Infuriating, p.11
Infuriating, page 11
Jackson chuckled as he flexed his hips, slipping even deeper into the tight heat of Day’s body. “Christ, you’re so tight.”
Day came up onto his knees before sinking all the way back down. “Does that feel good, Daddy?”
“So good. Do it again, baby,” Jackson murmured.
Day did as he was told—once and then again—until he found a rhythm. “Oh, fuck. God, why does that feel so good? You feel so good inside me.” Jackson wrapped his arms around Day, holding him still so he could fuck up into him. “Oh, my God,” Day moaned. “I want more, Daddy.”
Jesus. Day might literally be the end of Jackson. He didn’t think he’d refuse him anything. If he said he wanted a wedding ring, Jackson probably would have dropped to one knee, he was so gone on Day. Jackson stayed inside Day as he made his way to the side of the bed, holding him close. “You want more?” Jackson asked, biting Day’s bottom lip.
“I want all of it,” Day begged. “Fuck me, Daddy.”
“Put your arms around my neck.”
Day’s eyes went wide, and for just a moment, he looked a bit apprehensive, but he wrapped his arms around Jackson anyway, locking his hands behind his neck. Jackson slipped his arms under Day’s knees and stood. Day moaned, gripping Jackson tighter as his cock slipped all the way inside. “Oh, my God,” Day moaned.
Jackson lifted Day, pulling almost all the way free before dropping him down again. Day gasped, “More.”
Jackson gave Day what he asked for, grateful for Day’s slight frame as he lifted him up and slammed him back down until Day’s head was thrown back and he was all but wailing at Jackson.
“Harder,” he begged. “Please.”
Jackson walked forward until Day’s back rested against the wall and he had the leverage he needed to drive up into him, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt, driving Day’s breath from his lungs with every thrust. Day was hard again, his cock leaking between them as Jackson fucked into him again and again until his thighs burned and they were both slick with sweat.
Day’s eyes were closed, his head back, words spilling from his swollen red lips. “I need to come, Daddy. I need it. Please. Please.”
Jackson could listen to Day begging forever, especially if it meant being buried in the tight warmth of his hole.
He walked back to the bed and dropped Day on the mattress, pushing his legs up into his chest before sliding back into him. “Touch yourself. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Day’s gaze was glazed, and he bit down on his lip in a moan as his hand closed around his cock, and he began to stroke himself hard and fast, only worried about his desperate need to get off. Watching Day touch himself only drove Jackson closer to his own release. When Jackson shifted, Day gave a cry of surprise that turned into a long, low moan. “Oh, God. Right there. Right there. Oh, my God. Please don’t stop. I’m so close. I’m so close. Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come, Jackson. I’m gonna come.”
Day painted his stomach and chest with his release, his hole spasming around Jackson’s cock in a way that shot heat into his belly, that spread to his limbs, his balls tightening until his hips stuttered off rhythm and he was grinding into Day’s ass, cock throbbing as he came deep inside him.
Jackson stayed where he was until his brain came back online. When he went to withdraw from Day, he wrapped his legs around Jackson’s waist and whined. “No, not yet.”
Jackson chuckled, leaning down to kiss Day’s forehead, his nose, and finally his lips, his softening cock slipping free. Day groaned. Jackson padded naked into the bathroom, relieving himself and then wetting a washcloth, wiping himself down and then taking it to Day who was now on his belly, eyelids at half-mast as he watched Jackson come towards him.
Jackson cleaned him gently, checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt Day. He could see his cum leaking from Day’s hole. If Jackson could have gotten hard again, he would have. He gently slipped a finger back inside Day, who gasped at the unexpected intrusion. “You liked coming inside me,” Day said, voice muffled. “Do you have a breeding kink, you big perv?”
Did he? Jackson had never thought so before, but he couldn’t help the feeling building in him as he fingered Day’s loosened hole, feeling the wetness inside him. He pulled free, wiping his fingers off before gently cleaning Day once more and gathering him into his arms.
Day wiggled like a child trying to escape a parent’s embrace. “Is this cuddling?” he said grumpily. “I hate it.”
“You do not,” Jackson said. “Besides, I demand post-coital cuddles. Fight me.”
Day didn’t fight. If anything, he wiggled closer, molding himself against Jackson’s side and resting his head over his heart. “Fine. I guess this isn’t so bad.”
Jackson shook his head, smiling. “You don’t always have to be so prickly, you know.”
“My spirit animal is a porcupine,” Day muttered, sounding sleepy. “Was it okay?”
Jackson looked down at the top of Day’s head. “Was what okay? The sex?”
Day craned his head up. “No, my interpretive dance. Yes, the sex. Was it okay?”
So prickly. Jackson smiled. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
Day rubbed his face against Jackson’s chest. “I thought I did pretty good, but it’s nice to hear. Everybody likes compliments.”
Jackson laughed. “You are one of a kind, Dayton. I’ll give you that.”
“I’ll take it,” Dayton murmured sleepily.
“Go to sleep, Day. We have to be up early.”
Day didn’t respond. A moment later, the sound of soft snoring reached Jackson through his haze of sleep. He wrapped his arm around Day tighter, knowing that sleepy, cuddly Day wasn’t who Jackson would wake up with. Day might have decided that Jackson was worthy of his virginity, but he still wasn’t ready to trust Jackson with his heart. But Jackson was patient. He’d wait him out.
Day couldn’t stall forever. Could he?
Day sat in his own seat on the plane home, his socked feet tucked beneath him, clutching his venti quad shot mocha latte in his hands as he gazed out the window at the world below. Jackson sat across from him, his laptop open, typing furiously with just two fingers. Day took a sip of his coffee to hide his smile. He might not know how to type, but he knew it required more than just hunting and pecking with your pointer fingers, but Jackson seemed to have adapted just fine.
Jackson had woken him that morning with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Kevin had woken him up by plopping his fat furry ass on his chest and swishing his tail across his face. The ginger terror was now purring in his carrier on the seat beside Jackson, giving Day a supercilious look. Kevin was a smug cat. Day decided he didn’t like smug felines. He shifted to reach for his earbuds and winced as he put his full weight on his ass. No matter how good Jackson’s cock had felt last night, Day was paying for it this morning.
“Are you alright?” Jackson asked, brows knitted together in concern.
Day gave him a half smile. “I’m fine. Nothing a bit of time won’t fix.”
Jackson pushed a button on the chair. “I’m going to be taking a conference call for the next hour. Please don’t disturb us.”
“Yes, sir,” Paolo said, his tone making it clear that he didn’t think there was a conference call.
The look on Jackson’s face made Day think there was no conference call, either. What was Jackson up to? He stood, pulling Day up with him and leading him over to the bench seat. “Kneel.”
“W-What?” Day said, flushing at the way he stuttered.
“Kneel on the seat. Now.”
Day shivered at Jackson’s authoritarian tone, but he did what he asked, feeling ridiculous. “What are you—”
Day gasped as Jackson dragged Day’s joggers and underwear down to his knees, his traitorous cock semi-hard just from Jackson’s barking tone. Jackson spread Day’s cheeks apart. Day dropped his head to his forearm, equal parts humiliated and turned on. Jackson’s finger probed Day’s entrance, but there was nothing sexy about it. He was almost clinical in his inspection.
“I’m just a little sore. You want to kiss it and make it better?”
Jackson’s finger disappeared, and there was some movement behind him. Day was about to shift to look over his shoulder when he felt Jackson’s beard scrape against one side of his ass, then the other. Before he could fully understand Jackson’s intent, the broad sweep of his tongue licked across Day’s entrance.
“Jesus, Jackson.”
Jackson’s palm cracked against Day’s bare ass, ripping a gasp from his lungs. “Is that how you address me?”
Day moaned, spreading his legs without thought, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. “No, Daddy.” Jackson bit Day’s bottom on both cheeks, hard enough to leave impressions, and Day pushed back, wanting more. “Spank me again, Daddy,” he begged, voice breathy.
Jackson’s palm came down hard on Day’s other cheek, and then Jackson was burying his face between his cheeks, his tongue laving over his entrance until Day’s nails were digging into the leather seat before him, moaning like he was performing in one of his shows. But this wasn’t an act. Jackson was dragging the sounds from Day with every touch until he heard himself mewling. Maybe they’d blame Kevin for the sounds Day was making?
Was this seriously happening? Was Jackson eating him out on a private jet with six other people on the opposite side of what had to be a not very sturdy divider? Jackson gripped his ass, pulling him apart so he could tease the tip of his tongue against Day’s abused hole. The ache combined with Jackson’s soft tongue had Day pushing himself back against Jackson, desperate for more.
Jackson pulled back, but before Day could protest, Jackson was pulling Day’s cock back between his legs, licking him from his tip all the way back to his hole. Day moaned as Jackson teased and played with him. It was so dirty, but so hot. When Jackson spit in his hand and wrapped it around Day’s cock, he was already so close to coming. Jackson’s tongue returned to his hole, fucking his tongue into him, as he jerked him in long, slow pulls that made Day’s eyes roll back from pleasure.
“Daddy…” Day managed before dropping his head to his forearm and burying his teeth in the flesh there. He couldn’t talk. His whole body was hot and flushed, his legs shaking, and he whimpered out pathetic sounds as he tried to force himself not to come.
Jackson pulled back. “That feel good, baby?”
“Nff,” was all Day could manage, all brain function ceasing until only pleasure remained.
“You can come whenever you want. You’ve been so good for me these last two days. My perfect boy.”
Jackson jerked Day faster, his mouth still teasing his entrance, sucking and nibbling at the tender skin until Day’s balls were tight against his body, his orgasm building like a spring winding tighter and tighter. He gave a hoarse cry, his cum spilling onto the leather bench seat below. Day stared at the evidence of his release, idly wondering if cum stained leather as he dragged air into his lungs.
Jackson pulled Day’s clothing back into place and gave him a chaste kiss on the back of the neck, leaving Day on his knees and returning to his abandoned laptop. He walked to the back of the plane where the restroom was, locking the door and closing the toilet seat, sitting heavy on the lid.
Day had no idea what he was doing...what they were doing. Some part of him felt guilty. Jackson was fun and sexy and he thought Day was great, no matter how surly and prickly he tried to be. But Jackson didn’t know everything. He hardly knew anything. There was a difference between being a grumpy person and a bad person. Day was just a bad person.
An image of Sarah swam into his mind, her skin sallow, a tube between her lips. Los Angeles had been her dream. She was the one who was supposed to wind up jet setting around the world in private jets. Day was always going to be her people. The one who just did things to make her life easier, whatever that entailed. It wasn’t fair that he was there, riding in a private jet, having mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous rich man. He didn’t deserve any of it.
Day tried to tell himself that he and Jackson weren’t a forever thing, no matter how good he was at making Day feel that way. This wasn’t a whirlwind romance. It was a fling. He just needed his heart to get on board with that. Maybe he deserved to have his heart broken. Maybe that would somehow level the score between him and Sarah. Was a broken heart the equivalent of murder? Probably not. Day splashed water onto his face and flushed the toilet, even though he hadn’t done anything.
Once back in his chair, he popped in his earbuds and connected to the plane’s wi-fi. Jackson’s gaze flicked to him as if to make sure Day wasn’t about to open the plane’s door and dive out, but then he went back to his typing, clearly satisfied with whatever expression he saw on Day’s face.
Day clicked the button that autosaved his email login information and clicked on the first of several emails, closing his eyes as he listened to notifications for everything from fifteen percent off botox to a reminder that he needed to pay his internet bill.
Day was half dozing when the voice began to read a text that stood out from the rest.
You fucking whore. Day gasped, his hands fumbling with the phone, dropping it to the floor and somehow turning off his earbuds. The computerized male voice filled the room, sounding shrill and hysterical to Day’s ears in what was once the silent vacuum of the cabin.
How dare you let him touch you like that? How dare you kneel before him like he’s good enough for you? Have you let him inside you yet? Have you? Has he tainted you with his filthy hands and cock? You best pray the answer is no. I’ll slit his fucking throat just like I did that pig district attorney. How fucking dare you? Do you know the lengths I’ve gone to in order to be the first to make love to you? Do you? You best hope you’re still clean and that he hasn’t defiled you with his seed, you dirty slut. You disgusting whore. Whore. Whore. Whore.
Day was shaking by the time Jackson put his laptop aside and reached for the phone, silencing the speaker. “Another message? Is that a message from the site?”
Day shook his head, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “That was my puh-personal email,” Day said, hating that his brain hung on the p for too long, hoping somehow Jackson didn’t hear it. “He knows my real name, Jackson. He knows who I am.”
“Come here.”
Day shook his head, clenching his hands into fists to try to quell the shaking, but he couldn’t stop the feeling like his organs were quivering with fear.
“Dayton, come here.”
Day stood, walking the two short steps to Jackson. He pulled Day into his lap, cradling him. He hated himself for dropping his head on Jackson’s shoulder and letting himself be held. “He said he killed Juh-Jay. He killed Jay because of me. This is all my fault.”
Jackson kissed Day’s forehead. “Stop that. It is not your fault that some lunatic imagined some connection with you. He’s clearly unstable. Maybe now that he’s used your personal email, we’ll be able to see where he’s sending them from.” Jackson flipped through Day’s other emails while he held his breath. “As soon as we touch down, I’ll get my guys working on this. He’s clearly devolving. He’s bound to make a mistake.”
Day shook his head. “What if he hurts somebody else to try to get to me?”
“Then it still won’t be your fault, but I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I won’t let anything happen to you, Day. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“No. No fucking way,” Day said, stomping his foot like a toddler.
“Day, be reasonable.”
“It’s reasonable to expect a certain level of privacy, Jackson,” Day countered, his head wobbling back and forth, hands on his hips, like he was ready to fight until his last breath.
Webster sat with his ass half on the arm of the sofa, arms crossed over his chest, his blond hair flopping into his eyes, his glasses perched on his nose, watching Jackson and Day’s exchange with some amusement. It was the first time Jackson had contemplated punching the tech wizard.
“Not when somebody wants to murder you!” Jackson growled through gritted teeth.
Day pushed his way into Jackson’s personal space, standing on tiptoe until they were almost nose to nose. Jackson could literally feel his breath puffing against his lips. Day smelled like toothpaste. “Don’t think you can just go all ‘grr’ on me and I’m going to wilt like some fucking flower, Jackson Avery. I’m not afraid of you.”
Jackson threw up his hands. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I want you to be reasonable, which it seems is something you’re completely incapable of doing, even when somebody might be trying to murder you.”
“I’m sorry that I won’t just hand over my laptop to a total stranger, but I need it to work. You know what work is, right? I don’t have houses around the world and employees who jump when I snap my fingers. I have to pay my rent. I have to keep my lights on. Just because I’m living here doesn’t mean my other life ceases to exist. I can’t work without my laptop.”
“I’ll pay your bills!” Jackson shouted, his tone somewhere between exasperated and infuriated.
He never got mad. Ever. It wasn’t something he considered worthy of his time or energy. There was nothing that couldn’t be fixed if you just came at the problem logically and with an open mind. At least, that’s what he’d thought before Day had steadfastly refused to hand over his laptop so that Webster could check it to see if it was being monitored remotely somehow. That was an hour ago.
“If I might interject,” Webster finally said, holding up a hand. “I don’t actually need the laptop to come with me. I can just mirror the hard drive and check it that way. Even though it would probably be better if you weren’t using it until we know for sure whether it's got a virus or spyware on it. We don’t want him tracking you.”
Day blew air out of his nose, his face sullen. “Why didn’t you just say that then?”
“Who could get a word in edgewise?” Webster asked.
