”
“Yeah. Good times.” Nicky crossed her legs in her chair and reached for her coffee. “But I’m more interested in hearing some new dirt. I thought you were going to give me the goods on the lifestyles of the rich and famous.”
“I was on a reality show on an arts station.” He shrugged, as if he really thought it was no big deal that he’d been on national television every week. Of course, knowing Jackson, he probably didn’t think it was a big deal. He’d never wanted to be a star. Not like she had when she was younger and certain she was going to set the modeling world on fire. Now she’d settle for making a decent living for her and Abby. “I’d hardly call that famous. Probably more people know your name than mine.”
“Doubtful.”
“From what I hear your picture was on half the billboards in L.A.”
“That was two years ago.” She laughed, remembering how totally weird it had been to see herself blown up ten feet tall. “In Los Angeles time that’s eons ago. I’m old news.”
“You’re still the featured model on the Good and Trashy Web site.”
“I’m sure that’s just because they’ve been too lazy to change the template. My body is part of the banner.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. That red corset thing is. . . very nice.”
Nicky laughed. “Stop trying to change the subject. I want to hear about you.”
“Me.” He sighed as he scooted his chair back and began to gather up the breakfast dishes.
He hadn’t served her on his hands and knees like he’d promised, but he had cooked, set the table, and motioned for her to stay seated as he continued cleaning up. A dominant man who didn’t mind serving as well as being served. God, she’d never dreamed such a person existed. She’d be falling for Jackson even if this were the first time they’d ever met.
“Yes, you.”
“Let’s see. After high school, I did the part-time tattoo artist, part-time bouncer thing. I built up a nice portfolio in the first six months and started planning my move to Reno.”
“Just like you said you would. Good for you.”
“But then I got an offer to move to Vegas and work as a bouncer for some new club. They were looking for a certain type and I fit the bill.”
“The tall, sexy, and scary type?”
“Something like that.” He poured himself another cup of coffee and then refilled her cup before easing back into his chair. “So you think I’m sexy, huh?”
“No, I’ve been faking all those orgasms,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“You’re an excellent actress.”
“I’m thinking about trying my hand at movies if the whole modeling thing doesn’t work out.” She grinned at him over the rim of her cup.
“Really?” he asked. “I bet you’d be great.”
“No, not really. Modeling is bad enough. I couldn’t deal with all the actor crap.”
He laughed. “So the famous thing isn’t as great as you thought it would be, huh? Hate to say I told you so, but. . .”
“No, you don’t. You love it. You always did.” Nicky’s smile faded as she narrowed her eyes in Jackson’s direction. “Must have been the dom in you, dying to come out and impose his will on people in need of his guidance.”
“I don’t know about that. I just thought you’d be happier doing something a little more low-key. You always hated it when people paid too much attention to you at school, I couldn’t imagine the attention of strangers would be any better.”
“You were right. It was weird getting that much attention, especially the lingerie-model kind of attention. But by the time I got the Good and Trashy gig, I was pretty tired of working ten-hour shifts at restaurants to pay my rent. The money made up for the weirdness factor.”
“Money does help. I was against the reality show idea at the beginning, but my partner, Christian, was right to push me into it. It was amazing free publicity. Quadrupled our business in the first year.”
They talked for another hour and a third pot of coffee, the conversation flowing more smoothly than any in her recent history. How long had it been since she’d been able to sit and have a relaxing conversation with a good friend? It seemed like forever. And she’d never felt so homey with a man.
Derrick had been the type of man who liked to keep his dom hat on at all times. At first, twenty-one-year-old Nicky had thought that was a wonderful thing, but after six months she’d started to crave some downtime. Time when they could just be comfortable together. She’d started to wish for a dominant and submissive relationship where the different roles underscored their relationship like music, not smothered it like a wool blanket.
It would be different with Jackson. She could just feel it. Sitting across from him at the breakfast table already felt achingly familiar. They’d never had the chance to live together, just the two of them, but this is how she’d always dreamed it would be. Hell, it was even better than she’d dreamed it would be. In her younger fantasies, she hadn’t known how much she craved the thrill of submitting to a dominant man or guessed that her first love would grow up to be her dream guy.
Of course, she should have known. Jackson had always been a total knight in shining armor, the kind of brave, confident, caring man who seemed extinct in modern times. Even in the BDSM club scene it was rare to find a man in possession of himself the way Jack was. A lot of crazies who lacked the personality or finesse to win a woman in the “real world” assumed they could come into a club and find a docile little submissive to put up with all their crap. A real dom was a damn hard thing to find.
“So how did you get into the scene anyway?” Nicky asked, not realizing she’d propped her toes on the edge of Jackson’s chair until he took a foot in hand and began to run his thumbs along her instep. “Breakfast and a foot rub? I must have been a very good girl.”
He laughed softly under his breath. “You were.”
“I tried to use the shower nozzle last night. I wasn’t planning on obeying that last order of yours,” Nicky said, the confession spilling from her lips before she could think better of it. The compulsion to be honest with Jack was just too strong. No matter what her rational mind had to say about it, her inner sub wanted to turn over control to this man, to trust him with every thought, every secret.
He didn’t pause in his massaging of her feet for a moment, but Nicky saw the muscle in his jaw get tight. “So what changed your mind?”
“My body did.” He raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue. “I couldn’t come without your permission.”
“You couldn’t come?” he asked, sounding more curious than angry.
“I physically couldn’t. And I tried, believe me.” She bit her lip as she set her empty coffee cup back on the table. “But a part of me wanted to please you too much.”
Jackson just stared at her for a few minutes, his dark eyes unreadable. When he finally spoke, his silky dom voice was back in full effect. “I think that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah?” she asked, a part of her hoping he’d prove it by tackling her to the floor of the kitchen and showing her just how hot he was.
But he only smiled, and then he turned his attention back to her feet. “Yeah.”
“Well. . . I try,” Nicky said, ignoring the heat pooling in her belly. She couldn’t be ready for more already. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d come so hard she was sure she’d done herself damage. “So are you going to tell me how you got into the scene or not?”
“My first girlfriend after I moved to Vegas was interested in checking out this dungeon they had going at the edge of town. She said she always had fantasies about getting chained to a wall by a man wearing black leather.”
“Sounds fun.”
Jackson laughed. “She thought so, too, until she was all strapped in. Then she couldn’t get out of her restraints or that club fast enough. Turns out the BDSM scene wasn’t for her. But I liked it just fine.”
“Yeah, some people just want to have the fantasy, not actually act it out.” Nicky squirmed slightly in her chair, finding it damned difficult to consider Jackson’s foot rub relaxing instead of arousing. “Never had that problem myself. When I first discovered the BDSM clubs in L.A., I wanted to live there all the time. Twenty-four-seven.”
“I can imagine.”
“Can you?” She grinned.
“You’re excited right now. Aren’t you? After we spent half the night and all morning playing, you still want more.”
Nicky’s smile faded as she nodded her head. Within seconds her breath grew faster and her pussy wet simply from watching the heat flare in Jackson’s eyes.
“You just can’t get enough, can you?” he asked, continuing when Nicky shook her head again. “So why don’t you take that shirt off. I have something I want you to put on while we finish talking.”
Nicky’s hands were trembling by the time she stripped her nightshirt off and threw it to the ground, amazed that the moment had gone from comfortable to erotic so quickly. It was incredibly arousing. . . almost as arousing as the sight of what Jackson had fished from the kitchen drawer.
“I didn’t think to bring my nipple clamps, but I think these will work just fine.” Jackson knelt in front of her, setting the clothespins on the table before placing his hands lightly on her hips. “Would you like me to put those on your tits?”
“Yes.” Her tits were already aching at the very idea, her nipples drawing into tight points despite the warmth of the room. “Very much.”
“I thought you would.” Jackson held her eyes as he lowered his mouth to her chest, capturing one aching tip in his mouth. He suckled her gently at first, teasing her with the tip of his tongue, swirling around and around the taut bud until Nicky’s eyes slid closed on a moan.
“Open your eyes, watch me while I suck my tits,” he said, his words sending a jolt of arousal sizzling along her nerves, and more heat pooling between her thighs. “And don’t move until I give you permission.”
Nicky met Jackson’s eyes again as he plucked one of the clothespins from the table and attached it to her nipple. The pinching sensation only intensified her desire, the pain and pleasure fusing together to create an arousing sensation more powerful than either one alone.
Jackson waited until she regained a measure of control over her rapid breathing before transferring his attention to her other breast, licking, sucking, and biting, driving her mad with the need to move. It was hellish work not to squirm in her seat, not to thread her fingers through Jackson’s hair and hold on for dear life. But she wanted his approval, and the pleasure— which she had no doubt he would give her as a reward for her obedience— far more than the small relief movement would afford.
“Good, so good.” Jackson breathed the words against her breast, then flicked his tongue out across her nipple one last time, making her gasp. He attached the second clothespin, his own breath coming faster when she moaned. “So, what have you been doing for the past two years? Why did you quit modeling?”
“Do we really have to talk anymore?” she asked, her voice thin and strained.
“I think we should give the clamps some time, don’t you?” His calm tone and the relaxed way he reclaimed his chair would have been enough to make her scream if his excitement hadn’t been abundantly obvious. The front of his pajama pants were tented where his erection strained the fabric.
Nicky could see the outline of the bulbous head of his cock through the thin material and it was enough to make her mouth water. She wanted his cock back in her mouth. She wanted to suck him until he cried out in that way that made her positive no one had ever given him the kind of pleasure she had.
She wanted to swallow down every last drop of his cum and then keep sucking him until he was hard again, until he pulled his thick length from her mouth and shoved it between her legs. There wouldn’t be any foreplay aside from the nipple clamps, but she knew she’d be wet. Though hopefully not wet enough to ease his passage too much. She loved the slight hint of pain as he forced himself inside her the first time. The resistance of her body, the sting as he demanded entrance, took her halfway to orgasm in the initial thrust.
“What the hell are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.
“How much I want to suck your cock.” Nicky met his eyes, but didn’t move an inch from her present position, determined to show him she could be a good little sub and a naughty one all at the same time. “I was thinking about how hot it felt to have your hand fisted in my hair, to feel you fucking my mouth.”
“What about your ass? Would you like my cock in your ass?”
“We’d need lube,” she said, her pussy getting even wetter despite the fact that anal had been her least favorite activity with her ex. Somehow, she knew that would be as different with Jackson as everything else. “But I want you to fuck me any way you want. I want you to use me for your pleasure in every filthy way you can imagine.”
“Would that turn you on?”
“Yes.” The word came out as not much more than a moan as she imagined Jackson forcing her to her hands and knees and taking her in the ass. She could practically hear him calling her his little slut, feel his large hand landing stinging slaps to her bottom as his cock stroked deep inside her. “And I’d. . . I’d like you to spank me while you fuck me.”
“Spank you, and call you my dirty girl?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees until his lips were only inches away from her mouth. “My little whore?”
“Yes. Please, yes.” Nicky swept her tongue across her lips, her entire body screaming with the need to be touched, with the need to throw her arms around Jackson and never let him go.
“Why do you like to hear those words from a man, Nicky?” he asked, his eyes drifting to her lips.
“I don’t like to hear them from a man. I like to hear them from you.”
“You didn’t like your husband to—”
“No, I didn’t,” she said, the sound of the word “husband” on Jackson’s lips making her ill. God, but she couldn’t wait for the day when Derrick would no longer hold that title. “He would say them, but I never got off on it the way I did with you last night.”
“Why?” He moved one hand to her face, tracing a soft finger along her jaw. “Why is it different with me?”
“I don’t know. . . I guess. . .” For the third time in less than a day, tears threatened at the backs of her eyes.
There was just something about being with Jack that turned her inside out, that pushed her to wander the edges of her own emotional landscape. It was what she’d always heard a good dom would do, but she’d never been there, never been forced to look into another person’s eyes and know they were seeing straight through to the core of her.
But here she was and there was the answer to his question, floating to the front of her awareness. “I like it because. . . I know you don’t really mean it. That, to you, it’s almost a compliment.”
“It is a compliment.” He nodded. “What else?”
“I know you wouldn’t say it to just anyone, so it makes me feel special.”
“And why wouldn’t I say it to just anyone?” he asked, his lips moving closer to hers, so close she was certain he would kiss her, but he stopped when there were still a few inches between them. “Why would I only say it to you?”
“Because. . .” Nicky sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears, refusing to let the liquid pooling in her eyes spill down her cheeks no matter how scary and emotional this moment had become. “Because you love me?”
“I do. So much.”
Nicky started crying then, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was full-on sobbing as Jackson pressed a soft kiss to her lips and pulled her into his arms, tears rolling down the cheeks she pressed into his chest as he carried her across the room.