On My Knees (Stark International Trilogy 2)

When we arrive at the marina, he maneuvers to his parking slot in front of the Veronica, kills the engine, and turns to me. “I miss you. And I’m sorry.”

I swallow, then blink back tears. “I need to hear you say it. Are you sleeping with her?”

“No.” The word is fast and harsh. “God, no. I told you. Once, and that was a long time ago. She’s a friend, Syl. She’s only a friend.”

I nod, then open my door. “Come on.”

He still looks a bit wary, but he follows me out of the car and then onto the boat.

As soon as we’re on deck, I go to him. I slide my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his chest. His arms surround me, and I breathe deep, feeling content for the first time in hours. We stay like that, feeling the boat sway beneath our feet, until I finally pull away, then go to sit on one of the lounge chairs.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asks. “Megan?”

I shake my head, trying to articulate what I haven’t even really worked out in my own head. “I was pissed,” I admit. “Because when I met you in front of the office, it was clear you were keeping secrets. And—no,” I say as he starts to speak. “Let me get this out. And I didn’t like the way I felt when she kissed you. I—I was jealous.” I lick my lips. “And then I saw the other pictures.”

His brow furrows. “What other pictures?”

“On social media. You on the boat with Megan today. And you with other women you’ve dated over the last few years. Usually at parties and stuff.”

“I haven’t seen them.”

“No? Well, they pissed me off. And I know that it’s stupid, and I know that we weren’t together then. And I know that you told me they didn’t mean anything to you—”

“I told you that because I meant it.”

“I know. You just fucked them. Except for Megan, you didn’t care about them. Not like that. I get it. I really, really do.” I shrug. “But I’m still jealous. Especially when I think about, you know, the other stuff.”

“Other stuff?”

I can feel my cheeks turning pink, which pisses me off because I don’t want to be embarrassed or uncomfortable. I want to keep a tight grip on this conversation, and I’m afraid that I’m doing a piss-poor job of that. “You like control, Jackson. And we’ve done stuff. In bed, I mean. And I like it—I do. I like it a lot.” As I speak, I’m rubbing my wrists, thinking about the leather cuffs he’d used on me not so very long ago. “And you’ve got that whole trunk of stuff in your bedroom, and I don’t think it’s been sitting there just waiting for me to come along like Christmas Day, and I can’t help thinking of all the other—shit.”

I cut myself off because I’m saying too much. And honestly, I didn’t intend to say any of this. Hell, I hadn’t even fully processed any of this until I started talking. All I know is Megan. Jealous. Other women. Jealous.

Apparently I have unplumbed jealous depths. Who knew?

Jackson has been sitting beside me on the lounger, but now he moves to kneel in front of me. He rests his hands on my knees, and the contact is warm and comforting. “There’s only you. There has only ever been you. Even before I met you, it was just you.” His smile is a little crooked. “And there will only ever be you.”

He leans forward, then kisses me softly. “Wait here.”

My lips are still tingling as he descends below deck. I have no idea what he is doing, and so when he comes back up carrying the trunk, I actually gasp with surprise. “Jackson?”

He looks at me just long enough to smile, and then he moves to the side of the boat and—before I have time to realize what he’s doing—he drops the entire trunk over the side of the boat.

“Jackson!” I leap to my feet and hurry to his side, just in time to see the dark water settle. I turn to him. “Why—”

“Only you,” he repeats, then pulls me to him. “And I assure you, we’ll have a very good time filling a new trunk.”

I can’t help it—I laugh. But when the laughter fades, I have to shake my head. “I don’t like this part of me. The jealous part. It’s shrewish and icky and all sorts of things I don’t like. But I don’t want to lose you. And I see things like that. Pictures. Or you keeping secrets. And I just get scared and twitchy, and I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath, because those words spilled out of me fast and furious.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out with Megan today.”