"I really like the way you think," Jackson told her with a brief smile. Hard meant facing the wall, so he roughly spun her about - roughly, the way he wouldn't have if he didn't know it was exactly what she wanted.

For the first, at least.

Roughly, he pushed inside her, burying himself with a contented groan he did nothing to hide (why would he). His hands stroked over her back, until each found a good enough grip that he could give her exactly what she had asked for: hard.