D for Depression [ On Hold ]

Chapter 31: Jackson's

His hands are strong and steady, cornering me towards the sink. I rest my back against it, taking slow breathes, while his fingers caressing the side of my thighs, lifting my/his shirt along the way.

''Are you going to tell me?'' He whispers, just above my lips, the faint smell of coffee tingling between us.

Biting on my bottom lip, I look away, trying to find a way out of this, although it's seems impossible, considering the fact my senses and my thoughts are full of him. His voice, his sent, his body...everything screams Jackson, making it even harder for me to think clearly.

A gentle hand cups my jaw, bringing our eyes in the same line of sight and I swallow thickly. His thumb swipes across my lips, stroking my cheek tenderly.

''No?'' He asks again suggestively, and I shake my head in response.

''Okay then.'' The words come out as a form of surrender, but knowing Jackson this is highly unlikely.

Taking a step back, he huffs annoyed, just before he grabs my thighs hoisting me up the counter. Our bodies mold together like one and he leaves no space between us, locking my legs around his waist.

''I guess I have to get it out of you then.''

*

You know the feeling when your stomach turns into knots? Your hands are sweaty and shaking, pulses increasing to the point you can hear your own heartbeat inside you head?

Well I always been familiar with it. Almost too familiar.

That feeling was hunting me inside the class, during a movie, on a coffee break, even inside the shower.

It was practically my body putting me on a danger mode, without real danger around me. And what scared me the most was, how I couldn't control myself. My breathing, my thoughts, my whole fuckin existence.

That's the exact feeling I had when Jackson trapped me between his arms. Only with a big difference.

I wasn't afraid.

My heart was racing, but my mind was calm, my hands were cold but not sweaty, my body was tingling, not trembling... I was anxious.

In a good way.

And the fact itself shocked me to the core.

''Last chance.'' He whispered, circling my waist under the shirt. ''Who made you like this last night? Huh? Who hurt you?''

The tone of his voice brings a shiver down my spine but does nothing to calm down the butterfly war inside my stomach.

What the hell is wrong with me?

''M'kay.'' The final word drops from his lips right above mine and I open my mouth almost instantly to catch it.

''Nope. Bad girls don't deserve a reward.'' He says and my thighs clench involuntarily around him.

The action doesn't go unnoticed and a light smirk breaks through his face.

''You like that? Being called a bad girl...Do you like been treated like one too?''

I've no answer for his dirty remarks. The only evidence of how I really feel, is the fabric of his tee between my fists and the tightness of my legs circling him.

''No, I don't think you are ready for that kind of treatment.'' He whispers to my ear, hands massasing my sides.

There is a moment of silence, when nothing but our heavy breathing can be heard and the next minute, I grab his jaw bringing our lips together.