Disgrace

Nobody knew, and that made it more fun for me. I was creating this new world that was just for me. No one could scold me for any of my actions, and each choice I made was from my own mind, not filtered through others’ thoughts and opinions.

That was my favorite part of it all, well, besides when Jackson’s mouth explored every inch of me.

That was truly my favorite part.

When we crossed paths in town, we didn’t even glance at one another. Yet I knew he was there, and I was certain he was aware of my presence, too.

It was fun having our own secrets the world couldn’t taint.

Each time I left his place, a different part of me ached in a beautiful new way.

I hadn’t known that hands could fall against a body in such a way where it was gentle and wild all at once. He made me feel the safest I’d ever felt while bending my body in ways I didn’t know it could move.

Jackson Emery kissed me in a way I’d never been kissed.

He kissed me in places my husband had never explored.

I loved every single second of it.

He went full beast mode when he undressed me, but he did it in such a thoughtful way.

A gentle monster…

I was in his control, yet somehow, he made it seem as if I was steering the ship. Every moan I made, caused him to work even harder. Every time I came, he made it his mission to make me come even harder the next time.

Every time I left, I was already thinking about the next time he’d let the monster come out to play.

* * *

“Did you twist your ankle?” Josie asked the next morning as I walked into The Silent Bookshop with a slight limp. The truth was, every single muscle in my body was sore from the night before at Jackson’s. It had taken me about ten minutes to even get out of bed without crying, seeing as how every inch of me ached.

I smiled at Josie as she set a cup of coffee in front of me. “I had a crazy workout yesterday,” I told her.

“That’s good. Working your energy out is a good thing.”

She had no clue.

She picked up her mug of tea and sipped at it as the bell dinged above the front door, and we both turned to see Jackson walking in. On all the previous days when he walked in, didn’t look at a single soul, going straight through those magical doors to his darkened corner.

That morning, though, he did something different. As he walked into the shop, he looked up in my direction and gave me a half grin. I gave him the other half. Then he looked away and headed back to the reading area.

It was a quick moment—our brief interaction. For only mere seconds, our eyes locked and our lips turned, but it was enough to make Josie raise an eyebrow.

“What was that?” she asked, confusion covering her face.

“What was what?”

“Did…” She paused, doubting her own thoughts. “Did Jackson just…smile at you?”

“That was hardly a smile,” I remarked.

“But he looked your way.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I told her, feeling my cheeks heat. “It was just a glance.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you blushing then?”

“I’m not.”

“You look like Ronald McDonald’s nose—red as red can get,” she told me, making my face heat even more.

“Stop it, Josie.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh.” She gasped, leaned forward, and slammed her hands on the countertop. “What kind of exercise were you doing yesterday, Gracelyn Mae?”

I swallowed hard and placed my hands on top of hers. “You cannot say a word about it, Josie.”

The level of excitement that filled my friend’s eyes was legendary. She began quietly celebrating with a small dance. “Oh my gosh, you and Jackson Emery? You and Jackson?! How? What? But, what?!” she whisper-shouted.

“I know, it’s crazy.”

“It’s brilliant,” she corrected. “Gosh, if anyone deserves to get laid by the town bad boy, it’s you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not that it’s any of my business, but are the rumors true? About the size of his…member?”

I blushed more, pressing my hands against my cheeks.

“Sweet home Alabama, heck yeah!” she shouted, jumping up and down. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my husband more than life, but I’ve seen that Jackson Emery guy shirtless, and I just imagined that a man who was that built upstairs couldn’t be that built down below.”

“The rumors are more than true,” I told her, leaning in. “Times a million.”

“I see why you’re walking with a limp,” she joked.

“It’s weird. It’s just…my life is a mess,” I confessed. “Every single aspect of it is hard and confusing except for my time with Jackson. It’s not…complicated. It just is. And, when I go back to Atlanta after the summer, it will be over and done with.”