JACKS

I wake up to the soft buzz of a phone vibrating. I don't know whose phone or where mine even is. Light is peeking through the hotel shades and the clock beside the bed reads 11:04 am. Skye is curled up on my chest, her wavy blond hair in a tangled mess. I feel a smile tug at my lips.

As usual, Jackson Ford is a lucky bastard.

Dré loves to joke that I must've made a deal with the devil, because I always seem to get what I want, despite the odds. Things tend to work out for me. But right now, I'm beginning to question if I have made some kind of deal. Skye is clever and witty, she shares my love of music, she's a gifted photographer, and now I know she's a downright goddess in bed.

Whatever I owe the devil for this one, it's worth it.

"Jacks," she moans softly, stretching her arms above her head.

My cock stirs in response.

"Yeah, beautiful?" I ask, stroking her hair.

"What time is it?"

"Just after 11."

"Thanks," she says with a yawn. "I have no idea what I did with my phone."

"I've lost mine too. I heard it buzzing around somewhere, but I have no idea where it ended up. Same goes for my pants."

"Yeah we kind of flung our clothes everywhere last night, didn't we?" She giggles and props herself up to face me. She's breathtaking—her hair falling just slightly in front of her face, eyes sparkling with just a little eyeliner smudged along them, her lips plump and rosy, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Her naked breasts are just barely covered by her arm. Everything about her is pure sex and I want to touch and taste every inch.

"Ye- uh... yeah."

What was the question again?

"Speaking of which, I could use something to wear. I'm a bit cold."

I sit up and look around, spotting her top from last night hanging on a chair. I can tell by the way it hangs that it's still wet. I walk over to my bag and look at my options—two t-shirts and a short-sleeved white button-up. The button-up is semi-sheer, so I should probably go with a t-shirt.

"Here," I say, tossing her the button-up.

I couldn't help myself.

She slips it on, buttoning a single button in the middle. The visual is enough to send my mind spinning. I grab a pair of boxers for myself and slip them on, so I'm not just walking around naked with a raging hard-on all morning.

I see Skye's phone on the floor next to leggings and pick it up.

"Here's yours," I say, setting it on the bed by her feet.

"Thanks." She sets it down on the nightstand and sits perched on her knees, smiling deviously at me. She bends forward and starts crawling toward where I stand at the foot of the bed. Her breasts peek out through the thin, gossamer fabric of my shirt.

I swear I just felt all the blood rush from my brain to my dick.

"You're staring," she says in a low voice. She smiles slightly and rakes her eyes down my body.

"I buh- I... am staring?"

"You seem a little distracted." She shoots me a teasing smirk and runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

"Nope," I say. "I am a lot distracted."

"Can I distract you some more?" She runs her hands along my abs and down the ridges of my hips.

"Yes." The word came out of my mouth in an instant.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

She hooks her fingers into either side of my boxers and pulls them down until they fall to my ankles. Before I can even process it, her tongue is running the length of my shaft.

"Oh goh-hhodd fuuuck," I groan, my knees shaking as my eyes roll back into my head.

She wraps her hand around me with a firm grip and pulls me into her mouth. She hums and the vibrations course through me. As she moves, my shirt rises up against her back and reveals her ass held up in the air, bobbing along with her movements.

"Fuck, Skye, if you don't slow down I'm gonna come."

She looks up at me through her eyelashes but doesn't change her pace.

Holy hell that's hot.

The tension builds in me until it's unbearable and I feel my release pulse through me. I shudder, leaning against the bed to hold myself up.

I'm shocked out of my stupor by an unexpected sound coming from behind me.

"Oh shit!!"

I look over my shoulder and see Dré covering his eyes with his hand as he frantically backs out of the room. He stumbles over himself, hitting the wall behind him with a heavy thump.

I look back to Skye, who starts laughing hysterically. Another loud clang rings out behind us.

"Shit! Sorry!" he yells from the other room. I shake my head and slip on my boxer briefs.

"One sec, Buttercup," I say. I grab a T-shirt and throw it on before following him into the other room.

He's adjusting a frame on the wall, one I assume he ran into.

"Good morning, Dré."

"Yeah, I saw that," he says, avoiding eye contact. "I'm so sorry, man. I'm leaving. I just assumed you would be in bed. I mean... not in bed like that. Aagghh."

He pinches his eyes shut.

"This is why you don't barge in unannounced," I tease.

"First off, I always 'barge in unannounced'. It's never been an issue before. I didn't expect to walk into your bare ass while you're getting a-... whatever. Secondly, I came because you weren't answering your phone. I wanted you to know that we got TMZ to pull all the identifying information. I didn't realize you were still at it."

"Wait... what? What are we talking about?"

"The photos? The article?" He rubs his forehead. "Have you seriously not gotten any of my messages this morning?"

"Oh my god, Jacks!" Skye shouts from the bedroom. I head back to her and see her sitting in the middle of the bed looking at her phone, covering her mouth with her hand. She turns the phone to show me a photo on the screen—it's a long-range, paparazzi shot of a couple going at it against a brick wall.

Scratch that—that's me and Skye going at it against the wall.

"Ah shit," I say, taking the phone from her hand. I scroll to the see the rest of the article.

Forbidden Romance: Jackson Ford Gets Physical with Engaged Woman

I scan it quickly and see that they've got tons of details: where and how we met, that she's a photographer from LA.

How did they get all this so quickly? It's as if they had the whole article ready to go and were just waiting on a photo.

"Shit," I curse. "It's okay, I'll handle it."

I grab some sweatpants for her, then walk back out to talk to Dré.

"So you said you had them pull her details?" I ask. "What details did they have?"

"They said that she was the photographer who did your photoshoot, the PR firm's lawyers said she's a private citizen and they couldn't publish identifiable information about her. We got it pulled pretty early, but there's a lot of chatter online. Some eagle-eyed fans have figured out who she is from the photo."

"Well, I guess people know now," Skye says, standing in the doorway.

"Hey... Skye," Dré says, his eyes darting around the room and turning back to me. "So uh, do you want to put out a statement?"

"No, we stick to the usual. We don't respond to rumors. If we start now, they're gonna think Skye is special and start asking questions."

The last thing I want is to force her into the spotlight any more than she already will be.

Skye's shoulders fall slightly and she looks at the floor.

"Okay, stick to the usual. Got it," Dré says. "I'm gonna leave you two to uh... your morning."

He makes his way out and the door shuts behind him.

"Ollie has sent me 22 text messages," Skye says, looking at her phone. "Oh, nope, make that 23."

She turns the screen to me, showing me the notification. As she does, a call lights up the screen instead.

It's Greg.

She looks at the screen herself and sighs.

"Oh great," she says, sitting down on the couch. I sit next to her and rub her back.

"You don't have to answer it."

"I know, but I might as well get it over with."

She hits the button and brings the phone to her ear.

"Hi," she says.

"What the hell, Skye," he says. The volume is loud enough that I can hear him, but I don't know if Skye realizes that.

"Greg, I-"

"There are photos of you and Jackson plastered all over the internet."

She takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes.

"I'm sorry if that hurt you."

There's silence for a moment. I can't tell if he stopped speaking or if I just can't hear him.

"No, I swear," she says. "It wasn't like that, we didn-"

"Are you serious? How can I believe you?" My muscles tense as I hear him shout through the phone. "You told me you didn't have feelings for him! You told me it was just about your career!"

The words feel like a punch to the gut.

She told him she didn't have feelings for me?

"I'm not doing this," she says. "I'm sorry this is affecting you, but I don't owe you an explanation."

I hear him begin to yell as she ends the call.

"Well that was fun," she says.

It was just about your career...

I try to put the idea out of my mind.

Skye wouldn't use me. She wouldn't do that.

My thoughts start to spiral. I can hear my dad's voice in my head.

"Everyone has an angle, Jackson."

"People don't want the real you—they want the Jackson Ford from the music videos. That's who they're paying to see."

"There's no one in this industry who doesn't want something from you."

No. Not Skye. She has always been honest with me. I was the one who approached her. I was the one who offered her the job.

"Are you okay?" she asks, breaking me from my anxious thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry. I just... I didn't expect to be dealing with this."

"Well, everyone knows now. So we don't have to sneak around." She laughs awkwardly and gives me a soft smile.

She has no idea what she's getting into. The press is going to harass her. It's going to be a nightmare.

"I just... I wasn't ready. Everything happened so fast. And now it's all damage control."

"Damage?" she asks.

I worry that she's not ready for what's about to unfold. She doesn't live with the attention I do. All the progress we've made could be totally lost. She could decide that I'm not worth it.

"It'll be okay," I say.

"Is it really that big of a problem? I mean, so they know; we can deal with it, right?"

"Yeah."

Sure, I can deal with it. But will you be able to?

"The media knew about your past relationships. Why am I different? Because I'm not a model or actress?"

"Yes, Skye, you're different. You're just a normal person."

Her eyes are glossy and her lips form a tight line.

Shit.

I know I've said the wrong thing, but I'm not sure exactly where I've gone wrong.

"Wow, okay. You don't want to be seen with a normal boring person, huh? Got it."

"No, no," I say with a sigh. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that you don't know how to handle press like this."

"Maybe I can. How will you know if you won't give me a chance?"

Maybe she's right. She's handling this better than I expected.

A deep, uncomfortable idea starts gnawing at me from deep inside my chest.

Did she expect this to happen? Did she want to get caught by the paparazzi?

No. She's not Angel. She's nothing like her.

Skye is perfect.

She's too perfect. She's everything I've ever wanted. What if that's not a coincidence? Is she playing me?

I cringe and run my hands through my hair, trying to fight back the paranoia. But I feel it scratching at my throat, pushing forward before I can bury it.

"Did you call the paparazzi?"

She looks at me slack-jawed, blinking in shock.

"Are you serious? No, I didn't call the paparazzi. Why would I do that?"

"Because you wanted the publicity?"

The words burn as I say them. I know I'm wrong, but I can't help it.

"Wow. I- How do I even respond to that? I don't need publicity, Jacks. I was doing just fine with my business before you showed up, okay? I can't believe you would even think that!"

"Then how did they know?" I don't recognize my own voice as I say it. "They know how we met, they knew who you were, they knew everything. Those kinds of details don't just pop up. They came here for a photo, like they knew what they were looking for. And you just happen to kiss me outside where anyone could see."

She stands up with a serious look on her face and walks into the other room. After a moment, she returns with her clothes and phone in her hand.

"I have no idea how they got their information. No idea. But after all the times I've trusted you and all of a sudden you're accusing me of this without giving me the benefit of the doubt? And god forbid I kiss you in public where people could see! I'm going to my room. You can go ahead and deal with the damage."

She storms out, slamming the door as I call her name.

Fuck.

I drop my head into my hands.

What did I just do?

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