When the server had taken the plates and was asking if anyone wanted dessert, Janie grabbed his hand and squeezed. Hard.
Thank the precious Lord.
He made a show of checking his phone.
“I hate to cut the evening short,” Jackson said, trying to sound apologetic instead of relieved. “But I just got called into work.”
“And we rode together,” Janie added, picking up her purse. Before her father could object, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him she’d call him tomorrow.
Jackson took out his wallet and dropped a generous amount of money on the table, ignoring her father’s half-hearted protests.
“Please, it’s my pleasure,” Jackson said, giving her father a look that said he would brook no argument about this. Her father, as he had all evening, barely put up a fight.
Makenna popped up to give Janie a quick, tight hug and then they were out the door.
Once they were in the car and on their way, Jackson took a moment to look at Janie.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I need a stiff drink. Or three,” she replied, scrubbing a hand over her face.
“That can be arranged,” he replied.
“I know just the place,” Janie said with a tired smile. “Home, Jeeves.”
He pulled into traffic and steered the car uptown, steeling himself for the end of the night, but when they arrived, Janie turned to him and asked if he wanted to come in for a drink. Against his better judgment, he accepted.
He helped her out of the car and escorted her up the stairs. She unlocked the door, disarmed the security system and opened the door wide for him to enter. She stripped out of her coat, tossing it on the sofa as she passed through the living room.
The heels came off next, cast aside in the dining room until she was stalking into the kitchen barefoot. Jackson took off his coat, laying it over the back of the chair before taking a seat.
He thought about following her into the kitchen, but memories of their last encounter there told him that would be a bad idea. Instead he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and made himself comfortable.
A moment later, Janie returned from the kitchen, glasses in hand, with a bottle of Irish whiskey. She poured two fingers for him, three for herself and saluted him with her glass before taking a large swallow, all in silence.
He smiled and took a more modest sip of his own. It was good, and he focused on the warm burn as he swallowed, rather than focusing on Janie’s exposed legs as she sat down and tucked them beneath her on the couch.
“So…” He cleared his throat. “That was-”
“A trainwreck? A dumpster fire?” Janie chuckled darkly. “Sadly, that’s the norm for an evening with the Carpenters.”
“What exactly is her problem?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.
“Nancy? Me.” Janie shrugged.
“What does that mean?” he asked, taking another sip.
“She hates me. Not sure why. She didn’t always, but since I was about… six, maybe seven. Can’t remember,” she replied, taking another hefty swallow.
“What reason in the world could she possibly have to hate you? To hate a kid?”
“Don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t what she expected. Maybe when she had her own kid, she didn’t want me around anymore, but she was stuck with me.”
“Bitch,” Jackson muttered. “Sorry,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck.
Janie laughed and waved it away. “No, she is.”
“Still. Not my place to say anything.”
“Oh, no.” Janie shook her head. “Say whatever you want. You aren’t going to offend me by calling a spade a spade.”
“In that case, what the hell is your dad’s problem? Why does he let her talk to you like that?”
Janie’s expression fell and she stared into her drink for a moment before replying. He thought he’d gone too far and was fixing to apologize again when she looked up at him, her eyes sad, and maybe a little haunted.
“He doesn’t care about much, including me.” Janie shrugged. “Hasn’t since my mom died.”
“So, you lost both parents at once.”
Janie looked away, wiping a tear from her eye as she nodded. She took a deep breath and turned back to him with a bitter smile.
“Believe it or not, I liked Nancy at first. And she seemed to like me. She took me shopping and did my hair. We baked cookies together. For a while she was the only parent I had.”
She looked so heartbroken that he couldn’t help himself. He set his glass on the table and moved to sit beside her on the couch. He put an arm around her shoulders and after a moment she leaned into him, putting her head on his shoulder with a sigh.
“That must have been harder than if she’d been nasty from the start,” he observed quietly.
“Yeah,” she whispered, taking another sip of her drink, draining the glass. “Then again, I doubt my father would have married her in the first place if she hadn’t played nice. If he’d noticed, that is. But once he was hooked and she was pregnant…”
He took the empty glass from her and placed it on the coffee table beside his own. He pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her and squeezing gently.
“Well, if it helps, I wanted to take the both of them out behind the woodshed and give them the thrashing they deserve,” Jackson muttered. He wasn’t kidding, but Janie chuckled weakly anyway.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, I didn’t actually do it,” Jackson said with a wry smile.
“But you wanted to. And you didn’t run away screaming, so there’s that.”
“Nah,” Jackson shook his head. “Takes more than that to scare me off. Besides, no way would I have left you there with those jackals.”
She twisted in his arms, looking up at him with a curious expression. He stared down at her, holding his breath.
Her mascara was slightly smudged and her eyes were a little red and a little puffy. Her eyelashes were wet and they stuck together into points.
She was so damn beautiful it took his breath away. He waited for her to speak, but she never did. Instead she pulled herself up and pressed her lips against his. Her eyes fluttered closed and his followed soon after.
He followed her lead, letting her taste and explore at her own pace, which happened to be excruciatingly slowly. Her lips were soft and warm and tasted of whiskey. She kissed him like it was her first time, or at least their first time, softly molding her lips to his over and over again, teasing him with promises of the sweetness he knew was there if he could just delve a little deeper.
She pulled back and looked at him through those wet lashes.
“Your turn,” she whispered, a blush creeping across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
His hand found the back of her neck, and he worked his fingers into the mass of bronze curls there, enjoying their softness and the scent of her shampoo or perfume that drifted towards him when they moved. Some floral scent that reminded him of summer.
He kissed her softly, slowly, mimicking the way she’d kissed him. He moved slowly, taking the time to fully appreciate the feel of her lips, every nuance of their shape, before gradually coaxing her to open for him with gentle passes of his tongue against her upper lip.
She opened with a soft gasp and he couldn’t help a small growl in response. Nevertheless, he kept his pace deliberate as he explored her mouth, taking care to gauge her reactions.
He toyed with her hair, running it through his fingers as he encouraged her to tilt her head slightly to give him better access.
Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled him to her, opening wider, and just like that, their languid kiss turned scorching and desperate.
She moaned and nipped at his lower lip and his hand tightened in her hair, angling her head back more as his tongue clashed with hers.
Before he knew it was happening, he was laying her down on the couch beneath him and she was tugging frantically on
his shirt until she could slip her hands beneath the fabric and run them up his stomach to his chest.
He groaned as her warm hands blazed a path across his skin and he pressed his rapidly growing erection into the cradle of her thighs. She lifted her hips in response and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to grind against her.
He reminded himself that this was counterproductive. He was supposed to wait. He was supposed to take things slow. Second date sex was not taking things slow.
“Janie…” he murmured. Trying to think of the right thing to say to stop this without hurting her feelings and screwing things up between them.
“Jackson,” she purred, trailing one slender finger beneath the waist of his trousers, skimming dangerously close to his cock. He hissed through his teeth, grabbing her hand and pinning it above her head.
She gasped and her breathing picked up even more, pressing her breasts against his chest. He growled at the contact, wanting nothing more than to strip her naked and kiss every inch of her, head to toe, front to back. Twice.
Instead, balancing on one elbow, he lifted himself enough to reach between them, inching the hem of her skirt up until he could reach beneath it. He ran his free hand up the smooth skin of her thigh only to discover a surprise when he reached that sweet spot.
Jesus Christ and all the saints…
She was trying to kill him. She’d gone to dinner with him, in that dress, all night and she wasn’t wearing a damn thing underneath.
When he looked up at her, she was wearing that mischievous grin and he nearly came on the spot.
Yup, definitely trying to kill me…
CHAPTER TEN
The smile she’d given him had been bold and confident, but she was feeling anything but. She was nervous. She’d had plenty of sex, with plenty of guys, but this felt different. No other man had ever made her heart race or her knees tremble the way that he did.
She felt vulnerable, and that wasn’t something she was used to. For a moment she thought about putting a stop to things. Then he’d growled low in his throat like a starving man seeing steak for the first time and that thought fled her mind. She didn’t want to stop.
He continued to work the skirt of her dress up and over her hips until she was fully on display. Her legs were shaved, her bikini line was waxed into a perfect little triangle, and yet she felt the urge to cover herself, or turn out the lights.
She must have done something, pulled her legs closed a fraction or made some kind of noise, because he seemed to read her mind.
He caught her chin, forcing it up until she was looking him in the eye.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. “There isn’t a single inch of you that I wouldn’t get down on my knees and worship. You are a goddamn work of art.” His mouth descended on hers in a searing, savage kiss that left her breathless and aching. He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping gently at the skin at the hollow of her neck.
He continued down, kissing the tops of her breasts, which had begun spilling out the top of her dress, all the while his hand continued to tease the sensitive skin at the apex of her thighs. He never touched her where she most needed him to, but he trailed fingers up and down the skin of her thigh, ran his hand lightly over that perfect little triangle, and then down the other leg.
She was breathing fast, waiting for that moment when he would touch her. She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to jump, but something was holding her back.
Jackson’s tongue darted out and he swiped it beneath the fabric of her dress, caressing the top edge of her nipple. She moaned and arched her back, offering herself up to his mouth. He made a satisfied hum as he closed his teeth gently around her nipple through the blue fabric.
Her body jerked and she snaked her fingers into his hair, holding him close.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpered. In all her life she’d never uttered those words.
“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” he replied, and she could feel his smile as he shifted to capture her other nipple with a soft bite.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. His hand crept ever closer to where her body ached the most and she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Touch me. Please.”
“Patience, baby girl,” he said, his voice low and rough. She’d needled him about his constant use of endearments, but the way he’d called her ‘baby girl’ had her melting.
Jackson began moving further down her body, until his mouth was hovering right over her. His hands skimmed down her legs, hooking beneath her knees. He placed one leg over each shoulder and Janie closed her eyes in anticipation.
“Uh-uh, baby girl,” Jackson said, playfully biting her thigh. She opened her eyes and looked at him, waiting. “Eyes on me.”
Janie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he lowered his head and kissed her- once, twice, three times.
It was sweet torture, and possibly the hottest thing she’d ever seen. She continued to watch as he carefully parted her folds and licked her clit. Just once, very slowly, as if savoring it.
His eyes moved slowly down her body until he was staring at her, spread wide for him. But Janie couldn’t look away as he began to make circles around her clit with his tongue.
He started out wide and narrowed the circles until she felt the pressure begin to build low in her belly. Then Jackson closed his teeth around that little nub and nipped gently and she nearly hit the ceiling.
She moaned and he looked up at her as he pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked, hard.
“Jesus. Fuck.” Janie shouted as pleasure bordering on pain shot through her. Her eyelids fluttered, but she never looked away. She didn’t know why, but it seemed to be important. Important to him or to her, she wasn’t sure. Maybe both.
Apparently she was right because Jackson paused just long enough to praise her.
“Good girl,” he said, circling her entrance with one thick forefinger before slipping it inside her. She was so ready it slid in easily and he hummed in his throat as he continued to tease her. A second finger soon joined the first and the pressure inside her built even higher.
Her hips shifted of their own accord, trying to increase his pace, to add to the friction, to do anything to speed things up. Jackson looked up at her again from between her legs and placed his free hand firmly on her stomach, holding her in place.
“Please,” she begged. She’d never begged, in or out of the bedroom. Who was she? What was he doing to her? She didn’t really care right now. All she cared about was that her whole body was on fire and she needed relief.
Jackson seemed to sense her desperation, doubling his efforts. He did things with his tongue she hadn’t even known were possible, and he curled his fingers inside her, fluttering them against her g-spot until she was whimpering like a puppy.
The pressure built still more until it erupted like a volcano, rushing through her and wringing a high pitched squeal she didn’t recognize from her throat. Her body spasmed, over and over, pulling greedily at his fingers. She felt a rush of warm liquid between her legs and was mortified until she released Jackson was literally lapping it up.
And he was still looking at her as she came. It was a struggle not to squeeze her eyes shut as she usually did at the pinnacle moment, but she’d kept her eyes on him, just like he’d told her.
As the pleasure ebbed away and her orgasm subsided, Jackson growled, wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt before moving up and kissing her, hard and deep.
She could taste herself on his tongue as he plundered her mouth. His hands weaving their way into her hair again, gripping firmly as he turned her head first one way and then the other, seeking the best possible angle.
Sated and weak kneed as she was, she kissed him back with the same fervor. She’d just had an amazing orgasm, but she still wanted more. More of him.
It was several long moments later when he finally pulled away, both of them gasping for air. Jackso
n, his weight resting on his elbows, lowered his head to Janie’s shoulder, chest heaving.
Janie wrapped her leg around his hips, pressing him more firmly against her. She was still sensitive and he was large and hard against her. She wanted it. She wanted him. He’d already proven he had spectacular skills, but beyond that, she wanted him.
Despite all her best efforts to hold him at arm’s length, there was something irresistible about him that drew her like a moth to a flame. He was like a drug.
Janie rolled her eyes at all these cliched thoughts running through her head, but she couldn’t find a better way to describe the way she felt about him. At least not one she was willing to admit, even to herself.
“Jesus,” Jackson growled, grinding his hips into her.
Janie moaned, tilting her hips to better fit his. Then he was gone. She looked up in confusion, but he was literally gone. She looked over and saw him lying on the floor, one hand thrown over his eyes while he used the other to adjust himself.
“Did you fall?” Janie asked in confusion.
“In a sense,” Jackson replied.
“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“No,” Jackson choked out. “But I’ll live.”
“Oh,” Janie replied, confused. She suddenly felt exposed. She sat up and shimmied her skirt back down as best she could. She cringed at the wet spot on the sofa, but tried not to think about how she was going to explain it to Angel tomorrow.
She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had the sneaking suspicion that the romantic portion of the evening had come to an end. She couldn’t complain. He’d certainly taken very good care of her, while he was still unsatisfied. But she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt that he didn’t want to continue.
Had he just been finishing what he started out of some weird sense of obligation? Had what he’d seen made him change his mind? Was he regretting this already?
Why couldn’t she stop these kinds of thoughts from intruding at the worst times? What the hell was wrong with her?
✽✽✽
“Hey,” Jackson said quickly, sitting up. He ignored the lightheadedness and popped up onto his knees so that he and Janie were eye to eye. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I don’t like it.”
Her Defender (MacLachlan Security Group Book 2) Page 10
