He didn’t just get me to safety, he went beyond that, and spent years making sure that the men who I was messed up with would never be able to hurt me again. They’d never be able to hurt my son. My life wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for the sacrifice Jackson had made. It had taken twelve years, but it had to be done. And not once did Jackson consider giving up on me.
Of course, Jackson didn’t do it for free. He’d been honest with me right from the start. ‘A life for a life,’ he said. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but Jackson did. Jackson knew exactly what it meant. He didn’t just want to have sex with me, he wanted me to have his baby. He wanted everything I had to offer, right to the core of my being, and he intended to collect.
He possessed me in a way I didn’t even know a man could possess a woman. I was like putty in his hands. He saw me, he knew what he wanted, and I gave it to him without an ounce of resistance. That’s real power.
Right from the beginning, he knew what he wanted, and he went after it with a singleminded devotion that I’d never even known was possible. So many times, he could have given up. He could have gone for another woman. But that wasn’t in his nature. He chose me, and he moved heaven and earth to have me.
I loved him for that.
And now that he was back, he treated me like a queen. I’d never have guessed a guy like him could be so kind, and compassionate, and caring. It was like he read my mind. He knew what I wanted or needed before I did. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He’d always exceeded my expectations in every single way. Now he was living with me, buying me gifts, cooking me fancy meals, helping me with my business, and with parenting Sam.
He’d even built us a house. Or renovated it beyond recognition. It was a hacienda, a palace. It was more than I ever dreamed I deserved.
And tonight was the night I’d be sleeping in it for the first time. We’d come such a long way. From a motel room on a dusty highway outside of Reno, to our own beautiful villa surrounded by Jackson’s father’s vineyard.
I trembled when I thought of the sexual things Jackson would do to me in our new bedroom. It was our wedding night after all. Jackson was insatiable, and he was growing more passionate with every night we spent together.
And if he treated me like a queen, he treated Sam like a treasure.
Back at that motel twelve years ago, I’d asked Jackson if he was a good man.
He told me he wasn’t. He said he was bad to the bone. He said I’d regret ever meeting him.
At the time, I believed him. For years I believed him. He looked bad. He was scarred, tattooed, he rode a motorcycle and carried a gun. He fucked me, made me pregnant, and then disappeared. I thought he’d abandoned me. I thought he’d died. I thought I’d never set eyes on him again.
But I was wrong. The fact of the matter was that Jackson was the very best man I possibly could have run into in that moment of desperation, and he was the only man who could do the things that needed to be done. He showed me what it meant to be a man, and also what it meant to be a woman who was loved and cherished.
He was my protector, my lover, and the daddy to my child.
And he had my heart.
He’d always had my heart. Even that first night, when I was offering him sex in exchange for protection. Even when he’d run into me at the Los Lobos bar in Reno and I’d been a bitch to him. Yes, even then, he’d grabbed my heart like it was a lifesaver and he was lost at sea. He’d held my heart so tight it never escaped. It never wanted to.
My heart belonged to him.
Our wedding was in the orchard behind the house he’d prepared for me and Sam, and yes, it was the happiest day of my life.
I was so proud of Sam for helping with the house. Sam had been starving for a father, and now that Jackson was back in his life, everything finally seemed to be making sense. He had friends. He was doing well at school. He was happy and confident.
All our friends were at the wedding, of course. Lacey, Grant, Forrester and Grady were our wedding party. Sam was the ring bearer.
The priest was an old Spanish man who’d known Jackson’s father. He’d been the priest at Jackson’s parent’s wedding.
When he asked Jackson if he took me to be his wife, I thought my heart would burst.
“I do,” Jackson said, tears falling down his cheeks. I knew he had so much love for me that our marriage would last forever. He’d killed for me. Not a lot of people can say that. Jackson looked at me the way I looked at Sam. Bullets wouldn’t stop that love.
Then the priest turned to me, and asked if I would take Jackson to be my husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. I knew the answer better than I knew my own name.
“I do,” I said.
The priest smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”
Jackson grabbed me, and there was exactly the same passion in his arms as there had been the very first time he grabbed me at the motel. He kissed me like his life depended on it. I knew he’d kiss me that way till our dying day. He’d love me and Sam forever. And we’d love him forever.
Wife Me Bad Boy
Chance Carter
Copyright ? 2015 Chance Carter
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