Ace of Spades (14 page)

Chapter 13

Full
house

         
Standing
in the middle of Jackson’s living room, Melody felt lost.

         
“Well, this is it,” she said grimly. “I’m officially homeless.”

         
Jackson’s arms enfolded her, hugging her from behind. “No, you’re not,” he
whispered against her hair. “You can live here with me.”

         
“Don’t you think that’s a little fast?” Melody protested.
“From
stranger to employee to friend to… um, roommate in a matter of days?”

         
Jackson turned her in his arms. “First of all, let’s get one thing straight. We
were never strangers, merely inconveniently and temporarily estranged friends.
Second, it’s not fast. I’ve wanted you for more than eight years. I’ve
never
waited for anything that long in my life. And third, you’re not my roommate.
You’re my girl and I take care of what’s mine.”

         
Melody rose up on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips. “I love you,
Jackson
Blackner
. But I don’t need taking care of.”

         
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Jackson said softly, tracing the line of Melody’s
collarbone with the callused tip of his finger. Heat blazed in his sapphire
eyes. “Because I love you, it’s my job to take care of you. And intend to do it
well.”

         
Melody cocked her head to the side, giving him a coy smile. “Is that so?”

         
“
Mmhmm
.”
He hooked his
finger through the strap of her sundress and slid it off her shoulder. He
brushed his lips across the bare expanse of skin. Melody’s mouth went dry as
heat coursed through her.

         
Clearing her throat, she stepped back. “Is Maria home?”

         
“I don’t know let me check,” Jackson said with a grin. “Maria,” he shouted. “Maria!
Are you in here? I need you to take a break so I can get laid. Maria!”

         
Melody gasped and smacked him playfully. “She better not
have
heard that. The woman is practically you’re mother.”

         
Jackson’s grin disappeared. “She is
nothing
like my mother,” he said flatly.

         
“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean it like that.”

         
“I know. It’s okay.” Giving her a soft, reassuring smile, he took her hand in
his and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “She’s not here, by the way. She’s
visiting her mother at a nursing home in Paradise Hills.”

         
“Oh.” Melody felt like a teenager without adult supervision, suddenly alone
with the boy she’d had a crush on forever and a night of endless
possibilities. 

         
They could have sex in every room of this enormous house, on every perfectly
polished surface. And there was nothing to stop them. No unwanted boyfriend. No
qualms about Jackson’s lifestyle. No unwelcome company.
Just
her and Jackson.

         
“Um, is that a baby grand?” Melody diverted, stepping through an archway into
the next room. The room held a drum set, several guitars on stands, his father’s
trumpet, and a massive, glossy black piano in the middle of it all.

         
Jackson chuckled at her redirection, not at all deflected. “No. It’s an
antique, handcrafted
Bosendorfer
Grand imported from
Vienna.”

         
“Does it sound as beautiful as it looks?”

         
Pride of ownership was evident in his smile.
“Even better.”

         
“Play for me, Jackson, like you used to,” Mel asked, depressing one of the
shiny white keys to elicit a beautiful tone.

         
Jackson smiled at her. “Only if you’ll play with me like
you
used to.”

         
“Deal,” Mel agreed. “But it would sound so much better without me.”

         
His lips twisted into a half smile. “No. Everything is better with you. Some
music you hear with your heart and feel with your soul.”

         
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you if your heart and soul run screaming from
the room, covering their ears as they go,” Melody countered with a rueful
chuckle.

         
Jackson shook his head. “Don’t bet on it. I’m not going anywhere. I’m all in,
heart and soul.”

         
“You might change your tune if you hear me sing,” Melody joked, belying the
sweet satisfaction his words induced.

         
“Well then, we’ll just have to stick to playing duets and see if we can find
other uses for that beautiful mouth of yours,” Jackson chuckled, pulling out
the piano bench and indicating for Melody to sit.

         
She obediently sat on one end of the bench, leaving the other for him to sit
beside her as he’d done when they were children. But instead he slid her toward
the center of the bench and seated himself behind her, each of his thighs
cradling the backs of hers as he molded her back to his front.

         
His nearness made her breath catch in her throat and her heart flutter in her
chest. Every inch of his long, lean body cradled her smaller, feminine one --
from her shoulders against his broad chest to her pale arms aligned with his
colorful ones. Jackson’s cheek brushed against her temple as he leaned over her
shoulder and rested his hands next to hers on the ivory piano keys.

         
His hands looked so strong and capable, so natural up against the pristine
black and white ivory. Music was Jackson’s home, his happy place, and the
instruments seemed to identify him as one of their own.

         
“Chopsticks for old times’ sake?”

         
Melody laughed. “I doubt this gorgeous piano has ever produced something so
rudimentary.”

         
‘We’ll just have to jazz it up a bit then,” Jackson said, a smile evident in
his voice.

         
Melody obediently plucked out the basic notes of ‘Chopsticks’ that he’d taught
her when they were children. Jackson’s fingers began to dance beside hers,
filling in her simplistic tune with a complex accompaniment that morphed the
song into something entirely different.

         
Closing her eyes, Melody stopped playing and listened to Jackson’s music.
Through his music she could see his soul, beautiful and bare to only her. This
was the boy she knew. This was the man she loved.

         
The melody transitioned from his lively, complex rendition of ‘Chopsticks’ into
something much different. It was dark and emotional.
Beautiful
and mesmerizing.
Full of life and love.

         
Melody rested her hands lightly on top of Jackson’s as he played, relishing the
feel of his talented fingers moving beneath her touch.

         
His lips brushed softly against her cheek, his fingers never missing a note as
he played his song with effortless ease. Melody sighed and arched beneath his
kiss, offering up the bare expanse of her neck for his tender affection.
Jackson trailed light kisses down her neck to her collar bone.

         
“I’ve wanted to taste and kiss every inch of your body since we were sixteen
years old,” Jackson confessed huskily, his breath tickling her sensitive skin
as he spoke.

         
Melody tipped her head back to look at him. His azure eyes gleamed with passion
and desire, like the flames of a candle dancing in the breeze. He was so
beautiful -- from his tousled, dark head to his toes. Mel swept back the lock
of hair that was ever falling across his brow and smiled. “Then do it.”

         
With a low growl, Jackson scooped her up in his arms and placed her on the
piano. The ivory keys cried out in protest as Melody sank onto the keyboard,
but her thundering heartbeat drowned out the sound. Jackson hungrily covered
her mouth with his, tasting and teasing. His kisses left her breathless and
weak, aching for more. When he kissed her she was alive and she was beautiful.

         
Feathering soft kisses along her jaw line, Jackson swept Melody’s hair aside
and found her ear, teasing the sensitive shell with his tongue. The sensation
made the fine hair at the nape of her neck stand on end and jolts of
electricity race down her spine. His mouth ventured lower, tasting the hollow
where her jaw met her neck.

         
With the sweet
heat
of his mouth, he explored the length
of her neck, tracing the delicate indent at the base of her throat with his
tongue. Melody arched beneath his ministrations, willing him to continue lower,
to move faster and satiate the need building within her. But, Jackson clearly
was in no hurry. He took his time with each kiss, as though he wanted to make
the moment last forever.
As though he hoped to make love to
her forever.

         
Hungry for more and as impatient as ever, Melody tangled her fingers in his
hair and dragged his mouth back up to hers. With her kisses she told him how
desperately she wanted him, needed him. With ravenous ardor she begged him to
make love to her. She’d wanted Jackson
Blackner
for
so long. And she’d waited long enough.

         
Continuing to ply his mouth with heated kisses, Melody reached down to grasp
the length of his long, hard shaft through the fabric of his pants. Jackson
sucked in a sharp breath and chuckled against her parted lips.

         
“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you? But I’m afraid you’ll have to
wait, love.” He traced the fullness of her lower lip with his index finger. “I’m
a
very
patient man. And I have waited a long, long time for you, so I
intend to take my time with you. I want to learn you, memorize you. Like a
guitar, fine-tuned for only me to play, I want to know exactly what sounds you’ll
make when I stroke you.

         
“Like this,” he whispered, sliding his deft fingers beneath the fabric of her
panties to gently tease the sensitive bud between the slick folds of her
femininity.

         
Melody gasped as delicious shivers raced through her.

         
“Or this,” Jackson said softly.

         
Those same talented fingers delved into her moist depths and Melody moaned with
the pleasure of his invasion.
More
.
All she
wanted was more.
More of him, his touch, his taste.
She wanted him to bury himself deep within her, to give of himself until they
were no longer two, but one.

         
Jackson’s cobalt eyes locked with hers as he slowly lifted those fingers to his
lips. Melody couldn’t help but lick her own lips as she watched his beautiful
mouth part and close around those same fingers, tasting her heated essence.

         
“Mmm,” he rumbled softly.  “You taste better than I imagined, Mel. Like
sweet cream and peaches. I want to--”

         
Enough talk
. Tangling her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck,
she dragged Jackson’s mouth to hers. Crushing her lips to his, she kissed him
with all the hunger, desire, and frustration roiling within her.

         
“Touch me, kiss me, taste me,” she gasped breathlessly between kisses. “Please,
Jackson, I don’t care what you call it, just stop talking and make love to me.”

         
Cradling her face in his hands, Jackson kissed her deeply, making love to her
with the tender ardor of his kisses. With a low growl, he molded his body into
hers and pressed her against the hard surface of the piano. Melody melted
beneath him, heat and desire spreading through her veins like wildfire.

         
Jackson broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, his breathing
shallow and ragged.  “That’s the problem, Mel. I’ve never done this
before.”

         
Maybe she should’ve felt bad for scoffing, but she couldn’t repress the sound.
Melody sat up and regarded him through narrowed eyes. He had to be joking.

         
“Oh, Jackson.
It’s sweet that you want me to think
that, but you and I both know that’s not true.”

         
Jackson chuckled, a low throaty sound that did funny things to Melody’s
insides.

         
“That’s not what I meant, Mel. Hell, I’ve screwed, banged, fucked, humped, and
done just about everything imaginable to countless women,” he confessed with a
rueful smile, but then his face grew serious, full of tenderness. “But I’ve
never made love to anyone before.”

         
Although Melody had no delusions about his sexual history, she didn’t want to
think about all the women he’d taken to his bed and done those things to. She
wanted to be his first, his last, and his only. Though she would never be his
first, she could be the first that mattered. And she could be his last.

         
“That’s okay, baby,” she said with a teasing grin. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

         
Jackson’s eyes danced with laughter. “I hope not too gentle.”

         
Melody leaned in close until their lips almost touched and whispered, “I have a
feeling you can handle it anyway I give it.”