by Wendy Rosnau
That look said it all. They’d been dancing all night—side-stepping each other in the kitchen, trying to clean up the table and dirty dishes without touching each other. She'd caught him staring at her more than once, and he'd caught her doing the same.
The truth was, he wanted to get it on with her and she knew it. And just maybe she wanted to get it on with him, too. He had mixed emotions about that. She was the boss's daughter, and for both their sakes he'd hoped that his hard-on disgusted her. That if he got too close, she'd drive the point home with her knee—sometimes what a man needed most was a direct blow to the area that was causing him the most trouble and overriding his good judgment. And right now what he wanted most was to get his hands underneath that loose-fitting dress.
"You're staring, Jack—"
"And liking what I see."
She hung the shears on a hook, then lifted the plant off the table and put it back in its place. "I think you should go watch TV or, better yet, pack up your stuff and—"
"You know I can't do that."
She leaned against the table, resting her hands on either side of her hips. She gave him a brazen shakedown that took in all of him, her eyes unblinking when they settled on his crotch.
"That's right, Sis. I'm wearing my feelings tonight. It's not news, though, is it?"
Her mouth parted and she exhaled a breathy sigh. "No, it's not news."
Jackson took one step into the greenhouse. "It looks as if I'm not the only one displaying his feelings tonight. The twins are putting on quite a show."
"You think it's because of you?"
"You saying different? Saying it's the chilly night air? Could be. It's cool tonight." He took another step toward her. "It would be for the best if that was the case. Say it, Sis. Tell me it's the night air and I'll head for the shower. That way we'll save ourselves from making a serious mistake."
"And that's what it would be? A mistake?"
"Pretty much."
She drew her lower lip into her mouth and closed her eyes. She was doing battle with the situation, weighing the mistake.
Jackson swore, then took the last three steps. She had to have heard him, had to have felt his heat—the temperature in the greenhouse had tripled in a minute's time. But she didn't open her eyes, didn't stop sucking on her lower lip.
He covered her hands where they gripped the edge of the table on either side of her and leaned in.
"Jack…"
He dipped his head and boldly inhaled her special scent, deliberately brushing his cheek against hers. "I like how you smell." He gently pushed her head back by hooking his nose beneath her chin. Her head fell back, offering him her throat. Jackson felt like attacking her, moving in fast and taking everything all at once. But he also wanted to savor the moment, to listen and watch her reaction to everything he did to her.
He brushed his lips over her neck where her pulse beat wildly, then trailed kisses to her collarbone. He felt her shudder and it energized him. Slowly he moved back up her neck, kissing an inch at a time. When he reached her ear, he changed course and outlined her delicate jaw with more of the same.
"Jack," she said again, her voice shaky.
"How 'bout it, Sis? We gonna get to know each other better? Or are you gonna put me in my place pretty quick before it's too late?"
He stepped back and waited for her eyes to open. When they blinked open and her head moved back to look at him, she said, "And if I was going to put you in your place, Jack, how would I do that?"
"Your knee moving upward oughta take care of it."
"And if I decided we should get to know each other better?"
He studied her face, her sultry gray eyes. "Either way, it's your move."
"Let my hands go, Jack."
Jackson released her hands, unsure what was going to come next. Likely her knee, hard and fast. Way to go, fool, he chastised himself. Give her the ammo, then just stand there and let her fire away.
He waited, braced himself the best he could for a frontal attack, only it came from a different direction. Instead of bringing her knee up, she straightened and stepped around him. She circled him twice, stopping behind him the second time.
"What are you doing, Sis?"
"Moving. Isn't that what you said I should do, make my move?" She came around him once more, and this time she was smiling. "I don't think I've ever seen you sweat, Jack. You hot?"
"You know I'm burning up."
"I've been watching you for days, Jack. Looking you over from all angles."
"That makes two of us."
"Yes, I know."
"And?"
"And I really do like looking at you, Jack."
"Me, I'm partial to touching. Maybe we can incorporate the two."
"Maybe."
She circled him once more, and she was still smiling when she landed in front of him again. Unable to keep up the verbal game without getting his hands in on the action, Jackson clasped her around the waist, lifted her off her feet and set her on the end of the worktable. Face-to-face, his hands settled on her thighs. Slowly, his fingers turned inward and spread her legs wide. He stepped into the open vee a moment later. "This is a change," he said huskily. "Me between your legs instead of the other way around."
Their eyes locked.
Time lagged.
She leaned forward and settled her hands on his chest, stared at his mouth. "In case you're wondering, Jack, I'm making my move. Is it too subtle?"
He grinned, his arms sliding around her, one hand going high, the other low. The high one popped the clip that held her hair off her neck, and her shiny black hair tumbled around her face. The low hand urged her hips forward slightly so her open thighs brushed his. Then he was kissing her, eating at her mouth, licking her lips, nipping her chin. He heard her sigh, felt her shiver. He took her sweet breath into his mouth and then gave it back to her in an even hotter kiss.
Her hands were no longer flat on his chest, but working open the buttons on his shirt. He stopped kissing her long enough to pull his shirt free of his jeans, then watched as her hands shoved the edges wide.
She closed her eyes as her fingers threaded through the hair on his chest. She moaned softly, her tiny fingers flexing and stroking, as if touching him had been some kind of long-awaited hungry need she'd been wrestling with in private. The idea undid him. He'd never experienced anything like the feelings that were suddenly storming his insides.
He leaned forward and kissed her, peeled her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to her waist. "Hell, Sis," he groaned, then dipped his head and kissed the swell of each ripe naked breast.
"Jack…"
In short order, his hands followed his mouth, adoring her firm, hot flesh, plucking at her nipples with his fingers and stroking the underside of each breast. He moved the heels of his hands along her rib cage and curved his fingers around her fullness. Drawing her breasts together, he dropped his head and sank his face into her sweet flesh. "Smother me, please," he breathed into her deep cleavage, enjoying the sweet scent of her and the sound of her moaning in pleasure. In answer, he used his tongue and teeth to drive her further over the edge—licked and nipped and suckled until each rosy nipple was a solid stone.
She arched her back in silent approval, sending a surge of hungry heat straight into Jackson's groin. His hands found the hem of her dress and he slid it up her thighs, slipped his fingers underneath.
She lay back on the table, her body anxious, her eyes closed. He shoved up her dress, exposed her slender thighs and virgin-white panties. His hands slid beneath her, rewarded with the feel of warm flesh. The knowledge made him groan as he cupped her bare bottom and lowered his mouth to her quivering flat stomach. His hot breath moved over her as his lips adored her. He circled her navel, then dipped his tongue inside.
Her hips lifted, and she whimpered. In answer, he moved his mouth lower and kissed her mons through her tiny thong. The gesture had her crying out and lifting her hips off the table. "Easy, baby," Jackson w
hispered, dropping his head to taste more of her.
She was moaning and panting when his cell phone rang. The crazy musical sound it made bounced off the walls of the greenhouse like a fire alarm. He released her and straightened, his gaze locking on her passion-glazed eyes, then on her heaving breasts.
The phone set off again. He swore, then reached into his pocket and retrieved it. As he continued to stare at her, he flipped it open, checked his own breathing, then said, "Ward here."
"I thought you were going to e-mail me today."
Clide. Jackson watched Sunni draw her lower lip into her mouth, her cheeks as rosy as her aroused taut nipples.
"The day's not over yet."
"Damn close. I'm supposed to be asleep within the hour. That nurse I've got carries a pitchfork, along with her stethoscope. I swear she works for the devil. If I'm not asleep in twenty minutes, she'll be back in here to raise some hell."
"Nothing news-breaking to report. Go to sleep and I'll e-mail you in the morning." Jackson still hadn't broken eye contact with Sunni. She hadn't moved, not an inch, her dress still bunched at her waist, the dark curls between her thighs visible beneath her white panties.
"So, where you at? My baby girl safe from the wolves tonight? You doing your job protecting her from those unconscionable bastards? You ain't laying down on the job, are you?"
Clide's words struck Jackson between the eyes, then kicked him in the gut. Then in the ass. He reacted by backing up and turning his back on Sunni. He said, "She's fine, Chief. Safe from the wolves."
"How's Mac doing? Is he worth feeding, or will you be looking for a new partner once you get back?"
"He's coming around."
"Hell, I think I hear that she-devil with the pitchfork coming. Don't forget to e-mail me in the morning."
When the phone went dead, Jackson slid it back in his pocket, then turned to find Sunni standing, her dress back on her shoulders and her thighs covered.
"My father?"
Jackson nodded. "Listen, that call was fate giving us both a reality check. Your father's timing—"
"Stinks."
Jackson swore, then shot a hand through his hair. "I'm here to clean up a mess, not make an even bigger one."
She said nothing, just stared at him.
"Come on, Sis. Help me out here." He jammed his hands in his pockets in case he lost his head and tried to touch her again.
Her nose hiked a notch and her pretty gray eyes narrowed. "News flash, Jack. If you would have had the balls to put me back on that table you would have found out that I'm a no-mess, no-strings, no-promises kind of girl. And you would have had the ride of your life. A free ride."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I wouldn't have expected anything in the morning."
Her confession surprised him. He hadn't expected it, or considered that maybe all she had wanted tonight was some good old-fashioned hot sex.
I'm a no-mess, no-strings, no-promises kind of girl.
Her words should have made him feel relieved. Most men liked no strings, and got tongued-tied making promises.
The ride of your life. A free ride.
No man in his right mind would turn down a free ride, especially a free ride from Sunni Blais. But he was going to turn it down, because for the first time in his life he wanted more from a woman than just hot sex—more from Sunni Blais.
"I'm going to take a cold shower and clear my head. And since your back is on the mend, I'll make a bed on the sofa. Good night."
* * *
The lavender tile beneath her bare feet felt cool, the humid air warm on her shoulders. Sunni closed the bathroom door behind her and stepped farther into the room, her gaze settling on the shower where the tangled lovers etched on glass clung to each other. But she was no longer interested in phantom lovers and fairy-tale dreams. She wanted a real lover—no, not any lover, she wanted the man standing naked beneath the pulsing shower spray.
She wanted Jack.
His eyes were closed, the shower spray bouncing off his chest and naked thighs—off his hips and marvelous butt. Sliding down his long, rock-hard hairy legs.
She watched him raise his arms and send his dark stubborn hair away from his forehead. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and the veins stood out. She licked her lips as several rivulets raced down his flat stomach and into the nest of dark hair surrounding his perfect "package."
He hadn't cooled off much from his aroused state in the greenhouse. No, not much…
Sunni was in the process of shrugging her dress off one shoulder when he opened his eyes. Her hand froze on the silk clinging to her breasts as his green eyes nailed her where she stood. She hesitated only a second, then shoved the dress to her waist, past her slender hips. The silk pooled at her feet, and she stood in her white thong and nothing else.
A long minute ticked by, then the shower door opened, Jackson's long, hairy arm splayed along its width. It was clearly an invitation, and Sunni didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until that fact had been confirmed.
Without a word, three steps brought her to the door. His gaze shifted to her naked breasts, and to break the tension, she said as she stepped inside the shower, "The answer is yes, Jack, it's all me. No implants or hormones." Her gaze traveled to that area of him that set him apart from the general male population in a big way. "How about you? Taking hormone shots?"
Boldly he followed her interest to gaze at himself. "What you see is the real deal, Sis. That, and a little more, if you can handle it."
"Handling it would be my pleasure, Jack."
His gaze found hers, and without breaking it, Sunni pulled the door closed behind her. When he just stood there staring, she stepped forward, backed him up and pressed herself against the full length of him. "What is it, Jack? Am I too much, too fast? Or are you all show and no action?"
Baiting him was dangerous, but Sunni wanted his hands on her, the way they had been on her in the greenhouse—all over every inch of her.
"Do you know what you're asking for?"
"Do I look confused?" Sunni opened her hand to allow him to see what she held before placing the small square package in the tiled cove built into the shower wall.
He still hadn't touched her, hadn't raised his arms. Sunni rubbed her breasts over his hard stomach, and when she heard him moan, she stepped back and licked water beads off his nipples, fueling the fire.
"Turn me down, Jack," she taunted. "Send the boss's daughter away."
She moved her hands to his hips, then bent her knees to trail kisses down the center of his chest as she had imagined doing in her dreams for the past two nights.
Around his navel.
Lower.
He made a guttural moan a moment later, his hands moving forward and his fingers tangling in her wet hair to hold her head.
"Look up, Jack," Sunni instructed, then opened her mouth to taste him.
"Hell, Sis," he moaned as she began to torture him. "What am I going to do with you?"
"What do you want to do with me, Jack?" Her hands touched him. Stroked him. Her mouth adored him.
"Everything. Every damn thing," he groaned.
Sunni remembered how he had looked at her standing in the doorway of the greenhouse. Needing to see that same hunger in his eyes now, she backed off and looked at the ceiling mirror. Finding his gaze, she said, "Then what are you waiting for? I'm on my knees already, Jack, but if you'd like to hear me beg—"
"What I'd like—" his arms suddenly captured her waist and dragged her up his body "—is to taste every inch of you."
Sunni shivered as he walked her backward into the water spray. There, he kissed her with enough hungry heat to knock the air out of her lungs. Dizzy, she clung to him as his hands moved possessively over her slick body. When his lips followed his hands and he tasted her breasts, Sunni arched for him, eager to feel his mouth on her flesh.
Suddenly he was turning her around and rubbing himself against her bottom. His arms curled around her, hi
s hands cupping her breasts as he nipped at her neck and gyrated his hips. Then he was on his knees, kissing her bottom, peeling her panties off her hips and sliding them down her legs.
"Face me, Sis."
When she turned, he was standing again. He kissed her once more, then reached for her wrists and raised her arms over her head to secure her hands around the gold fixture. As he bent his knees and squatted, Sunni knew what was coming next, and she gripped the fixture to keep her balance.
The sound of the water spray faded as her mind and every nerve ending in her body became attuned to Jack's lips and tongue on her flesh. The heat from his mouth and the roughness of his hands drove her crazy. Her knees grew weak and her body shook. She knew she was going to come apart soon.
"Jack…"
He must have heard the need that was choking her. The torture eased up, and she opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her. His hand snatched the little square package off the shelf, and she watched as he slipped the condom on. His gaze found hers a moment later. "You look like you need rescuing, Sis. Lucky for you there's a cop close by."
He flashed her a wolf's grin as he reached up and took her hands off the shower fixture and placed them around his neck. Lifting her, he urged her to wrap her legs around him. His eyes were bright and watchful as he slid halfway inside her. Sunni sucked in her breath, but she didn't close her eyes. She wanted to see his face, watch and remember.
"You all right?"
He didn't move deeper, and she knew why. Without warning, she snatched his lower lip and bit down hard enough to get his attention, but not hard enough to cause him pain. When she let go, she said, "No holding back, Jack. I know I'm tight. And I know you know what that means."
He didn't say anything for several seconds. Then he smiled. "Hungry, Sis?"
"That's right, Jack. I'll take everything that's on the menu … please."
* * *
Chapter 10
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"I'm not taking Mac to work with me. So stop harping on the subject."
Jackson tossed another dish in the dishwasher. "I have some things to check out today. I don't have a choice."
