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Chapter 19

  • Crystal's POV Was outing Jackson's identity to an FBI Agent a good idea? In my current predicament of being blackmailed by him? No. No, it wasn't. Did it make me feel better? Hell yeah. Was it one of my finer moments? Considering the glare Jackson had sent my way had escalated from "I'll kill you if you say it but not really" to "You're for sure getting strapped to the anchor without a doubt" I decided to go with no. Was it worth it? At the time, yes. Would I turn back time and do anything differently? Yes. I would. I'd have gotten it on camera. Could I have possibly predicted what would happen after? Not in a million years. Did it go in my favor? No. Did Jackson Storm once again win? Unfortunately yes. On a scale of one to ten, just how bad was this idea? At the time. A zero. Now, however . . . like one hundred. Really though, how was I supposed to know that Jackson Storm could actually fight? More importantly, what kind of person locks another person in a supply room? Jackson Storm. Aka, the scum of the earth. I pounded my fist against the door of the room and called him every name I could think of. "Storm!" I shouted as I continued to pound on the door. "Let me out of here!" There was no response. Shocking. "You better not have thrown Agent North overboard! And what did you do with Julie?" Still no response. "This is kidnapping!" I shouted. "STORM!" The door suddenly opened and I practically fell into the hallway, my head hitting the wall. I groaned as I rubbed my fingers against my head and began cursing Jackson out once more. I whirled toward him with every intention of breaking his nose, except it wasn't Jackson standing there. It was Noah. Eyes wide. A mix between fright and concern on his face and arms up in a defensive position as if waiting for me to strike him. I blew out a long angry breath before looking back at him. "Where is he?" I ground out between my teeth. Noah pointed up to the deck above our heads. I steadied myself on my feet and pushed past him and down the hallway toward the stairwell. "But I'm just supposed to be taking you to your room!" Noah shouted from behind me. "Wait!" I ignored him and ran up the stairwell and out the doors onto the deck. Except, no one was there. Of course, since the yacht was now nowhere near shore and still moving, I could guess where he was. I began walking around the deck, toward the front of the yacht. "Wait!" I heard Noah's panicked shout but it did not deter me. I threw open the door and saw and Jackson at the helm, standing in front of all the gauges and controls. He barely glanced at me. "Noah was supposed to take you to your room." I didn't say anything to him. Instead, I just walked right up to him and decked him. Noah, who had followed me into the room immediately took a few steps backward until he was out of the room and shut the door behind him. Jackson stumbled back from the controls and rubbed at his jaw. "And which grievance was that for?" He asked me, calmly. Which only served to piss me off even more. "Pick one," I growled before taking another swing at him. He took a step back and sideways, dodging my punch. "Where is Agent North and Julie?" "Agent North is having a lovely nap in one of the downstairs bedrooms." "And Julie?" I questioned. "She was given the option of walking the plank or playing nice and staying in her bedroom for the remainder of the evening. Unlike you, she chose to be a gracious guest." My angry flared up even more. "Guest? You're keeping me here as your prisoner. I'm nothing more than a trophy to you." Jackson rolled his eyes and waved me away dismissively. "Don't be so dramatic." He was watching me out of the corner of his eye. He thought I couldn't tell, but I could. So, I threw the punch that he was already expecting. He moved to dodge it, except he ran right into my knee that I'd brought up, ramming him in the stomach. He dropped to the floor doubled over and I kicked him in the stomach. He groaned as he rolled onto his back, cursed at me, and then before I could make another move, he swiped my feet out from under me with his leg. All the air in my lungs rushed out of me and I laid on the floor trying to remember how to breathe after landing on my back and getting the air knocked out of me. The fact that my head was also pounding after hitting the floor was not helping. Jackson was suddenly straddling me, leaning over so his face was barely a foot from mine. "This would be so much better if our positions were switched," He said as he smirked at me. I felt my breath catch in my throat, only this time I was for a different reason. I was suddenly all too aware of him. All too aware of our position and just how close he was to me. And all too familiar with exactly how his body moved and what it looked like without clothes. And then I suddenly became aware of the fact that his face was in perfect striking distance. So, I seized the opportunity. He cursed and rolled off me, hand clutching at his now split lip. I rolled away and pushed to my feet, glaring at him the whole time. He'd gotten to his feet as well, leaning back against the controls to the yacht. He wiped off the blood on his lip and let out an audible sigh. Like his split lip was nothing more than an inconvenience. "I realize I likely can't best you in a fight," He started. "I'm willing to let you try," I interjected. "At least," He continued. "Not unless I seriously injured you." "That sounds like an excuse," I taunted him. I was still pissed and feeling mean, after all. "What, afraid to hit a girl?" He shook his head. "No," He replied. "Though it would be a shame to mess up that pretty face of yours." I continued to glare at him. "However," He added. "you have forgotten one crucial detail." "And what's that?" "This is my yacht," He said. "So?" I questioned. He reached a hand over to the controls and the yacht suddenly made a sharp turn. He put his leg up against the wall to keep himself steady, but I wasn't expecting it and lost my balance, falling to the floor and sliding into the wall before he straightened out the yacht again. He leaned down so he was in my face once again. "In here," He said. "you won't win." "Bastard," I grumbled as I pushed myself back to my feet. "Are you quite finished with your tantrum now?" He asked me as he turned back to the controls. "Your friend is safe. Your FBI handler is also safe albeit slightly drugged and you're cruising around on a yacht. I have also courteously decided to forgive your lapse in judgment when you revealed my identity to Agent North." "You just kidnapped a federal government agent." Jackson scoffed at me. "I'm merely borrowing him." "That's kidnapping." He shrugged. "It'll never go to court. Mostly because he'll never press charges. Just think of how much flak he'd get if his FBI buddies found out he was "kidnapped", held on a luxury yacht, and taken to exotic places all meals paid for." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Oh, the horror." "It's still kidnapping and you're doing the same to me and Julie." "Julie was given an option," He informed me. "As were you. Therefore, the only kidnapping I'm doing is of Agent North." I groaned and put my head in my hands. "On threat of death, I was forced to join you. I still count that as kidnapping." "Then allow me to repeat my previous statement," He said. "Oh, the horror. Kidnapped on a yacht, all meals paid for, plenty of liquor to drown your sorrows, free-range of said yacht, and a sexy, charming-not to mention rich-man at your service." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "This is turning into one of those horrible romance books about the millionaire kidnapping a girl." "I quite like those books," Jackson said. "Especially the part where they end up in the bedroom." He winked at me. "Although, I do believe the books are usually about billionaires. Not millionaires." "You just do not quit, do you?" "One of my finer qualities." "That's not what I'd call it." He just laughed. "I'll win you over to my side, Babe." I shook my head. "No, you won't. I was foolish enough to trust you the first time, it won't happen again." "Trust?" He questioned with a smile. "Who said anything about trust? There's no trust involved in removing each other's clothes." I groaned and rubbed at my forehead. There was no dealing with this man. No way we'd ever have a normal conversation. "Come on," He said as he walked back over to me. "Learn to let loose. Repeat a few mistakes." He leaned into me, his breath fanning over my face. "You know you want to." "And yet, my urge to make you a eunuch is much stronger than any other urge I may or may not have to bed you." He laughed, a wicked smile forming on his face. "We'll see about that, Babe," He said as he tapped my nose and turned away from me. I let out a breath I'd been holding and my knees felt weak. I hated him. That much I knew already. I hated his cocky arrogance. His charm. His stupidly smug smile. The way he looked when he was ready for a challenge. I hated just how good he looked in well, anything . . . or nothing. But most of all I decided I hated how he knew how good he looked. I hated that he knew just what kind of effect he had on me. And he used it to his advantage far too often. Smug, arrogant, conniving bastard. "Careful," He suddenly spoke up. "I might get offended." I stared at him. "I didn't say anything." He shrugged. "Not aloud." Add manipulative mind reader to the list. I studied him with narrowed eyes. His focus was on the water ahead of us, occasionally going down to the controls in front of him. His lip was split and there was a bruise forming on his jaw. His hair was disheveled, but somehow his suit was completely immaculate. It made no sense to me. It also made absolutely no sense how he seemed to look even hotter with the split lip and bruise. No one should look good like that and yet . . . leave it to Jackson Storm to make it a fashion statement. He turned back toward me with a smug smile on his face. "That line of thinking will get you in trouble." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Again, I didn't say anything." "You didn't have to," He replied with a wink. "All you have to do is ask, Babe. I won't even make you beg." "You're disgusting," I said before I whirled around and walked out of the room. I didn't make it all that far. I felt his presence behind me and turned around, only to end up backed into the railing behind me, his hands going to either side, trapping me in place. He leaned into me. "Why fight me on this?" He asked me, his jaw against my cheek, his lips brushing against my ear. And if he hadn't been pressed against me holding me up, I'd have been like putty on the ground. Damn him. Why couldn't he have just been revolting to look at? Horribly disfigured perhaps? Or maybe just give him the squeaky voice of a child after breathing in helium? Would that have been too much to ask? "You're making it very easy to make good on my eunuch threat," I said. It was supposed to come out threatening and firm. Instead, it came out like a breathless whisper and I could feel his smile against my skin. He was also radiating smugness. I hadn't realized that was even possible until now. "So what's stopping you?" He questioned. My hands fisted into the silky fabric of his shirt of their own accord and I mentally cursed him out and then myself. "Come on, I know you want this." "I want to keep my sanity more though." "Sanity is overrated." "That one statement explains so much about you." His lips were suddenly barely brushing against mine and I felt my breath catch and my hands tighten in his shirt. In my mind, I just kept repeating every different way in which I'd like to murder him . . . though it wasn't working very well because right then I was thinking that there was something else I'd like to do more. "Just say the word," He whispered. For a moment I almost debated leaning in the rest of the way. Just for a moment. I knew where it would lead and I knew that in the moment it would be worth it. But then, in remembering how it would be, I also remembered how it ended. What he did and it was like the fog surrounding my mind suddenly lifted. My whole body tensed up and the hands I had fisted in his shirt opened. He seemed to sense the change in me too because before I could push him away, he stepped away himself. "Have a goodnight, Babe," He said with a smile before turning and walking back into the room and to the controls. He didn't mention the sudden change in my reaction. Didn't acknowledge what almost happened. Just walked away. Leaving me to deal with all the thoughts running through my head and emotions coursing through my body. After standing there for what felt like forever, I finally just cursed him out and made my way back below deck.
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