He Was Rich

It took quite some time for the words to register in Jackson’s English brain, and when they did, he tilted his head.

“My… apartment?”

“Yes. Or a hotel. Anywhere you were going to fuck that bi–lady.” 

But instead of getting a move on, he sighed like the world was resting on his shoulders, dragging a hand down his face. He suddenly looked really exhausted. He turned and grabbed my shoulders, looking into my eyes. 

“I know, darling,” he whispered, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn't know I'd been yearning for him to call me that until now. I hated that word. “I know I haven't really given a good impression so far. It’s been from one mess to another. I told you I want you, and God knows I mean it with everything that I am.”

His grip tightened on my shoulders, and I hated how his words and the weight in his eyes made my chest and eyes burn. 

“But… but this is really important to me, okay? I swear I’m not just making shit up to go fuck. I… I know how it sounds, Siri, but I've been doing this for years. Every time I don’t, something goes wrong. I lose focus. I fuck up plays I would have made with my eyes closed, and we lose. Maybe it’s all in my head; I don't bloody know, but tomorrow is my second game with this team, and I'm not willing to find out.” 

There was something about looking into his grey eyes, like, really look into them. Sometimes they were hard with anger or pain. Sometimes they were heated with lust. Sometimes they were dark with thought, but every time, they were honest. 

So this hotter-than-sin man was superstitious? Why does that make him even hotter? 

Still looking into his eyes, I nodded. “Okay.”

His eyebrows pulled tight. “Okay?”

“Okay, Jackson. Get into that car and drive us out of here. For someone whose house is on fire and who has a father in the hospital, I shouldn't be seen standing here.” 

He kept staring at me until his head dropped with a sigh. He released me and nodded, going to his car. He opened the passenger’s door, pointing towards it. 

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. Geez, everything he does is so sexy. 

Get a grip, Siri! 

I got into the car, and like an avalanche, his scent hit me. For the few seconds it took him to get to the driver’s seat, I inhaled as much as I wanted, and then went back to being composed when he got in. Well, as composed as I can be after that intense confession that escaped from both of us. 

He placed his hands on the steering wheel, but before he put the car in drive, he turned his head to me, his gaze now heated. “It’s not too late, Siri.”

I pointed to the road. “Drive.”

He drove. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Sexy again. God help me. 

So… apparently his apartment was just a stone’s throw from the café. I gave him a look when he parked. 

“Driving here was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” 

He scoffed as he turned off his car. “I couldn't leave my car there.”

He got out, and I inhaled deeply as I did the same. My lungs might probably be wondering what was going on with so many inhales today. I was nervous. I was really, damn nervous. 

I thought I might have ten minutes to think of something before we got there, but whop, time’s up, Siri. 

We got into the elevator—an elevator?—that took us up to his floor. The moment I noticed there was an elevator, I forced myself out of my head and focused on my surroundings. What student lives in an apartment that has elevators this fancy and doesn't make creepy noises? 

We went up, and up, and up. When we finally arrived on his floor, I noticed there was only one door at the end. No doors beside each other in the hallway. He was the only one on this floor.

I glanced at him from my side eye as he walked to his door, and instead of using a normal key, he opened the door with a card. 

So he was rich, then? He didn't look or act like those snobby rich people I've seen on campus. 

When we got in, you could hear my jaw hit the floor. 

The first thing I noticed was the ceiling. The really, really high ceiling. Not like mine back at the house. If I climbed onto my bed and jumped, I could touch the ceiling at the house. 

And then, I noticed the leather couch that looked imported. Everything in this house looked imported. And then, I stilled, my eyes going wide. 

“Is that…” I whispered. “Is that a bar?!”

A mini bar filled with alcohol! Oh God, I could pass out from the joy.

Jackson scoffed as he walked past me, dropping his keys. “Want a drink?”

“You bet I do.”

He poured out two glasses. I held mine with two hands, looking at the clear liquid like it hang the stars in my sky. And then I took a slow sip. I almost moaned. 

“I could cry right now,” I whispered, my eyes closed as I felt the sweet, sweet burn.  

I opened my eyes to see Jackson staring at me with an intense look, and I sobered up quickly. 

Right. We came here for business. 

“So…” I said, clearing my throat. 

“So.” He raised his glass and sipped slowly, staring at me from the rim, and I swear the bastard was smirking!

“I, uhm… really didn't have a plan when I asked to come now.”

He dropped the glass slowly. “I know.”

He said nothing else and kept staring at me. I couldn't hold his gaze and looked away. He scoffed harshly as he stood up. 

“You can stay here for the night, if you want.”

My eyes widened when he walked past me and picked up his keys. 

“W-where are you going?”

He didn't turn back to me. “To get laid.”

I flew out of the chair. “Wait, you can’t!”

“Yes, I fucking can!” he yelled as he turned back to me. He dug his fingers into his temple, briefly shutting his eyes. “You’re tense, Siri. I don't think I've ever seen you this tense.” 

“I…”

“You want to do this out of pressure and jealousy. Not because you want me. What kind of monster would I be if I took advantage of that? You think I just want to empty my balls? You think that’s just it?”

“Jackson…”

He turned to the door. “Stay or leave. Do whatever you want, but I’m not fucking touching you until I know you’re here because you want me, not because you’re jealous or terrified I will touch someone else.”

He opened the door.