“Farmboy, fetch me that pitcher?” I was hoping the Princess Bride reference would help ease the tension a little.
He paused a moment at my non-sequitur, and then the dimple appeared with his faint smile, and he handed it to me.
“As you wish.”
I smiled back and took it.
“Thanks.”
I took a sip, thankful it was still warm. I held it out to him, and he crouched down again next to me.
“Taste?” I asked.
He took it from my hand, but instead of taking a sip, he set it down on the floor out of reach. Then his hand cupped my face and turned me toward him, his eyes searching mine.
“Say yes, Keri Ann.”
I sighed and closed my eyes against the feel of his skin.
“Yes.” It was the easiest thing I’d ever said.
He shifted, dropping his knees to the floor in front of me. His other hand came up to cradle my face, his thumbs running over my jaw and cheekbones. I watched him under my lashes as his eyes roamed my face, and then his mouth descended to my forehead, each eyelid, one cheekbone, then the other, and finally, my mouth.
I clutched his wrists for balance as his tongue lightly ran over the seam of my lips. I opened to him, and he groaned.
“Mmmm, chocolate.” He took another taste. “And margaritas.” His tongue slid along mine again. “And Keri Ann. A heady mix.”
It was for me. My heart pounded deep throbbing beats through my body. Still holding his arms, I came forward to my knees and we both raised up our bodies meeting from leg to chest. My hands worked of their own volition winding up his neck and into his wet hair, and I pulled his mouth more firmly down against mine.
His lips were warm and soft next to the rough skin of his chin, and I drew closer to him like a magnet, needing to press my body, my skin, against his. But there were two layers of fabric between us, and I became aware of the cool press of his wet t-shirt.
Letting go of his neck, I brought my hands down to slide under the hem of his shirt. He inhaled sharply as my warm hands made contact with his skin.
“You need to take this off,” I managed. My voice sounded raspy to my own ears as I made to lift the fabric.
He let go of me and reached behind his neck. Gathering a handful of shirt, he peeled it forward over his head.
My breath left me as I came face to chest with his perfectly sculpted body. The firelight played across his skin and his flexed abdominal muscles as he leaned back on his haunches slightly to lay the shirt out by the fire.
Without thinking, I brought the flat of my hand up to the center of his chest below his collarbone. His skin was cool to the touch and smooth.
He stilled where he was, leaning slightly away from me on his knees and brought his eyes to mine.
I very slowly ran my palm down over the ridges and planes of his chest, pausing for a moment when I noticed the hard beat of his heart. His eyes got darker and broodier as my hand continued it’s slow journey downward. His breathing changed, as did my own in response. My eyes dropped to follow my hand as it reached the belt buckle of his black jeans.
I took a deep breath. “You should take these off, too.” My words came out as a whisper.
His jaw tightened, his dark eyes watching me.
I went to undo the buckle but his hands stilled me. For a moment, I thought he was going to keep his wet clothes on. As much as he needed to take them off so they could dry and he could get warm, I was hyper aware of the combustible situation that existed between us. I knew he was too.
He shifted away and brought up one foot, then the other, to undo the laces on his black boots. His socks came next, and he laid them by the fire. I was mesmerized by every action. His hands returned to his buckle as he stood and undid the belt and his buttons, revealing the waistband of his black boxer briefs. Then, leaning down, he shucked his jeans off each leg and stood back up.
My shallow breathing was loud next to the soft crackle and pop of the fire, and I swallowed the lump in my throat as my eyes took in how aroused he was. He was glorious in his perfection, like a dark angel.
He reached for the towel and wrapped it around his middle covering himself, and I realized my face must have shown my trepidation. I looked up at him.
“It’s okay, Keri Ann. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
Oh, but I wished he would.
T W E N T Y – T W O
“I’m not the one who’s undressed. You should be worried about me taking advantage of you.” I grinned sheepishly.
Jack chuckled and came over to sit beside me by the fireplace.
I pulled the blanket up over our legs.
The storm picked up again and there was a flash of lightning followed by a sharp crack of thunder that was a whip on my tightened nerves. I jumped.
“You don’t like storms?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tucking me in against him. It felt good and unexpected.
“Actually, I love stormy nights. Hot chocolate and firelight and now barely dressed men have probably made them my all time favorite.” I nudged him playfully, my awareness of him still simmering insistently in a warm pool inside me.
He laughed and squeezed my shoulders.
I realized he was telling the truth. He really wouldn’t take advantage of me.
I took a deep breath and turned to him. Drawing his face down to mine, I kissed him.
He held his body tense as I touched my lips to his.
It was slow and soft, his lips giving way to mine and moving in gentle rhythm, tasting my lips with his lips. The kisses were delicious, but I wanted more. I wanted passionate Jack who couldn’t control his breathing or his reactions when he was kissing me.
I turned more fully toward him and tentatively ran the tip of my tongue along his lower lip like he had done to me.
Jack’s reaction was swift. It was like he’d been waiting for permission. One minute we were sitting side by side, the next he gave a soft growl and had me on my back with half his body covering me.
I gasped under the sudden move and his weight before he lowered his mouth and plundered mine. Heat speared through my core and my body, of it’s own accord, arched to meet his.
Jack’s lips moved with greed, his tongue sliding in and claiming me, leaving me almost lightheaded.
Reaching up, I clutched the hair at his nape and sought to taste more of what he was giving me. The feel of his body along the length of mine was intoxicating. My hands roamed down over his bare shoulders, clutching at the tense muscles in his back. I wished I were wearing less. I had a demanding need to feel my skin against his. That annoying ache I had a feeling only one thing would fix had started up between my legs and was getting more and more intense.
Jack’s kisses moved down toward my neck.
I sighed with pleasure and shivered involuntarily as his tongue trailed up over my earlobe.
“You like that?” he whispered in my ear causing another shudder to run through me.
I nodded with an incoherent sound and felt his smile against my sensitive skin before his tongue darted out again. I moaned, tilting my head back and exposing more of my neck to his hot mouth. Yes, please. I wanted a lot more of that, too.
The movement had thrust my chest forward toward him and his hand came up to rest on the bare skin of my stomach where my shirt had ridden up. One of his legs was slung over mine, and I felt how hard he was for me. From experience that was limited to pictures I had giggled over with Jazz, or my imagination, he felt ... big. A tremor ran through me.