But now, with hands firmly gripping the controls, Jackie felt her quivering palms unsure of where to guide things. She was the
Titanic
in a sea of approaching icebergs, pristine caps covering old, dangerous behemoths beneath.
Keep moving forward. Just push past all of this, you chicken shit. It's just a little sex, and he looks good, smells good, tastes good, and that mouth knows what it's doing.
Jackie hooked her hand around the back of Nick's head and pressed harder into him.
Nothing weird here. Nothing.
Nick's hand splayed across the small of her back, pulling her closer, and the other came up to cup her cheek. Confined in the embrace of a man who had drunk half of her blood, Jackie drew back a few inches.
“Nick ...”
You don't want my blood do you?
His thumb brushed across her cheek, the eerie, soft glow of his eyes locking on to hers. “You want to take this down to someplace more comfortable?”
God, those eyes! He could charm her into doing almost anything he wanted, bring out any dark need he might plumb from the depths of her mind. The butterflies had grown teeth, were gnawing away at her insides. They knew what was coming. They knew with or without charms where this path was leading.
No! This won't go there. I'm sober, clearheaded, and in control. I'm not that person anymore. I won't freak out.
The butterflies did not stop their frantic efforts to escape. Give it time. Normal was never on this menu.
“I'm comfortable right here,” she said. “It is a love seat.”
Fuck, I really said that, didn't I?
“It is indeed,” Nick replied, not missing a beat. “You are small, so I don't think space is a requirement here.”
Jackie let a nervous laugh escape and buried her face against his chest. “Fuck you,” she mumbled. “It's more than enough.”
I may not have double D's, but they're there, goddammit.
“Hey,” Nick said, and curled a finger beneath her chin to lift her face back up. “You
are
more than enough.”
If only.
She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and swung a leg over his so that she straddled his lap.
Just do this girl. Don't stop, don't think, just do it.
The hard ridge pressing up beneath her was a good indication the sheriff was not lying at least.
He wants this. It's not just years of build-up getting released on the handiest body available. God knows I've been a handy body.
She put her hands down on the firm, swimmer's pecs.
Maybe he does just want the easy lay.
Nick's hands slipped around her waist and wandered up beneath her blouse, pushing the smooth, blue silk across her breasts. Her nipples swelled against his palms as he continued to push the blouse up and she sucked in her breath. A shiver coursed through her.
He pushed her arms up and pulled the blouse over her head, dropping it to the floor. Jackie suppressed the urge to cross her arms over her chest and placed her hands back on Nick's chest. His hips shifted subtly beneath her.
“You're sure about this, Jackie?” He traced a finger lightly down between her breasts. “I know Shelby and Laurel have beenâ”
“No!” She pinned his hand to her chest.
Fuck, Nick! Talk later. Don't make me think about ... everything.
Jackie heaved a sigh. “No. I want this. I thinkâ” she glanced down between them “âthat you want it, too.”
Nick smiled. “Very much.”
“So just shut up.” Jackie pulled his hand away and leaned down to kiss him, pressing her hips down against him. “Please. Let's just ... fuck. OK?”
Jackie, you sound like a freaking slut. This is going all wrong. I've done this a million times. Pull it together.
One hand slipped around to the small of her back, pushing her down even harder against the firmness of his cock. The other brushed lightly through her hair, skimming over the pink scar on Jackie's scalp. “I cede to your demands.”
She kissed him again, trying to savor the touch of his hands roaming over her body, but every time he hit a hip bone or brushed over a rib, Jackie wanted to cringe.
Too thin. I look like a damn anorexic. A skinny, scarred up, scared little teenager who doesn't have a clue what the fuck she is doing.
Jackie sandwiched Nick's face between her hands and kissed him with more force, biting on his lip, and darting her tongue into his mouth.
Just keep going. Go, go, go.
A hand slid across her stomach and down beneath the band of her panties, cupping her, a finger sliding between the folds. It felt wonderful, but Jackie realized with horror that she just wasn't very wet down there.
Too nervous. Fuck, I can't relax. He's going to think I'm not interested.
“Take off your shirt,” she demanded, pushing herself upright. Jackie grabbed at it, pulling it up across his stomach. “No fair that I'm the only one losing their clothes here.”
The hand withdrew from between her thighs and Nick removed his shirt. “Better?”
I'm blowing this. God, I need a fucking drink.
Jackie fumbled at Nick's pants and unbuttoned the jeans. “Almost.”
He arched up his hips and let her pull the jeans down until he could step out of them, and then pulled her underwear down to add to the pile. Nick stared up at her, hands folded over the tight, swimmer's belly. One corner of his mouth curled up. “Enough?”
Jackie wanted to pause and stare. He wasn't ripped by any stretch, but the muscles were all firm, lean lines flowing over his body. Nick Anderson was a very good-looking man. Her hands began to tremble.
Stop. Please body, don't fail me now.
“Not quite.”
Nick slipped his hands into the boxers and pushed them down over his thighs, revealing just how ready he was for her. “Better?”
Warmth flooded through her. So much for not being wet.
OK, I can do that.
One hundred and eighty years had not hurt Nick Anderson in the slightest. Jackie reached down and pulled the boxers all of the way off, finding her face parked not more than two feet away from a damn fine cock.
Climb on top? Blowjob? What would he want? Do I even give good head? I've done it a thousand times, I'm sure. Fuck. Do I even like doing it? What if I suck at it? I'll bet Shelby could throat the whole damn thing. God, the bitch. Nick's going to be disappointed after that. How do I live up to the goddess of all things sex?
“Jackie?” Nick reached up to her. “Come here.”
He'll be fucking the rookie, like some anxiety-ridden teen, except this teen isn't so nice and sweet and tight anymore. She's been used a thousand times, fucked six ways to Sunday, like some street corner whore.
Her shaking hand disappeared in Nick's and he pulled her forward until she lay across his chest. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly. “What's wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing's wrong. I'm fine,” she said in a rush. “Do you think something's wrong?”
He's having doubts, knows I'm not right for him, knows this won't work! He always sees right through me, knows I'm just a goddamn fuck-up.
A voice, distant, laughing and mean, whispered up from the dark sea of memory.
You're just like her, always will be. A dumb, fucking whore who hates herself even more than she hates me.
Nick brushed his thumb across her cheek, and to Jackie's horror, felt the warm smear of tears between them. “You're worried and stressed. I want this to be enjoyable for both of us. So, maybe if we curl up here for while and relax? Just get more comfortable being together.”
“No, no,” she replied, pushing herself back up, feeling the breadth of his cock sliding against her. “I'm good, really. I need to do this.” She reached behind and grabbed a hold of Nick, pulling his cock upright and settling herself against it. “It's all good. I'm fine.” Letting go, Jackie pushed herself down, letting the length of him bury itself inside her, and was rewarded with Nick's quiet groan. “See? All good.”
“Jackie. I don't thinkâ”
“We're good, Nick. Doesn't that feel good?”
See? Just normal old sex. A nice fuck.
But the look on his face said otherwise. His mouth was no longer relaxed into that sexy, easy smile. The creases around his eyes had deepened with concern. But worst of all, the hard warmth of him had eased. He was losing interest. Jackie worked her hips harder, stroking up and down along the shaft.
“It does, trust me,” he said. “But this isn't right, Jackie. I want this to be right.”
The butterflies began to bleed out, fluttering with rampant glee through her body. “It ... it is right.” Her chest began to tighten, pressing down on a heart that thumped a frantic beat. Jackie clamped her thighs around Nick, driving herself against him.
I'm good. I can make this good. I'm not like her anymore.
“Just ... just ... just go with ...” The air was catching in her lungs, making it hard to breathe, to talk. He felt great inside her, filling her, driving away those furious, panicked butterflies pinned within the walls of her chest.
Nick implored. “Jackie, stop. Please.”
The taste of salty tears stung Jackie's mouth. “No ... we ...” Where was the air? The fucking butterflies had used it all up. “It's ... OK.”
“Jackie!” Nick's hands clamped around her arms. “You're starting to hyperventilate. Stop.”
She jerked away, tumbling off of him and fell to the floor. That warm fulfillment was abruptly a cold, empty void.
It's all empty in there. Cold, dead, and useless.
Nick reached for her, but Jackie batted his hands away.
Leave me alone!
She wanted to say it, but the words would not come out. She couldn't breathe. Her chest had collapsed in on itself, and she was left gasping like a beached fish.
Nick knelt down on the floor and placed his hands on her shoulders. Jackie grabbed at them, tried to slap them away, but even though his grip was light, his arms were immovable iron rods. “Jackie! Slow, deep breaths. You're having a panic attack. Calm down. You're all right.”
She vigorously shook her head.
No. Fuck, no!
She pushed her hand against her chest. It hurt like hell. “Not ... panicking.”
“Yes, you are,” he said. “You need to calm down and try to take some deep breaths.”
Jackie tried to pull away. This could not be happening. She kept her gaze turned away from his, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Pity? Disgust? Amusement? All three perhaps? She had to get out of there. “Let me ... go.”
The large hands clasped around her face, forcing her to look at him. “Jackie? Look at me.” When she refused, they clamped a bit tighter. “Look at me, please.”
She did finally, gasping like a winded sprinter. “Sorry ... I'm ... so ... sorry.”
“Stop it. You're OK,” he said, voice deepening, becoming melodic. “Your breathing is slowing. Your chest is relaxing. You're going to be fine, Jackie.” The thumbs of his hands brushed at the tears running down her cheeks. “Let's just take it easy. Slow down and relax.”
Nick's irisless eyes glowed, pulsing to the slowing beat of her heart. She could see that cold, gray door to the dead within the depths of those eyes. The pain in her chest began to ease. “Nick.” Jackie tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you relax. We can get back to all of this later. Just take it easy, Jackie. Deep breaths.”
It dawned on her then. Vampire mojo. He was charming her. “Stop! Stop it.” Jackie kicked at him, jerking her head free of his grasp. He dropped his hands and sighed with disappointment.
“It's OK, Jackie. I just wantâ”
“Fuck you,” she yelled and grabbed her blouse from off of the floor. “Fucking vampire mojo bullshit.”
I don't need your goddamn pity.
The scar at her elbow, where Nick had cut her to drink her blood suddenly ached. Jackie thrust her arms through the sleeves of her blouse and realized she had put it on backward, but she did not care. She had to get the hell out of there. Her panties were still on the floor, beneath Nick's legs and her pumps were downstairs. Jackie brushed at the tear streaks on her face. “I have to go. I'm sorry, Nick. I just can't do ... this.”
She ran, nearly falling down the stairs going to the entry. Her purse lay on a table by the door. Jackie snagged it and grabbed at the door, fumbling with the lock. Behind her at the top of the stairs, Nick's voice implored.
“Jackie, please don't go. This is all ... it's all right.”
The lock finally opened and Jackie yanked the door open. She glanced back up at Nick, standing there in all his naked glory.
It's not all right. I can't do this ... normal shit. I can't be normal.
Her chest was tightening up again. She had to escape before she disintegrated into a blubbering mess on the floor.
“No, Nick,” she said and blinked away more tears. “It's not all right. I'm sorry, really. I'm just ... I have to go.”