Trying the Knot Read online

  "I don't know about that," Jackson murmured.

  "I do know about that," Holt said firmly. "You can stay as long as you want as long as you train my horses."

  Jackson laughed and the mood shifted.

  They finished their dinner then indulged in some of the restaurant's famous ice cream cookies. Emily had the caramel banana and Jackson had the white chocolate macadamia. Kendra had the chocolate chip cookie and split it with Holt. If she wasn't so familiar with Kendra's behaviors she would think they were hitting it off. Emily really hoped Holt realized he was striking out, she thought with an internal giggle.

  Holt grabbed the check before anyone else could. "It has been my pleasure to join you."

  As they walked out of the cool restaurant and into the heat of the city, Emily thought she felt the brush of Jackson's fingers along her back but when she glanced behind, his hands were shoved into his jeans pockets. Emily found herself wishing he would touch her.

  Holt had driven a huge maroon four-door dually into the city and offered to give them a ride home. Emily found herself reluctant to part ways with them, so she agreed. She climbed into the back seat, right behind Jackson. Since she lived only a few blocks away so she was the first stop. Holt pulled the truck to the curb and waited while Jackson got out of the vehicle to open her door. She smiled, her heart warming. Jackson would always make sure the woman was taken care of.

  Her cheeks warmed as she thought about other things he had made sure she did first.

  Jackson leaned into the passenger side window. "Holt, can you swing back by after you drop Kendra off? I know it's out of your way."

  Holt waved a hand, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "I need to get fuel and stop by a drugstore, anyway. I'll be back in an hour."

  Jackson turned his gaze to her friend. "Thank you for the dinner invite, Kendra."

  "No problem, Jackson. Take care of my girl. Emily, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Emily waved but didn't really look at her because Jackson had taken her attention. He stood directly in front of her, gaze intense, hands at his sides. Neither noticed as the truck pulled away. "What did you think of, just now when you got out? What put that look on your face?"

  Emily cleared her throat and tried to look away, but Jackson caught her chin with a finger. Her eyes darted around, looking at the people on the street. There actually weren't that many, but she was embarrassed anyway. "Nothing."

  He tilted his head, the shade of his cowboy hat falling over her face. "I don't think it was nothing, Emily. Tell me."

  Sighing, she pulled her chin away. "The other night Neil wouldn't even get out to open my car door. It was one of the things on my list when we broke up."

  Jackson narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't think that would be enough to make you blush. Tell me the truth, Emily."

  She blinked, scowling, but knew she was going to give in. "It's just your way to always make sure I go first."

  The heat in her cheeks flared again and Jackson chuckled, understanding settling into his expression. "Oh, Emily. If you had any idea of the rush of pure heat you just sent through my body, you'd be running for the hills."

  They stared at each other for a long moment before she turned for the door. She was very conscious of him following her into the elevator and up to her floor, then down the hallway to her door. As she unlocked it, she could feel the heat of his body behind her, but it wasn't the uncomfortable sticky Houston heat. This was a heat to warm you on a cold night, the kind of heat that would spark in spite of all of the hardships in front of it. This was the determined heat of a man intent on a woman. And the responding heat of a woman that had been aroused beyond reason.

  Emily didn't know what to do. Her body had gone liquid, but it seemed wrong to just give in. She'd fought against him for so long, in spite of the need in her heart. If she capitulated now what would it do to their relationship, or did it even matter? Were they just destined to be together?

  Emily disappeared into the kitchen and pulled two large glasses of ice water. Jackson came in behind her and she handed him the glass.

  Looking up at him, her heart thudded in her chest. She’d had a crush on him ever since she’d been eleven years old. When their relationship had blossomed while she was in high school, she couldn't imagine anything better. And now she had a chance to expand on it even more. Jackson Windwalker was a man any woman would be proud to have.

  So why was she fighting it?

  "So, our schedule has changed," she said slowly. "Now that we've had dinner, what's the next step?"

  Jackson's lips twitched. "Well, I was hoping I would get to kiss you good night after we had our dinner. Would that be acceptable?"

  Before she could change her mind, she nodded yes, her breath coming faster. Jackson seemed intent on making her beg for his mouth, though, because he took his time. Dropping his hat to the marble island behind her, Jackson braced his arms around her body, pushing her back against the counter. Emily couldn’t seem to draw enough oxygen onto her lungs and her panting was causing her breasts to bounce. Jackson looked down the line of her chest and Emily could almost feel her breasts growing, hardening, beneath his gaze. What the hell was he waiting for?

  "This has to be your decision, Emily."

  Ah, ok.

  Lifting her face, she brushed her lips against his, then back again. Goosebumps chased across her skin as she reached up to stroke the line of his jaw with her fingertips. He had shaved recently because his skin was butter smooth, and she couldn't resist brushing her fingers over his cheeks and the straight blade of his nose. Then she circled his neck with her hand so that she could bury her fingers into his thick hair. It was bound into a braid, but there was enough room to run her fingers along his scalp.

  Jackson groaned when she scraped her nails against his skin and she felt a shudder roll through him. Then he was cupping her head in his hands and angling his mouth across hers. Emily lost herself in the taste of him, the feel of him. In a way, it was as familiar to her as breathing. Jackson had been her first lover and he had taught her to be the woman she was now.

  His hand cupped her breast, a nail scraping her nipple. Then he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, plucking it like a berry through the thin fabric of her top. Emily braced her hands on Jackson's chest, wondering how she could have even considered marrying Neil. He hadn't made her feel even a fraction of what Jackson made her feel.

  Then she realized she was lagging behind. She unsnapped the top button of Jackson's white shirt, finding the crisp black hair there. He wasn't an especially hairy man, just a bit on the chest leading in a trail to the heavier bit around the groin.

  Her breathing stuttered in her chest as she thought about exploring down that trail of hair. He'd been everything she could have hoped for as a lover. More, actually.

  What the hell.

  Emily cupped Jackson in her palm, moving her fingers over his length. Growling, Jackson arched into her touch, wedging her hand between their bodies. Then he buried his tongue into her mouth, showing her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

  Suddenly he drew back, shaking his head. "This wasn't how this was supposed to go. I wasn't going to rush you. I was going to give you time to get over your breakup and get used to me being around."

  Emily growled, feeling bereft though he'd only pulled away a few inches, just enough to put some space between them. "I don't need time. I know I'm over Neil. I don't think I was ever under him."

  Jackson's indigo eyes hardened as his gaze swung to her. "You better not have been," he growled, clutching her shoulders in his hands. He kissed her furiously, letting her know that even though it was a turn of phrase, he didn't appreciate the thought of her with Neil. Emily returned his kiss with softness and need, and his touch gentled. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her mouth. "I just can't..."

  She covered his lips with her own, shaking her head. "Don't think about it," she told him.

  Reaching out she unsnapped
more buttons down his front till both halves of his shirt hung open. She pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders, pausing to run her hands over his bunched deltoids, then down his biceps. Her fingers spanned half his arm. That was all.

  The white tank top he wore delineated his size rather than covered. Emily wished she could take a picture of him like this, because it was how she remembered him so many times over the years. The over-shirt would get to be too much in the heat so he would strip down to his undershirt. All the time. And the white fabric contrasted sharply—beautifully—with his burnt copper skin.

  Again, she reached out, this time to his belt buckle. Jackson gasped as she tugged the two halves apart, then started on his fly. Stilling her hands with his own, he brought them to his mouth to kiss her fingers. It took him a moment to speak and she could feel the faint tremor in his hands. "You are everything good and beautiful in my world, Emily. I don't want to screw this up by being too impatient. I've waited eleven years for you. I can wait a few more days or weeks."

  Her throat tightened as his words sank in. Eleven years? "No," she breathed. "Please tell me you've been with someone in the past eleven years."

  Jackson smiled a little crookedly. "I knew you'd be back in my arms eventually."

  Blinking through the sudden rush of moisture in her eyes, Emily leaned forward to wrap his neck in her arms. All over again she saw why Jackson was the most incredible man she'd ever met. No one else would have denied themselves that way. "Why?"

  He shrugged lightly. "No one else appealed to me. I knew I still loved you, even if you didn't love me. I was willing to wait for you to see me again. I had hoped that with all the wedding stuff going on you'd realize what you were missing out on."

  She laughed, even as tears rolled down her cheeks. Jackson was too good of a man for her. How could she have not seen how devoted he was to her?

  "I'm so sorry, Jackson."

  "No more apologies. They aren't necessary. I knew what I was doing."

  Emily leaned her forehead against his solid chest. He truly was the rock in her life, just like he'd said. "You're going to make me love you again, aren't you?"

  He chuckled against her and rocked her back and forth a bit. "Absolutely."

  Emily ached, both in heart and body. She shifted her hips. Her thighs were soaked because of him and arousal still rode her, in spite of the emotion she was dealing with. "I don't think I can let you go out of here without something, Jackson. I'm aching. And wet."

  She prayed that he remembered what he told her in the barn at the wedding shower. Apparently, he did because there was a flash of his bright smile as he leaned down enough to nibble at her neck. His right hand skimmed down her side, then her hip and thigh. There, clutching the fabric of her dress in his fist, he lifted it until he could touch the smooth skin beneath.

  It was strange what anticipation could do to a body. Emily flushed with a heat so hot it felt cold, like sitting on burning leather in the summertime and getting a shudder. Years past, they had played like this a lot before they went all the way. He would stroke her to orgasm with a single finger, then he would bury himself inside her, clutching her to him like he would shatter without her.

  And now, all these years later, as his hand glided over her skin toward her wet curls, the sensations were the same. Excitement, anxiety, fear they were going to be caught, yet a desire so hard that it couldn't be denied. She had to have him.

  Jackson's broad finger brushed against the gusset of her panties, and Emily stilled, praying he would delve deeper. Instead he brushed just the merest tip of his finger against her over-sensitized skin. The cotton of her panties had dampened with her arousal.

  Emily broadened her stance to make it easier for him to reach her, but she needn't have worried. Jackson was adept at teasing her any way he could. It was worth the journey, though, because he also gave her the most amazing pleasure. Even as she thought it his broad finger burrowed into her wet heat from the side of the fabric.

  "Oh, Em. You are drenched."

  She shuddered as his finger made a bold sweep through her wetness, leaving her throbbing. Emily tightened her muscles, encouraging the feeling, then he glided through again. And again. Faster and faster. His other hand cupped her opposite breast, rolling her nipple as he breathed kisses against the shell of her ear. Then that finger glided deeper and the breadth of his hand gripped her entire sex. His palm pressed against her swollen clit, circling. With a startled cry Emily lost herself in orgasm. Her knees went out from beneath her as pleasure rocked her. Her head rolled back on her neck and her world spun.

  When she could finally open her eyes, Jackson stood before her, broad face dark with arousal and his words came back to her. Eleven years he had waited for her. Eleven years of need and denial.

  Emily ripped her dress up over her head and tossed it away. Her panties were drenched, though, and tangled on her thighs. With a grunt, Jackson ripped them from her hips, then, looking down the line of her body he cupped her ass in his hands and lifted her up onto the marble island.

  Emily's body had rounded with maturity, and Jackson seemed unable to look away from her. "You are the beauty of a dewy sunrise to me, Em," he told her, as if he'd heard her anxieties in his mind.

  Emily kissed him, open-mouthed and hungry. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close so that her hands could go back to the fly of his jeans. Jackson cupped and thumbed her jiggling breasts as she worked, totally distracting her. Though he'd taken the edge off with the first orgasm, she needed more. They both did.

  When she finally found his erection, she could have cried knowing that relief was so near. Jackson stilled at her touch, then arched into her grip with a gasp. The jeans were still in the way though. Leaving his tempting length, she ran her hands around his waist to his ass, pushing the blue jeans and boxers down as much as she could. Then, using her legs again she pulled him close. His teeth were clenched as if he were fighting an internal battle.

  “Get rid of this,” she demanded, tugging at the tank top.

  Without a word Jackson ripped the thin cotton over his head and tossed it away. For the first time in years Emily had an unobstructed view of his hard body. It was everything she dreamed of and more. The years had hardened the muscles and given him a little more hair around the brown disks of his nipples. She brushed her fingers over his pectoral muscles and looked down.

  Jackson's cock was a beautiful thing, straining toward her as if it had an awareness of its own. And neither of them seemed unable to deny their need. Moving close, Jackson rested the head of his cock at her sodden opening. Fisting himself with one hand, veins straining in his arms, he moved the head up and down through her wetness. He'd forced Emily to find release like this before, but she didn't think he had the control to do it right now. She'd seen the pearls of excitement on his cock before he'd buried it in her curls, and she didn't want to deny him any longer.

  Rocking her hips closer to the edge of the island, she looked up into his eyes. "I want you inside me, Jackson."

  With both hands gripping her ass, he joined them in one hard thrust. Emily cried out, her body expanding to accommodate his. It had been a long time since they'd done this, but their bodies remembered. Thrusting hard, Jackson curled into her body, then retreated slowly. Emily gasped with the thrusts, because he seemed incapable of tempering his need. She could feel it building in him, and his desperation spurred her own. Another orgasm was building.

  Bracing her arms behind her, Emily wedged her hips into his thrusts that much harder.

  Jackson cried out, pulling her to him desperately to meet his thrusts.

  Oh, yeah... right there... oh, fuck...

  Emily's entire body shattered with her release, or at least that's what it felt like. Until Jackson came deep inside her, his hot warmth spreading through her lower body. With a lusty shout, he buried his face into her neck, clutching at her to stay on his feet. Instinctively, Emily wrapped her arms and legs around him as his body shuddered
and contracted as hard and as long as hers had.

  Emily lost her sense of time as they held each other, wedged awkwardly across the expanse of marble. Jackson found his legs first and straightened, but he didn't pull from her. Instead he helped her straighten, then lifted her off the counter, her thighs still clutched around his hips. Emily giggled as he shuffled out of the kitchen, jeans around his ankles, muscles straining as he kept their balance.

  "What are you doing?" she gasped, loving the feel of him wedged inside and against her.

  "I'm not done," he told her softly.

  Incredibly he seemed to be staying hard inside her. Didn't it normally take men at least ten minutes to recover, or something like that? Emily tightened her pelvic muscles and he staggered to a stop. "Do that again," he demanded. She did, wriggling her hips, and he shut his eyes, savoring. Then, blinking, he continued on to the bedroom. Finally separating their bodies, he dropped her to the bed unceremoniously. Emily let out a cry as she was suddenly bereft of his touch.

  Jackson paused to look at her with her thighs spread wide and wet. "You are so beautiful to me."

  Then he kicked off his boots and shucked his jeans and boxers. By the time he crawled over top of her he was achingly hard again, and still wet from his first release. Emily reached down and encircled his length with her hand, thumb running over the slit in the crown. Jackson flexed in her hand and braced his hands on her spread knees.

  "How long do we have before Holt comes back?" she asked, breathless.

  "I don't know and I don't care," he told her savagely. "He can wait in the truck till next Monday for all I care."

  Emily grinned, then gasped as he reached down to circle her clit with the pad of his thumb. With a few deliberate touches he had re-stoked her fire and she was as ready for him as the first time, squirming on the bed in time with his touches.

  Jackson guided his cock into her depths and Emily gasped. This was a completely new feeling from before. Oh, damn he was going to go deep, this way. Bracing his hands over her head, Jackson looked down into her eyes as he plunged into her. His body moved sinuously, grinding against her clit as he rode her into the mattress. When his lids slid down over his eyes and his teeth gritted, she knew he was close.