Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything I need to say. I need her to understand, to truly grasp how she owns every part of my being. “This—what we have—I’m going in blind too. This is all new to me, too, Peach. I’ve never felt like my heart is being ripped from my chest for the fear of losing you. The fear of not having you in my arms for the rest of my life. Tell me what to do to make you understand. Tell me what I need to—”
“Just kiss me.”
Her words are all I need. I take her mouth, needing to taste her. My tongue finds hers, and I kiss her like a man starved.
“I just want to be enough for you.”
“Peach, you’re more than enough,” I murmur as I gently lift her into my arms. “You’re my everything. Without you, I’m completely lost.”
I carry her upstairs to my bedroom, holding her as if she’s the most delicate treasure in the world, and lay her on the bed, my eyes never leaving hers. “Jackson,” she whispers, and I know exactly what she’s asking for. I slide her sweatpants down her legs, smoothly over her cast, followed by her panties. I do my best to be gentle, but it’s been too long since I’ve had her in my mouth. “You’re already glistening for me, Peach.”
“Always,” she moans, her back lifting off the bed at my first swipe over her pussy.
“Tell me how much you missed my mouth on your pretty cunt.”
“So much. More.” I suck her lips into my mouth and slip two fingers into her warmth. Her moans are the finest wine, the most potent drug. I work her faster, knowing she needs this as much as I do. Her walls squeeze my fingers, and I add another… then another. Her pussy starts to convulse around my fingers. I tear off my slacks and slide into the most beautiful place in the world, needing to feel her around my cock. Our moans are in sync as I fuck her, slow and deep.
“Say it, Peach. Tell me while I stroke my cock in and out of my pussy.”
“I love you, Jackson.”
Fuck, that’s music to my ears. I grip her hips, working deeper, fighting not to hurt her.
“Love you, Peach. You’re mine. For a goddamn lifetime.” I fuck her until she’s delirious. Then I make the sweetest kind of love to her as she imprints herself onto my soul.
Epilogue
Georgia
Ten months later…
“Tell me this wasn’t a mistake?”
He doesn’t respond, and it’s a shame. I could really use some support right now. “I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior but still be lovable. He needs love. Not that I don’t give him enough, but the kind that says, ‘Hey, stop being so crabby.’”
The past ten months have been a wild ride—a heavy mix of love, lots of insane sex, unforgettable moments, and us learning to be us. But they haven't come without their fair share of challenges.
At the end of the summer, we spent countless days locked away in his room, peeling back every layer of each other’s hearts. We learned how to navigate our relationship in public, which wasn’t easy at first. There was judgment, whispers, and speculation. But Jackson? He didn’t care. Not even for a second. He never flinched at what anyone thought or said about us. His only concern was me—what I wanted, how I felt—and because of that, I was the happiest I’d ever been.
Before school started, we visited Mom, and her transformation has been breathtaking. She looked like a completely different person from the fragile woman I saw at the hospital. And knowing that was because of Jackson only deepened my love for him.
To my surprise, Bill was nowhere to be seen during our visit. I asked about him, but everyone fell silent. I have a feeling Jackson had something to do with that as well.
When it was time to return to school, I faced a decision, though the answer felt obvious. Going back wasn’t an option. There were too many memories tied to that place. Memories I wasn’t ready to face, and with Noah gone, it didn't feel right. I applied and was accepted to the local university, where I began my sophomore year as an off-campus resident. Jackson insisted on it, adamant about keeping me far away from any “horny college boys.” I couldn’t argue with him—not when his protective streak was one of the many things I adored about him.
“Unless you want to see me murder a man for looking your way, just mark no to that box, Peach.”
“For the on-campus housing? Staying on campus is part of the experience. College parties—”
“Say another word, and I’m going to tie you to my bed for the semester. You can take online classes.”