Engagement Rate (The Callaghan Green Series Book 1) Read online

  "Where do you want to start?" Jackson said. "Bedroom?" He raised his eyebrows and gave me a grin which made my legs feel boneless.

  I smiled shyly, or a shyly as I could muster. "Is that just to put our bags away? Is my room next to yours?" I made my eyes grow wide and innocent.

  He headed up, taking the bags, muttering something under his breath.

  "Shall I follow?"

  He stopped halfway up and looked down at me. "If you don't I'll come back down and carry you up," he said, eyes blazing.

  I kicked off my shoes and followed him up, the carpet squishing between my toes. It felt new and plump and I wondered how it would feel against my back and the likelihood of burns.

  "What was that sigh for?" Jackson said, opening one of the doors on the corridor upstairs.

  "The carpet," I said, "It's amazing."

  "Seriously? That little sex moan was over the carpet?" he paused at the door. "Do I need to get that carpet throughout my house?"

  I dug my toes into the carpet and half closed my eyes. "Maybe we should test out how comfy it is first?"

  I stepped into the room. "Your bedchamber, madam," he said and ushered me through, surprising me by not taking me up on the offer to test out the carpet for purposes other than standing on.

  And then I knew why.

  The room put most hotels to shame: the same thick carpet, a huge super king bed, feature wallpaper with a seaside theme and French doors leading out onto a decked area that dropped down into the gardens. I followed Jackson to the balcony and saw a hot tub that he was inspecting, taking photos with his phone. "What do you think?" he said. "Is Marie going to be happy with the room?"

  "This was what was being done?" I noticed the en-suite, the door slightly ajar.

  "All the bedrooms have been redecorated with new bathrooms. And this and the master bedroom have had hot tubs installed. I think she's hoping it'll encourage us to come home more," he said, heading back inside. "Want to see the rest?"

  I followed him around the top floor of the main house, into each of the bedrooms, all decorated subtly, each slightly different. I felt a pang for my apartment, now in Richard's care, and how I'd decorated it, missing my furnishing and curtains but not him and I knew it was time to move on. I needed my own place as soon as the apartment was sold, which could still be a few months away.

  Three bedrooms were in the annexed buildings, all on the ground floor, two with their own living areas and kitchens.

  "How long has all of this taken?" I asked.

  "Four weeks, I think. Marie handed keys over to a project manager the day before they flew to Canada. It was a big team of people though. Looks like they've done a good job," he fidgeted on his phone for a few seconds and I heard the sound of an email being sent.

  "You sent her the photos?"

  He nodded. "Job done. I was worried if we started testing the carpet I'd forget." I eyed him up and down, desire suddenly streaking through me and pooling between my legs. I was coming to terms with the lack of battle between us and how easy he made everything feel, like there was always a solution and right now, here, with no one around us for what felt like miles, I wanted to drown in him for a little while.

  "Where do you want to start?" I said. We were in the largest of the annexed bedrooms, this one decorated with grey striped wallpaper and teak furniture. It was masculine and screamed Maxwell.

  "Here?" he said, trapping me against the walls with his arms. I put my hands on his chest, inhaling his scent. He felt firm and rigid. Solid.

  "This is Maxwell's usual room, isn't it?"

  "How did you guess?"

  "It's very him. And you want to christen this room before him, don't you?"

  He made a non-committal sound, one hand pushing my hair away from my face. Then he leaned in and kissed me, his mouth demanding and my hands looped around his neck. I let myself be powerless to his plundering, enjoying the feeling of letting someone else have control. His body pushed against mine and I felt the ridge of his erection through his jeans, pushing myself against it. His fingers glided across my breasts and flicked my nipples, biting my bottom lip.

  My own hands had developed a mind of their own and had undone his belt, sneaking into the space between us. "Eager?" he said with a smile.

  "I want you to fuck me," I said, whispering even though no one could hear.

  I laughed dirtily. "Up against this wall?" It was a painted wall; I wouldn't have risked the wallpaper.

  I pushed down his jeans and found no underwear. His hand was undoing mine, pushing them to my knees. I kicked them off and his fingers slipped into my briefs, finding my wet heat.

  Then he was on his knees, and I was naked from the waist down, his mouth buried between my legs, his hands cupping my ass and pulling me closer into his mouth. He licked and sucked and it took all of three seconds before I'd came, and then my legs were wrapped around his waist and he was inside me, thrusting hard, his eyes on mine.

  The sounds were unrecognizable; I didn't know my own voice as I begged him to fuck me harder, my pussy still pulsating from my first orgasm. His mouth latched onto the side of my neck and he sucked, leaving what would be a mark for the next few days.

  "Fuck, Van, you feel so good. Love being in your pussy," he said but his words barely registered. He was hitting the spot inside me, the holy grail of erogenous zones and I was barely able to hold onto him.

  "I'm coming!" I screamed, not caring now if there was indeed anyone to hear. I watched his eyes as I came, clenching his dick with each spasm and feeling him come deep inside me, filling me up.

  He still held me as our orgasms subsided, his hands underneath my ass, my back against the wall and arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers still holding onto his hair.

  "Let me carry you into the bathroom," he said when he had regained his breath. I looked at him, questioning. "The carpet. When I pull out it'll be messy. I think I just entered the Guinness Book of records for the most jizz in one go."

  I started to laugh, my face creasing and I hid myself in his shoulder as he walked us the shower before pulling out of me, the mix of our fluids trickling down my leg. "Sex is messy," I said, pulling off my top and bra. He stripped out of his shirt.

  "In many ways," he said, turning on the shower. "Let me clean you up." He did so, washing between my legs, keeping the water away from my hair, his hands confident and caring, working their way around my body. "How do you feel?"

  I wondered where his question came from. "Do you really need your ego inflating after that?" I said, laughing.

  He gave me an amused smile. "Other than just having had two spectacular orgasms, how do you feel?"

  "Relaxed, happy, safe," I said, taking the towel he passed me. He flung a towel around himself, water still running over his chest and biceps. He then started to dry me down, softly, carefully, as if I was the most precious, delicate creation. "I can dry myself, Jacks."

  "I know," he said quietly. "But I want you to let me look after you. Doesn't mean you can't do it."

  I brushed my hands through his damp hair as he went again to his knees to dry my legs and in between them. He was half hard again, but his ministrations were tender rather than trying to turn me on, not that it wasn't having that effect anyway. "Who looks after you?"

  He looked up at me, his hands drying my feet. "Maxwell, Claire. The rest of my siblings. Marie and Dad in his own way. And my friends – Amelie especially. I like being in control and having power, Vanessa, it's who I am. But I'm strong enough to know that I can't do everything on my own, unlike Max."

  He was making a point but I decided not to dwell on it. "Will you tell Max you christened his room first?"

  Jackson lightly kissed the inside of my thigh and I realized I was getting wetter rather than dryer in a certain spot. "No. I'll make sure I'm here the next time he visits and I'll just smirk when he comes in here."

  "He'll get revenge."

  "Eventually." He stood up and kissed me, his towel slipped and he pr
essed his body against mine. He was fully hard, his cock pressing against my stomach. I moved my hand down his body and cupped his balls, hearing his sharp intake of breath.

  "I want you again," I said.

  "Carpet? Check out the softness?"

  I took his hand and guided him out of the bathroom; as soon as I found the soft carpet I lay down, guiding him over me and positioning his cock so it was ready to enter.

  "Are you ready for me?" he said, his hands either side of my shoulders.

  I shifted, angling myself so his cock was close to where I wanted it. "So ready. I don't get how you turn me into this pool of raging horniness."

  He moved a hand and checked me, brushing my clit. "As long as it stays that way," he said, pushing into me deeply again. This time he was rougher, harder, his fingers pinching my nipples, teeth biting my neck. He went onto his knees, pulling my hips further up so he was balls deep and at that point, my mind wasn't lost, it was well and truly drowned in the Pacific Ocean, too deep for any search party to even attempt to find.

  I felt Jackson's weight on top of me as he groaned and I wrapped my legs around his waist, keeping him close, keeping him inside me. "I think my body's addicted to your semen," I said, managing to find words eventually. "It's clearly mixed with a cocaine-like substance and I'm going to need it to keep me sane."

  He nuzzled into my neck. "You can have as much of it as you want. Just ask. And you don't always need words to ask." He stretched an arm out and pulled a towel to us. "Lift your hips." He pulled the towel under me and pulled out, watching between my legs. I should've felt vulnerable, being so open, my body there for his viewing. "You look fucking beautiful, lying there, dripping with me." His eyes then met mine and I knew that if he suggested we never returned to London and just stayed here forever I was likely to agree, which in itself, was somewhat of a problem as I really needed to eat.

  "I'd look fucking beautiful eating lunch too," I said, sitting up, thankful for the towel underneath me. "Bathroom, change of clothes and then lunch maybe?" I stood up as he laughed and headed for the toilet, closing the door.

  "There's a decent pub about a mile away through the fields if you fancy a walk there?"

  "Sounds good. A different form of exercise would be nice too." I opened the door and Jackson handed me my briefs and jeans.

  "Or you could stay like that and I'll order in," he said, his eyes flicking to my breasts.

  I stepped into my briefs and then my jeans. "No, Jackson. We need to do something else other than screw each other's brains out."

  He pulled on his top. "Fair enough. I need some recovery time anyway."

  I agreed. His balls must've been pretty well emptied.

  We toured the rest of the house before we left to walk to the pub in the nearby village. The house belonged in a magazine; it was full of discreet touches that made it seem stylish without losing its warmth. Jackson explained what the rooms used to look like when his dad and Marie had seven children running around the place and for a stupid moment I felt the pull of a large family, something I'd never had, with someone always there to play with or talk to.

  My phone had been ignored for the latter part of the morning. When I checked it I saw three missed calls from Sophie and a voicemail.

  "Everything okay?" Jackson said, putting the keys to the house in his pocket after locking the door.

  "Not sure." I listened to the voicemail. "Shit."

  "What is it?"

  "Richard's been round to Sophie's"

  "Is she okay?"

  "Sophie would dismantle him limb from limb before he ever hurt her," I said, dialing her number. "He was looking for me."

  "Vanessa," Sophie said as she answered. "What possessed you to ever go out with that dickhead in the first place?"

  "I don't know," I said. I'd been asking myself that same question for more than a year. "What did he want and are you okay?"

  "I'm fine. He wanted to lament on how you were screwing him over. He no longer has that viewpoint. I put him straight on several matters. On a positive note, he was sober and ended up taking full responsibility for his night spent in the nick." There was a pause. "And then I phoned his dad."

  Holy shitting baby moles. "Why in the name of chocolate would you do that?"

  "You're that mad you can't swear?"

  "Sophie!"

  Jackson looked concerned. "Is she okay?" he said quietly. "I can send Max round to check on her."

  "She's fine. And she'd most likely end your brother's dry spell if you sent him round," I said, knowing full well she could hear me.

  "That would be a great way to say thank you if he's anything like your man toy," Sophie said, her tone of voice lightning. "Look, I did the right thing. Richard's father had no idea about you having split up. He was going to find out sometime and I called under the pretense I was concerned about Richard. He said he would speak to Richard about agreeing on terms quickly over the business and apartment to avoid any further scandal and he apologized for his son's behavior. It won't make any difference to negotiations, Van, but it may speed things up."

  I felt frozen, lingering doubt pushing out of the box where I'd kept it like a serpent trying to choke me. "Did he say anything about me, how I was out of my league..." The words stuck in my throat and I saw Jackson's glare.

  Sophie laughed. "He said: 'I'm surprised she's stuck with him that long, she had too many brains for him.' From what I've gathered, Richard's cocked up a lot of business deals recently, and his father has reigned in a lot of the responsibility and passed it over to his cousin to firefight. I'm totally ignoring your attempt to belittle yourself, by the way."

  I inhaled deeply. "Thanks, Soph. Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Van, I eat men like Richard for a snack before breakfast. I'll see you tomorrow – actually, make it Monday or Tuesday and I hope you're walking like you've been riding a horse non-stop for days. I'm going shopping with the ex's new piece. I'll send you a selfie." She hung up, leaving me listening to silence and Jackson's muffled laughter.

  "Sophie's got more balls than all my brothers combined. We should introduce her to Max," he said, standing behind me and putting his arms around my waist.

  "You clearly don't value your brother's manliness," I said, leaning into him. "She'd chew him up and spit him into the Thames. Sophie had a part-time job as a Domme at a BDSM club once."

  This time he doesn't muffle his laughter. "Why doesn't that surprise me? She seems to have dealt with your ex okay and she was right, as was his dad."

  "I know," I said, and I did. "It's just – I was the poor girl from the country and being with Richard did give me a lift up into circles it would've taken me years to breach."

  Jackson shrugged. "But you had to have the skills for those people to take you seriously and the knowledge and talent to keep them with you, which you did. I think you need to move on from that doubt and stop thinking you're in a world where you don't belong." He took my hand and we started walking, the conversation changing onto lighter matters until we reach our destination.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jackson

  "Look what the diseased rat's dragged in!" I was greeted as soon as I walked through the doors of the pub I chose to bring Vanessa to for lunch. It's busy, as it would be on a Saturday afternoon. A few tourists sat at the tables, while the bar was surrounded by locals, including Tommy Longden, my childhood friend and someone I didn't envisage introducing Vanessa to while I was still trying to ingrain a good impression. "Although your guest is a damn sight prettier."

  Vanessa smiled. "I'm assuming you actually know each other," she said, looking at me for an introduction.

  "Van, this is Tommy, my old friend from primary school. Tommy, this is Vanessa. Keep your hands off." I glared at him. He was well and truly married to his childhood sweetheart but had always thoroughly enjoyed flirting harmlessly.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vanessa. I was beginning to think that Jacks mig
ht have given women up for good." A tall, willowy woman walked up beside him and slapped his backside. "This is my wife, Addy. Of course, you can see she got the better end of the deal."

  Vanessa laughed, thankfully and I placed a hand on the small of her back, marking my territory. In fact, I had the urge to pick her up and put her over my shoulder, taking her back to the house and spend the rest of the day buried inside her.

  "It's nice to meet you," she said before two slightly mud-covered children ran over to us.

  "Mama, James pushed me over. He was being mean again, and you said if he was being mean he had to spend the rest of the day in his room without his iPad," the girl, who I knew was Jemma, said.

  "You're such a snitch," her brother said. "I barely touched you. You slipped. You're such a girl." At which point Jemma started to cry. Tommy bent down and picked her up. At the same time, James' bottom lip quivered.

  "It's nice to meet you too," Addy said. "These are two of my badly-behaved children, Jemma and James and somewhere I have a four-year-old..." She looked behind her as a crash sounded. "That's likely to be her."

  And then I was bombarded by a mass of red curls and sass. "Uncle Jacks!" I stooped down and picked her up, sticky fingers attacking my beard. "I thought I saw you! Mama, I knocked a glass over and I think I made a man cross."

  "More than likely," Addy said. "You okay with her, Jacks? I'd better sort out her trail of destruction." James followed his mother across the bar and I turned towards Vanessa.

  "This is Emmy," I said, as sticky hands stretched towards Vanessa. "Emmy, this is my friend Vanessa."

  Emmy stretched out a hand to Van. "I like your hair. It's like a princess'."

  Vanessa laughed. "I like yours, it's like it's made of gold and so pretty."

  Emmy wriggled and then clung on, pulling the neck of my t-shirt. "My daddy says it's like my temper. Like fire. And he says I've got a tongue like mummy's that's as sharp as a knife and twice as hurty."