“Lie down.”

“That’s not a good—”

“Lie down, Catherine. I’m going to love you this time,” Jackson says as he cradles my head in his hands. “Now, let me.”

Against my better judgment, I lie on my back. He slowly and carefully measures each movement, climbing on top of me. This is the most weight he will have put on his arm since the shooting. The fear is evident in my eyes and he smiles letting me know he’s okay.

“If it becomes too much, do you promise you’ll tell me?” I ask him, trying to quell my nerves. I don’t want to see him back in the hospital because he needed to prove something to himself.

“It’s always too much with you, baby.” He lowers his lips to mine. “You make me lose control because I can’t think of anything else but you.” Jackson’s tongue traces the shell of my ear as he continues to seduce me with his words. “When I’m inside you, all I feel is your heat, I feel your breaths, and I fucking love every second. Now,” Jackson pauses as I feel him start to enter me, “I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars. Hang on, baby.” He thrusts forward before I have a second to consider what he said and all I feel is him. I’m filled by him and it’s heaven.

“God, I’ve missed you,” I say. Even though we’ve been together a few times, there’s been a part of him holding back. Not now, though. He’s everywhere, the energy around us, not allowing me to see or feel anything but him.

Jackson moves slowly as he hovers and pushes deeper. “Look at me.”

My eyes shift to his and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. He rocks back and forth while staring into my eyes as we become one in every sense of the word. Our souls touch, and moisture builds in my eyes from the pure beauty of the moment. Before the tears can descend he kisses them away and I fight the urge to sob. I’m so overcome with emotion I feel as if my heart is going to beat right out of my chest.

His mouth lowers and he kisses me. I close my eyes and feel everything. The love, the anger, the hurt, and I give myself permission to feel it all. I know he has me and won’t let me fall. Jackson will keep me safe even if it’s from myself.

“You’re fucking made for me. You feel so good, I can’t think.”

He moves sinuously, driving me higher and I fight the emotional high as well. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, but I don’t want it to end. Every second with him feels incredible. Each thrust of his hips fills me with love.

After a few minutes, I can’t fight the need to release any longer. I start to set the pace for him from the bottom. I grind my hips as he starts to moan and shake subtly. We’re both so close to the edge.

“So close. I’m so c-close,” I stutter as I rotate my hips cautiously.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” Jackson says through clenched teeth as the sweat builds on his forehead.

Gliding my own hand lower, I start to circle my clit and Jackson groans when he realizes what I’m doing.

“Fuck, Catherine.”

“I’m coming. Now,” I cry out and fall over the edge as Jackson grunts and finishes with me. He lies on top of me panting and we’re both covered in sweat, but I couldn’t care less in this minute. I could stay like this forever with him.

“You ready, babe?” I call out to Jackson who is purposely taking his sweet ass time.

“No, I think we’ll have to just skip it.”

“Jackson Cole! You lost the bet. You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to take me to see The Lion King.” I saunter into his bedroom and he’s lying on the bed.

I’m gonna beat him.

“Are you serious right now?” I ask staring at him fully dressed, incredibly sexy, and almost good enough to pass up on the musical. But not quite.

Jackson groans and rolls to his side, “I’m injured. I can’t go.”

“You’re going to be injured. The doorman said the cab is waiting.”

His lip juts out and it’s so cute, I lean forward and kiss him. He makes me smile even when I want to slap him.

“What was that for?” he asks with a grin. “Are you telling me you’re going to admit you fixed this stupid game and now you’re coercing me into this awful play with grown men dressed like animals?”

I laugh and shake my head. “We’re going.”

Jackson grunts and I suppress a laugh. He’s so cute when he’s not driving me insane. “You know, I was shot. Three times. I think this should score me some sympathy points.”

I tap my forefinger on my chin. “Let’s see. Since you’re so injured, I think you’re right.”

His face beams but then he narrows his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“And here I thought you were dumb. Let’s go.” I grab my purse and straighten my dress.

Finally, he gets up and looks at me, smiling. There are times where just one look can melt me to my core—this is one. “What?”

“You’re beautiful. Come kiss me, woman.”

With a smile on my lips, I walk over and press them to his. Gingerly, Jackson’s calloused thumb grazes my cheek and I shiver. His touch elicits so many emotions and I pray we never lose this. I want to get lost in him.

“Enough stalling. Come on, Muffin.”

Jackson says something under his breath but I expect it. We exit the apartment and when we get to the street, there’s a black town car waiting.

“I figured the cab wouldn’t want to wait in case I was able to talk you out of this,” Jackson explains with an easy tone.

I shrug and get in the car, “Too bad it didn’t work.”

We settle in the car and Jackson and I talk about the musical a little. Apparently he has no clue what to expect. He’s never been to Broadway before.

“I don’t understand how you can live in Manhattan and never go to the theater.”

“I work. A lot,” he retorts and pulls me against his side. I mold to him and close my eyes feeling the way his rough hand rubs tiny circles on my arm. “Just think, we could be home. Possibly naked. But you wanted to see men in tights.”

The giggle escapes my mouth before I can hold it back. “This isn’t the ballet, although, if you’re interested in seeing it, I’m sure I can get tickets.”

“Not on your best day, sweetheart.”

We pull up to the theater and Jackson grumbles playfully. I’ve never considered myself a sadistic person, but I’m thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. It could be that if I lost he wouldn’t have hesitated at all. I would have had to pay for it, and knowing Jackson, he would’ve found other ways than just no name calling.

“Muffin?” He looks up and his lip curls but then he smiles. “Time to find out about the circle of life.”

“How long are these things?”

“A few hours.”

“Hours?” Jackson asks disbelievingly. “As in more than one?”

I laugh and he pushes the walker forward. “Yes, babe. Like two or three.”

Jackson and I find our seats and get comfortable. As much as I’m happy to be here, there’s so much stuff I need to get done for the launch in a few days. I don’t have much time and I’ve spent a lot dealing with personal things.