Best Laid Plans (11 page)

The movement distracts me,
and it takes a second for his words to sink in. “What?”

“That was your lesson. I needed
you to be so frustrated trying to think and feel that you just surrendered. And
you did—you surrendered to me. You’re so sweet and trusting.”

I’m trying to decide how I
feel about his sex agenda, so my “Thank you” is on auto pilot.

“It’s not a compliment. Life
isn’t kind. It grinds up the sweet and trusting.” He gets out of the bed and
tosses the condom in the wastebasket. “You should be protected.” He hangs the
mirror back over the door and picks up his pants. My heart sinks a little.

“I guess this is good-night.”
I sound petulant, even to me.

He looks at me curiously. “Are
you going to think I’m leaving every time I pick up my pants? I’m getting my
cell phone. I have to call Ron and tell him to go home.”

He’s spending the night and
Ron is the first to know? Part of me is glad and part of me is a little annoyed.
I may like his take-charge attitude during sex, but couldn’t he at least
include me in on his plans?

He turns to face me, and his
smile turns to granite. “All right, Ron. I’ll call you tomorrow morning when I’m
ready.” He puts his phone down and crosses his arms. “I’m beginning to
recognize your expressions. You’re setting me up for failure.”

“I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” I say defensively.

“You’ve got your tight lips
on. That means I’ve disappointed you. Let me guess. I didn’t ask if I could
stay overnight.”

“I thought that…briefly.”

“Right.
Thought.
But
what you told me when you were
feeling
was that you were afraid I was
going to use you and then leave. Then you thanked me
for not leaving. That
made it very clear I was invited. Or are you just looking for all the little dating
conventions? Is that what your other boyfriends would do? I’m sure they were
very sweet and had very nice little apartments, and very nice little cars, and
very nice little bosses who told them what to do. That is not me. People don’t
tell me what to do. I have worked very hard all my life for that privilege. So
don’t think you can change me into someone who wastes time with all that
etiquette crap. Decide now. Tell me to go, if you want me to go.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I
want you to stay.” He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. I’m starting to
recognize his expressions, too. “Please.”

Jackson slides in next to me,
and the weight of him feels so good, even my bed moans. I give him a kiss on
the lips and then stretch to turn off the lamp on my nightstand. Jackson presses
himself against my back, and his arm circles my waist. I lay back down and he
moves his mouth to my ear, whispering, “Last time I got in this bed, you
thanked me for not leaving.”

“If we do this again, please
gag me.”

“If? You’ll find I’m not an
easy man to get rid of. Now thank me again and we can go to sleep.”

I let go of my mental walls. I
snuggle up to him and enjoy the feel of his body. “Thank you.”

“Just one more time, Jillian.
And add,
sir
.”

I hesitate. When I’m not
wrapped up in the passion of the moment, it’s harder for me to play the part of
a submissive. I know he senses my hesitation. I can feel his grip around my waist
tightening. His lips are at my ear again, and I expect a reprimand.

“Please.” That simple word,
spoken softly, and sincerely—it unravels all the tension and second-guessing in
my mind. The man who doesn’t do etiquette is using the magic word.

“Thank you, sir.”

His lips hover at the back of
my neck, leaving a trail of kisses between my shoulder blades. Then he settles
beside me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel completely at peace.

Thank you for reading my
book!  Jillian and Jackson’s story continues in
Best Laid Plans – Book 2:
Going Awry. 
Look for it in early November, 2015.

To get on my mailing list, or
find out about upcoming books, please be sure to visit my website:
www.RobynKellyAuthor.com
. 
Hopefully, that will be up in early November, too!