Jack must have sensed her unease. He put his bag down by the door and moved to her side. He put his arms around her and gazed down into her face. “I can leave, if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m glad you’re here. I’m just being weird.”
“If you weren’t weird, would you be you?”
She poked him in the stomach. “Very funny.”
“I am quite a catch,” he agreed.
She rolled her eyes, chuckling. Jack and his corny jokes always made her smile, and some of her tension eased. “Did you . . . want to watch some television?”
He shook his head. “I have to get up pretty early and you look beat. Okay if we just go ahead and go to bed?”
She was fine with that. Bed seemed like a great idea, and even as she thought about it, a yawn rose in her throat. “Okay.”
“First we should probably get our son settled,” Jack joked. “Where does Oscar sleep?” He glanced over at the dog curled up on the couch.
“With Sterling, surprisingly enough. He’ll be fine in the living room and Sterling’s bed is in the corner. If I try to separate them, Sterling gets mad and looks for Oscar. I think the cat thinks Oscar is a helpless kitten. He’s always grooming him and bossing him around.”
“Oscar probably loves it.”
She suspected he did. The dog meekly put up with Sterling’s authoritative attention and even sought it out. Layla suspected that Oscar just liked any attention, be it from a cat or a human. And Jack was good to humor the spoiled dog, she thought affectionately as her boyfriend scooped up the dachshund and settled him in the cat bed. Sure enough, Sterling jumped in after him and immediately started licking Oscar’s flanks. The dog got more attention from her cat than she did lately.
Maybe Layla wasn’t the only lonely one.
“Come on,” Jack said, taking her hand in his and tugging on it. “You look wiped. Let’s get you to bed.”
He retrieved his overnight bag and she let him lead her up the stairs and into her bedroom. The moment they got into her room, though, she cringed at the state of things. Her laptop was on one corner of the bed, cords everywhere. More paperwork was scattered and there were dirty clothes and old chip bags all over the dresser. An empty carton of ice cream sat on the nightstand. “I . . . ah . . . wasn’t expecting company.”
“My place looked similar,” he offered. “I cleaned up when you said you were coming over.”
She started to pick up the trash when her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Layla froze in place, her stomach clenching.
“Don’t answer it,” Jack warned. “You know it’s not important.”
“It’s late, though. What if it is important? What if something bad has happened?”
“Or what if it’s just your mother guilting you?”
Layla was pretty sure it was, but it felt awful to ignore it. Her phone buzzed with two more texts and she pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to Jack. “I can’t look. Just tell me if it’s an emergency.”
She watched his face as he read the texts. After a moment, he rolled his eyes. “Not an emergency. Just an emergency guilt trip.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t want to read it. She’s sending you pictures of how much she’s crying.”
Layla blanched.
“She’s just trying to make you feel bad because you stood up to her, Layla.” Jack tossed her phone down on the bed and moved to her side. He cupped her face. “I’m proud of you, though. Land aside, my involvement aside, you stood up to a woman that uses you and put your foot down. Of course she’s mad. But I couldn’t be prouder.”
“Hearing that makes things a little easier.” Layla put her hands over his and looked up at him, hoping he’d kiss her. She desperately wanted one of those deep, intense, drugging kisses that made her forget the entire world.
But Jack only smiled at her. “Why don’t you get ready for bed. I’ll change in the bathroom downstairs.”
“Sure.” Maybe he’d kiss her when they’d gotten into bed. Right now, she wanted kisses and cuddling far more than she wanted a good night’s sleep. She’d told him tonight was going to be chaste, though, so she didn’t want to send him the wrong signals.
Ugh. Why did she have to overthink everything?
Layla grabbed a pajama set, changed, brushed her teeth, and got into bed. She’d deliberately picked a loose-fitting T-shirt and a pair of cotton pajama shorts and skipped underwear and a bra. Wearing so little and knowing she was about to crawl into bed with the best-looking man she’d ever met made her feel sexy and a little scandalous. Would he notice she wasn’t wearing a bra? Would it make him want to touch her?
Why did she feel like such a giggly teenager right now? Good lord.
She crossed her legs and waited for Jack, because getting under the covers would have felt too weird. Layla played with a piece of lint on the hem of her worn shirt and tried not to think about her mother. Her phone was at the corner of the bed where he’d left it, and she deliberately didn’t touch it. Tonight was all about her and Jack. No one else. She’d let the real world intrude again tomorrow.
There was a light knock at her door.
“Come in,” Layla said, feeling nervous and giddy at the same time.
Jack poked his head in, grinning at her. “Ready for bed?”
“More than ready.” Layla shifted on the bed. “Which side do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna hog the blankets and put my hands all over you either way.”
She blushed, chuckling. “Then you get the right.” She watched him as he entered the room, and her mouth went dry. Jack moved with a mix of graceful confidence and masculine swagger. He wore nothing but a pair of black sleep pants, and it showed off his glorious abdomen and muscles. Her hands itched to touch him, and a low curl of heat started in her belly.
She wasn’t the only one feeling the heat, if Jack’s expression was an indication. His eyes were heavy-lidded in that sexy way that made them look so very dark and sultry. He sauntered toward the bed and sat down across from her. “In all seriousness, how do you want me?”
Layla’s mouth was suddenly dry. “W-what?”
“On the bed.” He grinned, and she knew that he knew there was a double entendre there. “Under the covers? Over the covers? Across the room?”
A chuckle escaped her. “Something tells me that wasn’t very serious at all. And I didn’t ask you to come over so you could sleep on the floor.”
“I know, but I’d do it for you if you needed me to.”
Her heart squeezed. “I’d like you under the covers. With me. Can we . . . cuddle?”
“I love a good cuddle,” he assured her and got under the blankets, then opened his arms for her. “Come on over.”
A shy smile on her face, Layla set her glasses down on the nightstand. She scooted under the covers herself, then moved over to his side. She settled in, resting her cheek against his shoulder as his arms went around her. Her hand went to his bare, warm chest, and it felt . . . nice. Like home. Layla closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m greedy for every scrap of attention you give me.” One of his hands drifted lazily up and down her shoulders, rubbing. “I’m happy to do this as often as you want.”
“What if I said I wanted it every night?” She burrowed down lower against him, loving the warmth of his skin, the scent of him, his big presence.
“Then I would say I need to bring a toothbrush and leave it here,” he teased. “Because my morning breath is utterly outrageous.”
Somehow, she doubted that very much. Everything about Jack was . . . well, it was pretty close to perfect in her eyes. He didn’t have a temper, he was easygoing and fun, and he was gorgeous. They had great conversations and she enjoyed every moment she spent with him. “If your morning breath is yo
ur biggest flaw, I’m the luckiest girl ever.”
“I think my biggest flaw is that I’m a clingy, needy sort,” he teased. His other hand went to her bare arm, his fingertips skating lightly up and down over her skin. It sent prickles of arousal through her belly, and her nipples pricked in awareness.
“You? Clingy? Doubtful.”
“You think so? Because I seem to recall declaring love for a girl I’ve been dating for about two weeks.”
“Well, the girl declared it first. So what does that make her?”
“Equally clingy?”
Layla poked him in the side. Hard.
“I see nothing wrong with you being clingy, baby. As long as you’re clingy to me.” Jack rubbed her arm and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
It was a sweet kiss. A tender kiss. A kiss that was not nearly enough, not in the slightest. Had she said she wanted to just cuddle tonight? Clearly she was off her rocker. Because having Jack’s big body pressed against hers, half naked and so close she could eat off his flat abdomen? It was doing all kinds of things to her.
All kinds of very not-chaste, not-virginal things.
Experimentally, Layla let her hand glide over his stomach, caressing down the trail of hair that disappeared when it got close to his belly button. Layla watched her finger trace along his sun-darkened stomach, and then she leaned in, pressing her mouth against his pectoral.
Jack groaned and shifted against her. The blankets had pooled at his waist, but she wondered if he’d be hard if she lifted them up. She wanted to see.
She wanted to touch.
Her hand slid lower, even as she tilted her face against his pectoral a bit more, kissing again, and then letting her tongue glide over his skin.
Arms tightened around her. Jack’s hand strayed lower, playing just at the waist of her T-shirt, as if he wanted to rip it off of her. She wanted that, too, but wasn’t brave enough to say it. “Thought you wanted to keep things above the belt tonight,” Jack murmured. “Because you are definitely heading south of mine.”
She chuckled, the thrill of anticipation racing through her body, mingling with arousal. “I was just thinking . . . maybe you help me with this virginity thing after all?”
He went still against her.
Uh-oh.
Jack sat up, and Layla did, too, feeling awkward and somewhat foolish. Before she could say anything, he reached out and took her hand in his. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this tonight because you need to keep me or some nonsense like that.”
“What? No—”
“You’ve had a hell of a day. A hell of a week, actually. Both of us have. And I don’t mind going as slow as you need to, Layla. I don’t want you to rush anything on my account.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, grinning. “I’m in it for the long haul.”
Layla shook her head. “I’m not doing this because of anything other than the fact that I like looking at you.” She reached out and put her hand on his chest, tracing her fingers down the hard slabs of muscle. “I like touching you.” She glanced up at him, biting her lip. “And I like kissing you. And being here next to you makes me want more of all of it.”
Jack’s eyes seemed to grow darker. He groaned and then pulled Layla against him. Before she could say anything else, he was kissing her, his mouth hot on hers. It was everything Layla wanted, and she sighed with utter pleasure. She shifted on the bed, crawling toward him until they were wrapped around each other, mouths connected and bodies touching.
He shifted his weight and then Layla was underneath him on the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. It felt good to have him over her, the pressure of his body a new experience and one she liked so, so much. It didn’t feel crushing; it just added to her pleasure.
“Love you,” he murmured between kisses. “Want you. Want you so badly.”
“I want you, too, Jack,” Layla breathed.
“I can give you pleasure,” he continued, mouth hot on hers as he devoured her. “But I didn’t bring condoms. I meant it when I said I wasn’t gonna pressure you. We can make tonight all about you.”
She smiled at his offer and kissed him again, letting her tongue play against the seam of his mouth before drawing away. “Jack, when I said I want you, I mean I want all of you. I’m fine with no condoms. In fact, I’m already on the pill.”
“You are?”
She nodded. “It helps with hormones and making my period regular, which might be a little too much information, but yes. I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen.”
He kissed her fiercely, sucking on her lower lip so hard that she trembled. “How is it that you’re telling me about your period and it’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my life?”
“Because I’m telling you I want you inside me?”
“That’ll do it.” Jack’s mouth slanted over hers again, and then she was lost in the feel of his mouth, the rasp of his beard stubble against her softer skin. His tongue was hard and demanding, as if he was realizing that she wanted this just as much as he did, and so he was going to take them to another level. Layla loved it, loved the way he branded her with a kiss, loved that she could taste just how much he wanted her. The heat that had been curling in her body was threatening to turn into an inferno, but she loved it.
And she wanted so much more.
“Tell me what you want,” Layla whispered between kisses, nipping at his upper lip. He really did have the most unfair mouth, full lips just perfect for biting. “Because if you want to wait—”
He groaned against her. “God, no. I’ve had blue balls since the day of the auction. If you’re ready, I am more than ready, baby.”
She chuckled, feeling a heady sense of power at his words. He wanted her that badly? Had wanted her that badly all this time? It was crazy to think that awkward accountant Layla Schmidt could do that to a man that exuded so much raw sensuality that it took her breath away. It was a little amazing . . . and it made her bolder.
She took one of his hands and pressed it to her breast. “I want you, Jack. I want this. I want all of this. I want us.”
His mouth was fierce on hers. “I want us, too.” His thumb moved over her nipple, rubbing in that familiar way that drove her absolutely crazy and felt so, so good. “You’re not wearing a bra, sweetheart. I can feel your nipple through your shirt. Were you planning on making a move on me this entire time?” He gave her nipple a tiny pinch, just enough to sting and make her pulse deep between her thighs.
Her breath caught at the little shock wave of sensation. “M-maybe. Is that so bad that I want you?”
“Not bad at all. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He punctuated each word with a fierce little kiss. “I’m going to make you come so hard.”
“I know.” Oh, she knew. If this was anything like that glorious Saturday afternoon when he’d made her feel so good, he was going to make her come until she saw stars, and she couldn’t wait.
Jack’s tongue was hot and insistent as he licked at the seam of her mouth. She moaned, wanting more of that insistent push from him, more of the sweep of his seeking tongue into her mouth, more of everything. His fingers grazed her nipple again and she ached so badly that it coiled in her belly and made her feel hollow in places she’d never felt hollow before.
It was the best of feelings, and she wanted more.
“My pretty Layla,” he murmured, lightly nipping at her lower lip before giving her another deep, claiming kiss. “Been dreaming about touching you again for days. One time is not enough. It’s never going to be enough. I’m going to need to keep my hands all over you until I’m old and gray.”
She whimpered as his mouth moved to her throat, kissing downward. His hand cupped the entirety of her breast and it was so warm, so heavy. It felt so right, too.
“I love touching you,” Jack continued, seducing h
er with words as much as he was with his touch. “I love the way you react. Love the way you push into my hand when I caress you. Love those little noises you make. I can’t stop thinking about how you looked when you came. I want to see that again. Want to see you lose yourself in my arms when I’m deep inside you.”
Could she orgasm from words alone? Because he was making her so hot and achy. “Jack,” she panted. “More.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you more.” He buried his face against the curve of her throat and sucked on her skin, until she was positive that she was going to have a mark there, branding her as his. He lifted his head and licked the spot, then continued to move lower, kissing her through the thin fabric of her shirt.
He sucked on her skin at the collar of her shirt, one big hand kneading her breast. “Want to take this off?”
Oh god, did she ever. Layla nodded jerkily, squirming under him in a silent indication that she wanted to sit up. He didn’t let her, though. He kept looming over her, kissing, and his hand snaked to the hem of her shirt and he began to pull it up. She wriggled, helping along, until her breasts were bared to him.
Jack paused, gazing down at them, and groaned. “Look at how pretty you are.”
She felt a little silly, with her old sleep shirt hiked around her neck and her boobs hanging out, but when Jack lowered his head and began to kiss the valley between her breasts, she forgot all about feeling silly and gave herself over to the pleasure of it. Her hands threaded in his short hair as he kissed a pattern over her skin, his mouth light and flirty against her flesh. Layla wanted him to go right for her sensitive nipples, but he seemed determined to draw the sensations out, to tease her until she was aching and needy. Which, really, wasn’t all that hard to do. She was practically panting and steering his head the moment he moved closer to her left breast.
The Bachelor Cowboy Page 23
