Amara's POV
A date. Considering how the last one ended, I wasn't exactly eager even though the last three days were spent with relentless persuasion.Kisses on the neck kind of persuasion. Dirty words in the ear kind of persuasion.So I relented and was now currently on my mother's couch as she helped me go through some of her clothes for the perfect outfit. Despite the fact the majority of her clothes showed our difference in age, there were a few pieces I could put together.The neckline of one dress could be manipulated into a stunning belt for the skirt of another garment. Ideas similar to this came out as a river in my mind as I sketched the plan while my mother taught me to sew. The lines may not have been perfect but the vision came to completion just in time to get ready for the date itself.“I like to think this is how your prom would have been like.” She commented while putting the final curl in my hair. “I'd also like to thinJackson's POVI couldn't kiss her fast enough. I couldn't touch her long enough. The space between us was too vast and the clothes remaining were too close. I wanted to tear her bare and rut into her until the headboard left souvenirs in the form of dents in the wall. I also wanted to move slowly and take my time leaving her to come slowly undone for me. Orgasm after orgasm until I earned my own with her.“Are you sure?” She asked with emphasis to me as I nodded quick enough to leave my head almost dizzy. She smirked and I wiped it away with a brutal kiss that bent her into the crook of my arm. I had to hold onto the dresser beside the door to keep from knocking us both to the floor as her lips made me weak. Correction, the little whimpers she made as I kissed her made me weak.I couldn't have just her mouth anymore. I needed more. I needed her jaw. Her neck. Her chest. My hands pushed up her bodice to tighten her breasts beneath the fabr
Amara’s POVAs most women thought about their wedding, I thought about my first time. More specifically, what it would feel like when waking up that next morning when the heat of the moment subsided and reality returned. I conjured the idea of being made breakfast or even being run a bath to soak against my lover's chest. As I became older the fantasy was shifted into an understanding that the loss of my virtue would be the same business arrangement as my wedding day. I didn't expect much more than maybe distance as I climbed out of bed that next morning. But like always, Jackson blew all of my expectations and made them into perfect memories. His arm kept me as a little spoon in front of his naked body while his cock came to life, hard and thick, as I adjusted to my consciousness. The raspy groan of a morning tone made my skin chill as a possessive hand tugged me even closer to his chest. “Do you regret it?” He asked into my hair
Jackson's POVI’ve let my guard down for too long. Instead of submitting myself between Amara’s thighs on a continuous loop, I should have kept updates on Lena. If I would have then the fact she was absent from checking in with the guard I assigned to her wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. But because I was an insatiable and greedy bastard, the woman I loved was bouncing in the seat of my car beside me because nobody had a proper last sighting. I was told they heard noises throughout the night but nobody thought anything of it-unaware that the balconies were attached to one another and he accessed her that way. I didn’t give her daughter this detail as I knew she blamed herself and the last thing I wanted after a night like the one we shared was retraction.“It’s going to be okay, Amara.&rdq
Jackson’s POVIt was a Thursday when Lena Brady was officially buried. Where she had already been forgotten by the majority of the population nearly twenty years ago, it left only my men, Amara, and I to mourn her true loss. It was a risk to even allow it to happen but I would rather jump before Amara and take a bullet then deny her the chance to properly say goodbye to her mother this time. So while dressed in black and her mother's shawl, we spoke in prayer with the priest and were allowed today to mourn.Surrounded by at least forty of my men it seemed like Lena was as loved as she was missed, but this was all for Amara. Not a man unarmed or unalert as they crowded around us, a laying of white roses left atop a cherry casket that took a piece of my heart as well.Amara stayed hours after the final scoop of dirt was placed and smoothed while her head rested against her mother's stone. She traced the etching of "loving mother and selfles
Amara’s POVSex didn't fix anything, but it was sure one hell of a distraction. Jackson shared this sentiment last night but left me to wake up alone, sore, and looking to ignore reality yet again. The evidence of last night was worn well into the sheets, a combined aroma of us both, as I tore it free from the bed and around my naked body to conceal myself from the cold air. I managed a few steps into the hallway before hearing voices belonging to Jackson's men. By the time the realization caught up with my feet, I was standing with disheveled hair and a sheet stained from our ventures last night pulled tightly around my torso. “Not that I blame any of you, but get all your collective eyes off my wife.” Jackson kissed my cheek and walked me out of eyeshot of the majority crammed into my mother's house. “I was going to bring you breakfast…”I slowly nodded before refocusing on my true desire. He captured my hand softly in his own and kissed the inside of
Amara’s POVWe found a motel twenty miles out of the city for the night. It was surrounded with men at every turn, complete with Cutter sleeping against the door. Gun on his thigh between open legs, it was an ease to my paranoia that he was armed and ready. Even if he wasn't Jackson, he was trusted by him and it made me feel at least a sliver of safety among the heavy weight of danger constantly surrounding us.But even if it was a way to relax, I still couldn't sleep. I managed a few hours on the flight with Cutter’s insistence, but was too fueled by adrenaline now to even try to close my eyes. Instead, I paced the floor quietly until moving into the bathroom to try and keep from waking up my bodyguard. While inside, the phone rang and a knock came to the door.“I'm going to be right outside the room. Don't come out for anything.” I agreed with him before hearing the door close. Not even a handful of seconds later and the motel phone ran
Jackson's POV I shouldn't have gone to her when I got her call once I landed in Chicago. But she was so goddamn believable that I didn't think twice about it. I wasn't even there for a handful of minutes before the fate of this choice became evident and I was being guided to a car with the threat of Amara's life depending on my cooperation. I followed until coming to that secondary location, enraged to the five foot something frame accentuated by Stilettos that nearly made us the same height. And to think I defended her to Amara when she was suspicious of her motives. Danielle. But she wasn't the meek and bored housewife she had been the last few years. Now, she was something darker. As if the mischievous ambitions she had for me took on a life of their own and personified before me now. She was someone I considered to be trapped in a loveless marriage and I even pitied her. But as she stood before me now with only a cellphone and a grin, I saw nothing but ev
Jackson's POVDays passed. Too many shifts from day to night and back to a new sunrise to care to count. I used to think of each new sight of the rising sun as a way to spend it with Amara and now I was loathing its presence knowing I was mourning her. It made me sick. Too sick to eat and sleep only coming from pure exhaustion. Anytime Danielle tried to get near me I was violent enough to keep her away. Because even if Amara's heart ceased to beat, mine would still belong to her.Everything began to blur. Days. Pain. Light. The only thing I held now were my memories. They haunted and liberated me in equal measure. I craved the illusion they brought in the form of Amara to perfection. She came to me with sorry eyes and a kind hand telling me it wasn't my fault. That she forgave me and understood how I had done my best. But one look in those doe eyes and my own were too misty to cherish the sight of her conjured by me, for me. Even the soft weight of her he