Bad Boy Daddy (22 page)

“How did you know that?” Sam said.

Jackson shrugged. “Damn, kid. I’ve been having those since before you were born. I bet if I ordered one now I’d have it finished before you.”

Jackson ordered a sundae from the waitress.

Sam’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. Jackson swore in front of him. It was the last thing he should have done, but somehow, I felt that it wouldn’t do Sam any harm. He was going through such a hard time at school, seeing how a tough guy like Jackson acted might do him good. It might give him some confidence. Sam was excited. He watched the waitress making Jackson’s sundae. It was like he’d never had anyone else to eat ice cream with in his life.

“Why don’t you join us?” I said to Jackson, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude. You two look like you’re having a nice evening. This isn’t a date, is it?”

Sam scrunched up his face.

“This is my son, Sam,” I said, looking into Jackson’s eyes. There was a tear in his eyes and it made me want to cry too. I looked at Sam before my emotions got the better of me. It was hard to speak without my voice breaking. “Sam, this is my
friend,
Jackson.”

Jackson squeezed into the booth next to Sam and shook his hand. I’ve never seen Sam shake hands with anyone in his life.

“Jackson Jones, at your service.”

“Sam Jones,” Sam said.

I could see the thought going through Sam’s mind. He and Jackson had the same last name.

“Sam was my father’s name,” Jackson said.

“My grandfather’s,” Sam said.

For a terrible moment I was afraid Jackson was going to cry, he looked overcome with emotion, but he held it together. He caught my eye and there was a look in it I’d never seen before.

Was it gratitude?

“So, is this a regular thing for you two?” Jackson said. “An evening ice cream?”

“Sort of,” I said.

“We just saw a movie,” Sam said.

“In the theater?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Kid, I could tell you things about that nickelodeon that would blow your mind. Some of things I’ve gotten up to in the back row.”

“Sam’s eleven,” I said.

Jackson looked up at me while the message sunk in.

“Oh,” he said. “I see. You’re probably too young for that sort of stuff, Sammy. But another couple of years, and you’ll be real interested.”

Sam nodded. I was surprised that Sam wasn’t more shy. He was taking to Jackson like he’d known him his entire life. They seemed like old buddies. If anything, I was the outsider.

The waitress brought Jackson’s sundae and he took a big bite.

“Good, isn’t it?” he said to Sam.

“The best.”

“You in school?”

“Yes, sir.”

I almost laughed. Sam never called anyone sir. What had made him start with Jackson?

“Call me Jackson,” Jackson said.

“Yes, sir.”

Jackson laughed.

“You like sports?”

“Not too much.”

Jackson nodded.

“But you like movies?”

“Yes,” Sam said, stopping himself at the last second from adding sir.

“Me too,” Jackson said. “Me too.”

Jackson was silent for a few moments. I didn’t know what he was thinking but I tried to imagine what it must have been like for him, after twelve long years, to finally be sitting down next to his son, having a conversation, eating ice cream. I looked into his eyes and he looked back at me. There was a glow in his eyes like fire. It was as if they were made of molten lava. They were burning with passion for me. They were burning with love. I could physically feel it.

I shivered under his gaze. I remembered what he’d done to me in the back of the truck. I remembered the things he’d said to me when I first met him. He’d wanted a child. He’d made no attempt to hide that. He told me he’d put a baby in my womb, and he had. He’d told me he’d get rid of anyone who was a threat to me and the baby, and he’d done that too. A shiver ran down my spine as I flashed back to the orgasm he’d had inside me, less than twenty-four hours earlier.

Jackson was talking to Sam in a way no man had ever talked to him, other than possibly Grant, Forrester and Grady. Jackson was genuinely interested in everything Sam said. He wasn’t just making conversation to impress me. He wasn’t trying to pick up Sam’s mom. He was just talking to the kid like he was a real person, someone worth talking to.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sam said one of those things I completely didn’t expect.

“I have no dad,” he said.

My eyes widened. I didn’t know what possessed him to bring that up. I looked to Jackson but he didn’t miss a beat.

“I hear that, kid,” he said. “I don’t have a daddy either. Not anymore.”

“Your dad died?” Sam said.

“Yes, sir. Not to speak ill of the dead, but he probably deserved it. You know the ravine bridge when you’re coming up from the city? The one that seems like the perfect place to do some bungee jumping.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with recognition. “I know that bridge.”

“My daddy crashed right over the edge of that thing. The explosion could be seen from the valley dam.”

“No way.”

“Yup. So if you want some advice from me, be very careful when you’re driving a car. It’s the single most dangerous thing you’ll ever do in your life. Even if you smoke. Even if you join the army. It’ll be your car that kills you if you’re not careful.”

“Good advice,” I said.

“Especially don’t drink and drive. Next time you’re drinking, call your mom, or call me. Don’t get behind the wheel.”

Sam laughed. I looked at Jackson but he was kidding. He laughed too. “I’m messing with you, kid. I’m messing with him,” he said, looking at me. “I know he’s too young to drink.”

“And too young to drive,” I said.

“Not for long though, right buddy?” Jackson said.

Sam nodded. He’d been too busy listening to Jackson to eat his ice cream. Jackson’s was all gone.

“Voila!” Jackson said. “Told you I’d finish first.”

“Oh man,” Sam said, slapping his forehead.

“See, man. I distracted you. Asking you all those questions. You’ve got to be on the lookout for that shit. You can’t be letting people pull the wool over your eyes.”

“I know,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Damn.”

“Sam Jones,” I said. “We don’t use words like that.”

“He did,” Sam said, indicating Jackson.

Jackson shrugged. “Old habits die hard,” he said.

Sam laughed, as if that somehow justified him.

To me, the whole thing was amazing. Sam was actually listening to every word Jackson said. If he’d had a pen and paper, he’d have taken notes. I could tell my little boy had been starved for this kind of attention his entire life. Jackson wasn’t just a man, he was a man’s man. There’s a difference. And that difference seemed to mean the entire world to my little boy.

I was enjoying sitting there but it was past nine and Sam had to get to bed. I wasn’t sure what Jackson had in mind. Had he really just been stopping by for an ice cream, or had he been stalking me? To be honest, I hoped he’d been stalking me.

Chapter 40

Jackson

H
OW CAN I DESCRIBE THE
feeling of meeting my son for the first time? It’s impossible. It’s like asking someone to describe the first time they saw the sunrise, or the first time they felt love so deeply it hurt.

I looked across the table at Faith. Jesus, my heart was burning for her. She was out of this world. To say I craved her would be a tragic understatement. I longed to feel her body against mine, the warmth of her breasts, the sweet wetness of her pussy.

I almost felt guilty. I was sitting next to my son for the first time in my life, and my mind was obsessed with filling his mommy with my semen.

“Faith,” I said.

“Yes.”

“I had a really nice time last night.”

She looked at me and then away. She was still shy after all we’d been through. It was the most adorable thing in the world. I wanted to see her again. I was dying for her.

“Me too,” she said.

I put twenty bucks on the table for the ice creams and Faith’s coffee.

“You don’t have to pay,” she said.

“Of course I do.”

“Well,” she said, straightening her dress. “It’s been really nice bumping into you. I’m sure Sam had a nice time chatting.”

Sam nodded. What a great kid. He was a gift, a gift Faith had given me. I’d never be able to thank her for it. But I could try.

Right there and then, I decided that there were a million things I could do to repay both of them. I owed them. I’d been gone for so long. I’d missed so much. But it wasn’t too late to make it up. I could dedicate my life to repaying Faith for the gift she’d given me—the most beautiful son in the world. I’d live my life for her. I’d spent years securing her safety, now I would secure her happiness, her joy, her ecstasy.

“I had a nice time too,” I said.

“I’d better get him home. It’s passed his bedtime.”

I looked at my watch. “Shit. It’s past mine too.”

Sam laughed.

I watched her take Sam’s hand and walk to the door. I didn’t want her to leave.

What could I do to get more time with her?

“Faith,” I said when she reached the door.

She stopped and turned back. God damn, she was hot. She had on a cashmere sweater, a light cotton dress, her hair was tied back. If I could have got up and grabbed her, I would have. I’d have lifted her onto the ice cream counter and taken her right then and there.

“I’ve got more wines to show you. We should get together some time so that you can try them.”

“I’d like that,” she said.

“I mean, strictly for professional purposes,” I said with a wink.

She smiled knowingly. “Strictly for professional purposes,” she agreed.

I looked her over from head to toe. Every bit of her was perfect. It was like she’d been sculpted by God’s own hand, just to torture me. I couldn’t help it. My body hungered for her like a raging need. I needed her. I
had
to have her.

She came back over to me.

“Why don’t you come over in an hour,” she said. “And bring some wine.”

I nodded. I’d take that offer. It was an offer to the most delicious pleasure in the world—Faith’s body.

She went back to the door.

“Bye, Sam,” I said.

“Bye, Jackson,” he said.

I watched them leave. When they were gone I looked down at my hand. It was trembling.

My son. I’d met my son.

Chapter 41

Jackson

W
HEN I PULLED UP OUTSIDE
Faith’s house an hour later, I had a strange feeling. It was like déjà vu. Something about the situation felt familiar, as if it was something I’d done before, in a prior life. It was almost as if it was destiny. It just felt right, like it was meant to happen.

Her house was beautiful. However she’d done it, Faith was doing well for herself. I had such respect for the life she’d created in my absence. It was a modern house with beautiful stonework and large windows overlooking the mountainside. You could see down into the vineyard of the valley, and toward the west you could even see the ocean. The mist in the morning must have been stunning.

I grabbed the case of wine bottles from the back of the truck and went to the door.

“Come on in,” Faith called.

I opened the door and stepped inside. The house was nice—high ceilings, panoramic vistas, high quality fixtures. There was a gas fire on, despite the fact that it was eighty degrees outside. I took it as a good sign.

Faith was nowhere to be seen.

I walked across a beautiful white rug to the window and looked down into the valley. I could have seen my own vineyard if the sun was up.

From behind me I heard Faith’s sultry voice. “I just put Sam down.”

“We’ll keep the noise down,” I said, turning.

When I turned—boy. That’s all I can say. She looked like something out a dream, or a fantasy. How the hell had I gotten myself into that house with her? It felt too good to be true. She’d let her hair down and it flowed over her shoulders like a river over a waterfall. She’d touched up her make up. Her eyes were definitely smokier than they’d been earlier. The dress she was wearing was like a thin piece of lace, draped over her body perfectly.

She had such style, such fashion. She blew me away. I felt underdressed as I stood there looking at her.

“You just going to stand there?” she said.

“Sorry.” I was falling over my words. “I just, Faith, you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said, not quite as shy as she’d been before.

“Really lovely,” I repeated.

She smiled. “You said that already.”

“You’ve got me lost for words.”

She pointed at the couch. “Have a seat,” she said. “I see you brought the wine.”

“There’s some white,” I said, taking a seat. “We should put that in the fridge.”

She went into the kitchen with the crate of wine and came back with a bottle and two glasses. My cock was vibrating in my pants. It was so hungry for her I didn’t know if I’d be able to restrain myself. All I wanted was to jump on her.

She sat down on the other end of the couch, about four feet of empty space between us.

All I could do was look at her.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I really don’t think I can drink any wine right now.”

“How come?”

“How come? Are you kidding me?” I said, indicating her. “Look at you. You’re like a vision from a dream.”

She giggled. She had such a girlish laugh. It was strange. When I looked at her, I didn’t see a mother, I saw a little girl, and I was desperate to fuck her. I was bigger than her. I was physically stronger. To me she was a child, waiting to be taken.

I moved across the couch closer to her.

“Jackson Jones,” she said teasingly. “Are you trying to take advantage of me in my own home?”

I smiled. “I do believe I am.”

“Luring me into this with your delicious wine,” she said.

“I can think of something much more delicious.”

“What’s that?”

I looked at her lips. They were like fruit. I’d picked my fair share of grapes. Her lips were like the color your fingers get when they’re covered in crushed grape juice. She was nature’s gift, the fruit of the world. She wasn’t just a woman, she was my fate, my destiny, and it was time for me to devour her.