Same Time Next Week (Ch 25)
As always, if you need to catch up, drop back to the INDEX.
Enjoy this chapter, however please know it is NSFW.
In this chapter, Shelby awakens pleasantly surprised by the restful sleep she managed to get in a place that wasn't her own. When she joins Jackson in the bedroom, their chemistry ignites, and Jackson makes it clear he wants her to stay longer. The atmosphere shifts with Shelby taking charge.
When her eyes popped open, she was curled up with her back to the cushions, a thin blanket over her and the TV was off. She heard movement in the house but it was relatively silent around her. One moment Shelby was staring at the images on the TV, knowing full well she wouldn't sleep and the next minute she was waking up.
Shelby was surprised she'd been able to sleep in a house that wasn't hers, on a couch no less, but she supposed it caught up with her eventually. She actually felt rested and alert and grateful for a few short hours of dreamless, peaceful sleep.
She sat up, stretching, gathering the blanket around her and folding it. She noticed Jackson's shoes from the night before were gone, as was his shirt. Her shoes had been placed neatly under the side table near her purse, blouse and bra. The to-go containers, forks, and wine glasses from the night before were gone and the room was clean.
A check of the kitchen revealed the same. Every dish was put away, the coffeepot emptied and wiped clean, the countertop void of food or gadget or dish. Maybe he did actually use the kitchen and was an incredible neat freak.
She climbed the stairs, headed toward the bedroom where the sounds seemed to be coming from. The bed was made, her jeans folded in a neat square and sitting on top of the cotton comforter.
"Hey," she said softly, stepping into the room and peeking around the corner. Jackson's head poked out of the walk-in closet-mostly his hair and eyes.
"Hi. You didn't sleep long."
"I never do. But I feel okay. Was I cranky?"
His head disappeared back into the closet, but his voice carried from inside it. Shelby sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to ruin his perfect bed making job. He was kind of a neat freak. It was amusing. "Not all. You seemed like you could use a nap. Glad you feel better."
"Thanks. So...I should probably get out of your hair."
He stepped out of the closet, flipping the light switch off. With not nearly as much care to his bed making job, he flopped beside her, stretching out, crossing one ankle over the other. "You're not in my hair."
She fought a smile, a knowing one, but didn't fight the stirring in her belly or the hardening of her nipples or the spreading slick wetness between her thighs. Nor did she fight the gentle pulling on her hand, bringing her closer to him until she was lying next to him on the bed.