Authors: Elizabeth McMahen
Chapter Three
By the time we made it back home Brett had shut up. Someone had sent him a text that pissed him off and he turned his anger on them instead of me. I sighed, as I took off my coat and walked up the flights of stairs to my bedroom. Nights like these made me grateful that Brett insisted on us sleeping in separate beds. It seemed odd to me when he first suggested it when we got married, but I understood all too well now. He’d made excuses about being a light sleeper or something, but I knew now that the real reason had less to do with his sleeping tendencies and more to do with his need for secrecy.
I knew how he spent his nights meeting with this criminal or that criminal taking bribes to turn a blind eye to whatever they had going on. I laughed to myself as I put on my night clothes, imagining how clueless Brett thought I was about his secrets. I knew all of his secrets, and I had plenty of leverage to use against him once the time came. I’d use every piece of information I knew to make sure that once I divorced him, he would never contact me, or see me again. I had to be honest with myself though, I had my doubts about Brett’s ability to let me go quietly. He may not feel anything for me anymore, but I was a chess piece that he wanted to keep on the board.
I remembered then, a light bulb moment, the note that Jackson had slipped me. I race frantically back to my closet and to my coat. I dug through the pocket and my fingers brushed the paper. I snatched it up, clutched it in my fist, and raced back to my bed. I glanced at my phone on the nightstand and grabbed it, too. Once I was situated in the bed, propped up by pillows, I huffed out a breath and stared at the paper in my hand. I was dying to find out what it said, but this paper felt like a leap into the unknown. OK. I could do this. I opened the paper and stared at the words for a second, my brain not registering.
Text me.
Under the words was a phone number, his phone number. I squealed quietly out loud, excited and nervous. Why did he want to talk to me? Whatever he wanted to say, it was too much or too private to risk Brett seeing it. I snatched up my phone, unlocked it and opened up a new text message. I entered his number and then paused. What should I say? I decided to go for simple.
Me: Hello
I jumped when my phone dinged less than a minute later.
Jackson: Lily, it was lovely meeting you.
I was stumped. I knew he didn’t want me to text him just so that we could exchange meaningless pleasantries. I was feeling bolder than usual when I sent my reply.
Me: I know you want to talk about more than just how nice it was to meet me. What do you want?
I waited nervously for his response. This response was taking longer than the one before. Either he was at a loss for words or he was typing a lot. I bit my lip and groaned. Why did I have to choose that moment to act like myself? I didn’t know this man, maybe he was the type to take offense. I hoped not, I didn’t want him to ruin the image of him I had in my head.
Jackson: I want to know what you’re doing with a man like Brett Wright. I saw the bruises on your arm. Do you need help?
I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. He wanted to rescue me. I had to admit to being a little disappointed. Did he see me as a damsel in distress?
Me: I can handle Brett. He doesn’t hit me, just yells a lot. He just gripped my arm a little too tight.
Jackson: Don’t make excuses for him, Lily. There is no excuse for his mistreatment.
Me: I stopped making excuses for him the first time I saw pictures of his latest whore.
I couldn’t believe I just typed that and sent it. I felt compelled to be honest with Jackson. I knew somehow that he would be able to detect any lie I told.
Jackson: So you do know about them. I wondered.
Me: I would have to be a blind idiot not to. He flaunts them. I get the feeling he is disappointed when I don’t acknowledge them.
Jackson: He likes to imagine that he has all the power in your relationship. He can’t abide the thought that he has no power over you.
Me: How do you know that?
Jackson: I’ve known a lot of men just like him. He needs to be in control and the smartest person in the room.
He pinned the nail on the head with that statement. Jackson had some insight into Brett’s character but I thought that Jackson was revealing a bit about himself, too. Jackson seemed to be in control all the time too. Why else would he presume to tell me how to handle my own husband?
Me: I imagine you do know a lot of men like him. I wonder if you are one yourself.
Jackson: There is a difference between control and the illusion of control. Maybe I will give you a demonstration sometime. The difference between Brett Wright and me, is that if you were my wife you wouldn’t spend your nights in a separate bedroom.
I was stunned. How could he possibly know that Brett and I didn’t sleep together?
Me: How do you know that? Have you been spying on us?
Jackson: I do extensive research about anyone I consider any association with. I knew a week ago that I would never trust Brett Wright, and that I had to meet you.
I could feel the flush heat in my cheeks when I read his message. I buried my head in the pillows and moaned. His words filled me with a warmth and tingle of anxiousness. He was beautiful and smart, of course I’d want to know more, but should I go there? Jackson Hart was trouble with a capital T. My world was tilted on it’s axis the moment my eyes met his, but I had a choice to make. I knew where this conversation would lead. He wanted me, he’d all but said it with his last text. Jackson was a powerful man with questionable business connections. Everything I knew about him was conjecture, but could I handle learning about him and indulging my own desires? What if the things I found weren’t what I wanted to see? What if he was a murderer as well as a criminal?
I guess I’d gone too long without responding, because he sent me another text.
Jackson: Don’t over think it Lily. I know that you want this just as much as I do. You’re as drawn to me as I am to you. Yes, you’re married technically, but you and I both know that he isn’t worth worrying over.
He’d misunderstood my silence. I wasn’t worried at all about Brett. I didn’t care about the affect an affair with Jackson Hart would have on him. I was worried what he would do to me, to my heart. I picked up my phone and re-read our conversation again. He was taking a risk by even talking to me, like this. Something he’d seen in me made him brave enough to take that risk. He thought I was worth the effort, and time. How could I do any less for him?
Me: I want to see you again.
Jackson: You will, that I can promise you. Goodnight sweet, Lily.
Me: Goodnight, Jackson Hart.
I sat my phone back on my nightstand and collapsed in a heap on my bed. What had I gotten myself in to? I had doubts, so many doubts about him and having an affair with him, but I was miserable living the way I was. I deserved to find some kind of happiness even if it was just sex with a gorgeous man I didn’t know anything about.
He better be really good in bed.
Chapter Four
I was sitting alone in my living room a week later when my phone dinged with a new message. Brett was spending the night at the office working on a big case. I had a feeling it had something to do with Jackson Hart. Brett was pissed that Jackson didn’t want to make some kind of deal with him to turn a blind eye, so he’d set out to take him down. If I cared about my husband, I would have warned him that going after a man like Jackson was a bad idea, but I didn’t. He could tilt at windmills if he wanted to. It kept him out of the house and away from me and that was a gift.
I opened my phone and smiled when I read the text.
Jackson: Come outside.
I looked down at the clothes I was wearing a cotton tunic, leggings, and I shrugged. I didn’t know what he had planned but I could guess that what I was wearing wasn’t going to matter.
I grabbed my coat and keys and went outside. I locked the door and walked down the steps to the car waiting at the curb. The door was opened for my by the driver and I smiled at him, murmuring my thanks. Jackson was waiting in the car. His suit jacket was beside him on the seat and his tie was loose.
“Brett is working late tonight.” He said, looking at me with eyes full of heat.
“Yes. He will be there all night.” I blushed a little.
We both knew what we were doing. We’d texted several times over the last week, each message a little racier than the last. I’d never sent messages like that to anyone before, but Jackson brought out something sultry in me. He made me feel sexy and wanted.
“Would you like to have dinner with me, at my place?” He asked, but I knew we both knew the answer.
I nodded, biting my lip. I didn’t know how to do this. I felt jittery and nervous. What if Brett caught us? I knew I didn’t want to make him that angry. He didn’t pay a lot of attention to me lately, and I hoped he wouldn’t start now. He stopped giving me tasks to do to help him with cases. I guessed being the new DA had it’s perks. I’d had a lot of time on my hands, and lots of time to think about what I wanted to do with myself. Jackson Hart was a thought that appeared far too often in my head. Maybe once I slept with him and gave in to my curiosity, I could forget about him. I reminded myself over and over again that sex was all this was about. Men didn’t think the way women did. He saw a woman he wanted to fuck, and that was it. The romantic in me wanted it to be more than that, but I was weary of giving away my heart again, especially to a man that was as dangerous as Jackson Hart. I didn’t know what he did, and I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want that kind of knowledge to affect the way I viewed him. It was stupid of me, but I wanted to enjoy this affair for what it was, a chance to be a woman again. I wanted to be sexy and brave.
“Don’t think so hard, Lily. He’s not going to find out. I’ve got eyes on him and they’ll call me if he goes home.” Jackson leaned over to me and brushed his fingers over my cheek, pushing the riot of curls away from my face.
“OK. Sorry. I’ve just never done anything like this before.” I felt shy and uncertain.
What if the desire I felt for him didn’t translate into real chemistry? I didn’t want to disappoint him by being terrible in bed. Maybe I sucked at having sex and that’s why Brett starting sleeping with other women.
I tried to spend the rest of the ride to his house, thinking of things other than how bad I might be in bed. I thought about all the things that he’d said to me in texts. The sexy things he said he’d like to do to me. We hadn’t even kissed yet, and I was trembling with nerves and anticipation. He was suck an innately sexy man. The way he leaned back in the seat of the car with his hand tracing patterns on my thigh. The smallest touch of his hands on me made me tingle. Oh, how I wanted him to slide his hand up my leg so that he could ease the ache he’d created. I’d never been turned on so easily by such a small seemingly insignificant caress. I closed my eyes and moved restlessly. This was the longest car ride of my life.
I became aware then of his fingers, trailing their way up to my center. I watched as he parted my thighs and slipped his had down the front of my leggings. He barely brushed the pads of his fingers against my clit. I sighed and shifted trying to push him into moving faster than he wanted to. He chuckled softly at my eagerness and admonished me to be still.
“I’m in charge of your pleasure.” He said. “Do everything I tell you and you’ll be rewarded for good behavior. If you decide to ignore my commands and move without my permission, I will make you sit through dinner before finally giving you the orgasm you so desire.”
I nodded, knowing that it was going to be nearly impossible to be still, especially with his fingers stilled so close to the place I wanted him to touch. I was already panting for him and he’d barely done anything at all. Clearly my fears about our passion fizzling out were unfounded.
I couldn’t suppress the sigh of pleasure as he finally moved his fingers. He touched me so softly and delicately that it drove me closer to becoming unhinged and moving though he told me not to. I wanted the orgasm he’d promised, but it was so hard to be still when his movements felt so good. It was a delicious kind of torture. I wanted to yell at him to stop and to keep going all at the same time.
I clenched my eyes shut and clenched all the muscles in my body when he slid the first finger into me. I moaned when he moved it, pulling it out and then back in. His palm pressed against my clit adding a pressure that left me making more noise and fighting the need to buck my hips. He added a second finger and ran them both over the super sensitive spot inside of me. I felt a jolt of electricity that burned me from the inside out. His hand moved faster urging me higher, building me up so he could watch as I fell apart. Suddenly I was there on the precipice of fulfillment. I was running towards the edge of the cliff and then I was launched into the air, weightless and overwhelmed. I whispered his name as I was hit again and again by waves of intense pleasure. When the quaking stopped I was left trembling and clinging to his arm, unaware I’d ever grabbed it.