I come unglued, a climax ripping through me with enough power to fuel a rocket ship.
"Fuck, kitten." Jackson removes his mouth and pumps his digit in and out of me, watching my face as I finish.
One part of me thinks I should be embarrassed that he's seeing my O-face, but the rest of me doesn't care. Or, rather, believes he deserves the privilege, since he's the one to produce it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." There's desperation to Jackson's tone. His eyes glow light blue. He flips me over again, this time onto my knees on the couch with my torso hanging over the arm of the sofa. He slaps my sore ass, and I hear the rustle of clothing.
I realize I'm about to lose my V-card. Things are moving so fast. Jackson's breath is erratic, his movements jerky. He rubs the head of his cock over my sopping entrance. I don't think he put a condom on. Part of me is thrilled to have inspired this much passion in him. The other part is-ouch.
I gasp, tears spearing my eyes when he shoves into me, breaking my resistance.
He freezes. "Kylie, no."
I'm still holding my breath.
"Baby, no." His torso covers mine, and he strokes my hair back from my face, trying to see me. His cock fills me, stretching my opening. Now that the initial shock of pain is gone, it feels good. I want him to start moving.
"I'm so sorry. Did I just-"
"Yes. I'm okay. Go on."
He curses and eases out.
"Don't you dare," I snap. "You're not taking this from me. Finish what you started, big man."
He strokes my hip. "Kylie." I hear the regret in his voice, and it pisses me off. I'm not a fucking china doll. Or maybe he doesn't want to have sex with a virgin. Maybe it's a total turnoff and he's lost his erection.
"Don't you dare," I whisper again, and my voice breaks.
"Kylie." His hands are gentle this time. He lifts me and tries to set me on his lap, but I'm too humiliated. I lurch off and run up the stairs. My nudity isn't sexy anymore. It's just…vulnerable.
Jackson's right on my heels, but, to his credit, he doesn't touch me. "Kylie. Kylie, wait. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
I run into my bedroom, but when I try to shut the door in his face, he stops it with his hand.
Tears of frustration leak from the corners of my eyes.
"Kylie, please." He puts his entire body in the doorframe, so there's no way I'm closing it. I give up and walk to the bed, pulling on my day-old clothes.
"I'm sorry. I totally lost control. I didn't even have a fucking condom on, and I had no idea you were a-"
I whirl around and glare at him, which stops the word from coming out of his mouth.
He shakes his head. "I never planned to have sex with you. I was just going to give you a little pleasure. But you were so fucking hot, and I lost control." He shoves his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. "It's better this way, kitten."
Why does he look like he's breaking up with me? I want to throw something at his sympathetic face.
"I'm glad something stopped us. I... can't have sex with you."
What in the hell is this? First, Sam tells me it's not going to work, now, Jackson.
Why can't he be with me? Why? Is he married already? Subject to seizures? I just can't fucking figure out what makes it impossible for us to be together.
But I'm too fragile to drag it out of him now.
"I need to be alone, now," I tell him.
His face falls. "Right. Okay. But, are you hurt? Promise me you're not hurt."
I lift my chin. "Definitely not hurt." Not physically.
Jackson, on the other hand, looks like he's in enormous pain. I notice his cock still bulges in his khakis.
Well, good. Serves him right for stopping. I hope those blue balls hurt him all night long.
~.~
Jacqueline
Jacqueline rolls over in the dirt and groans. She's too old for this crap. If her granddaughter wasn't in terrible danger, she would let herself die out here in the desert.
It would be so easy. She suffered so many bullet wounds. Four, at least. Not even a shifter should be able to survive a bullet to the head.
But she's still breathing, so that must mean she survived.
How long has she been out here?
An entire night and day, at least. Could be more; she was in and out of consciousness.
But the cat in her rallied, pushing the bullets out of her flesh, closing the wounds. There's one still stuck in her head, though. And she's lost a lot of blood. She just wants to sleep.
But Minette. Her petite fille is in danger. The men who kidnapped her have plans for Minette. She has to get help. If only she could shift.
Usually, if a shifter is badly wounded while in human form, their body will naturally shift to beast for protection and healing. Why she is still in her weak, human form, she doesn't know. It must have something to do with the head wound.
She needs to get to other shifters.
They've only been in Tucson a week, but she paid a visit to the wolf alpha, Garrett, to introduce herself a few days ago. She needs to get to him. He'll be able to help.
She forces herself to her hands and knees and then to her feet. Her clothes are stiff, covered in blood and dirt. She can't scent her way to civilization because nothing but the smell of blood fills her nostrils.
Maybe it would be best to wait until morning, when she can judge the direction of the sun. But she doesn't want to spend another night out in the cold. Not in human form.
Shift, dammit, shift.
Why can't she shift?