Loving a Sinner Page 22

  When Mom died, I felt guilty for not trying harder to help her get clean. I thought maybe if her life had been on a different path, she would have been somewhere else that night. Or maybe her Karma wouldn’t have shown up to take her away. Whatever the reason for her being gone, I blamed myself.

  Mom had been in a pretty bad place financially when she died, and I had struggled to figure out how I would pay for all the expenses that came from someone dying. Without any family, I was left with the burden of figuring it all out.

  Just when it appeared that I would have to dropout of school, a mystery donation came through. Not only had they given me enough to pay for all of my mother’s expenses, but they gave me enough to cover a year at NYU.

  My eyes widened as realization settled in. Kayla’s words echoed through my mind, “He’s done a lot of shit for you that you don’t even know about.”

  My eyes found his, and I found myself asking the question I already knew the answer to, “Was it you?”

  “Me?” He sounded genuinely confused, and for a second I thought maybe I had it all wrong.

  “Did you pay for everything?” I clarified.

  He looked down to his hands, and I had my answer. Tears welled in my eyes, and I tried to find words that could adequately explain how I was feeling.

  He had saved me, and I hadn’t even known. If he hadn’t done that for me, I would have ended up in California as a college dropout. I would have still been working a minimum wage job. I wouldn’t have my photos in a gallery in New York City. I wouldn’t have ever found myself.

  “Why?” I managed through the tears.

  “I loved you, and I had to do something,” he told me as he continued to stare at his hands.

  I pulled them into my own and squeezed.

  “You have no idea how much you did for me, Jackson. You have no idea how much it means to me…”

  I felt the warm, wet tracks the tears made down my cheeks. I didn’t even attempt to hide them.

  “I’m so sorry,” he groaned again.

  “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you ensured that I had a future. If it wasn’t for you…” I couldn’t finish my sentence because of the lump that had formed in my throat.

  It wasn’t until I felt his thumb swiping my tears from my face, that I realized that he was no longer looking down but rather looking at me with such intensity I could have melted.

  He laid down and dragged me with him, pulling me to his chest. I felt each breath he took as his chest rose and fell. He trailed his fingers up and down my torso, holding me close to him. We didn’t speak. I don’t think we could have found words even if we had wanted to. So we clung to each other, not speaking a word. But we needed the silence. I needed the silence. I needed the way it covered us like a blanket. There was a comfort in the way the heat of our bodies warmed me. The way our scents mixed together on his sheets. The way our breaths fell against our skin at the same time.

  It had always been so loud between us, even in our ten years of not speaking. Our silent pleas and curses and prayers were deafening. But as we laid next to each other, listening to each other breathe, we had finally found the calm of the storm.

  I knew why he had left ten years ago. I knew why he was hesitant to love me now. The truth had made its way to the surface, and it promised a future. I wouldn’t end things with him the way he thought I would. How could I when he had been the cause for so much good, maybe the only good, in my life? He thought he was a dark spot on a pristine canvas. He thought he ruined the beauty of me. But what he didn’t understand was that he was in everything beautiful that I saw. When I walked through the cities for these past years, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he could have been in any of the tall buildings that sparkled in the sunlight. When I saw a mother kiss her baby, I would imagine a life where I could kiss my own baby—our baby. When I lifted my camera to snap a photo, I wondered what he would think about it.

  Ten years ago he had stolen my breath, my heart, my soul. He filled me in a way that I couldn’t explain. He thought I was his saving grace, when in reality he had saved me. He taught me how to live. He taught me how to love. I could never thank him enough for that.

  No, I wouldn’t be leaving him. I was staying. I was his.

  To say I was shocked by Ryan’s reaction would be an understatement. The fact that I was holding her as she slept was even more shocking. She had stayed. She was still here.

  I breathed a little easier knowing that I still had her, and if she hadn’t left yet, maybe she wouldn’t. I knew that there was still a chance that things wouldn’t work out between us. But as her soft breaths fell against the exposed skin of my chest, I could relax in the peace of the present.

  We hadn’t spoken a single word after my confession came out. I held her, and she held me, and eventually she drifted to sleep. I was too wired to even close my eyes, so instead I focused on the sound of her breathing and the softness of her hair as I played with it between my thumb and forefinger. I wondered what she was dreaming about. I wondered what she would say or do when she woke up. But mostly I found the peace after admitting the truth to be like a lifted weight off my shoulders.

  As the night drifted on, I found myself becoming drowsy—the adrenaline wearing thin. I pulled Ryan closer to my chest so that her backside was pressed against my front, and I kissed her shoulder. She sighed in her sleep and wiggled her ass against my groin, making me less tired and a whole lot turned on.

  “Baby,” I groaned into her ear—not even sure that she would hear me, “You can’t do shit like that.”

  She wiggled her ass again, and I knew she was awake.

  Damn her.

  I pressed my hardened dick against her, and a soft mewl escaped from her.

  I leaned against her and whispered into her ear, “I’ve heard makeup sex is always the best.”

  She giggled and pushed away from me. Turning, she captured my lips with hers. When she pulled away she gave me a timid smile. “I don’t know if this could be considered makeup sex. We didn’t really fight…”

  “Does that mean we’re okay?” I asked, the playfulness gone. I needed to know that she was still mine. That she was going to stay.

  “We’re okay. It’s still hard to wrap my mind around everything…”

  I linked our hands together, trapped against our chests. I searched her eyes. They looked sad, but more than that, they looked hopeful.

  “It’s okay to be upset or angry… whatever you’re feeling. It’s okay. And I’m going to be here for you through it all.”

  The kiss she placed on my lips was soft and quick.

  “I love you,” she murmured against them, kissing me once more. She pulled away and brushed her thumb across my lower lip, examining it thoughtfully. “Thank you,” she told me.

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  “Don’t say that. You’ve done so much.”

  I gave her a nod, because I knew she really meant it, but I didn’t feel that way. Maybe someday I would feel as though I had atoned for all the shit we had gone through. But that night, I was just content with the knowledge that I got to keep her.

  “So about that makeup sex…” The sly grin and mischievous gleam in her eye had me crushing her lips against mine in a moment.

  “Jackson!” she laughed as she tried to pull away from me. “Jesus!”

  “Nope, just Jackson, but sometimes I go by God when I do this…” I slid my hand down her narrow waist. She only wore an oversized tee so I had easy access to her lace boyshorts. My thumb brushed against the skin just above the waistband, causing her to squirm beneath me.

  “When you torture women?” she breathed heavily, taunting me. “I can’t imagine anyone has called you God for that.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking her if she really wanted to push me.

  I hoped she did.

  Slowly I dipped my hand into her panties and she stilled, waiting patiently for my descent to where I
knew she would be wet and ready for me. When my thumb brushed against her mound, she gasped. It was music to my ears—an orchestra of praise before I began to worship every inch of her body. Because I had lied, if anyone was going to be worshipped in that bed, it was her. Always her.

  “How’d I get so lucky?” I questioned aloud. Her chest rose and fell, heavy with her erratic breathing. I slipped a finger into her, and she rolled her eyes back.

  “I think…” she breathed, “I should be the one asking that.”

  I grinned a wolfish grin, and continued to pleasure her with my fingers. Curling them, hitting the spot I knew would make her moan my name.

  “Oh God!” she cried.

  “Told you,” I laughed before I slipped another finger into her wetness. She was dripping and I could hardly see straight from my insane desire to be buried inside of her. Using the hand that was free, I ripped her panties off of her body. I needed to see her. I needed to see what I was doing.

  “Shit, baby… You’re so perfect.”

  I continued to finger fuck her until I knew she was close. But I didn’t want her to come… yet. I pulled out of her and she groaned with displeasure from the loss of my fingers inside of her.

  “Jacks—” she began to protest but I cut her off

  “Shirt. Off,” I ordered before kicking off the boxers that weren’t doing a good job at hiding my hardness from her.

  “Yessir,” she mock saluted. My cock twitched, and a groaned at her words.

  “Don’t do that,” I warned.

  “There’s a lot I’ve been told I shouldn’t do.” She stuck out her lip in a pout and I laughed at her attempt to feign irritation.

  “In that case, do come here.”

  I laid down on my back and reached my arms out for her to join me. She did as I asked and straddled me. She began to grind against my length. Her slick core coating me. A gutteral sound ripped through me. I needed her, and she was going to be the death of me if she continued the way she was.

  “Do you like that?” she asked, knowing full well I was enjoying myself.

  “Mmm…”

  “How about this?”

  She lifted herself slightly so that she could take me in her hands and angle me at her entrance. Slowly, she lowered herself onto me. So slowly that I could feel her wrap around my dick in a deliciously torturous way that had me breathing harder than I already was.

  “Fuuuck.” I held onto her hips because I needed to do something with my hands.

  Once she was fully seated, and I was completely inside of her, she stilled. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders—slightly curled and crazy from sleep. The smile that played on her lips was that of a woman who was completely happy. And completely filled—not to sound arrogant.

  Okay, maybe a little arrogant, but hell, I enjoyed bringing her pleasure.

  “Move,” I ground out, “Please. For chrissakes, I’m dying.”

  With a soft laugh, she began riding me. It was slow and calculated at first. She wanted to take her time, make me wait. She knew she was in control and she loved it. But eventually, not even she could resist the need that was eating at both of us, and she began to grind against me faster. I watched as her breasts bounced with every movement, and I couldn’t help but die a little inside. She was so fucking amazing, so damn beautiful. I didn’t deserve her.

  I flipped us so that she was laying on her back. If we continued at the rate we were going, I wasn’t going to last long. And I needed to worship her soft, pale body adequately. I needed time to do that. I needed to show her how perfect she was.

  Thrusting into her, I buried my head into her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was distinctively hers. I never could quite place it, but I dreamed about it for ten years, and continued to dream about it now that she was back in my arms.

  Pulling back, I looked into her heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Look,” I demanded. “Look at what I’m doing to you.”

  I watched as her eyes skimmed down my torso to the place where we connected. Each time I pulled slightly out of her, my cock glistened from her wetness. I pumped back into her, and she whimpered.

  “Watch us,” I told her hoarsely as I continued to slam into her. Needing her. Feeling her. Taking her.

  This wasn’t making love. This was fucking. I would make love to her the next time around. I would be slow and show her how much I loved her. But this was about how much I needed her. I needed to feel her wrap around me, coming apart from the things I did to her.

  Ryan obeyed my command and continued to watch our bodies coming together, and I watched her. Her face was as erotic as the scene she was watching. I could see every ounce of her want and her need for me as her eyes danced excitedly.

  “Jackson, please… Oh God! Jackson!” she panted. She was so close. I could feel her tightening around me.

  “Stay with me, baby. Come with me.”

  “I… I can’t… I need…”

  She threw her head back against the pillow and slammed her eyes shut. I knew she couldn’t hold out much longer.

  Thrusting into her harder and faster, I felt my balls tightening and I knew I was close. It was also then that I realized that once again I hadn’t used a condom. But in that moment I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I wanted to mark her. Make her mine. I wanted to fill her.

  “Come, Ryan. Come with me,” I breathed into her neck.

  And I was gone. I released myself into her warm pussy as it clenched around me, milking me for every ounce I had to give. And fuck it felt good.

  We laid there for a moment, heavy breaths and sticky bodies from sweat. I could feel the way her heart raced against my bare chest. I was sure she could feel mine too. We were a tangled, hot mess, but it was the first time that I truly felt like we were one. Our souls clung to each other, and I knew they’d never let go. We were heavy breaths that fell in unison as one song that told a story of two broken souls finding salvation through each other. One soul, one body, one love.

  She was mine.

  Mine.

  I was hers.

  So completely hers.

  “I love you,” I murmured into her soft hair.

  “I love you too,” she replied, her voice heavy with sleep.

  I pulled from her and rushed to the bathroom to find a washcloth so I could clean her. When I returned to my room, I found her sprawled across the rumpled sheets. It reminded me of the first time I saw her like that, like an angel in the night. My angel.

  “Ryan, I’m gonna clean you up,” I informed her before I slid the damp cloth between her legs. She nodded and mumbled something incoherent. When I was finished, I laid down next to her and pulled the comforter over our naked bodies.

  It was the sound of content breathing that lulled me to sleep.

  Morning light streamed through the open window in Jackson’s room. It was blinding and unavoidable. I could have used another eight hours of sleep because Jackson and I didn’t get much sleep the night before. When I reached for Jackson’s side of the bed, I found it empty and cold. He hadn’t been in bed for a while.

  Wondering where he was, I sat up groggily and looked around the sunlit room. It was exactly how it had been left the night before. A weird chill settled down my spine at the thought that I could have dreamed up last night.

  “Jackson?” I called. The room was cold from the winter air, and the bed was warm. I opted to stay wrapped in his down comforter.

  “I’m downstairs. I’m about to head out, babe! Do you need anything before I go?” was his reply.

  I looked down at my naked torso and felt ashamed for being so exposed for a second before realizing I had no reason to be ashamed.

  “No, I’m good!”

  “I’ll grab a coffee for you before I come home, sound good?” This time his voice was closer. He appeared at the doorway, and when he took in the sight of me naked, he smiled.

  “Mmm… Make it a quad. I’m going to need the caffeine to get through the day. Where are
you going?”

  He scratched his cheek before answering, “Gonna go talk with Benjamin.”

  That didn’t sound fun. I didn’t envy him. Then a terrible thought crossed my mind. Benjamin had helped convince Jackson to leave me once. What if he was able to do it again? He had threatened Jackson’s mom… Jackson was fiercely loyal to his mother. Would he really choose me over his mom’s happiness and stability?

  “Wipe that look off your face, babe. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m telling him to go to hell. So you don’t need to worry, okay?”

  I tried to nod and swallow the lump that had formed in my throat without my consent.

  He stepped into the room and to where I was sitting in bed. He was close enough that I could smell his cologne and aftershave. It was a woodsy and familiar scent. It smelled like home.

  “Okay.”

  “I promise,” I urged.

  “I believe you… What if he threatens your mom again?”

  “I can take care of her. She needs to get out of that marriage anyway… So if she wants my help, she can have it. But I’m no longer taking on that responsibility.”

  He looked earnest and certain. His confidence made me breathe a bit easier. I hated that he lived in a world where his father, biological or not, would threaten his own son over whom he dated. Benjamin was a monster for all I cared, and I wished that Jackson would have never had to deal with that growing up.

  “You need any backup?” I asked, stretching my arms above my head. My body was stiff from our night of extracurricular activity.

  Jackson watched me with burning eyes. I could feel the shift of his demeanor and swallowed thickly. I would never get used to the way he looked at me. He made me feel like the most beautiful person to ever live. The way he wanted me was incomparable to anything I had or would ever experience.

  “No.” He coughed into his fist. If he was trying to cover up the way he wanted me, a simple cough wouldn’t do it.

  I bit my lip, intentionally, and cocked my head to the side.

  “Don’t,” he warned with a strained voice.