The bed shifted behind me and before I could turn, Jackson wrapped an arm around my waist. I gasped as he pulled me back across the bed. He pushed me on my back and swing his leg over to straddle me, he strong legs on either side of my hips. I tried to push him off, but he grabbed both of my wrist and pushed them over my head. He sat back, over me, glaring down at me, his blue eyes dark and wet. His jaw clinched as he gnawed on his lip. I narrowed my eyes and tried to keep my breath steady.

  Jackson looked out of control and instead of scared, I grew curious. I had never seen him out of control. I spoke calm and steady.

  “Jackson, get off of me, please.”

  He shook his head and gnawed on his lip, his eyes wide and damp. I twisted my wrist to get free, but Jackson tightened his grip.

  “Stop,” I whimpered, but he wasn’t listening. He was beyond listening. He stared down at me, looking for something. I knew what he wanted. I wasn’t sure I was even capable of giving it to him.

  He placed both my wrist in one hand and used the other hand to touch my face, he touched my forehead, down my nosed, across my lips as if memorizing my lines by touch. He continued down my neck to my chest. He place the palm of his hand on the center of my chest and pressed as if cover my heart from the outside in. I had been watching his hands, but when he settled on my chest, I found his eyes, staring through me. The tension in my whole body released and I sigh again, but for another reason.

  Jackson leaned over and kissed my lips, soft and gentle. A direct contrast to the grip he had on my wrist. He pulled back and I dared to follow not wanting our connection to end. His mouth curled into a sly grin and my head feel back down on the bed. He reward me with another kiss, slow, long, wet and firm. His tongue darted into my mouth, possessing it and I welcomed it. I welcomed him.

  I spent so much time being too scared to get to close, to intimate. I forgot what it felt like. Every sense, every nerve ending on my body turned on. My body hummed. My wrists were free, but I didn’t realize until both his hand found there way under my shirt pushing it up over my head. My throat caught when his hands brushed over my breast. He sensed it and as soon as he had my shirt off, his hands returned.

  He stopped kissing me and watched my response to his touch. His finger tips grazed my nipples and I stifled a moan. He blinked and instead of grazing, he squeezed my breast, his rough palm massaging my nipples and I couldn’t hold in the moan any longer. I licked my lips and Jackson captured them between his and sucked on them like his life depended on it.

  I felt things in his kiss and in his touch I had never felt before. I felt his desperations and his need. I felt how much he had to have me in his life. How much his sanity along with my own depended on it. He moved his lips down my neck and chest with out leaving my body. His mouth replaced his fingers on my left nipple and then my right.

  At the same time, he slid himself down and pushed my legs apart with his knee. His hand found their way between my legs and he wasted no time pushing my panties aside and pressing his fingers into me. When I tilted my pelvis up to met his fingers, he pulled them out and I whimpered and my eyes shot open. He stared up at me grinning. He enjoyed frustrating me.

  “Jackson-”

  “Shh. We tried it you way. Now it’s my turn.” His fingers plunged into me and I cried out in hopes of encouraging him to continue to do what he wanted.

  I laid back and let him explore me. His lips would be on my hip while one hand massaged my breast and another hand scrapped the back of my leg. Some part of him touched every part of me. I was wrapped within a Jackson Latre Mitchell cocoon and I felt safe and warm, my body awake and turned on. I wasn’t sure I could take much more. I wanted him so bad, it hurt.

  “Jackson,” I whispered his name.

  “Mmm.” He said, his mouth busy.

  I tried to push myself up on my elbows to watch as his tongue flick in and out. My body shivered as I collapsed back on the bed. Jackson pushed my legs apart even further as he licked, sucked and made me moan. Words left my brain. I gripped the sheets as I squirmed away from his mouth. His kisses to rough for my sensitive area after I climaxed. He wouldn’t let me get away as he placed small kisses on my thighs.

  I reached down and touched his face, and he kissed my hand. He pulled me up by my wrist and came up to meet me with his lips on mine. He had removed his clothes and sat with his back against the head board and pulled me onto his lap. His penis hard, rubbing against me. I wanted him inside of me. I waited to see what he would do and what he wanted me to do to him.

  “Touch me.”

  I sat back on his thighs and looked down at him. I gripped him, wrapped my fingers around him tight and stroked him. I searched his eyes for confirmation. He starred back and nodded for me to continue.

  I swiped my thumb over the tip sand he winced and groaned.

  “I want inside of you.”

  I whimper at his choice of phases.

  “Do you want me, Carrington?” I exhaled and nodded my head. A tear fell down my cheek and Jackson leaned over and caught it with his thumb.

  “Tell me,” He said. He wasn’t just asking to fuck him. His question, broader than that and my answer would determined the rest of our lives. He asked again.

  “Do you want me?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Are you sure your ready?” He asked as he lifted my hips.

  “Yes.”

  Jackson thrusted up as I sat down on him. We both gasped as the intense feeling that had swelled up and had been bottled since the day we met. Glimpses of our true feeling for each other surfaced over the years. In a random conversation back at school, as he held my hand after Josh attacked me, in the first time we slept together, but they were only glimpse. A fraction of how we truly felt about each other and what we needed from each other. Here and now, the emotion of our true selves exuded from each and every pore and we clung it and to each other and starred into each others eyes vowing to never let anything or anyone alive or dead come between us again.

  I laid curled up in his arms feeling more open and vulnerable. What happened between us spoke volumes, but I know I needed to talk. I needed to tell him everything.

  “I’m sorry, about what I said in the hospital about not needing you when it came to Jack. I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know.”

  “ I am so mad at myself for letting Josh control me and making me feel sorry for him, and the way he manipulated me. I didn’t want him. I wanted you and he made me doubt that. He made me doubt what my heart and my brain were scream at me.” I sat up, shaking, the tear falling. “I need you to believe me. I didn’t want want him. Being with you now, makes me angry because of what we both missed out on because of what he did to me. Why did he do that to me? Why?”

  “Sh sh, come here.” Jackson sat up and pulled me in his lap. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok.”

  “I hate him Jackson. I hate him so much.”

  “Sh, I know.” He held me as I sobbed, felling safe to let it all out. I closed my heart off for so long because of what Josh did to me and now it was so wide open because of the love offered by Jackson.

  I felt vulnerable and I clung to Jackson. Jackson held me and took everything I had to offer.

  When my sobs subsided and I could speak, I sat up and stared into his eyes.

  “Thank you for coming to look for me.”

  “I told you a long time ago, I got you. What ever you need?”

  I exhaled and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his chest to mine. “You know, it ok?”

  “What is?” He rubbed my back.

  “If you need to talk about Josh. It’s ok.” I pulled back again. “I can handle it. I knew Josh for nine months, you knew him for nine years. ”

  ***

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  “Jack needs to hear good things about his father.” She leaned her head against my chest, her leg draped over me and the other bent under her. I ran my hand up up and down her thigh. “Josh has some good points, too, right?”

  “Yeah, of course he did. There was a reason you were attracted to him in the first place?”

  I wasn’t sure why I asked the questions, more then anything, I wanted to talk to her about Josh and never felt comfortable doing so before. She brought it up so I nudged her along.

  “I am starting to forget things about him. He was intense and had these sad dark eyes.”

  “He was funny, too,” I said and laughed. “He had a weird sense of humor, but it was funny. Like it took you a while to get it.”

  “Yeah. He made me feel good when he tried. Complimenting me and made me feel wanted.”

  “I’m happy you got to see that side of him. When we were kids, he made people feel comfortable around him. He could have been a real ass hole, but he wasn’t. He was a lot of other bad things, but he wasn’t a dick.”

  “When we found out he died, I looked at you and you wouldn’t meet my eyes. I figured you were unsure how to feel about the man after what he did to me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you forgiven him?” A tear fell down my cheek and I turned away from her, but she grabbed my chin and turned it back to face her. “I don’t want to hate him and I don’t want you to feel like you have to hate him, too.”

  I shook my head and leaned over and wrapped my arm around her. I laid us both down on the bed on our side, Our faced inches from each other. I cupped her chin and kissed her lips and whispered, “I don’t know how to stop hating him for hurting you.”

  “You don’t have to hold on to it. You need to let it go.”

  “How?”

  “Maybe when we talk to Jack about him,” she bit her lip, “Well figure it out. If nothing else, we have Josh to thank for giving us Jack.”

  I squeezed her tight and she melted against me.

  “I’m looking forward to watching him grow up.”

  I could stay like this with her forever. It all seemed so normal, talking about our future. For the first time since we got back into each other’s lives, it felt possible.

  “Hey,” she stared in my eyes, “I am so in love with our family.”

  I leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face.

  “Jackson. I …” she blinked a few times, but turned back to face me. “Do you want to have more kids.”

  I stared at her for a moment, thinking about the question. The idea of Carrington having my baby made a sense of pride swell in my chest, but her gnawing on her bottom lip clued me in to quashing that enthusiasm.

  “I do.” I held her face, “Why do you ask?”

  “I was wondering how important it it to you.”

  “You don’t want to have anymore kids.”

  “Oh my God, of course I do. I want to have a little Mitchell baby.” I grinned. “But, what if I’m not able to have another baby.” I lost the grin.

  “Carrington, are you trying to tell me something?”

  “No …, I mean. I don’t know. My doctor said there are no physical reasons why I can’t conceive a child, but you never know and I want to know that if that is a possibility, I want you to know so you can see how important it is too you.”

  “Well, I ‘m not going to lie. Being a father is important to me. I have the greatest father in the world and I feel like it would be honoring him to be able to pass on to my son what I learned from him.”

  “Aww, that’s beautiful.”

  “And, if Jack’s is the only one to get that wisdom, then I am ok with that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Listen, the fact you want to have my child is pretty freakin cool, but you already gave me the best gift in the world.” He reached out and touched my face. “The privilege of loving you.”

  “God, you’re so good at this mushy stuff.”

  “Yeah well, I have a lot of good stuff saved up. I’ve been waiting seven years to use them.”

  We woke up to the sound of her phone ringing on the night stand. The call id had Mr. Griffin photo on it. We looked at each other and I answered the phone.

  “Mama.” We exhaled.

  “Hey sweetie. You ok?” Carrington asked.

  “Can I have Chick Fil A on the way home tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “I hate hospital water.”

  I muted the phone. “What’s hospital water?”

  “The clear soup they make him drink.”

  “Where’s Jackson?”

  “Hey buddy,” Jackson said as he rolled on his back. “How you feeling?”

  “Good. Grand Pa Griffin and I think you should come right out and throw to Sherman’s side. Like ten times in a row. No way will they expect it.”

  Carrington narrowed her eyes and I laughed. “It’s a good idea. I’ll mention it in the offense meeting tomorrow. See what they think.”

  “Cool.”

  “Sweetie, we’ll be their soon, ok? See you before you go to bed,” Carrington said.

  “Ok. Love you both.” Jack said and hung up.

  I rolled back on my side and pulled Carrington closer.

  “It’s not a bad idea. Might throw Sherman off his game,” she said.

  “Yeah, doing the unexpected seems to work in most cases. Until the person figures it out.”

  “Then, we change it up.”

  “Keep you on your toes,” I said.

  “As long as you remember at the core one universal truth.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You better then him.” I grinned and pulled her in closer. “And, I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  “Come on Mama. Tell them we have to go,” Jack said. He had enough of the hospital.

  “Why are you in such a big hurry to get out of here?” Carrington asked.

  “Duh, FSU Game starts at twelve thirty.”

  “Duh, Mom,” I said and Carrington pouted at me.

  We made it home in time before kick off, even with stopping to get Chick Fil A on the way.

  I had a couple of hours before team meetings at the hotel.

  I always got nostalgic watching FSU football. My time in college bitter sweet, but leaned more towards sweet now that I had Carrington and Jack in my life.

  “What are you grinning about?” Carrington asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just. I’m good.” I leaned over and kissed her on a cheek. She smiled, my favorite sight in the world. We turned back towards the television and focused on the game. Jack sat in the corner of the couch on the floor. Focusing on the game and his chicken nuggets in equal measure.

  The broadcast showed a flash back scene of me playing in college, talking about the last time Florida State had this talented of a team.

  “That is so cool,” Jack said. He watched the game. “How come my dad didn’t play football?”

  We both stopped in mid bite and turned to face Jack. He hadn’t looked at us. He stared at the screen watching FSU march down the field.

  “He did play?” I looked at Carrington to make sure it was ok for me to continue. She smiled and nodded. “In middle school, but he hated to get tackled. In seventh and eight, he could out run people, but by the time we got to high school, everyone could catch him, so he quit.”

  “What position did he play?”

  “Running back.”

  Jack giggled and continued watching the game. Another few minutes ticked by and he asked another questions.

  “Did he meet me?”

  “I know he saw you once. The nurses didn’t know who he was at the time, but they told me later he stopped by and asked about you,” Carrington said.

  “Do I look like him?”

  “You’ve seen photos, what do you think?” Carrington asked.

  “Yeah. I do.” Jack stood up and walked over to where we sat on the couch. He sat in front of us on the coffee table, his legs crossed with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “Brian said my dad would have gone to jail if he didn’t die.”

  “Did he tell you why?” I asked.

  “He didn’t know. He said my dad was a bad guy.”

  “Jack, you dad wasn’t a bad guy, but he did a bad thing,” I said.

  “What did he do?”

  Carrington touched my hand and I let her continue.

  “When I was pregnant with you, your dad hurt me and that’s why you arrived early.”

  Jack looked from Carrington to me and back to Carrington again.

  I watched Jack process this information. Work it around his head until he could understand. I tried to think of a way to explain in another way, but nothing came to mind.

  “Jack,” Carrington said. “He was excited about you. He thought it was really cool to be having a son and he tried really hard, but he was sick.”

  “Like me.”

  “No, not like you. He drank and did drugs and got into fights when he did those things.”

  “Why was he sick? Why didn’t he just stop.”

  “Some times people take drugs and get addicted where they need to keep doing them and even thought they want to stop, they need help to stop and your dad didn’t get help,” I said.

  Jack sat silent for a moment. He rocked back and forth and I didn’t know what his little quirks mean, yet. I waited.

  He stood up. “Mama, “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry for?” she asked.

  “He’s my dad-“

  “Jack, what you dad did had nothing to do with you. You weren’t even born yet. You don’t have to apologize for him, ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “I want you to understand a lot of people are going to say a lot of things about your dad and Grandpa Griffin. They might even say bad thing about Jackson and me, but they can’t hurt us. If someone says something you can come talk to me. And, if you don’t want to talk to me, you can talk to Jackson or Grand pa Griffin, but it’s nothing worth getting yourself sick over, ok.”

  “Blake and another kid at my school said they read about it on the internet. They said he was really bad. ”

  “No, he wasn’t all bad. He was sweet most of the time and when I told him about you, he was so excited.”