“There goes half my damn wardrobe,” he joked.
She snickered, her lips curling into a smile. “And you should always greet me with a kiss.”
His fingers stilled on her feet. Jack glanced up at her, and her eyes were soft and aroused, and damn if his cock didn’t jump to life in his jeans. “You like it when I kiss you?”
“Too much,” she admitted.
“No such thing.” He set her feet down carefully and slid over to the couch, pushing aside the dog and the angry cat, who glared at him as if he was committing a grave sin. He didn’t care; they could move. He was going to sit next to his girl. Jack wedged his way onto the couch, then pulled Layla’s legs across his lap. “We could make a different rule about kissing,” he suggested, sliding a hand up and down her pajama-clad leg.
“I’m open to amendments.” Her voice was breathless.
“Maybe we use kisses as currency,” he began.
“Now you’re speaking an accountant’s language.” Layla chuckled.
“If I want to ask you something, I have to offer up kisses in return. Just like if you want to ask me something, you need to kiss me to purchase it.”
“Tough, but fair,” she teased. “Is it just for questions, then?”
“Well, I think a nice foot rub is at least worth two kisses.”
She pretended to consider it for a moment. “I think that’s fair. So would you like to collect your kisses now or at the end of this date?”
“Are we on a date? I thought we were just hanging out.” He slid his hand to the small of her back and tugged her forward, until she was practically in his lap and close enough to kiss. Her arms went around his neck, and her gaze slid to his mouth.
“So I owe you two kisses,” she breathed, her look entranced as she stared at his mouth.
He glanced up at that clip in her hair and wanted to take it back down again . . . then paused. “I want to ask you something first.”
“Then you’ll owe me a kiss.”
“We can cancel each other out, I guess.” He nodded, gesturing at the clip. “Did you pull it up because you wanted me to slow down? You won’t hurt my feelings if the answer’s yes. I just need to know.”
Her cheeks flamed bright red and she bit her lip. “No,” she said softly. “I put it up so you could take it down again, because you said you liked to.”
And she gave him a look of such yearning that Jack groaned low in his throat.
“I’m still owed that kiss, aren’t I?” he asked huskily. “Come here, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jack’s mouth was sweet and flirty on hers, his kiss playful and nipping, with just the occasional flick of tongue. He didn’t devour her with his mouth like he had before. He was keeping it light and airy, and she knew the message behind it—no strings attached. She could end this at any time. It was just flirting. Just fun.
Problem was, it made Layla hungry for more. She’d made a big speech about holding him at arm’s length, and now that his mouth was on her again, she wanted nothing more than to shuck that thought. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to give her more than just a peppering of kisses. She wanted that wild hunger she’d felt before.
So when the kiss broke and Jack smiled down at her and rubbed his nose against hers, she didn’t climb off his lap. Layla wrapped her arms tighter around him and leaned in, nipping at his lower lip. His jaw really was bristly and tearing at her skin, but she didn’t care. It just added to the wicked sensations. “Are we doing more bargaining?”
Jack arched an eyebrow at her. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Well . . .” She studied his mouth, so full and soft and perfect for kissing. “I know what the price is for a kiss . . . what’s the going price for you to touch me?”
Jack stiffened for a moment, and then his eyes flared with heat. “Baby, are you sure that’s what you want? I’m not trying to pressure you—”
“I know,” Layla interrupted. She plucked at one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt. “I just . . . I like it when you kiss me. And I like your hands on my back, and on my ankle.” She felt vulnerable as she spoke, and oddly enough . . . powerful, too. Confessing what she liked was both terrifying and exhilarating, and Jack was looking at her with such a hungry, possessive gaze that it made her all kinds of turned on. Her pulse felt as if it was throbbing directly between her thighs, and if she squeezed her legs together, she could feel just how wet she was. “I don’t want to stop,” she told him softly. “So what’s the currency?”
He groaned, burying his hand in her hair and pulling her close for another kiss. This one was different than the others, deeper, hotter, wetter. It made her toes curl with need. It made her pulse race. It made her breathless and aroused and she pushed at the collar of his shirt until she could slip her hand inside and touch warm skin. Maybe if he didn’t want to touch her, she could touch him—
His mouth broke from hers, and Layla let out a whimper of protest. “Kiss,” Jack breathed, even as he leaned in to kiss along her jaw toward her ear. “I get to kiss you. And I get to pick where.”
Layla moaned, her imagination running wild at the thought. “Are we sure that’s fair—”
“Fuck fair,” he growled.
“Okay,” she agreed, breathless. Fair was going out the window. “Where—”
“I’ll show you.” Then his mouth was on her ear, and his tongue traced the shell of it before he took her earlobe in his mouth and gently sucked. Layla clung to him, a whimper escaping her throat. His mouth on her ear turned something she rarely thought of—an ear, of all things—into an utterly sensual and highly ticklish body part. Her dangling earrings from last night were gone; he must have taken them off her when she was drunk. Her ears were bare and when he nipped at her skin, it sent shivers racing through her and made her clench in all kinds of pleasant places. Oh god, yeah, she was liking ears.
But then he moved to her neck, bristly jaw scraping against her skin, and she sucked in a breath, holding him against her as he mouthed her neck and sucked on her skin. Okay, necks were also highly sensual, it turned out. Then again, maybe it was just Jack that made even the most boring of body parts into highly erotic nerve bundles.
“I don’t wanna go too fast for you, Layla,” he murmured against her neck, then dragged his tongue along the cords. “You tell me if I go too fast.”
Her fingers were knotted in the front of his shirt, and she clung to him as if he was the only thing keeping her together. As if the moment he let go of her, she’d crumble into a thousand needy pieces.
He lifted his head and gazed at her, long and hard, and it made Layla feel breathless. “What is it?”
Jack kissed her again, softly. “Wait here.”
Like she was going to go anywhere with her bad ankle? But she didn’t protest when he slid her off his lap and got to his feet. The front of his jeans was tented as he stood, and it sent a little thrill of excitement to see the effect she was having on him.
“Much as I like snuggling with you on the couch,” Jack drawled as he moved to the other side. “It’s a bit crowded.” He picked up Oscar, who was settled with Sterling on the far end of the sofa, and gently moved the dog to his bed in the corner. Before he could reach for the cat, Sterling hopped up and followed after him, tail flicking with irritation. Jack grinned over at her. “I think your cat doesn’t like me.”
“That’s okay. Half the time I don’t think he likes me, either.”
His gaze grew hot, his eyes seemingly so dark in his handsome face. “Impossible.”
That simple word stole the breath from her lungs. The look he gave her was so intense she was practically squirming, and when he moved back to the couch, where she sat, she threw herself at him, her mouth seeking his. Their lips met again, tongues teasing, and when Layla moaned, his hand went down her hip and held tightly to her there.
“You wanna guess where I’m going to kiss you?”
“Is it someplace good?”
He chuckled, kissing her upper lip. “I think so. I hope you think so, too.” Jack brushed his mouth over hers again. “You tell me if anything is too much for you and I’ll stop.”
She was starting to think “too much” wasn’t a thing that would happen with Jack. Every touch he gave her was more exciting than the last, and she wanted nothing more than for him to peel her shirt off and touch her.
“Lie down with me on the couch here, baby,” he murmured. “So I can touch all of you.”
Like she had to be told twice? Layla shimmied down until she was lying flat, then elevated her bad foot on the arm of the couch as he lay next to her. His hand moved to her belly again, and he kissed her one more time.
“Gonna kiss these pretty breasts of yours, unless you tell me no,” he told her between nips of her bottom lip.
Oh god, that sounded amazing. “Why would I tell you no?” She was practically squirming against him at the thought.
“Because I don’t want to rush you—”
“Rush me,” she blurted. “Please rush me.”
He grinned down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “God, you’re cute.” His hand stroked lower, lingering at the waist of her pants. “I kiss your pretty tits, and that means I touch you, right? That was the deal we had?”
Layla had thought that by touching he meant her breasts, but when his hand skimmed over the juncture between her thighs, she realized she hadn’t been clear enough. And oh . . . now she wanted that, too. Lord, but he was making her greedy. She sucked in a breath and nodded.
She liked his idea far better than hers.
“Part your legs for me, Layla,” he murmured as his finger rubbed between her legs, moving perfectly over her slit despite the layers of clothing. Suddenly she was panting and needy, all from that small touch, and she’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted this man.
“Jack,” she breathed. “Oh god, please, Jack—”
“I’ve got you,” he promised. “And I’ll make it so good for you, sweetheart.” He kissed her one more time, soft and lingering, and then began to work his way down her neck again. All the while, he stroked her folds through her pajamas, making her hips arch up against his touch. She was so wet she could feel her clothing sticking to her, but he murmured against her neck how sexy that was, and Layla lost herself to his touch.
She was panting and needy, a whine escaping her when his hand lifted to pull her shirt up. She needed his hand back between her thighs, so she grabbed the hem of her top and jerked it over her head like a shameless wild woman. She couldn’t pull her bra off without tugging the entire thing over her head, but he caressed her skin and then tugged one strap down her arm, pulling the cup down until her breast spilled free of its confines, and a new quiver went through her when Jack groaned.
“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her. His hand went between her legs again, and she practically screamed with joy as it did.
He nuzzled at her breast, rubbing his cheek and jaw against her skin before running his mouth over the tip, and Layla slid her hands to his shoulders.
“Just as pretty and soft as the rest of you,” he murmured against her skin, and as she watched, he flicked his tongue over her nipple.
Layla moaned.
“Gonna kiss you here,” he promised, taking her nipple in his mouth and lightly scoring it with his teeth in a way that felt shocking and utterly arousing, and her hips jerked of their own volition. “I know,” he promised her. “I’ve got you.”
“Jack,” she breathed. “I need—”
“I know.” He dipped his hand into her sleep pants, tugging them downward, and then rolled them and her panties down to her thighs in one smooth motion. Then his hand went back between her legs and he cupped her mound. The breath hissed between his teeth. “You’re so wet. Look at how wet you are, baby.” He dragged his fingers through her folds, and she could hear it just as much as she could see it, and it was the most obscene and erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
Then his mouth was on her breast again, kissing and licking and sucking on the sensitive tip even as he pushed a finger into her. Layla whimpered at the invasion—even though she was wet, it felt tight and hot, and she knew it was because his fingers were so big. He stroked it into her, murmuring against her skin, and then she felt his thumb brush against her clit.
Everything inside her tightened as he began to rub it back and forth with the pad of his thumb. Her whimpers took on a new degree of urgency, and Jack sucked on her nipple and murmured filthy things to her while he worked her pussy with his hand, driving into her with a finger and teasing her clit at the same time.
It was too much for her to last long. Layla began to pant, drawing in one short breath after another as everything quickened, and when he sucked hard on her nipple and pushed his thumb against her clit at the same time, she practically came off the couch.
“That’s it,” he encouraged in his sexy, deep voice. “You come for me, baby. You come all over my hand and let me feel all of it.”
He jiggled his thumb over her clit, not stopping the tight, quick motion, and a tiny shriek erupted from her as she dug her fingers into his shoulders, an orgasm ripping through her harder than she’d ever experienced in her life. She’d made herself come plenty of times, but this was on a completely different level, and it cascaded through her so hard that stars danced behind her eyes, and her body was making obscene noises as Jack fingered her and she didn’t even care. Everything tightened and unraveled in slow motion, until she finally settled back into herself, breathless and lost in Jack’s arms. A slow, dazed moan escaped her as he moved back over Layla to kiss her mouth again.
“Was that too much?” he asked softly, stroking her folds one more time.
“It was perfect,” she whispered, and it was.
She’d never felt so beautiful, or needed. Sure, Layla was currently lying with her pants around her thighs and a boob out of her bra, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. And when Jack slid down next to her and held her close, wrapping his arms around her, she felt so damn good that she wondered what she’d ever worried about. Being with Jack had felt natural and right. Like she’d waited all her life for someone to touch her in a way that made her want to forget all her worries—and she’d found it.
Layla sighed happily, snuggling up against his chest.
“Not nervous any longer, I take it?” he murmured into her ear.
“Nope.” She smiled lazily. “Give me a few to catch my breath and we’ll take care of you.”
Jack chuckled and brushed his thumb over her nipple again, as if unable to resist the temptation of it. “It’s not quid pro quo. I’m fine.”
She looked over at him in surprise. “I can feel something very distinct against my leg that calls you a liar.”
He grinned down at her. “Busted. But I didn’t do that because I wanted my cock sucked. I did that because I wanted to touch you, and I plan on doing it again.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And again.” And then he grimaced. “But for now, I should probably head out to the ranch and make sure my brothers have things covered.”
“Oh, you have to go?” The thought was depressing. She wanted him to stay. She wanted to curl up with him all day long and just laze on the couch and watch reruns of Law & Order. She wanted to hog absolutely all of his attention.
But of course he had things to do. Just . . . did he have to bring it up now? When she was all vulnerable and needy? “You can’t stay for a little longer?”
He hesitated and then kissed her. “Of course I can. Just let me text Caleb and Hank.”
Jack squeezed in next to her on the couch, and even though it was a tight fit, she didn’t care. He pillowed his head on her breasts as he texted, and she
wrapped her arms around him and tried not to read over his shoulder, even though it looked like one of his brothers was sending over strings of gobbledygook.
“Hank’s terrible at texting,” Jack murmured, grinning over at her. “Too much callus on his big fat fingers and he just sends a mess.”
“You going to call him?”
“Nah. He can guess where I’m at. My truck’s been parked in front of your house all night.”
Layla inwardly cringed. She lived smack-dab in the middle of town, across the street from one of the local shops. Her neighbor ran the dry cleaner and loved to gossip. Of course everyone would notice. They would piece together that she’d bought Jack at the auction and they were sleeping together a whole week later.
She was now a fast, desperate accountant. Layla groaned and put a hand to her forehead. “I guess it’s too late to do damage control.”
Jack glanced up at her, his hair messy against her skin. “Damage control? You should be proud to be dating me, Layla Schmidt.”
“Dating you isn’t the part that’s damaging,” she said, poking his nose. “It’s the part where everyone thinks I’m a cheap slut for buying you and then having you stay overnight to screw my slutty self into oblivion.”
“Hey now. I’ll have you know that slut is my girlfriend.”
Layla snort-giggled. “Thanks.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are some that thought you were a slut the moment you bought me.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. “It’s a small town. You learn to ignore the idiots.”
Easy for him to say: he didn’t work with them or do their taxes. But . . . Jack made her happy, and the damage was done, so she was going to do her best to ignore all of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
They snuggled on her couch for a good hour before Jack had to get up and leave, and he made sure to wrap her ankle tightly for her before he left, insisting that she call him if she needed anything. They kissed at the door for a solid ten minutes before he got into his truck and left, and she knew the look of regretful longing he shot in her direction was echoed on her face. Layla wanted him to stay all night. Tomorrow night, too. Heck, every night. But Jack’s job at the ranch didn’t make that sort of thing possible. He had responsibilities.
The Bachelor Cowboy Page 15
