Middle of Knight (Jack & Jill 2)

Drawing in a long breath, he wet his lips. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Because you don’t know?”

With a slow head shake, he bit the corner of his lip. “No. I know. I’m just unsure if you want the truth or if you want me to say what you want to hear … which might not be the truth.”

In all honesty, she didn’t know either. Maybe it was too soon to even worry about defining their relationship or think very far into the future. Time wouldn’t make the conversation easier, so she chose to hear the truth.

“I want the truth.”

There wasn’t a second of hesitation before he answered with steadfast resolution.

“I want a wife. I want kids. I want home to mean something so much greater than an address. I want sex, lots of sex, with the same person for the rest of my life.”

Once again, that decade between them spanned the distance of eternity.

He shrugged as she gave him a blank look. “You wanted the truth.”

“I did.” Ryn nodded slowly.

“So … it’s your turn. What do you want?” He leaned back against his car, hands shoved into his front pockets.

“Wow,” she breathed. “I haven’t given it much thought. My mind is always in the past, reliving that whole nightmare. I guess I’m just so grateful to be alive and out of that situation that I’ve never allowed myself to think very far into the future.”

“Except for our wedding. You did agree to marry me.”

“Except for that.” She winked, giving him a big smile. Talking about their imaginary wedding shot to the top of her favorite pastime list.

“Today. If you could do absolutely anything right now, what would it be?”

Keeping her gaze locked to his, she stared and then stared some more. The smile on her face grew with each passing second.

“Truth?” she asked.

“Always.”

“I want to see your tattoos … all of them.”

*

Truth or dare turned into a bad idea, times ten. Sex. Would it have really been so hard to just ask Jackson for sex? Instead, they were engaged in the most awkward game of show and tell ever. Times ten.

“I was kidding.” She wasn’t.

Ryn chewed her lip like rawhide as she sat on her bed—nerves of a virgin or sacrificial lamb. The exact second after her wish tumbled from her lips, Jackson grabbed her hand, dragging her inside the house and straight to her bedroom.

He shrugged off his shirt. She gulped.

“Uh … the blinds are open.”

He unbuttoned his jeans. She gulped again.

“Maybe … um, maybe that’s enough. My God, you look like a human canvas. It’s uh … a lot to take in all at once. We should maybe do this in phases.”

He smirked. Confidence bled from every inch of him. Where to begin? The man was born to be inked. A few bold black words interspersed with intense colors: roses, hearts, branches, a dragon, numbers aligned in dates, musical notes.

“Are you hungry?” Ryn squeaked. “It’s getting late. You know what they say about eating after eight at night. It … it all goes to your ass.”

He turned his back to her and slowly slid down his pants and briefs at the same time. She no longer could swallow. Her mouth fell open. Drooling came next.

“Oh … okay, I see that’s not an issue for you.”

He stepped out of his jeans, completely naked before her. “Do I meet your expectations?”

The room felt smaller, too much light, not enough air.

“Exceeded,” she whispered with a breathy voice.

Jackson turned around. He deserved a medal or at least a high five or fist bump. Touching him, however, was not a good idea.

“Take your time. My eyes will wait for yours.”

Ryn nodded once. Yes, she stared at his junk which was far from junky looking. Everything was grand and perfectly structured. It all hung quite well. It was definitely more of a package. A very impressive package. UPS had nothing on him.

What seemed like a week later, she blinked and met his patiently waiting eyes. “Kudos to your parents. Really just…” she popped her lips “…yup.”

“Do you have any tattoos to show me?”

“No … nothing, nada, zip, zero, zilch.” Long after zilch she continued to shake her head. Of course her eyes had slipped a bit south again. “Stretch marks. I have a few ‘pregnancy tattoos.’ And I have a nice C-section scar.”

The giggles came out of nowhere. Ryn covered her face and laughed. “What are we doing? Put your clothes back on … this is too weird.”

A minute or so later, she felt his hands wrap around her wrists, uncovering her face. Taking a tiny peek with one eye first she opened her eyes. The details of his body could never be erased. Panning her gaze around the room, she looked at everything but him. The moss green walls adorned with pewter-framed photos of Maddie served as a nice distraction, so did the sheer white curtains dancing in the breeze of the open window. Shifting her eyes to the floor around her, she frowned at the dull, scratched wood that needed to be refinished. Finally, she elevated her eyes to meet Jackson’s, which were level with hers as he waited on his knees before her.