This is my rated M take on the infamous Pool Scene from Poison Princess... now with extra spice! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
"Mere de dieu!" Mother of God. Jackson growled in frustration and sharplyturned away from me. The loss of his body heat hit me like a wall of ice and sent cold rolling shivers down my spine.
I could see his hands shaking as they lifted to push his black hair back from his face. He then clasped his hands behind his head. The muscles in his back flexed and contracted as he took long pulls of air into his lungs. Then he sighed forcibly and lowered his arms. He whipped around, his face set in an intense glower that made me instinctively step back. "So the ice queen doesn't want my touch, eh?" The harsh bracket lines around his mouth stood out in his exhaustion and anger. "Oh, it's fine when I'm using this body to shield you from certain death, to keep your belle ass safe, to pull you out of harm. But the minute I try to take pleasure from you, you pull away like a prissy little bitch."
The curse stung me as if a hundred bees had landed on my skin. My mind was still reeling with the sensations Jackson had invoked in me mere minutes ago when his warm delicious mouth was kissing my lips, my neck, my collarbone….what had I done wrong now? Why on earth was it so difficult to please this boy? Was I truly so ungrateful, so stuck-up, so cold? Did I truly act like the useless gatee girl he thought I was? I had offered myself up, had begged him for more of his kisses. I wanted to feel his hands on my inch of my body. I had only asked him to slow down. Mercy sake, I had never even been to 2nd base and he wanted to skip straight to home plate as if I was nothing more than a cheap hooker. To think I would have even considered ever giving this asshole my virginity!
A swift and surging anger replaced the bereft coldness the absence of his body left against mine. I could feel the heat traveling up my neck as I opened my mouth to berate him. After all, if I hadn't stopped him so forcibly, he would have—have—I couldn't let myself complete the thought.
But no words would come. The emotions welled up inside of me and rendered me speechless. Jackson's darkened eyes narrowed as he waited for my response. After what seemed like hours of silence, he snorted in disgust and began to turn away again shaking his head. He bent to pick up his discarded t-shirt.
A warning bell rang in my mind; my experience with Jackson Deveaux told me that if I let him go now, I may never get him back. And I needed him, God knows I needed him. More than I needed my pride or my virtue or anything that I had once held dear. I knew if I lost him, I would never survive – not in this world and not in my heart. As swiftly as my anger had come, it dissipated like fog in the sunshine. I had to keep him, it was the only way.
I reached for his arm to stop his movement, feeling the cabled muscles flex underneath my hand. He glanced darkly over his shoulder at me and raised his eyebrow. I knew this game. He was going to stubbornly remain silent and force me to speak my thoughts. I took a deep breath and whispered quietly "Stay."
"And why should I be doin' that, Princess? So you can open comme un fleur like a blossom under my hands and then stick you goddamn peekons in my skin before I get the chance to pull away?" He turned toward me and stepped closer so that I had to raise my chin to look him fully in the eyes. So close I could see my reflection mirrored in the green depths. His powerful arms crossed over his chest, reminding me of a medieval warlord. Oh yes, but even more dangerous. I tried to ignore the wide expanse of smooth tanned skin at my eye level. His nearness scrambled my thoughts and made it so difficult to think straight. Breathe, Evie.
In an instant, I decided I had had enough of the stupid carousel we seemed to constantly ride. Around and around. No endgame. No resolution. No satisfaction. I was sick to death of fighting him. And I wanted nothing more than for him to take control so that I didn't have to think anymore. My brain hurt, my heart hurt, and my soul hurt. I needed Jackson.
"Jax." The strange nickname slipped off my tongue before I even realized I had formed it in my mind. His eyes flared to life like a roaring fire at this name. I might have imagined the tensing of his shoulders, but I felt his skin heat under my hand. "Don't—don't do this." I sighed, trying to gather what little courage and allure I possessed. "Don't leave me." I shook my head slowly. "Not tonight."
His hungered gaze traveled down my body and leisurely back up seeming to take in every detail before returning his shining curious eyes to mine. "And why should I stay, ange?" Angel. I wanted to laugh. In this moment I had never felt less like an angel. I was fairly certain I was selling my soul to the Devil.
"Because you know." I said barely above a whisper.
"I know what?" He answered softly, leaning still closer to me. His eyes searched mine seemingly trying to find some form of answer in them. An answer to a very complicated riddle. He raised his hands to my underarms and tightened his grip, practically lifting me off the ground with his animal strength. My head tipped back in surrender. His lips were mere millimeters from mine rendering my thought process slow and muddled.
"You know-" I said more firmly, the words being cut off in my throat by the desire coursing through my blood. How I feel about you. The unspoken fragment echoed in my mind. It seemed to reverberate through Jackson as well, because his eyes lit with an unholy light and the muscles in his arms flexed as he lifted me clean off the ground and, with a growl, brutally captured my lips with his own.
****To be continued...