you’ve really got a hold on me | jackie jackson
caught between a lifelong obsession and the harsh reality of his reputation, you have to decide if one night with jackie jackson is worth the risk of sharing him with the rest of the world.
the obsession started the exact moment rebbie brought you through the front door of the hayvenhurst house. you were supposed to be rebbie’s friend, just a girl from the neighborhood hanging around, but your eyes never really stayed on her. they were always tracking the oldest jackson brother and his were always tracking yours.
you were just a little bit younger than jackie, right in that sweet spot where you were old enough to know exactly how fine he was, but young enough that daddy would kill you for having a boyfriend.
back then, you made it your mission to ensure he couldn’t ignore you entirely. what’s wrong with a little shameless flirting?
you practically lived at their house during the summers, lounging around their pool in a tiny, bright bikinis that did a terrible job of keeping you covered.
you’d catch him staring from the balcony or the edge of the patio, his jaw slightly tight before he’d shake his head and flash that smooth, blinding smile.
you got along with everyone—the brothers thought you were cool, mrs. jackson loved your manners, and the whole family took a massive liking to you.
then, everyone grew up. the brothers went on major tours, conquering the world, and you went off and built a life of your own. a career. the years flipped by, stretching the distance between those hot summer pool days and the present.
that is until, the jacksons had just gotten back from a massive tour, and jackie stopped by rebbie’s place to drop off a package. you happened to be sitting on rebbie’s living room couch, sipping tea. when the front door opened and he walked in, time just stopped.
he wasn't looking at a teenage girl in a skimpy swimsuit anymore. he was looking at a woman—curves fully formed, carrying herself with an effortless, breathtaking confidence. this was grown woman fine. and for you, seeing him was a physical ache. he was gorgeous, sculpted to absolute perfection, with that same magnetic energy that used to make your knees weak when you were sixteen.
the shift in the room was instant. jackie’s eyes locked onto yours, his usual smooth talk completely deserting him for a solid five seconds. he barely said two words to rebbie before he was completely focused on you, his voice deep and honey-slow as he asked how you’d been.
according to rebbie, the moment jackie left the house that night, he vowed he was going to have you.
by noon the next day, the campaign began. a massive arrangement of deep red roses arrived at your apartment, followed by a sleek silver box containing an elegant silk scarf. attached was a neat, handwritten card:
just one night, the two of us. xo, jackie
you traced the ink of his signature, your heart doing a violent flip against your ribs. the teenage version of you would have fainted on the spot. the current version of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, to feel his frame pressed against yours, to finally have the man you’d spent years dreaming about.
but you weren't a teenager anymore, and you knew the rules of the game.
jackie jackson was a notorious ladies' man. he was charming, brilliant, and possessed a smile that could manipulate the weather, let alone a woman's heart. he had women throwing themselves at him in every city across the globe. he was used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it, and you knew that "just one night" with a man like him would ruin you for anyone else forever.
you couldn't do casual with him. your love ran too deep, too native to who you were. if you couldn't have every single piece of him—his loyalty, his quiet moments, his exclusive attention, and his whole heart—then you didn't want him at all. hiding him from other women or sharing him with the world wasn't an option.
picking up the phone, you dialed the number left on the card. it rang twice before his smooth, velvety voice answered.
"hello?"
"the flowers are beautiful, jack," you said softly, leaning back against your kitchen counter, "but a ladies' man only gets to look.“
and with that, you hung up the phone before he could respond, leaving jackie completely stunned on the other end. he wanted you, bad. and he was going to get you.
