Corinne Michaels - Beloved

Looking over at me, he swallows and his shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, I have to go deal with this crap. I know we planned to go over some things at dinner, but …”

Wanting to relieve whatever turmoil he’s struggling with, and also understanding all too well the pressures of his position, I smile and place my hand on his arm. “No problem. I’m exhausted anyway. Today has been … overwhelming.”

His eyes look sad. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He gives me a small smile.

“No need, Jackson. Just go. What time is our meeting tomorrow?”

His eyes twinkle with mischief and his voice turns playful. “No meetings. I have other plans for us. Be ready by one o’clock.”

My eyes widen and I start to twist my hands as my heart races. Do I continue to fight this? There’s only one way this is going to end—badly—but I want to spend the day with him. I want to see if this is all my crazy imagination. I’m too tired to think anymore. I take a shaky breath and exhale. “Okay.” My brilliant plan to keep things strictly business just went out the door. I know I should spend tomorrow working or alone, but I can’t resist him.

“Good night, Catherine.” And with that, he turns and walks away.

Too late to change my mind now.

I slept well, considering the absolute shit day I had yesterday. Between my dead father, the earth-moving kiss with Jackson, Jackson regretting said earth-moving kiss, and the fight with my mother, I’m surprised I can even function. The worst part is I’m more upset about Jackson than any of the other things. One minute he’s seducing me with his magnetic eyes, sexy grin, and that damn dimple, and the next he’s pushing me away and tormenting me.

I roll over and my eyes land on the clock sitting on the nightstand. It takes a second for them to focus, but when they do … Holy shit I slept late—it’s almost noon. I’ve always been an up-at-seven-no-matter-what girl, but not today apparently. Groaning, I get out of the extremely comfortable bed and start getting ready for whatever Jackson has planned for me. Looking over the outfits I threw in my bag during my pissed-off packing, I realize I don’t have an outfit for “I have plans.” I have no clue what to wear or where we’re going. Instead of agonizing over it, I opt for jeans and a cute pink top. Luckily I brought my favorite pair, which hug my butt perfectly and accentuate my curves. The top that Ashton threw in is not a business top, but it’s perfect for our “plans.” The one shoulder gives a little sexy, but the loose fit keeps it looking casual. I have my hair in a loose ponytail with the ends curled. I throw on my white sneakers and hope for the best.

I’ve just sat in the chair and broke out my Kindle when I hear a knock on the door. Rushing over, I take two deep breaths, press the handle down, and open it. Jackson’s smiling as he leans against the wall with his legs and arms crossed. My brain ceases to form rational thoughts. The sight before me takes my breath away—he’s mouthwatering. I look down at the floor, trying to hide my blush and get my mind functioning again. As he uncrosses his leg and stands straight, I can’t help but think that this man is going to be the death of me. My eyes slowly scan his body, absorbing as much detail as possible before I have to meet his eyes again. First thing I see are his dark blue track shorts, and above them a tight black shirt shows the ripples of his abs. My greedy perusal continues until I land on his face. That’s when my knees buckle and I grip the doorjamb for support. His eyes darken. The intensity of his stare causes my stomach to clench and heat to pool in my center.

He steps forward so we’re toe-to-toe and I have to tilt my head to look up at his smiling face. His six-foot-three frame towers over me and the sheer size of him has me parting and licking my lips. Jackson’s expression changes as he follows my movement. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting me know I’m affecting him as much as he’s affecting me. A thrill runs through me, increasing my desperation for his lips on mine. He pushes forward. Our chests are touching, my nipples pebbling at the warmth of his body and the thoughts flooding my mind of him taking me right here, right now. Jackson lifts his hands and cups my face, slowly leaning into me as we breathe each other in. He stills, our mouths almost touching, but I hold my ground. I want him to be the one to kiss me again. I need it to be his choice. I close my eyes, trying to make my intentions clear, silently begging. Please, just kiss me!

I feel his lips brush against mine before I hear, “Not yet, Catherine. But soon.” Jackson’s voice drops even lower. “The next time there won’t be any mistakes.”

He takes a small step back and I open my eyes, watching as his gaze darts between my eyes and my lips, as if he’s battling his own desire. I can’t speak. I can barely process anything he’s saying. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “First, we have plans, okay?”

No, it’s not okay! I want him to push me down to the floor or up against the wall and take me. Damn him and all his self-control. I take a step out of his grip and respond in a breathless whisper, “Sure.”

“Good. Grab your stuff. We only have it reserved for an hour. I think you’ll have fun today.” His voice is now playful, refocused and excited by whatever plans he’s made for us.

The only fun I want to have doesn’t include us leaving this hotel room. I walk over and grab my purse, shoving my phone in and gritting my teeth. So much for my own self-control—I have none when it comes to him. Not even two seconds after seeing him, I’m ready to strip and let him have his way with me.

Jackson turns to walk away, taking only two steps before he stops, grabs my hand, and weaves his fingers through mine. I can’t help but smile at the small gesture. Great. Holding hands has reduced me to a schoolgirl.

“Oh, and Catherine?” The hair on the back of my neck rises at the deep rasp in his voice. “Today we’re going to talk and figure this out.”

I nod, praying that we can figure out whatever’s happening between us before it destroys everything I’ve worked for. No matter what I’m feeling for him, he needs to know that I won’t sacrifice my career for this, for him, for anything.

* * *

“Where are we going?” I ask, grabbing my driver’s license out of my wallet as he requested. We’re waiting in line to get through security.

“This is the Navy base. I thought you might have fun doing something different,” he replies, taking my license and handing it over to a guy with a rather large gun around his chest. I’m so confused.

“Wait,” I say as he starts driving forward. “Did I miss something? Are you still in the Navy?” I narrow my eyes and he smiles over at me.

“No, but I’m a contractor, so I can still access the base. Also, I was a SEAL, so I called ahead to my friends and got all this cleared.” His smile widens as we pull up behind a fence.

“These are our plans?”

Jackson doesn’t say anything as he parks the truck. When he sneaks a peek at my expression, I can see the mischief dancing in his eyes. What in the ever-loving hell is he thinking? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love this side of him. I’ve never really enjoyed surprises, but he looks like a kid on Christmas morning and I don’t want to spoil his mood.

I look around, trying to see exactly what he has planned for us on a Navy base. I can’t see anything through the trees lining the fence, and my lack of information is quickly turning my excitement into anxiety. Jackson leans over the console and grips my hand. I’m both relieved and annoyed by how my panic starts to ebb at his small touch. He squeezes once and exits the car. I climb out of the cab and squint, trying to decipher what the large tree-house-looking building is.

“Ready?” I flinch, my heart accelerating at the feel of him behind me. I didn’t even hear him approach.

“Stop scaring me! Jesus, don’t you make noise when you move?” I ask, slightly flustered. He lets out a loud, carefree laugh as he comes around. The look on his face is priceless, and his dimpled smile melts my momentary irritation.

“I’m just stealthy.”

“I have no words for you.” I smile and shake my head. “Stop scaring me all the time.”

“You’re just skittish. Maybe you should pay closer attention to what’s going on around you.” He pulls me in by my hips, right up against his chest. My eyes widen and the air expels from my lungs at the sudden contact. In a flash, his expression changes. His eyes smolder and his voice is low and hoarse when he says, “Maybe soon you’ll hear all the noises I make.” I gasp as a shudder passes through me. He releases me without a word and walks toward the metal gate.

There are no words. I can’t think of a single thing to say to him. Once again, Jackson renders me speechless. He’s flirtatious and seductive one moment and then a smartass then next. He’s unlike any man I’ve ever met. Shaking my head to rid the turmoil in my mind, I gather my wits and walk over to him.

“Are you ready for some fun?” he asks with an amused smirk.

I have no idea what kind of fun we’re going to have in a gated, woodsy area, but for some reason I trust Jackson. I don’t know if it’s because of his time in the service or the fact that he owns a security company, but I don’t believe he’d put me in harm’s way. I take a deep breath and smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Do you mind clueing me in to what this fun is?”

Jackson grabs my hand as we walk through the gate. What I see stops me dead in my tracks and I drop his hand absently. He’s got to be kidding me! Through the clearing is a large four-story building. Long ropes stretch from the top of it to a huge pole across about a hundred feet of open air, with only a shabby-looking net under them. Off to the right are four tree trunks on their side with about a foot of space between the ground and the trenches dug beneath them. Farther down are large metal cylinders that you either climb through or over. What the hell is this place? As I continue to look around, there’s more—ropes, walls, even a moat! Oh hell no! I’m in jeans—cute, expensive, skintight jeans—and a pretty pink top. He’s insane. I look over to where he was standing, but he’s moved about ten steps away. He’s leaning casually against the gate, and judging from the look on his face, he’s getting quite a kick out of my reaction.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask him with a half laugh.

“What?” he replies innocently, a sarcastic grin plastered to his face. “You said you were stronger than I thought. I figured maybe you’d wanna put your money where your mouth is, Ms. Pope.”

“I never said I was training to become a soldier!” I huff.

Jackson walks toward me and stops about a foot away. He has one brow raised and his voice is playful. “Sailor,” he reminds me. “Hmmm, maybe you’re too …”—he taps a finger on his chin—“scared?” he taunts.

My jaw falls slack as I stare wide-eyed at his comment. I’m way too competitive to let that comment slide and somehow he knows it. Yet again he’s found a way to bend me to his will. Who the hell does he think he is? Screw that! “I am not scared! I will own this course, Muffin.” I glare and then soften as an idea enters my head. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I bend and touch my toes, providing a little seduction of my own. I glide back up and cock my head to the side, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes. “I hope you’re ready to have your ass handed to you.” I’m about to embarrass myself, but I will not let him beat me.

Jackson takes a small step forward. His cheeks raise and the crinkles by his eyes grow more defined. His eyes are sparkling and his voice is smooth. “Then by all means.” He waves his hand toward the course. “I can’t wait to have my ass handled by you.”

“Handed! I said handed!” I throw my hand over my face. I fell right into this trap and now I’m going to look like an ass. If I’m going to lose, I will go down with dignity.

“Same difference.” He laughs. “You should know this isn’t my first time here. I also never lose, so if you want to back out, now’s your chance,” Jackson says, completely relaxed. He starts stretching, laughing at me as I glare at him.

“Nope,” I say confidently. No way am I going to back out now. I’m in this—balls to the walls. I mentally roll my eyes at my false bravado. I’m so screwed.

I look over and realize I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do. Is there a safety harness or padding I can wear? Shit! I clear my throat and Jackson looks back with a knowing grin. “Ummm, how does this work? Do I start here or what?”