Chapter 20
As Liza drove to her town house in Dilworth, a tony neighborhood just minutes from Uptown Charlotte, she didn't think about the media following her, just the fact that Jackson was behind her. Smiling as she pulled into the private driveway, she wondered if things would change between them when the excitement of the election wore off.
A chill moved through her. Why was she scripting the end when they'd barely gotten things started? “Get it together,” she admonished herself as she shut her car off.
Jackson pulled in behind her as she exited the car. He got out of the car and smiled at her. “Nice neighborhood,” he said.
“Thanks. Let me give you a tour.” Liza walked to the door and opened it. She flipped the lights on and Jackson was immediately taken by her unique style. The walls of the living room were painted a sexy shade of red and the leather furniture in the room was black with a crimson accent. Above her fireplace was a painting of a woman sitting on top of the world with a stiletto dangling from her big toe.
“Nice,” he said, nodding toward the portrait.
She grinned as she glanced at the oil rendition. “This was one of the only things my ex gave me that made it past the breakup and purge.”
“Who's the artist?”
“Celina Hart. She's so dope. Her work is amazing.”
“Can't say that I've heard of her, but I will definitely check her out.” For a moment, Liza and Jackson just stood in the middle of her living room in a tense silence. Liza's laughter calmed the mood.
“Why are we standing here as if we haven't seen each other naked before?” she asked.
Jackson shrugged. “I guess it's the whole being on your turf now. I get the feeling that you don't invite a lot of people into your inner sanctum.”
She nodded. “You're right. I guess that means you think you're special now, huh?”
“I already know that.” He drew her into his arms. “And you're pretty damned special too.” He brushed his lips across hers and Liza felt as if she was going to melt in his arms. Damn, he knew how to make a woman feel good. And Liza liked the feeling. But her fear wasn't far away. She knew men left. Would she be able to handle it when this thing with Jackson came to an end?
“What's that look?” he asked.
“What look?”
He took her face into his hands. “We all have something that interrupts a moment. And whatever was going through that pretty little head of yours, let it go.”
“So, you're a mind reader now? Suppose I was just thinking about what kind of wine I have chilling?”
Jackson nibbled at her bottom lip. “I know it's white,” he said as he slipped his hand underneath her bottom. “Since you think I'm a seer, let me see if this was what you were thinking.” He brought his lips to her ear, flicked his tongue across her earlobe. “You were wondering if I'd kiss you here.” He brushed his lips up and down the column of her neck. “Then,” he said as he slipped his hand inside her tunic, “you wanted me to touch you here.”
Liza moaned as his fingers danced across her erect nipples. “Yes,” she breathed. It took everything in him not to rip her blouse off, because the way she said yes made him harder than a hardware store full of bricks.
“And you know the last thing you thought,” he said as his other hand tugged at the waistband of her slacks.
She shook her head, her breathing shallow in anticipation of his next move. He unbuttoned those pesky pants and slid them halfway down her hips. Jackson smiled at her barely there lace thong. Had to love a woman who didn't have an affinity for granny panties. He rubbed his index finger against her crotch. Liza felt weak with desire, heady with need, and ready for action.
“You want me to taste you right”âhe wiggled his finger against her throbbing clitorisâ“there.”
“Umm,” was the only reply she could muster as he dropped to his knees and pulled her to his lips. He pushed the crotch of her panties to the side, then captured her sweetness, sucking and licking her until her knees quaked. Liza cried out his name as she felt her orgasm take hold. His tongue was magical, and his lips were tantalizing and a torture tool. Because the more she came, the more he licked and sucked. The more he licked and sucked, the more she came. It wasn't long before Jackson had peeled her pants away, and as shaky as her legs were, Liza was simply amazed that she hadn't fallen on her face. He led her to the ottoman near the fireplace and laid her on top of it, facedown. He stroked and massaged her buttocks, then kissed the cheeks.
“I bet you're sweet all over,” he intoned. “I intend to find out.” Jackson traversed her body with his tongue, spending time sucking and kissing her toes, and then he flipped her over. The look on her face turned him on like a light switch. She reached for his shirt, pulling the tail from his pants, but he grabbed her hand and held it above her head.
“Come on, let go,” he whispered as he spread her legs with his free hand. “I've got this.” His fingers brushed against her mound of femininity.
“Yes, yes you do.”
He slipped his finger inside her wet folds of flesh as he kissed her neck. Liza writhed under his touch. Those lips and that finger sent her into sensory overload. She felt as if she exploded from the inside out.
“That was a good one,” Jackson said, pulling his lips from her neck.
“I don't know how much more I can take,” she breathed.
“Oh, you can take a lot,” he said. “Where's the bathroom?”
Liza furrowed her brows. “The bathroom?”
“Yes. And what kind of tub do you have?”
“What are you about to do now?” she asked as he rose to his feet and held his hand out to her. Liza took his hand and pointed him toward the stairs. Liza led him into her bathroom and watched as he filled the garden tub with water.
“Don't you think it's time to take off your clothes, Mr. Franklin?” Liza asked as she stepped into the half-filled tub. He licked his lips while watching Liza lather up a bath sponge.
“I think you're right,” he said as he stripped. Jackson joined Liza in the tub and took the soapy sponge from her hand. Gently, he rubbed the sponge across her breasts and she shivered. Jackson dipped the sponge between her thighs, stroking them gently as she reached back and shut the faucet off.
Liza wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her leg around his waist. As much as he wanted to thrust deep into her wetness, he knew they had to be protected. Pressing his luck and willpower, he pulled her closer, feeling the heat of her desire teasing his erection. He kissed her slowly, their tongues dancing a slow tango. She moaned as his hands stroked her back. His touch made her wetter, hotter, and ready for him to give her every inch of his throbbing erection. She took the sponge from his hand and stroked it across his chest. His nipples stood on end and Liza circled them with her fingertips. A low groan escaped his throat as she pressed against him and kissed his neck. Yes. He had to let her go and grab a condom or he would simply bury himself inside her.
“Condom,” he said. She nodded and Jackson set her on the edge of the tub. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out the prophylactic, and made quick work of opening the package and sliding the condom in place. He returned to the tub, where Liza had already slipped into the water. Joining her in the large garden tub, he backed her against the wall and spread Liza's thighs apart and molded her against his body. She tightened her thighs against him, urging him to thrust inside. As he thrust inside her, they both sighed and slowly ground against each other, making the water spill over the edge of the tub. She held him tightly, needing to feel every inch of him, wanting to ride him slow and long. Jackson loved her long strokes, fought with himself to keep his climax at bay. He loved seeing Liza sated and calm.
He could feel her on the verge of exploding. Her muscles tightened around his erection, making it harder for him not to come. Then she moaned, slow and deep. He snaked his hand up her back and rested it on her neck. “Come for me, let me come with you,” he breathed into her ear.
“Mmm, oh-kay,” she moaned. And they both reached their climax and leaned back in the now tepid water. Her back rested against his chest as they soaked.
“You are just full of surprises,” Liza said when she finally caught her breath.
“And what makes you say that?”
“You read my mind perfectly and did everything I wanted.”
Jackson chuckled and stroked her arms. “You're pretty damned amazing, Liza.”
“Me or the sex?”
“The sex wouldn't be amazing if you weren't. I hope you realize that I want more than just your body.”
She sighed, mad that she was allowing her insecurities to come to light in the afterglow of their lovemaking. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Then again, I'm not really sorry. I don't want to be taken advantage of or hurt.”
“I'm not going to take advantage of you and I'd never do anything to hurt you.”
“No one intentionally hurts other people unless he's a psychopath. What if these rumors about me don't go away? What if being with me will cost you this election? Do you think Robert isn't going to use this to his advantage?”
Jackson placed his finger to her lips. “There you go breaking the rules again. We're not bringing politics into our time together. You and I know that this rumor is bullshit and . . .”
She pulled back from him and rose to her feet. “I really love that you believe in the people. But I don't share your faith in the general public. Do you know how many times Twitter has killed people and everyone believed it?”
“It's not your problem,” he said.
“Oh, but I am a problem?”
Jackson rose from the tub and ran his hand across his face. “Really?”
“You said it.” She folded her arms across her breasts and tilted her head to the side.
“And you're twisting my words. Why do you want to pick a fight with me?”
Liza dropped her head, then reached for a towel. Jackson took it from her hands and tossed it over his shoulder. “Are you going to answer my question or not?” he asked.
“I'm not picking a fight with you, but if you don't win this election, I don't want you to resent me. And if I'm the reason why you lose, you will resent me.”
“Whether I win or lose has nothing to do with you. And remember, I'm the mind reader, not you.”
She snorted and reached for the towel. “That's easy for you to say now.”
Jackson allowed her to take the towel from his shoulder. “If I win or lose,” he began as he pulled her against his chest, “we're going to be fine.”
“Okay,” she said. Jackson wasn't convinced.
“Liza, I need you to chill. I need you to relax, and I need you to stop trying to act like you're looking for an escape clause.”
“Escape clause?”
“You keep acting as if you expect me to just walk away from you.”
Liza stroked the back of her neck. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
Jackson brushed his fingers across her cheeks. “I want you to answer a question for me,” he said. Liza looked up at him and her face reminded him of a lost little girl.
“What?” she asked, her voice low and throaty.
“Do you always expect the worst?”
“I . . .” Words failed her. Did she expect the worst? Yes. That had been her life. Especially when she thought things were going well. Why would things be any different with Jackson?
“I guess it's up to me to prove you wrong,” he said. “And the last thing we need is coffee. I'd prefer to simply go to bed.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I'm sorry,” she said.
“You don't have to apologize.” He took the towel and dried her shoulders. “Just stop judging me because of what he did.”
“I'm not judging you, per se,” she said as she placed her hands on top of his. “I just like to be prepared so I'm not blindsided.”
Jackson shook his head and draped the towel across her shoulders. “That's no way to live.”
Liza stepped back from him and grabbed a second towel from the linen shelf. “Let's just go to sleep. You should probably try to get some rest since the debate is tomorrow.”
“Do you plan on attending?” he asked as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “I'd love for you to be there.”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” she asked as they headed down the hall to her bedroom.
“Why not?” he asked.
Liza pursed her lips, then turned the lights on in her room. Jackson smiled at the calm colors adorning her walls: pink and lilac. The queen bed in the middle of the room obviously doubled as her office. Her MacBook sat open on the nightstand and her TweetDeck account was open. Jackson got dizzy watching the tweets scroll across the screen. “You really don't sleep, do you?” he asked.
“I have to keep up with what's trending,” she said, then crossed over to the computer and closed it. “Especially if I had a client who may be getting the wrong kind of attention on social media. The wrong tweet can ruin someone's life.”
Jackson shrugged and climbed into the bed. Liza joined him and fluffed a pillow. She stopped herself from grabbing her laptop, which was her nightly ritual, to schedule tweets and Facebook posts for her clients. They'd be all right for one night. She was going to try this living-in-the-moment thing. Glancing over at Jackson, she smiled at how comfortable he looked lying there with the towel wrapped around his waist.
“Want to watch TV or . . .”
He pulled her into his arms. “I want to relax. You should try it sometime. Let me give you your first lesson. First, you turn the lights off.”