It Started With A Concussion ??

Walking into his house it was quiet. Besides the patter of my feet and a laugh here and there, the silence was loud. Nobody was home but the two of us, and it took us a good five minutes to get to his room after our makeout sesh in the kitchen.

I shrugged the towel off my shoulders as Jackson shut the door to his room. His hands slid around my waist and the immediate contact with my bare stomach set me on fire. I felt his breath on the top of my shoulder before a kiss was planted in the crook of my neck.

I smile to myself and turn around in his gentle embrace that tightens the moment my lips lock with his. My hand travels around the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

Jackson takes a step forward and I know I'm not too far from the bed that's behind me. Tugging the hairs on the back of his neck, I pull his head away from mine. "Not yet." I whisper.

He hums in a questionable tone before looking at me. "Why?"

"Because you're dirty." I respond.

"I'm dirty?" He repeats in a confused tone.

"Mhmm," I nod and put some distance between us. "You still have Nicole all over you." I move my hand in the air, referring to his entire body.

Jackson swoops a hand through his hair and laughs. "You didn't seem to mind that I had Nicole all over me when we were out there." His head nods in the direction of his window.

Which coincidentally looks out to the backyard.

"Shower." I tell him with a straight face and a blank, yet demanding tone.

His eyes travel up and down my body. "You can't be serious."

"Does it look like I'm joking?" I question him and cross my arms. "You have five seconds or I'm leaving." I warn.

He laughs. "You know you're not-"

"One." I cut in and stopped him mid sentence. Jackson lips are left parted as silence grows between us. "Shower. Now." I nod in the direction of his bathroom.

"Em-"

"We're at three Jackson." I announce and turn around.

The next thing that fills the room is his groan and the slam of the bathroom door. A few seconds later I hear the shower turn on and I laugh to myself.

Was that a little petty? Yes. Do I care? No.

I wander around and stop in front of his mirror. Picking at my now damp bathing suit, I shimmy it off completely and scurry to his closet. I run my finger over a pile of his shirts before choosing a random one from the top.

I throw it over my head and it falls down my body like a dress. A very oversized, flowy dress. I smooth it out and I think I spend too much time admiring myself because I don't even hear the shower turn off.

That was quick, I think, but I don't realize how much of a rush he's really in until I'm spun around and smothered in a deep kiss that makes me lose my balance.

My hands run over his bare pecs, then his collarbones, and finally drape over his shoulders. "Eager aren't you?" I lean back with a smirk.

"And what about you?" he asks and presses himself closer to me. "No bra?" His fingers curl under the hem of the shirt, and I shiver when I feel his hand brush against my hip bone "Or underwear."

Jackson's eyes lock back to mine and I smile. "It's redundant." I shrug and walk him to the edge of the bed.

He lays down and pulls me on top of him. I applaud myself for making him shower. One, his hair is wet. Two, he smells good-tastes good too. And three, he's only dressed in flannel pajama pants, which aren't doing much to hide what's underneath.