Corinne Michaels - Beloved

“I wouldn’t ruin anything for you. I’m saying there’s something between us. Can you honestly tell me you feel nothing?”

Nothing? No, I definitely can’t say that. His blue-green eyes pierce through me. I’m searching, trying to read any emotion telling me I should turn him away. He smiles expectantly and I sigh. “No. But I don’t trust myself with you. It’s so intense sometimes and if I get caught up … ” I trail off, afraid to finish my sentence.

He flips my palm over and traces the inside of my hand, sending tingles through my body. “Look, I’m saying let’s take it slow. Have some fun. No matter what, I wouldn’t jeopardize your career.”

“So, what? We date? I don’t know what you’re looking for. I don’t want another serious relationship right now. I can’t …” Emotion chokes me. I’m not sure why all of a sudden I’m struggling. I guess I just don’t want another Neil. I’m not strong enough to deal with it.

“Yes, we date. We’ll be spending a lot of time together anyway. So either we keep fighting this … pull or whatever this is …” he trails off and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. Being around you, seeing you, listening to you laugh, just makes me want you that much more.”

I want what he’s offering so much, but the other part of me is fighting it. “And what if this ends badly? How do we work together day in and day out?” It’s a valid question, and it’s really the last flimsy excuse I can voice to him.

He places his palm flat against mine and smiles tentatively. “We’re both professionals. I already told you I wouldn’t hurt your career.” He chuckles.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’ve never had to work so hard to get a woman to date me. I always thought I was a pretty good catch.” He lets out a short laugh again.

“I guess it further proves I don’t find you charming or endearing.” I smile at my line of bullshit. He’s absolutely charming, so much so that I’m fighting the urge to crawl across the table and into his lap.

Jackson stands and strides to my side of the table with his hand extended. “Dance with me.”

His strong hand engulfs my tiny one as he helps me stand. It’s symbolic of how I feel when I’m around him—consumed. We walk to the middle of the small dance floor. Jackson places his hand on my hip and his warmth penetrates my dress. Slowly he lifts my palm and places it on his chest, right over his heart. I can feel its steady beating, the constant thrum as it calms my own. I close my eyes and sink into him as I listen to the singer croon about coming away with her for a while. If only I could get away for a while, ignore all the painful turns my life has taken. He leads us through the song as I replay the last few weeks. Somehow, Jackson has taken my life by storm. He’s found a way to make me feel alive, as if a light switch has been turned on, illuminating all my dark corners. He sharpens my senses and fills me with so many different things—excitement, fear, humor, anger. It terrifies me.

The song ends and I look into his kind, warm eyes. He leans in purposefully and gives me a tender kiss.

I smile and a soft giggle comes out.

“What?” Jackson asks.

“Oh, nothing.” I shrug. “Just rethinking—maybe you are charming.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

I bet I haven’t.

We finish dinner and head through the lobby, and over to the elevator. As we wait, I consider my options. Do I invite him in? I mean, we aren’t a couple. We’re agreeing to stop flirting around the fact that we have some serious sexual tension. I don’t know if I’m ready to sleep with him, but if he kisses like that, I can only imagine what he fucks like. I’m not even going to let myself go there. I don’t really have time to make a pros and cons list, but I’m pretty sure the pros would win. I’m also quite sure that I could make anything into a pro at this point. Regardless, there are cons and the biggest one is how badly this could end for me. Sure, he doesn’t want to ruin my career, but how do I know I can trust him? Look how great my track record has been. No, there’s no way I’m going to sleep with him. We decided to take things slow. I need to pace myself with him or I’m going to get burned.

When the elevator door closes, all the feelings I was questioning are amplified by a thousand. I peek at Jackson who appears to have the same thoughts brewing. Our eyes lock and for a moment neither one of us moves. Then, all at once, we reach for each other, colliding in a haze of lust. I couldn’t give a shit about being burned—right now, I’d gladly turn to ash. Hands, teeth, lips are everywhere. Jackson has me pinned against the wall as his mouth greedily devours mine. There’s no finesse, no tenderness—this is primal, raw, two people desperate for each other. This kiss is weeks of flirting, toying, and resisting the urge to rip each other’s clothes off. His hands roam my body, groping, grasping, squeezing. I’m panting and moaning—I need more.

“Catherine …” He sighs heavily against my neck as I claw at his back.

“Please,” I beg. “Don’t stop.”

I hardly get the words out and his mouth is ravishing mine. Jesus Christ! Who am I? I no longer have the ability to form rational thoughts. All I am is desire, want, lust, and I can’t stop. I barely hear the ding of the elevator, but I’m definitely aware of Jackson’s absence.

I’m panting, staring incredulously at him as he leans on the wall opposite me. An older gentleman enters the elevator and looks at both of us with a knowing smile, clearly aware of what we were doing. Now I understand why he moved. My lips are swollen, and I can only imagine what my hair looks like after having Jackson’s hands tangled in it. I fix my dress and try to regain some semblance of composure. I swear I’ve completely lost control. The girl who wasn’t going to do this? Yeah, she’s gone. We’re like two teenagers going at it in an elevator—well, interrupted in an elevator, but I enjoyed every second of it.

The door opens with a ding, and Jackson grabs my hand and pulls me out of the elevator. His fingers intertwine with mine as we walk through the hall toward our rooms. He lifts our hands, kissing the back of mine. The feel of his calloused fingers brushing against me increases my need to have them everywhere. When we arrive at my door, the nerves coursing through me smother the yearning I was struggling to control. The fear of being hurt and vulnerable all over again is almost crippling.

Jackson speaks first. “Look at me.” He places his hand under my chin and lifts my head. “I want nothing more than to take you to bed, but I’m not going to push you.” There’s so much honesty in his words.

I nod, unsure of what I want. The woman who wore the corset wants him to come inside. However, my sensible and responsible side says I’m being crazy and I should take things slow. There is an angel and a devil on each shoulder and I’m not sure which one I should listen to. I’m not even sure there’s a choice.

He leans down and the instant his full lips press against mine, the sparks ignite into a raging fire that consumes every fiber of my being. I’m burning and I need him to extinguish the flames. His tongue explores my mouth and all I can taste is Jackson. Strong hands roam my body and pull me close, making me feel like I’m being branded. Fuck being sensible!

Somehow we manage to open the door while our mouths are fused together. Jackson’s tongue swirls with mine as we stumble through the room. My legs hit the edge of the bed, halting our movement. His deep voice drips with sex. “Turn around.”

Breathless, I obey his command. He lifts my hair and brushes it to the side, placing hot kisses against my neck. The anticipation buzzes from my head to my toes and back up to my stomach. Oh God, I want him so bad. Shifting my weight as the fire burns in my core, desperate to relieve the aching, I whimper as he pulls my zipper down agonizingly slow. Other than my erratic breathing and the teeth of my dress coming apart, there’s no sound in the room. In a husky whisper I beg, “Jackson, please …”

“Please what, baby?”

My dress pools on the floor and a long moan escapes my lips as he trails his tongue across my shoulders. The heat of his tongue in contrast to the cool room is wreaking havoc on my body. He turns me around and his breath hitches. With hungry eyes, he devours my body as I stand before him in my corset and heels. He steps forward and groans. “You are so fucking beautiful.” His mouth slams against my swollen lips and he pushes me on the bed.

I claw at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against mine. He rips his shirt off and my fingers press against his abs. Jackson hisses as my nails graze his chest, feeling every inch of his perfectly toned body. At the same time, he grabs my ankle and his hands roam up my legs, pushing my need for release to a throbbing ache. “Jackson …” I moan, trying to control the sensations his touch is educing.

“What do you want, Catherine? You’re going to have to tell me.”

“You—I want you.” I groan as his hands make their way higher.

“Oh baby, you’re going to have me.” He leans down against my ear and slowly traces the outside shell with his tongue. “I’m going to watch you come. Over and over.” I nearly shatter from his promise alone. His voice is low and primal, assuring all of what’s to come.

His hands slide down my body and unhook each tiny eye of my corset. With every pop, my chest tightens instead of finding relief. Finally, the last hook is free and the material falls to the side, leaving me exposed before him. Jackson leans down as I grab for his neck, pulling him toward me and devouring his mouth. He breaks the kiss and moves down my neck and chest, licking and kissing, until he reaches my breasts. The swirl of his tongue across my nipple makes it hard. He pulls it in his mouth, sucking, while his hand pulls and teases my other breast. My eyes roll back and I moan in ecstasy. “Oh God …”