Just What The Doctor Ordered

Letting out a sigh of sheer bliss as I luxuriate on my sun lounger next to the crystal water of the sea, lapping at the sand, I marvel at having Jackson in my life. He had been right there waiting for me when I had returned to my room, slouched in the chair that seemed too small for his frame, as he scrolled through his phone. He had fussed over me continually as I had spent a couple of hours slowly recovering, earning him more than a few appreciative glances from the nurses who popped in to check on me. When he finally took me home, he stayed with me until I fell asleep on the couch as we watched my favourite bake off show on TV, and even then, he tucked me into my bed with a soft kiss. It was a level of care and affection I never thought I would ever experience from a romantic partner.

When I messaged Jackson in the early hours of the morning, having woken up from my early nap full of energy, to ask if he fancied going away for a couple of days, I figured we could take a mini break to shop the Lanes in Brighton or walk the sandy beaches of Bournemouth or maybe even explore the Cotswolds. I certainly wasn’t expecting a reply ten minutes later telling me to meet him at London City airport the following morning. Oh, and to pack for the beach.

It seems that dating a rock star means international hideaways, which is how we have found ourselves in Chase’s bolthole in Ibiza. When I quizzed him on the flight over about his own properties, Jackson confessed that his chalet in Austria was better suited to the winter months. But given that the bandmates share everything, holiday homes are easy to come by, depending on your mood. Apparently, James’ villa in Costa Rica is “to die for”, but given that flights there are a little more complicated to organise at such short notice, we settled for the seven-bedroom, ten-bathroom villa decked out with pool, sauna, entertaining sundeck, games room and more facilities than my mind can cope with. The only compromise was that the rest of the gang would be flying out for the weekend. I decided I could live with that.

A shadow falls across my body, and I open a lazy eye to find Jackson holding out a tall glass of something fruity towards me. “Ooh, the service here is good,” I smirk as I pull my lounger upright. “I was just thinking I could do with a cold drink.”

“How are you feeling?” Jackson asks me, concern in his eyes.

I want to be blasé about it, but the reality is that life over the last few months has left me feeling somewhat fragile. Combined with an early start, international air travel, and the heat once we arrived, the dizzy spell that had me stumbling off the pavement outside the terminal was not entirely unexpected.

Since then, Jackson has been hovering. I’d tried to play it cool, but the sedation I had for my colonoscopy the previous day was still lingering, so his insistence on me putting my feet up and chilling has been rather easy to accept.

“Better,” I smile as I sip the icy fruit punch that Jackson has passed me. “This is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Good, because you are under this doctor’s orders to rest and recoup.” Jackson gives me a brief kiss on my forehead, but before he can pull back, I snake my arm around his neck and pull him down for a proper kiss. “Kat, you are supposed to be taking it easy.”

“A kiss isn’t going to kill me. I am relaxing, but I’ve only got you to myself for a few days, and I fully intend to make the most of it.” I bat my eyelashes and attempt a seductive pout, but I must look more like a constipated duck because Jackson bursts out laughing.

I go to swat him on the stomach, but he catches my wrist and slowly raises my arm until it’s resting against the lounger above my head. In a move worthy of Houdini himself, Jackson manages to relieve me of my juice, adjust the lounger so that it's lying flat and pull my other hand above my head as well. My breath hitches at the sudden intensity on Jackson’s face.

His eyes bore into mine with a strange solemnness until the corners of his mouth quirk up, and I’m struck for the millionth time just how mercurial Jackson’s moods can be. “Well, you’ll just have to make the most of what you’ve got then.”

His husky voice lights a fire in my belly, and my bikini feels like a layer too many. As he moves over me, I suddenly become aware that, despite the rather comfy cream cushion, I’m lying on a flimsy wooden lounger. I hesitate.

Jackson seems to read my mind. He smirks. “Don’t worry, these things are sturdier than they look.”

“And you know this how?” I respond archly. Truthfully, I have no issue with who Jackson might have shagged before me. That was in the past; I just like winding him up.

“Caught Chase out here more than once,” Jackson chuckles before tracing his tongue up the length of my neck and tugging on my ear lobe with his teeth.

“Nice save,” I murmur, bucking my pelvis into his, seeking any kind of friction.

Our tongues clash with ferocity, and hands wander across exposed skin until I’m shaking with a desperate need to have him inside of me.

“Jackson, please. I need you,” I plead, not even slightly embarrassed at the desperation in my voice.

Despite my pleas, Jackson takes his time peppering my torso with butterfly-soft kisses. I buck my hips up once again as his lips drive me crazy. Grazing his teeth across my nipple causes a hiss to escape my mouth. A light nip to my other breast has me mewling for more attention. When it all becomes too much, I pull his head up and crash my lips to his, at the same time wrapping my legs around his hips as I try to gain some contact with my aching core.

Part of me wants a quick, hard fuck, yet another part wants some slow, luxurious lovemaking. Our tongues clash, the need in us both building until Jackson takes control by flipping me onto my stomach and pulling my bikini bottoms to one side before driving into me with enough force that I see stars behind my eyelids. It’s going to be hard and fast then.

Jackson thrusts deep before pulling out until only the tip of his cock touches my entrance. In. Out. In. Out, setting up a punishing rhythm. The sensation drives me higher each time he nudges that spot inside of me, so much so that I barely register Jackson’s grip on my hips that will be sure to leave tiny bruises.

“Fuck, Kat,” Jackson growls into my ear as his body presses down onto mine. “You are so fucking tight. I don’t think I can hold off much longer.”

“Then don’t,” I respond, my voice low and gravelly as the muscles in my pelvis constrict. An orgasm rips through my body as Jackson thrusts harder and deeper, and then he goes rigid as his own orgasm takes hold. Shaking, Jackson finally collapses on top of me, and even though his weight is crushing me, I can’t help but enjoy the sensation of the two of us skin to skin.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, I feel the moment Jackson suddenly realises he is squashing me. With a muttered apology, he gently withdraws and lifts himself off the lounger, his legs shaking as he stands, making me grin. I love it when I affect him as much as he does me.

With a groan of satisfaction, I roll onto my back and stare up at Jackson as he tucks himself back into his swim shorts, a wicked grin on his face. He leans down and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear before kissing me gently.

“That was definitely just what the doctor ordered,” I say with a self-satisfied grin, feeling deliciously languid as I stretch my arms out above my head.

“Well, I do my best,” Jackson smirks at me. “So, what does my favourite patient require now?”

“Hmmm…” I smile as my stomach lets out a long gurgle. “A shower and then lunch, I think.”