Jackson opened the car door for Olivia, his mind lingering on the brunette's enigmatic smile. As Olivia slid into the passenger seat, he shook off the thought and focused on the present. "So, where to now?" she asked, her eyes sparkling excitedly. Before he could respond, Quantum Quill's voice chimed in his head. "Well done, Romeo. The task was completed successfully. Your reward will be credited shortly. How about you take your lovely date to the Royal Angel Pub?" He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden instruction. He cleared his throat and turned to Olivia. "How about we go for a drink?" "A drink? I thought dinner was the end of our date. But... I'm game if you are." She paused, then added with a sheepish grin, "Though I should probably mention I don't drink alcohol. Non-alcoholic options for me, if that's okay?" "Absolutely," he nodded. "I know just the place." As he started the car, QQ piped up again. "Smooth move, tiger. The Royal Angel it is. Try not to drool over any
Quantum Quill said, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Well, well, well. Isn't this a delightful little twist? Come on, Jackson, where's your sense of adventure? Go introduce yourself!" Jackson gritted his teeth. "Not now, QQ," he hissed. "Sorry, what?" Olivia leaned in, confused. "Uh, nothing," he stammered. "Just... talking to myself. Bad habit." She giggled. "Careful, people might think you're crazy." "You have no idea," he mumbled. Olivia tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Oh? Do tell." Before Jackson could fumble for an explanation, QQ's voice sliced through his thoughts. "Enough chit-chat, Romeo. Time to put on your big boy pants and strut over to Mr. Homewrecker. Go on, I dare you." He took a long swig of his whiskey sour, wincing as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. "Everything okay?" Olivia asked, her hand gently touching his arm. He plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Yeah, just... I need to say hi to someone real
The man suddenly lurched to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. His designer suit was rumpled, and a faint whiff of expensive cologne mixed with the sour smell of booze hit Jackson's nostrils. "Look, buddy," the man slurred, jabbing a finger into Jackson's chest. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but I feel generous tonight. So tell me, what's your game? Do you want me to find this Veronica chick for you? Rough her up a bit? Or maybe you want me to give her a good, hard fuck? Is that it? You like watching, do ya?" Jackson recoiled, disgust twisting his features. The man didn't seem to notice, continuing his drunken monologue. "I could do it, you know. I'm a man of many talents." He winked, swaying dangerously. "I could make her scream so loud, they'd hear it in the next county. I'd bend her over, spank that tight little ass until it's red as a tomato, then-" "Jesus Christ, shut up!" Jackson snapped, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and a
The man's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes glassy from too much booze. "What's the matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?" He waved the gun carelessly, making Jackson flinch. "Tell you what, if you're so hard up you gotta come bothering me about some chick I may or may not have banged years ago, I can help you out." Jackson's eyebrows shot up, confusion momentarily replacing his anger. "Yeah, that's right," the man continued, leaning in close enough that Jackson could smell the whiskey on his breath. "If you ain't got no house or room to fuck your girlfriend, I can set you up real nice. Got a suite in a hotel just down the street. You can bang her brains out all night long, do whatever nasty little thing your heart desires." He paused, eyeing Jackson with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Or hell, if she ain't enough for ya, I can throw another girl or two. Assuming you got the stamina, of course." He guffawed at his own joke, spittle flying from his lips.
Jackson winced as the doctor dabbed at his bullet wound, her delicate touch somehow both soothing and electrifying. He noticed how her lab coat hugged her curves in all the right places. "So," the doctor said, her voice low and sultry, "is Olivia your girlfriend?" His eyes snapped up from where they'd been admiring the doctor's... bedside manner. "What? Oh, no. Just a friend." "Interesting. And how exactly did you end up with a bullet in your shoulder, Mr...?" "Jackson," he supplied, trying not to squirm as her fingers brushed against his skin. "And it's a funny story, actually. Well, not funny, 'haha,' more funny, 'Oh shit, I'm bleeding.'" She arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Right, I was at this pub with Olivia, and we ran into this guy who... well, let's just say he's not my biggest fan. See, he cheated on my girlfriend about nine years back, and I dumped her when I found out." The doctor's eyes widened. "And he shot you for that
Claire took the phone and quickly entered her number before handing it back. "There you go. But don't go getting yourself shot just to see me again." Jackson pocketed the phone, feeling a surge of triumph. "I'll do my best to avoid any more bullets." "Good plan," she said, stepping closer. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But if you need anything else... don't hesitate to call." Jackson's breath caught as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Anything else?" "Anything," she whispered back, her lips lingering dangerously close to his. His heart pounded as he turned his head slightly, their faces now inches apart. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin and smell her faint perfume. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips with his. The kiss started slow and tentative but quickly became more intense. Claire's hands tangled in his hair as she pressed against him, deepening the kiss. His mind sp
Jackson stepped out of the examination room, his mind still reeling from his encounter with Dr. Claire and already looking forward to his follow-up appointment. He barely registered his surroundings until a familiar voice snapped him back to reality. "Jackson! Are you alright?" Olivia rushed towards him, her face etched with concern. He blinked, suddenly remembering that Olivia had been waiting for him this whole time. Guilt mingled with the lingering arousal from his kiss with Claire. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Just a flesh wound, as they say." "It will take a few days to cure," she said, concerned. "Come on, I'll drop you off at your home." He nodded, his mind still fuzzy from the pain meds and the unexpected make-out session with Dr. Claire. He followed Olivia out of the hospital, his feet feeling like they were made of lead. Olivia slid into the driver's seat. He eased himself into the passenger side, trying not to jostle his injured shoulder. As they pulled out of the parking lo
Olivia whistled as she pulled up to the curb. "Damn, Jackson. You've been holding out on me. This place is swanky as hell." He smiled nervously. "Yeah, I recently came into some... unexpected good fortune." She raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, she hurried around to his side of the car, ready to help him. Jackson hesitated, realizing he no longer needed the assistance but unsure how to explain his sudden recovery. "I've got you," Olivia said, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jackson leaned into her, partly to maintain the charade and partly because, well, who wouldn't want to be pressed against a beautiful woman? They made their way to the elevator, Olivia supporting more of his weight than was strictly necessary. Olivia's jaw dropped as the elevator doors slid open on the top floor. "Holy shit, Jackson. This is your place?" The penthouse sprawled before them, all gleaming surfaces and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the twinklin