Free Jackson by Ember Casey

and invited her for a walk. How, as the last rays of the day were disappearing behind the trees, she’d let him kiss her. He’d kissed plenty of women in his time, but nothing had ever stunned him quite like that first kiss with Charlie. One touch of her lips and he’d known that he’d never taste anything like her ever again. It was a rush unlike anything he’d ever experienced—and at that point, he’d already done more wild, reckless things than most people did in their lifetime.
    But she must have felt it, too, because she’d invited him back to her place—all the while anxiously pointing out that she’d never done anything like that before. He’d believed her. The truth was written in every glance, in every touch, in every kiss. She was sweetness and fire; innocence and hunger. One moment nervous, the next devouring him with a passion that drew him right to the edge. They’d made love well into the night—and he’d always considered it making love with her, when normally he thought of it as fucking —and he’d spent hours exploring her body, experiencing every inch of her with his eyes and fingers and mouth until he could have sworn he’d branded every part of her in his memory forever. He’d never wanted anyone like that before.
    He still wanted her like that now.
    He dropped his head slightly, lowering his mouth to her shoulder. She gave a little gasp when his lips brushed her wet skin, and that sound was like a trigger. He pulled her back fully against him, letting his mouth come down on her shoulder a second time. Letting it linger.
    She arched back against him. He let his hands slide forward across her belly, tracing the path they’d followed on that very first night—and many, many times since. It was like coming home, like finding part of himself again.
    He’d buried this need for too long, pushed it way down inside of him where he thought he could forget it and move on with his life. But now that she was here in his arms, he couldn’t deny it any longer. There’d been a dull, hollow ache inside of him without her, and now there was a bright, blazing flame of yearning.
    He knew there were things they still needed to talk about. He was a different man than the one who’d left her, and it was clearer every second that she was a different woman. But right now, all he could think about was experiencing her fully again. His fingers moved up and down her body—one hand to her hip, her thigh, her ass; one up across her stomach, her breasts, her throat. He needed to confirm those memories he’d once created, convince himself that the woman who’d haunted his fantasies all these months wasn’t just a dream, that she was actually in his arms again. He was quick to discover that his fingers hadn’t forgotten an inch of her, and with that confirmation came a rush of other things.
    “I need you,” he murmured against her skin. “God, you don’t know how much I need you.”
    Somewhere on the other side of the boat, he could hear the faint sounds of Toshi doing his laps. Overhead, a pair of seagulls cried as they circled the vessel, waiting for the chance to grab some crumbs. But he was aware of nothing the way he was aware of Charlie. She was trembling slightly, and he wanted to hold her closer, but their legs were already tangling with each other down below. Any closer and they’d probably go under.
    And what a sweet, glorious death that would be.
    He wanted to show her exactly what she was doing to him—and he wanted her to experience the same. His fingers dropped lower, sliding down her belly to her soaked panties, pressing against the cotton until she gave a gasp of pleasure.
    Encouraged, he continued to touch her, letting his hand slip between her legs and then back again, stroking her in exactly the way he’d once discovered she liked to be stroked. The effect was just the same. She writhed against him, letting out soft, delicate whimpers in time with the movements of his fingers. Her