Undeniable

“I know.” Jackson murmurs against my neck. He makes no move to get up, or to stop kissing me. We don’t stop until we hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“She’ll still be asleep when I leave tomorrow,” Jackson tells me, “and there are a couple of things I need to talk to her about, or else I wouldn’t leave you at all.”

“You’ll come back though, after you’ve spoken to her?”

He grins. “Try and stop me.”

I follow him to the door and watch as he walks down the corridor. I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that he kissed me, that we’ve spent most of the evening kissing. I and Jackson! I want to whoop. I want to tell someone. I want to save the memory somewhere it will never be lost.

He stops at the top of the stairs, looks back at me, and winks. I can hear the sound of Aunt Constance’s heels on the marble stairs. I should go back inside my room and wait for him. I’m already inside, about to close the door, when I hear her voice.

“Why did you leave so early?” She’s saying to Jackson, “I looked for you for a bit before I realized you were gone, and Lindsay didn’t look too happy either. Not very polite, if you ask me.”

I’d already guessed that he came to town for the Gorman’s party, but that had been before he kissed me. Sometime between then and now, I’ve convinced myself that he's really in Foster, at Halcyon, to see me. The disappointment I feel at having that hope dashed is raw and painful.

“I wasn’t really in the mood for a party.” I hear Jackson say through the haze of my hurt feelings. I don’t want to hear any more, so I close the door, helpless against the anger, pain, and jealousy I’m feeling. I’ve just learned how much joy can come with being with someone you love, and now, just minutes later, I’m learning how much pain you can feel when they hurt you. Suddenly I feel raw and aching, unable to accept that Jackson came straight from his girlfriend’s arms into mine. I can’t bear it.

I toss the throw pillows off my bed in annoyance, working myself up to a state as I lie there, imagining Jackson and Lindsay together. I can’t believe how happy I felt just a few moments ago and how angry and frustrated I feel now. By the time I hear the soft knock on my door followed by Jackson coming into my room, I’ve burned myself out. All I can feel is the agony of the realization that even though I’ve just being as intimate with him as I’ve never been with anyone else, he still isn’t any more mine than he was before he kissed me.

I take one look at him, and the pain intensifies. I want to tell him how bad I feel, how angry I am that he came straight from his girlfriend to kiss me and make me feel as if I was special to him. But despite my outrage and the mess of emotions burning through me, I can’t find the right words.

“Aunt Constance has gone to bed.” He tells me, closing the door behind him.

I glare at him, confused by the mess of chaotic emotions I’m feeling. “Why did you kiss me when you’re only in town to see your girlfriend?" I accuse.

He is only silent for a short moment. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” he says quietly as he walks towards the bed. His words fan a flame of hope in my belly, and I stare at him, unable to do anything other than hope that he’s saying what I think he’s saying.

“What happened?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Nothing,” he says, coming to sit beside me on the bed. “She saw your necklace in my pocket and she lost it.” He shrugs, “She had a lot of nasty things to say about you, about me.”

“Like what.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He pauses, “Anyway we broke up."

I try to look sad, to mourn the end of a relationship, but I really can’t, not when it’s what I’ve wanted for far too long. "I’m sorry.” I lie.

“I’m not,” He smiles at me. “It was bound to happen sooner or later."

I don’t argue with him, not when my heart is singing. I sit up and reach for his face, kissing him, and sighing against his lips when they start to move over mine, caressing them and probing them apart. I moan when his tongue finds mine, tasting and teasing me, while his hands map a sweet, gentle path across my body.

I reach inside his shirt, forgetting my shyness as my fingers explore the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. I run my finger over a nipple, and he sighs, his body trembling a little.

“You’re shaking.” I tell him, surprised that my touch can affect him so much.

He chuckles, stroking my face as he looks at me. “I’ve had you inside my head for what seems like forever, like a fever that never goes away.” There's something vulnerable about his face as he looks intently at me. “And now I don’t want any part of this to end... do you understand?”

I nod, my feelings alternating between joy and absolute bliss. “I’ve wanted this too.” I say, “From the first time I saw you.”

He laughs. “You were fourteen.”

I chuckle.“And you were beautiful.”

He pulls me close and kisses me some more, and as my body melts into his, I know that those kisses will not be enough. I want to be a part of him. I want to belong to him totally. So when his hand moves up along my belly, and comes to a stop right before it reaches my breast, I look into his face. “Don’t stop.” I whisper. “Please.”

He doesn’t need any urging. He cups my breasts in his palms and I feel them swell and strain against the restraint of my clothes, aching for the fulfillment I’ve imagined a thousand times but never felt. I lose myself to his touch, moaning as his fingers find my swollen nipples and tease them through my clothes.

When my hands drift down for my fingers to stroke the hardness in his trousers, he groans, giving me a heady feeling of power.