Free Jackson's Destiny (Sawyer Brothers #2) by C. A. Harms Page A

and I groaned in protest. He stepped back, creating space between us, and I gaped up at him. What the hell?
    “Grab your stuff,” Jackson commanded.
    I, of course, just crossed my arms over my chest to hide how turned on I was. “No,” I retorted.
    His stern look did not falter. Instead, he matched my movements, crossing his own arms over his chest. “Get your things, Bay,” he said, “or I’ll take you without them. Don’t give a shit either way, because the minute we get to my place, you won’t need any clothes.” I narrowed my eyes, but he didn’t back down. “Pissed or not, Bay, you’re coming with me. You should know by now I have no problem carrying you out of here kicking and screaming.”
    Remembering he’d done just that a few days ago when he threw me over his shoulder at Noah’s, I debated whether to carry out this stare-off, then figured there was no point in wasting my energy. I was sure by the look on his face I would need all the energy I could muster up for the long, satisfying night ahead. I tried not to smile, remembering what we had done less than twenty-four hours ago. Jackson hadn’t lied when he had told me months ago that he could go all night.
    When he smirked at me, I knew he was thinking the same thing.
    I turned and walked up the steps, then turned back to look at the man who waited by my front door, arms still crossed, still wearing a determined look on his face.
    I had met my match. Jackson Sawyer set my body and my mind on fire, and I loved every single moment of it, even if I tried to pretend I didn’t.
     
    ***
     
    Jackson was quiet as we drove to his house. I almost laughed at the way his lips were stretched into a thin, agitated line and his eyes crinkled at the edges as he stared forward in determination. But I thought I better hold back. Forget that whole “poke a sleeping bear” thing; poking the cranky cowboy may actually have worse consequences. I sure as hell wasn’t going to find out. Instead, I formed a plan of attack in hopes of lessening his irritation and bringing the fun Jackson back. The moment he rolled to a stop in his driveway, I opened the door, jumped out, and strolled across the grass, heading straight for the lake that separated his place and Noah’s.
    Once I reached the edge, I kicked my shoes off and dipped my toe in. The coolness of the water made me shiver. Looking back over my shoulder, I second-guessed my idea as Jackson rounded the front of his truck and stalked toward me like he was about to grab me again. Taking a deep breath, I decided to go for it. I quickly lowered my pants and stepped out of them.
    “Bailey.” Jackson’s voice echoed across the distance.
    Standing tall, I yanked my shirt over my head and threw it to the ground before I hurried into the lake. With each step, the cold water took my breath away. Making fists to steel myself, I continued on until I was fully immersed in the water.
    I turned and looked back toward the house and giggled softly when I saw Jackson’s expression. He was still irritated, maybe even leaning toward pissed now. He thought he could build me up and leave me hanging, then whisk me off to his house to finish the deed. That he could overpower me by pressing my clit. Well, now it was my turn to make him wait. And over the last few days, I’d learned a number of things about Jackson, one being that he did not like to wait for what he wanted.
    I swear the longer I swanned around ignoring him, the more the scowl on his face intensified. Which, of course, only made the smile on my face grow wider. I couldn’t help it; I kind of enjoyed firing up my cowboy.
    “You done yet?” he hollered. His sweet country-boy accent had become a bit more prominent. “If you don’t get your ass out, I’ll just come in there after you.”
    I spun in circles, treading water with my outstretched arms. Letting my head fall back, I closed my eyes and continued to ignore him. The moment I heard splashing, I spun in the