Alexi stood at the head of the table and patted her stomach. “I have an announcement to make.”
“Little late for confessions, Lexi,” James called out.
“Looks like Jesse has made you a walking announcement,” Jared added.
Laughter followed the remarks and Alexi joined the cheer.
“She looks good,” Nan said to Jackson. He sat in the lounge chair next to her with his long legs stretched out and his arm across the back of her seat.
Jackson brushed his thumb against the bare skin of her arm. “When I talked to her this morning, she said she was feeling a lot better.”
Nan snuggled into his embrace. Every nerve in her body crackled with awareness, and she had to fight the whole evening long for coherency.
Any single woman would have a hard time staying sane around the Weldon brothers. They were all raven hair, hot-eyed temptation in boots. And they left no doubt the devil had made it to Georgia and spawned four men guaranteed to lead a woman astray.
Nan couldn’t get his passion out of her mind. Pretending for three months that he didn’t exist anywhere but in her fantasies hadn’t helped. So maybe making love would. Maybe once she knew his touch completely, then she could get on with her life—a been there, done that, sort of thing. So why did she feel that she wasn’t just throwing caution to the wind? Why did she feel as if she were blasting caution all the way to outer space?
Alexi clapped her hands to quiet the laughter and the jokes to finish her announcement. “John and Emma, and Dad,” she said getting the attention of her in-laws and her father. “Jesse and I found out today that you’re going to have a grandson.”
Nan saw Jackson’s mom and dad smile and hug. By Alexi’s father’s grin and puffed chest, you’d think he was the one having the baby. The sense of family between the Weldon’s went straight to Nan’s heart. She had no family, no parents. She’d have no moments like these and it hurt.
Alexi continued. “Next, Jesse and I would like for Jackson and Nan to be the baby’s Godparents.”
Nan sat up in surprise, a rush of joy flooding her heart. She and Alexi were close friends, but that Alexi would entrust her with so dear a responsibility, touched Nan’s heart. She heard a moan of pain next to her and looked at Jackson. She couldn’t tell exactly what he thought about being a Godparent, but it didn’t look good. He had his face buried into the palms of his hands and he was rubbing his eyes.
Nan suddenly realized everyone was waiting for her to respond. She stood, sort of blocking Jackson from the eyes of the group. “I’m honored. I only hope that I’ll be as good a Godparent to Jesse junior as Alexi and Jesse are friends to me.”
“Thank you,” Jackson said as he stood up next to her. His voice was gruff and filled with tension. Once the crowd moved their attention back to Alexi and Jesse, Nan brushed her hand through Jackson’s jet-black hair. What about being a godparent caused him anguish? “Are you okay?”
Her caring touch seemed to surprise him. He caught her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips. The need in his eyes went way beyond the physical. Nan saw into his soul and she saw a man in pain.
He drew a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s dance, sugar.”
As he pulled her into his arms and she felt the beat of his heart against her cheek. She knew then, she would spend the weekend with him. She had to have answers to her questions and a weekend of just sex, might help her get him out of her mind. Sort of like a hair of the dog that bit her type thing.
A slow song played softly, and she melted into his embrace. His touch held as much magic and warmth as the moonlit summer night. He pulled her close to his hard muscle and everything inside of her reached out to him. She had no idea how long they swayed or if the music changed.
“Let’s go,” Jackson whispered in her ear.
“Where?”
“To dance. I know a better place and a better song.”
From the smooth, deep sexy rumble of his voice, Nan had no doubt that the time had come to go with Jackson to his cabin. She followed him, but kept in the background as they said good night. She felt a bit odd, though at thirty it shouldn’t bother her that others knew she was leaving the party with Jackson. When they stopped to see Jesse and Alexi, Nan could tell they were both worried about Jackson.
“We need to talk,” Jesse said to Jackson. Nan watched the men’s intense blue gazes measure each other.
Alexi stepped forward, her brow creased and a troubled depth lay in her eyes. She hugged Jackson. “We didn’t mean to upset you. We should have thought to ask you in private.”
Jackson patted Alexi to comfort her, but stepped back from her after a short hug. “You surprised me. I’ll need to think about it. I can’t promise anything,” he said to Alexi and then turned to Jesse. “I don’t have any more to say.”
“We still need to talk. I’ll call you later.”
“Later then.” Jackson took Nan’s hand. She quickly leaned over and gave Alexi a hug.
“Call me,” Alexi whispered and Nan nodded.
Jackson led the way from the party out into the darkened perimeter. Nan searched her mind for the best way to ask him what lay behind his dark moments. “Jack, why—”
“Shh. I’ve been aching to do this all night, all week.” They’d reached the driveway. He pulled her up against his body and lowered his lips to hers, effectively staving off any questions. He kissed her thoroughly with a needy, tender roughness that had her desire burning. She panted for air by the time he ended the kiss as a shivery with anticipation tingled and burned through her erogenous zones like a flash fire.
“Follow me, sugar.” He released her and walked to his Harley, looking way too calm for her peace of mind. He seated himself and gave her a questioning look. She hadn’t moved.
“You coming?”
Jackson clearly thought she was having second thoughts. Trouble was she was having second, third, and fourth thoughts about making love to him on his motorcycle. She couldn’t wait to get him where she wanted him and if she didn’t hurry she was going to strip him naked right there in his parent’s yard. Smiling, she turned around, and walked to her car, making very sure she added enough hip action to her stride to cause the hem of her skirt to bounce.
As she followed him, she realized that for the first time in her life she was headed down a road that she had no idea where it would end, but she was having fun.
* * *
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a small cabin. Jackson reached her car and opened her door before she could. A grin tugged her lips. He obviously wasn't giving her any room to change her mind and kept brushing tantalizing circles on her hip as he walked her to his door.
“I didn’t realize that you live so close to your parents.”
“Actually, it’s a cabin on the backside of the farm. I like it here, very private, very secluded. Besides my parents, the nearest neighbor is a mile or so away.” They walked up onto the quaint little porch and Jackson unlocked the door. “Wait here,” he said, then disappeared inside, shutting the door.
Nan blinked in surprise. She expected Jackson to be tearing her clothes off by now, just as she wanted to attack him. Instead, she was left standing alone on his porch. After what seemed like an eternity, but had probably only been a minute, Jackson came back and opened the door.
“Okay, you can come in now.” He pushed the door wider.
The furnishings were sparse and it appeared to be a one room deal with a four poster bed in one corner and a small refrigerator, microwave, and hot plate in the other, but that wasn’t what drew her attention. About the room there were dozens of lit candles emitting a spicy aroma. A bottle of champagne sat on ice in what looked like an old cow milking bucket, and spread out on the little dinette table were small dishes of cheese, crackers, whipped cream and strawberries. She blinked away threatening tears. He’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to plan their evening, and the romantic simplicity of his gesture reached deep inside of her, touching
her heart. “This is wonderful,” she said, her voice husky with emotion.
“No, you’re wonderful.” He flipped the power button on his boom box and soft, slow music filled the small room. “Come here, Nan.”
Nan liked Jackson’s wonderful a whole lot more than Brad’s pleasant. She dropped her purse and walked into Jackson’s arms. For a long moment he hugged her tight and then he began to sway and step to the music. She released a sigh of pure pleasure. He felt so, so good.
His voice was low at first then grew to a deep sexy timbre as he sang to her, dancing intimately beneath the flicker of candlelight. He stepped true to the beat of the song. Her step lagged a bit as she relaxed into him, but that seemed to be okay with him. He just molded himself to her, and kept on dancing, and the longer they swayed, adjusting to each other, the more in tune they moved.
When they’d dated before, their relationship had been casual and looking back on it, Nan had to admit almost impersonal. There’d been no sticky bun breakfast, motorcycle rides, or romantic candlelight. His band had been doing a six-week stint at a local bar and she’d gone to see him sing. They’d done a movie or two, ate dinner a few times, and spent a lot of time kissing. Jackson had been angling to get horizontal and she’d been set on something more than heating up the sheets. Between his night schedule and her day one, there’d been little time.
So what made the difference this time? Why was she here, about to make lo—have sex with him? They weren’t officially dating. Jackson was still angling for the horizontal and as far as she could tell his hot sheets were never going to lead to a warm home and hearth.
Was it because no matter what she’d done she hadn’t been able to get the man out of her mind? Or was he different? Did she see a vulnerability to him she hadn’t seen before? She supposed she was here because of a combination of those things and because she had to have an answer to all of the questions Jackson provoked. And yes, the fantasies were part of it, too. He stirred something deep within her she hadn’t known existed, a part of herself she was almost afraid to face.
The music changed and his voice deepened. Her heart started to beat faster as her body became more and more aware of his heated muscles and musky scent. It was the song he’d sung at the hospital benefit. As he had before, he changed the words. “Lady, I want you. Lady, I need you. You’re the only one I care enough to dream about.”
Nan shut her eyes and drew in some air. If he only knew how much he had filled her dreams. He kissed her next, his lips warm, his breath intoxicating. Tenderly he massaged, working his hands up to the back of her neck and inside the collar of her blouse. Her blood raced until stole all of her thoughts and all of her doubts away. For better or for worse, whether this would be a mistake or not, she couldn’t fight her attraction to this man any longer. Be it a day, a week, or a month, she had to have an answer to what he made her feel.
The liberation to enjoy the moment hit her blood stream like a heady aphrodisiac. She kissed him, threaded her fingers through his silky hair, and pressed her body close to his. His fingers trailed from her nape to the pulse pounding in her throat, then dipped lower. She arched to him and he opened the first two buttons of her blouse. His mouth followed his fingers, and his tongue tantalized her skin all the way to the front clasp of her black bra.
“You’re beautiful,” he said cupping her breasts through the cotton of her shirt and bra. “So hot, so soft, and smooth.”
She moaned. Never in her life had she felt so sexy and free. He stepped back, his demanding gaze met hers, and he sang another verse, again using his own words. “Lately I've been thinking. Lately, I've been hoping that you'll share with me everything you’ve got to give.”
Deep inside her the need to meet his demand on an equal level stirred. Not only did she want to be seduced, but she wanted to do the seducing, too. She released her hold on his shoulders and without moving her gaze from his, finished unbuttoning her blouse, letting it slide off her shoulders to the floor. She then did the same to his shirt, touching his chest, his nipples, running her finger down the trailing line of soft black hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. She reveled in the play of candlelight on his smooth sun-darkened skin, kissing and licking wherever she could.
He placed her hand over his erection. “Lady I need ya. Lady I'm dying. Can’t you see what you’re doing to me?”
“Me too,” she said softly. Taking his hand she placed it on the bare skin of her thigh, and then guided him up under her skirt to settle over the heat of her sex. Her action seemed to snap his control. He groaned and time became a whirlwind.
He quickly removed her skirt and bra, trailing tiny kisses over her shoulders, leaving little love bites on her waist. When she stood in nothing but her heels and her black lace underwear, he backed away from her, circled her, and then moved toward her like a hungry lion about to devour. “You’re beautiful, and so damn sexy,” he growled.
She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Your jeans,” she whispered. “Take them off.”
First went the boots, then the jeans, leaving only his briefs.
“Everything,” she said as he started her way. “Take it all off.”
He stopped a second, raised his brow at the insistence in her voice then followed her instructions. When he finished, she moved, walking around him. From the broad curve of his shoulders to the narrow flare of his hips, he was all man, hard muscle, jutting erection. He was elemental male and beautiful. She moved up behind him and pressed herself to him, snaking her hands around to cup and stroke his arousal.
He groaned, leaning back into her and rocking his erection in her hands. “Are you trying to kill me?”
She laved the back of his ear with her tongue and whispered, “Maybe I want you. Maybe I need you. Maybe you’re the only one who can satisfy me.”
“Maybe?” he growled. He shot out of her teasing embrace and whipped around. The next instant he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up. In four steps he crossed the room and tossed her on the bed, then he pinned her to the soft mattress with his hard body.
“Maybe?” he asked again just before his mouth found her nipple and he began to suck and tease while his hand located her other breast, massaging it to a throbbing peak. Then he devoured her. There was no other word for it. She couldn’t think, all she could do was feel.
He soothingly laved each nipple with his tongue only to pluck it to an aching point with his fingers again and again. He had her writhing with need, arching up from the bed with her desperation to have him inside her before he moved lower. Her exquisite torture had only just begun.
He covered her lace panties with puffs of hot breath, making her feel his heat, making her anticipate his touch. Then he turned her over and maddeningly moved back up to the nape of her neck. Little love bites sizzled down her spine and pooled into a hot, wet, burning heat between her legs. She was on fire and he was the only man who could save her.
She wiggled against him, her face nuzzling the mattress, even as her hand dug desperately into the sheets. “Jack, now,” she called to him, needing him inside her.
“Maybe?” he asked, softly, infuriatingly and started to knead her buttocks.
Paybacks were both heaven and hell.
“Ever since I saw you up against my truck in this,” he slid his finger underneath her underwear. “I’ve been burning like a man on fire.”
Nan jolted with pleasure, her hips lifting off the bed. That was it, she couldn’t take anymore. She flipped over, pushing her underwear off and pulled him down.
Amusement gleamed in his blue eyes. “Maybe?” he asked again.
She sighed. “No maybes about it. Make love to me, Jack.”
“Never thought you’d ask, sugar.” He sat back on his knees, slid on a condom he’d had under his pillow. She welcomed him as he covered her body with his, driving satisfyingly inside her.
Nan arched up to him, and he pushed deeper. He was hot and needy and determined to thrust her to heaven
. She felt as if he went straight to her soul. His hands cupped her breasts, teased her nipples, caressed her everywhere and just when she thought she would shatter from the pleasure, he slid his thumb over her sensitive, needy heart of her sex. Within three strokes she came apart and shuddered against him with the force of her release.
“Keep on riding, baby.” He latched a hand on each side of her hips and drove into her, grunting with sheer sensual pleasure over each stroke. His movements sent her spiraling higher and higher and she cried out from the intensity. He groaned, sounding thoroughly satisfied, and the world was swept away in a series of bright colors. The very core of her being shuddered uncontrollably with pleasure so deep that stars shot before her eyes until she collapsed into a spent pool of quivering flesh.
Neither of them could speak, they could hardly breathe. Jackson curled up behind her, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her temple. She fell into a deep sleep and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she didn’t have to write a single word in her little black book.
* * *
A long time after Nan’s breathing fell into an even rhythm, Jackson lay close to her lush body, threading his fingers through the silky auburn hair strewn across his pillow. The momentary exhaustion of sexual satisfaction had passed and he was already hungry for her again, but it was a nice hunger.
It didn’t surprise him that sex was different with Nan than it had been during his brief sexual encounters since Amy died. Two brief, stolen moments when he’d indulged his physical needs and had hoped drown his pain, but he’d always walked away dissatisfied and guilt-ridden. But things with Nan were different. He wanted her with a fire previously unsurpassed in his life. Something about her drew him, pulled at him, so he just couldn’t walk away.
But it was still just sex. By having her he’d get his want out of his system and they could both go back to their comfort zones. She was a mover in life, a person who’d never be content to drift. Sort of reminded him of what he was like before med school, before the accident.
Always with the memory came the screech of tires and Amy’s horrified cry. A sharp pain wrenched inside of him and he rose from the bed, careful not to wake Nan. He wanted to be alone to wrestle the demons back into the black pit deep inside him. Slipping on jeans, he blew out the candles and stepped out onto the moonlit porch with his guitar.
Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) Page 11
