Chapter Five
009
Nicky watched Jackson turn onto the narrow road leading up to his cabin with a strange mix of anticipation and dread.
The anticipation part, of course, was pretty easy to understand. No matter what Jack said about a continued sexual relationship being a bad idea, she had no doubt she’d be able to change his mind. He wanted her— badly. It was clear in every heated glance he shot her way, in the tense lines of his body as he guided the truck down the twisting mountain roads. A quickie against the side of his truck wasn’t going to be enough.
He was going to start jonesing for more than some friendly chat over a few beers and, when that happened, she would be ready to take advantage of the situation. She hadn’t had sex in two years and she’d never experienced anything close to the pleasure Jackson had given her. But that wasn’t why she had to risk the emotional fallout that could result from getting too close to this man who still had the ability to affect her like no other.
She had to get close to Jackson for one reason and one reason only— to gain her freedom. The man still cared about her, that had been obvious when he’d tried to explain why he needed to modify her tattoo. And that care was going to be her ticket out of this cabin with her angel looking exactly the way it had since she was sixteen years old. A little sex, a little submission, and a little conversation between two old friends, and Jackson would be convinced he had to let her go. He wouldn’t be able to force her to do anything if he was falling in love with her again.
And that was where the dread came in. She’d already hurt him once. What would he do when he found out she’d been faking some lovey-dovey act to gain her freedom?
Nothing. Because you’ll tell him you’ll go to the police.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes. You’ll want to put your shoes on,” Jack said, his voice nearly a whisper, as if he was loath to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between them.
Nicky leaned over and began strapping herself into her heels, ignoring the little thrill obeying even his smallest request gave her. Jackson was wrong. She wasn’t a pushy bottom. She lived for the freedom of giving herself to a man who could handle her, and never had any urge to dominate. She wasn’t a switch, she was a sub, through and through. But now wasn’t the time or the place and Jackson certainly wasn’t the man.
It wasn’t just her history with Derrick that made it hard to let go. Knowing what Jack had in mind for this weekend didn’t help matters any. She couldn’t afford to abandon herself to him completely, not when the one thing he truly wanted to demand of her was something she couldn’t give.
The tattoo had to stay looking exactly as it always had if she wanted to get back into modeling for Good and Trashy Lingerie. And she had to get back into modeling. Tending bar at the Hard Way was never going to make her enough money to fight Derrick in court, let alone provide for the future. Being a single mother was hard enough, but being a single mother in a city like L.A. was even harder. Everything cost more than it had when she was growing up in a small town, and she was going to need a sizable income to make sure Abby never wanted for anything.
And Nicky didn’t want to be dependent on Derrick for a dime. She wanted sole custody of their daughter and preferably a restraining order keeping him at least ten miles away from them both at all times. Her ex had never hit her or the baby, but he was an emotionally abusive sociopath and the last man who should be entrusted with the care of a child. Especially an infant.
It was enough to make her physically ill every time she thought about Abby going to sleep in the same house as that bastard. She had to get her daughter back, even if it meant fighting the man who had made two years of her life a living hell. Even if it meant risking Derrick following through with his threats that he would kill their baby girl before letting her be raised by “a whore like you, Nicole.”
Nicky closed her eyes and swallowed hard, forcing away the memory of her ex’s voice screaming those words as he’d taken Abby away. She still didn’t know how he’d found them. She’d paid the rent for her new apartment in cash, and even given the landlord fake names for her and Abby. But still, Derrick had somehow tracked her and their eleven-month-old down and made it very clear the lengths he would go to in order to maintain control over at least one of the women in his life.
“This is it. It’s not big, but it’s well insulated so we won’t freeze our asses off,” Jackson said as they turned the last corner and a small cabin came into view.
He was right, it wasn’t big, but even with nothing more than headlights and the porch light to view it by, Nicky could see it was gorgeous. Beautiful redwood planks were accented with white trim, making the cabin look like something out of a fairy tale.
“I don’t know about that. My ass is already half frozen,” Nicky said, affecting a light tone, knowing she had to stop thinking about Derrick or Abby and focus on the immediate problem of getting away from Jackson with her tattoo intact. “It would have been nice to know ahead of time I’d be doing the whole winter climate thing. I could have brought my flannel pajamas.”
“Hmmm, flannel pajamas. Sounds sexy.”
“You have no idea. They’re bright red with pirates and parrots and buried treasure on them,” Nicky said, amazed at the tingle of awareness that swept over her skin just from hearing Jack say the word “sexy.” A weekend spent seducing this man certainly wasn’t going to be a hardship. “I think they’re technically supposed to be for little boys, but as soon as I saw them, I knew they had to be mine.”
“Well, I didn’t have the creativity to think of something that fascismashing, but I did bring a few things for you to wear.”
“Fascismashing?” She laughed, a real laugh that surprised her more than it should have. Jackson had always been funny in his own, rather dry, way.
“I think it’s a cross between fascinating and smashing.” He laughed, too, though a little self-consciously. “It’s something my office manager says all the time. It was added to my vocabulary against my will, I promise.”
“I don’t know what’s more disturbing, hearing you say a word like ‘fascismashing’ or learning you brought me clothes.” Nicky watched Jackson closely as he parked the truck. “You really thought this whole kidnapping thing through, didn’t you?”
He was silent, but Nicky deliberately refused to take the hint.
“How long have you been planning to do this?”
“A few weeks,” he said, all traces of humor vanishing from his tone. He was embarrassed, she could tell. He knew what he was doing was crazy. Hopefully that meant getting him to give up on this whacked plan would be relatively easy.
“Should I be freaked out? I mean, have you turned homicidal maniac on me in the past eight years?” she asked, a part of her thrilling to see Jackson’s expression grow stormy.
He was wrong about the pushy bottom thing. She didn’t want to have control, but she did like to test the man who thought he could top her. When she and Derrick had first gotten together, it had been one of the things that he’d loved about her, that she didn’t make it easy for him and would only be a good little sub if he was in top dom form.
But oh, how quickly he’d stopped finding anything lovable about her once she’d gotten pregnant. She’d gone from being an object of fascination to a thing of revulsion in less than a few weeks. Long before she’d begun to show, Derrick confessed how revolting he found pregnant women, and that he doubted he’d ever be attracted to Nicky again. It was ironic in the extreme, as Nicky herself had never felt sexier than when she first found out she was going to have a baby. She’d spent those first few months both unbearably aroused and horribly hurt as she realized her husband no longer wanted anything to do with her— in the bedroom or out.
“If you want to press charges against me when we leave here,” Jackson said, “I won’t do anything to stop you. If that’s what you’re wondering.”
“So you won’t kill me and bury my body in the woods?” Nicky tried to laugh, but she suddenly wasn’t finding the situation funny.
No matter how well she had once known Jack, she didn’t know shit about him now. After all, she’d once believed Derrick was her dom in shining black leather, the man she’d be with for the rest of her life. When they’d first married, she wouldn’t have imagined anything could tear them apart, or that the man she worshipped could so quickly become a monster she despised.
Even if she was right and Jackson did still love her, who was to say he didn’t have the same capacity for cruelty? If so, it would certainly prove that she should never date again. Her taste in men was decidedly lethal.
“Look at me,” Jackson said, waiting patiently until she did so. “I would never hurt you. Do you believe I’m telling the truth?”
Nicky looked deep into those dark brown eyes, the eyes of the first boy she had ever loved, of the best friend she’d regretted losing for eight years. And for a second, she was fourteen again— lost and afraid, putting on her best tough-girl act while inside she felt she was going to shatter into a million pieces at any moment. Those eyes, and the kind, loving boy they belonged to, were the only things that had gotten her through the day.
No matter what madness had made him formulate this plan to alter her tattoo, Jack was still that boy deep down. He would still die before he hurt her, still risk the fists of their foster father or worse to keep her safe.
“I know you are,” Nicky whispered, willing the tears she felt pricking at the backs of her eyes not to fall. She wasn’t going to cry over old memories. The past was the past, and she had to concentrate on the future and her little girl. Nothing else mattered.
“Good.” Jackson held her gaze, for a second looking near to tears himself, but then a friendly smile spread across his face, making her think she had imagined that moment of vulnerability. “Then let’s get inside and I’ll find something to cover that frozen ass of yours.”
As he exited the vehicle Nicky did her best to pull herself together and figure out the first step in her plan. She believed Jackson didn’t want to harm her, but he was still dead set on finishing the mission he’d set for himself. And Jack was nothing if not stubborn. It was going to take a good deal of persuasion to convince him to change his mind, and she didn’t have a lot of time. It was already nearly Saturday morning and she only had until Sunday afternoon. She was going to have to launch operation Sex Jackson Into Forgetting He Even Owns a Tattoo Gun as soon as possible.
Hmmm. . . well, there was no time like the present.
Nicky watched Jack walk around and grab a large suitcase from the back before she opened her own door and stepped out into the cold night.
“Shheeeeiiiit!” she squealed and ran as fast as her high-heeled feet could carry her to the door of the cabin. It was freezing cold up here on the mountaintop. The wind cut through what few clothes she was wearing, making her feel like she was naked in a snowstorm.
She dashed inside as soon as Jackson opened the door, grateful that the cabin’s heat had already been running.
Thank god it hadn’t been as cold when she and Jackson had pulled over for their quickie, or even two years without sex wouldn’t have been enough to convince her to bang out in the elements. And it was for the best that they had that first encounter out of the way. He’d already let his guard down and done something he freely admitted he hadn’t intended to do. Now it would only take a little push to get them back in bed together. . . if the cabin had a bed.
“This is gorgeous,” Nicky said, covertly scanning the small space as Jackson went around turning on lights and cranking up the heat.
Just inside the entrance there was a small kitchen to her left that opened out into a cozy living room area. A comfy-looking sectional filled nearly every inch of the carpet, angled so that it faced both the fireplace in the corner and the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out across a valley and the dark face of another mountain. It seemed the cabin was built right on the side of a cliff, which usually would have been enough to give her a case of the shakes. She wasn’t a big fan of heights, but for some reason she felt safe here.
It was Jackson. He’d always had a way of making her feel safe, apparently even when he was the thing she had to worry about.
“Thanks. I designed it, with the help of a friend of mine.” He finished with the lights and came back to fetch the suitcase he’d left by the door. “The bedrooms are upstairs.”
Nicky followed him, finally noticing the circular staircase that was hidden behind the bathroom to their right. Jackson had no trouble navigating the narrow stair, even with his bulk and carrying a massive suitcase, but Nicky stumbled twice in her heels. She told herself it was just her normal klutziness coming through, but the truth was, she was nervous.
Touching herself in a dark car or succumbing to maddening lust and leaping out for a quickie on the side of the road was one thing. But starting something from nothing, especially with a man who suddenly seemed all business, was something else entirely.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to give you the smaller room. It has a great view of the gorge, and you’ll have to come through my room if you decide to make a break for it in the middle of the night,” he said, tossing a friendly smile over his shoulder.
“And I suppose you still sleep light,” she said, finding the entire situation oddly amusing again. But then, if given the choice between fear and funny, she knew which one she preferred.
“I wake up if a pinecone drops outside,” he said, tramping through a decidedly masculine master bedroom, into a bathroom, and through a door to another bedroom decorated in deep pinks and bright greens. Those had been her favorite colors in high school, and for a second Nicky wondered if Jack had remembered.
“My interior decorator made all the decisions for the furniture and fabrics.” He set the suitcase down on the floral bedspread and opened it. “Hope this isn’t too girly for you. I know you’re not a big fan of flowers.”
“No, it’s beautiful. Much nicer than what I’ve got on my bed at my apartment. Watch out or I might steal the bedspread when we leave.”
“You can have it,” he said, turning to her with a dead-serious expression on his face. “Hell, you can have the entire cabin and the fifteen grand I’ve got in the cupboard downstairs. All I want to do is work on that tat.”
Nicky sighed, tempted for a moment. Fifteen grand would pay for a lot of legal advice and jump-start her and Abby’s new life, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to take Jackson up on his offer. She’d meant what she’d said in the car— she believed the tattoo was vital to resuscitating her flagging career— but there was something more to her reluctance. The tattoo meant a lot to her, always had and always would. It reminded her of a time when she’d felt truly loved, like the most important thing in the world to one boy.
“Come on, Nick,” Jackson urged, as if he sensed her hesitation. “Don’t make me use force.”
“But you’re a dom, right? Don’t you enjoy using force?” It was now or never, time to get Jackson thinking about her skin in a way that had nothing to do with ink. Holding his dark eyes, she moved her hands to her shirt, undoing the buttons one by one.
“What are you doing?” His tone was casual, but his every muscle was tense as he put his hands on his hips and moved a step away from the suitcase.
“I like force, myself. If it’s used properly.” She slid the shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as she began working on the front of her bra, her own excitement building so fast it made her head swim. Damn, but she was going to have to be careful or she was going to get in way over her head. “I like to be forcibly restrained.”
“Nicky, stop.”
“I like to be forced over a man’s knee and spanked.” Her hands shook as she fumbled with the button and zipper on her skirt and her pussy gushed fresh heat onto her panties. Just thinking about being turned over Jackson’s knee, feeling his strong hands reddening her ass, his fingers slipping between her legs to see how wet his punishment had made her, made her entire body ache.
“I’ll tell you one more time. Stop.” Wow. He’d whipped out the silky dom voice, so deep and commanding, promising retribution if she continued to disobey. It was nearly enough to make her come without him laying a finger on her.
“I like to feel a hand fisting in my hair, forcing my head back as I get fucked from—”
He moved so quickly that, afterward, Nicky couldn’t even remember seeing him move. He was simply across the room one minute and slamming her into the wall the next, every inch of his hard body pressed tightly against hers, his lips claiming her mouth in a bruising kiss that made her bones melt.
Oh. Hell. Yeah.
Looks like they wouldn’t be making it to the bed after all, but Nicky sure wasn’t going to complain. This was exactly the way she wanted the night to end. In Jackson’s arms, getting ready for a second helping of the kind of pleasure she knew she’d never get enough of.
But you will get enough. And then you’ll get the hell away from him and get your life back on track.
The voice of reason. What a pale, sad little thing that was when a man like Jackson was slipping his hand between her legs, shoving his fingers up and inside where she was already desperate for him to be.