Bide (The Sun Valley Series Book 2)
Bide: Chapter 52

I am never going to replace somewhere to live.

Apartment hunting in this city is useless. Everything is too shit or too expensive or too far away from college and it fucking sucks.

We need to get out of that damn apartment. Like, literally need to get out. It seems Daddy Dearest has changed tactics; he went from blowing up Pen’s phone with desperate pleas for forgiveness to threatening to cut her off.

She thought he was bluffing.

The notice of eviction we got in the mail last week begs to differ.

When the month is up, we will literally be homeless.

With a groan, I flop on Jackson’s bed, body barely hitting the soft mattress before a hand strokes my hair. “No luck?”

I snort. No luck is an understatement. Luck has never touched the last place we viewed, a studio owned by a creepy old guy who thinks bunk beds, a single armchair and a toaster oven qualifies as fully furnished. “We’re so fucked.”

“You’ll replace something.”

God, I wish I had Jackson’s optimism. “Pen is gonna have to live in a hotel room with her mom for the next however many months until the divorce is final and I’m gonna have to go back to New York and move in with my mom.”

There’s another chuckle as a heavy weight settles over me, Jackson’s hands sneaking under my back and his head resting on my chest. Lips kiss the swell of my breast, then my collarbone before nuzzling the crook of my neck. “What about Kate and Amelia?”

“That wouldn’t work.” They’d be more than willing to take me in, I have no doubt. They were pretty devastated that I moved out in the first place. But there’s no room there for Pen. Shit, there’s barely room for me. And, honestly, it would be weird, me living there again. Not only because I’d be in the middle of two disgustingly in love couples, but also because… I don’t know, it feels like I’ve outgrown that place, I guess. Like the me who lived there isn’t me now.

Jackson props himself up on his elbows, one of those serious, intense expressions on his face. He tangles a hand in my hair, thumb swiping my cheek, the corner of his mouth tipping up as he swallows, almost nervously. “Move in here.”

I almost choke on my breath. “What?”

“Move in here,” he repeats, a little steadier this time.

I blink. “Here?”

His smile grows, head dropping so his lips can brush my cheek. “Mmhmm.”

“With you?”

“Technically with Ben.” I roll my eyes as he tugs on my hair, rising to look me in the eyes again. “Nick and Cass are moving out after graduation. I’m keeping my room here but I’ll be back at Serenity most of the time. There’s more than enough space for you and Pen.”

“Are you serious?”

Jackson hums. “You’d be doing me a favor, really. I wouldn’t have to worry about you living in some shithole and I wouldn’t have to feel bad about ditching Ben.”

“You’d really want that? Me living here?”

Duh, says his face.

“I’d be here all the time.”

“You’re here all the time anyway,” he counters. “And that’s kinda how I prefer it.”

I chew on my bottom lip as I mull it over. It would be kind of ideal. It’s close to college. It’s close to both my jobs. I know the rent is dirt cheap because the landlord is some sweet old lady who was mesmerized by her four handsome tenants. And I like this house. It’s cold and it always smells like beer and boy and paint but it’s nice.

And it comes with Ben and room for my sister.

It’s not like I’m moving in with Jackson, I rationalize with my quickly overthinking brain. He’ll be at home helping Lux and the baby most of the time. We’d be more like… occasional roommates. Maybe it would help with missing him, being here. I’m trying not to dwell on the fact he’s leaving soon, I really am, but it’s always in the back of my mind.

“Fine.” One word has him breaking out in this big ass smile that makes my heart thump a little faster. “But I’m buying new furniture. I refuse to sleep in a bed that Nick or Cass have been in.” Or use their desks. The couch will probably have to go too. Definitely the kitchen counters.

Honestly, every surface in this entire house probably needs replacing.

Jackson laughs. “You won’t need to, sweetheart. You can stay in here.”

“But this is your room.”

“Yours, if you want it.” He must see the hesitation on my face because he sighs. Sitting up, he drags me with him, one hand settling low on my back, the other cupping my neck as my legs wrap around his waist and my arms go around his neck. “I’d prefer it. Keeping my bed warm and shit.”

Yeah, who the fuck am I kidding? I’d prefer that too.

“Are you sure?” I ask one more time, ignoring how he rolls his eyes. “You can’t take it back once I say yes. You’ll be stuck with me.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Are you saying yes?”

“Yeah.” He tries to kiss me but again, I dodge him. “If Pen says yes too.”

Jackson grins, big and bright. “I already talked to her. She’s taking Nick’s room.”

“You are such a fucking sneak.” I try to slap his arm but he catches my hand, wrapping it in his fist and holding it to his chest. His third attempt to kiss me is successful, his smiling lips catching my pouty ones as he lowers me onto my back again. He keeps me flush against him, hand cupping my cheek and tilting my face upwards, gaining better access as he coaxes my mouth open with his tongue.

A moan vibrates through as his hips grind into mine, trapping me between him and the bed in the best way possible. My heels dig into his ass as I urge him impossibly closer, lifting my hips to meet his as he kisses me harder, his grip getting rougher.

A hand on my thigh hoists my legs higher, opens my legs wider before skimming along my upper thigh, inching towards the spot between them that throbs for him. His hips grind again, drawing a whimper from me as his hand gets closer and closer until…

“Jackson!”

His screamed name does not come from my lips.

The sound of thumping does not come from his headboard repeatedly hitting the wall as I wish it did.

It comes from his bedroom door, from the force of someone’s fists thundering against it.

Jackson and I break apart with simultaneous groans, his murderous expression mirroring mine. “What?” we snap in unison.

“Get your dick out of your girlfriend for two seconds and come help us set up!”

I take it back. I don’t want to move in with Ben. I want to murder Ben, the little cockblocking shit.

Jackson’s forehead drops to my chest as he groans again. “You can’t do it without me?”

“We need those muscles, big boy!”

Even pissed off and horny, Ben’s dramatically husky holler still makes me laugh. The moment ruined, I push on Jackson’s shoulders until he rolls off of me. “Go. I have to get ready anyway.”

A third groan and a brief moment of rearranging below the belt later, Jackson rises from the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he promises before sloping towards the door and ripping it open. Ben is waiting for him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He pumps his brows twice at me, dodging my boyfriend when he goes to thump him. He shoves Jackson down the hall and disappears after him, barking out orders about how furniture needing to be moved, orders that end in a pained yelp as Jackson apparently succeeds in his second attempt to punch him.

The sound of their bickering doesn’t let up, even as they trudge downstairs. I flop back on the bed again, smoothing my hair from my face and letting out another laugh.

Yeah, it’s good to be back.

It feels weird to be back at one of the boys’ infamous house parties.

Like I’ve been teleported back in time.

I replace myself thinking about the first time I was here, before I knew any of them and God, it feels like a fucking lifetime ago.

Unlike that night, I don’t have to practically bulldoze my way to the kitchen, elbowing horny men out of my way. Instead, I have my own personal bulldozer in the form of a large, slightly overbearing, very scowly boyfriend. Jackson shoves his way through the crowd for me, clearing a space at the kitchen island for me too, and even sneaks an unopened bottle of vodka from one of the upper cabinets. A second later a carton of cranberry juice appears too.

“For me?” I simper dramatically, a hand pressed to my chest. “You really do love me.”

I almost spill the drink I’m pouring when a hand comes down hard on my ass. One arm flailing behind me to slap whatever body part I can reach, the other reaches for a couple of shot glasses. I pour one for myself but when I hold the other out to Jackson, he declines. “Not drinking?”

Snagging a beer, he shrugs. “Not a lot.”

“How come?”

“Can’t take care of your drunk ass if I’m drunk too, can I?”

I snort. “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, I know.” Something dark and fucking dirty flashes across his face as he steps closer, forehead dropping to nudge mine. “I’ve seen it myself.”

When I sock him in the ribs, he chuckles lowly, shifting to whisper in my ear. “Can’t do all the things I want to do to you if I’m drunk, Luna. Or if you’re drunk.”

I set that shot down on the counter so quickly, it sloshes all over my hand.

I discard my other drink too, leaving my hands free to slink around his waist and settle in the back pockets of his jeans. Propping my chin on his chest, I crook a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He hums a response, the noise vibrating through me as he kisses the corner of my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, get a room.”

Despite the intrusion, the familiar voice has my lips curving upwards. Twisting in Jackson’s grip, I grin at an approaching Pen. A condition of me coming tonight was that she come to; I wanted her to finally meet everyone, and she needed to get out of that damn hotel room. After the latest blow-up with her dad, she tried to pull a me and hole up in there. Refused to talk to anyone, broke up with her boyfriend, all that fun stuff.

Luckily for her, I inherited all the stubbornness in the family so it only took a day to coax her out of there.

My sister lands a noisy kiss on my cheek, doing the same to Jackson before brandishing a bottle of booze in either hand. “I come bearing gifts.”

“I like her.” Cass joins us, smirking as he surveys Pen and her loot. When his gaze lingers a moment too long, my eyes narrow. I’m about to warn him off when I’m distracted.

“Hi, stranger,” Amelia coos in my ear as she rips me from Jackson’s grasp and into her own. Kate does the same, holding me by the shoulders and scanning me in a quick once-over as if checking I’m all in one piece. “We didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

I shrug, feeling weirdly timid under their excited gazes. A presence appears at my back just before a hand slides up to cup the nape of my neck, fingers squeezing gently, comfortingly. The girls’ smiles brighten to practically blinding potential. “You guys are back together?”

My nod of confirmation is needless considering how Jackson dips to kiss my cheek, how his hands sneak around my waist to rest low on my stomach. A round of happy, squealing noises echo around our little group, even the boys contributing to the celebration. Amelia shoots me a wink before her face settles in an exaggerated frown, her elbow jutting back towards the giant Brazilian man looming behind her, as he usually is. “You didn’t tell me.”

Nick catches her elbow, using it to tug her back into his chest. “I didn’t know, querida.”

Because she’s incapable of even faking anger towards the love of her life, Amelia directs her frown at Ben and Cass instead. “You didn’t tell me either!”

Ben holds up in his hands innocently. “Hey, I was tryna respect their privacy.”

We all snort; it’s a well-known fact that Ben and privacy are mutually exclusive.

Rolling his eyes, Cass pats his sister on the top of her head. “Sucks to be the last to know something, huh?”

He gets a gut punch for that one, something that half winds him because the tiny redhead is freaky strong and, God, does she know how to throw a punch. Nick stifles his laughter—and his pride—in Amelia’s hair, wrapping his arms tighter around her before she tries to launch herself at Cass.

Kate dismisses their antics with an eye roll. “I’m really happy for you, Lu.”

Amelia ceases her attempted assault to agree. “Me too.”

An ache in my chest urges me forward, has me wrapping my friends in a tight hug, all three of us whispering a synchronous ‘I missed you’ in each other’s ears. Over their shoulders, I catch sight of Pen watching us with a smile. Pulling back, I wave her over, and blue-green eyes narrow at whatever expression she must see on my face.

“Girls,” I tug her into my side, interlocking our fingers and squeezing. “This is Pen.” When they start to chirp excitedly about finally meeting the infamous Pen, I cut them off, “My sister.”

It’s kind of funny how we’re surrounded by people in the middle of a loud ass party yet I swear I could hear a pin drop. Five forehead creases, five mouths drop, five voices simultaneously screech, “Your what?”

God, I shouldn’t laugh but I kind of want to. “It’s a long story.” Pen snorts at that. “One I don’t really wanna explain tonight but I will, I promise.”

I’ll explain everything.

Just not tonight.

I forgot how damn suffocating house parties are. So many drunk, sweaty people and grinding bodies and handsy assholes. Jackson got swept away by the guys for a round of beer pong and I lasted all of twenty minutes without him at my side before sneaking upstairs to his room.

Our room, I guess.

A sigh escapes me as I close the door behind me, a shield against all the noise. I collapse on the bed, unstrapping my heels and wiggling my sore toes, getting comfortable for my wait.

It takes longer than I thought it would for him to replace me.

A whole fifteen minutes pass before the door creaks open again. “Party boring you?”

I prop myself up on my elbows, unable to help smiling at the man leaning against the doorway. “You’ve lost your touch.”

His low chuckle hits me right in the stomach, as does the soft click of him shutting and locking the door behind him. I sit up as he advances, legs folded beneath me as I rest back on my heels. My neck cranes back as he stops at the foot of the bed, my hands folded in my lap to stop them from fidgeting in anticipation.

Nothing can stop me from squirming when he brushes his knuckles across my cheek and trails his hand down the curve of my neck, caging my throat to tilt my head back more. The rasp in his voice has an almost embarrassing effect between my thighs. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“You know you don’t have to charm your way into my pants, Jackson.”

In fact, he doesn’t have to say anything at all. He just looks at me and hey, look at that, pants around my ankles.

His own brand of magic.

“I know.” His cocky tone has me rolling my eyes, earning myself a tsk-ing sound from those smiling lips. “I like saying it.” He dips so his lips ghost my cheek, goosebumps radiating out from the spot he barely touched. “I like how you blush when I say it.”

I would roll my eyes again, maybe let out a snort, but I’m way too focused on the hand coaxing me to rise, slipping under my short skirt to palm my ass greedily. A deep grumbling sound vibrates in his chest as his fingers skate upwards and replace nothing but smooth skin. “No panties tonight?”

I purse my lips to hide my smile, gripping the arm attached to the fingers wrapped tightly around my neck. “Figured you’d rip them off anyway.”

“Smart girl.”

A surprised gasp escapes me when both hands cup my ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise as he yanks me forward so our chests are flush against each other. Replacing the grip on my neck with soft kisses, he takes his time, sucking and nipping leisurely, paying no attention to my whimpered moans and pleas for more.

His touch is almost unbearable, feather-light and teasing, roaming all over my body, skimming over the places I want him but never lingering. When his fingers pass the tops of my thighs, just ghosting the aching spot between them, for what feels like the hundredth time, I can’t help but groan. “Jackson?”

His breathy murmur feels like fire across my skin. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Stop fucking teasing me.”

Soft laughter follows the trail his fingers make as he slides the straps of my top off my shoulders. I take that as permission to get busy too, getting his shirt off in record time before clumsily fumbling with his belt. He snickers against my skin. “So fucking eager.”

“Yeah, well,” his belt hits the floor with a loud clang, soon followed by his jeans, his boxers not far behind, “I was promised things.”

Namely the long, hard cock begging for my attention.

A hiss escapes Jackson escapes as my fingers graze the leaking head.

Yeah, two can play at the teasing game.

I keep my touch as light, as slow, as his were as I wrap my hand around his cock, pumping with only half the pressure I know he likes. Leaning forward, I trace my tongue along the length of him, humming, “You’re so big.”

He jerks, a heavy hand settling on my shoulder, a dark look in his eyes as he gazes down at me. Tightening my grip, I stand, relishing in his sharp inhale. “Please, baby,” I kiss the corner of his mouth, “I need you.”

I had a hunch those three little words would undo him, and I was right. In the blink of an eye, I’m on my back, my clothes gone, and he’s on me before I can take a breath. He kisses me like he’s fucking starving, unrelenting and brutal, taking complete control over me. I can’t breathe and I don’t care; I just wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer.

Our moans mingle when the hardest part of him grinds against the softest part of me. He rises on his elbows, head dropping to watch his cock sliding through my slick pussy, the head nudging my clit until I’m squirming.

“Fuck, Luna,” he groans, a hand sneaking between us to join his cock, fingers pinching my clit and drawing a long moan out of me. “You’re dripping all over my cock.”

“Please.” It’s more a moan than a word, dissolving into a whimper when his thumb circles my clit. My heels dig into his ass in an effort to hurry him the fuck up but it’s useless.

Instead, he pulls back completely, sitting back on his heels and placing a firm hand on my stomach to stop me from following. When I whine in annoyance, he levels me with a heavy stare. “Just lemme look at you.”

And look, he does.

A long, lingering look, like he’s committing every inch of me to memory.

I squirm impatiently under his stare, fisting the bedsheets as my hips buck upwards. I swear to God, a tear of relief leaks from my eye when he slips two fingers inside of me, curling and instantly replaceing the spot that has my head lolling back, a fucking feral noise ripping from my throat.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he murmurs, eyes trained between my legs, watching as him move in and out of me, fast enough to set me on fire but too slow to get me over the edge. I yelp when he pulls out abruptly, his hand coming down on my clit in a light slap, the sting quickly soothed by his weight returning on top of me and his cock nudging my pussy again as his teeth nip my bottom lip. “You kept it from me. Eight long fucking months.”

All I can do is cry out when he dips inside me, just the tip but enough to make me squirm.

“You gonna make it up to me?”

I nod as frantically as I writhe.

“Good girl.” Rolling us over, he settles me on top of him, and I eagerly straddle his waist. “Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

All my breath leaves my lungs in one sharp cry as I sink down on his cock, half a dozen curses falling from my lips too when he bottoms out inside me. My hands shake as I brace them against his chest, my eyes squeezing shut as I wait for my body to adjust, for the sting of pain to recede. Fucking hell, did he get bigger? He feels bigger. Longer. Thicker. God, I’ve never felt so full. It feels like he’s in my fucking brain.

My eyes flutter open when knuckles graze my cheek. Jackson gazes up at me, the picture of strained concern. “You okay?”

I nod shakily, nails digging into his skin.

He doesn’t look convinced. “Am I hurting you?“

My hair falls in my face as I shake my head, clamping down around him and making him groan when he tries to lift me off him. “So good, baby,” I manage to croak out, rocking my hips ever so slightly and shivering at the sensation that causes. “Too good. Can’t breathe.”

Almost involuntarily, as if my compliments spur him on, his hips flex, forcing himself deeper and I almost scream at the painful pleasure. My stomach clenches, my body crumpling forward slightly when a hand sneaks between my legs, thumb going to my clit and circling languidly. Jackson takes advantage of the position, leaning up to suck a hard nipple into his mouth, sending sparks down my spine as his tongue and teeth get to work.

Tension builds in my stomach as his hands and mouth work in tandem until all I can focus on is them. It builds quick, completely wiping out any semblance of pain and replacing it with an intense want for more. Slowly, I rise up until just the tip of him is inside of me before slamming down again, my mouth dropping open as heat floods my body.

“That’s my girl,” Jackson croons, ceasing his assault on my chest so he can watch me writhe on top of him.

I go slow, rising and falling and rocking my hips leisurely, partly because I feel like I might split in half if I don’t, partly because I’m enjoying the reaction it’s drawing out of Jackson. He looks like he’s torn between being frustrated at the tortuous, languid speed and entranced by the controlled way I move.

Maybe, just maybe, I put on a bit of a show, caressing up my sides, cupping my tits and maybe squeezing them just a little before tangling my hands in my hair, gathering it up and away from my neck.

The bob of Jackson’s throat as he swallows hard is unmistakable, as is the lustful glint in his eyes.

Fuck, I forgot what it feels like to be looked at like that. Like you’re the most important, precious thing in the world. I forgot what it feels like to be cherished. Loved. It’s a welcome reprieve when his gaze drops to watch himself disappear in and out of me, because that look is almost as overwhelming as the feel of him deep inside of me is.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” My pussy clenches at the praise and Jackson’s groan vibrates through me, eyes screwed shut and jaw slack as his head falls back against the pillow. “Fuck, do that again.”

I do, and it sets him off. Hands on my waist shove me down as hips piston upwards, drawing a scream out of me as he somehow hits even deeper, practically rearranging my fucking organs. I lose control of my body when he does it again, falling forward and burying my face in his neck to stifle my cries, vision blurry and ears fucking ringing.

Jackson doesn’t relent, even as my nails bite his skin hard enough to draw blood, he just keeps pounding into me ruthlessly. Sacrificing half of his grip on my hips, he yanks my head back my hair, forcing my gaze to his.

Fuck, I’m obsessed with the way he looks. Hooded eyes and dark and wild, flickering between my face, my bouncing tits, where he disappears inside of me. Hair all messy and disheveled, mussed by my hands and our vigorous movements. Muscles twitching wherever my touch lands.

Just as desperate for me as I am for him. Just as affected by me as I am by him.

Just looking at him has a long, low moan ripping from my throat. “I’m so fucking close, Jackson.”

His thrusts speed up, balls slapping against my ass loudly as his cock twitches inside of me. “Come with me.”

One more thrust of his hips is all it takes to shove me over the edge, the pressure in my lower stomach erupts violently. I feel the moment he comes, and even as he explodes inside of me, he keeps fucking me hard, his spasming movements and the growled sound of my name only prolonging my own orgasm.

After what feels like a lifetime, he finally stills, allowing my spent body to collapse on top of him. Our heavy breathing fills the room as we lie there, bodies still twitching with the aftershocks of a fucking monumental orgasm, relishing in the feel of each other. He’s still inside of me, still twitching and throbbing and barely even soft. I’m soaked between my thighs, impossibly wet from a mixture of our release.

Oh, fuck.

My tired body screams as I sit up too quickly, swearing loudly as Jackson pulls out of me and streaks of white gush out with him, dripping down my thighs.

Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

When Jackson follows my line of sight, he swears too. “Fuck. I completely forgot.”

I did too. God, the concept of a condom didn’t even cross my mind.

“I’m so sorry, Luna.” Jackson rakes his hands through his hair, head flopping to face me as I collapse beside him. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Takes two to tango, and all that. We’re both at fault. Well, mostly my greedy little vagina is to blame, really, for being a horny bitch and clouding my judgement. “I still have an IUD. And I’m clean.” A flush reddens my cheeks as I clear my throat. “Are you?”

“Yes.” Jackson rolls to his side, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while.”

Don’t ask. Do not ask.

“How long is a while?“

Damn it.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “September, I think.”

“Fuck off,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Really?”

He hums a laugh. “Really.”

Jesus. September. That’s a while. No wonder I’m fucking coated in him.

As selfishly pleased as his confession makes me, it also incites a pit of guilt to settle deep in my chest. I shift awkwardly, curling into a ball on my side and dropping my gaze to a random spot on his chest.

“I, uh, slept with a few people,” I admit quietly. “A few one-night-stands and the guy from my office.”

The former, I barely remember. They were done in a drunken haze, nothing memorable about them. And Paul, I haven’t touched in months. Not since I started talking to Jackson again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. We weren’t together.”

His words do nothing to soothe the guilt heating my skin, spreading nausea all through me.

“Lu,” Jackson sighs quietly, gripping my chin and forcing my gaze to his. “It’s okay. I’m not angry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he insists firmly. “Do I like it? No. Am I jealous that someone else got to have you like this? Fuck yeah.”

It’s sick, really, that the concept of him being jealous sets something churning excitedly in my lower stomach. He knows it too, because his eyes spark for a brief moment, his grip momentarily tightening, before his expression softens.

“You did nothing wrong,” he repeats, so sincere and sure of himself that I can’t help but believe it. “You sleeping with other people when we weren’t even speaking, let alone together, does not change how I feel about you.”

My forehead rests against his, our noses brushing as I whisper, half-joking, half, serious, all terrified, “You still love me?”

“Always.”