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A heavy heat settles at the base of my belly when I follow his gaze to the door, suddenly wondering why I shut it.
“Why did you kiss me?” When I look back at him, my voice comes out breathless.
The corners of his mouth dip as he considers how to answer, his hands slowly sliding up to cup my ass.
I should swat them away and walk out that door.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
No matter how much my brain is screaming run, my body is perfectly content being a fly stuck in Jackson’s web. He touches me unapologetically with no hesitation. His hands are skilled and steady as he reaches up further, his fingers sliding under my shirt to trace my lower back.
My entire spine tingles.
Letting out a breath of laughter, he says “Why did I kiss you?”
My breath is caught in my throat, but I manage a faint nod.
He answers me in a voice that comes out like a groan. “Margot,” he says, and my knees threaten to buckle. His hands move to my hips like he’s exploring my every curve, and in a low voice, he says, “If you haven’t realized I want you by now, I’m not sure how to help you.”
He wants me? The thought alone has my head spinning. When his hands slip fully under my shirt, holding my waist, my lungs stop working. His hands run over my stomach and up the sides. It’s too much, but at the same time, not enough.
He says he’s not sure how to help me, but I have a feeling he knows exactly how to help me. His thumb dips under my bra, grazing the sensitive skin under my left breast, and I fight the urge to clench my thighs together.
I want him. I don’t know how much or how little, but right now, I want him to close the space between us. I need him to.
Somehow, between shallow breaths, I say, “Try.”
His head snaps up, his pupils blown. Without hesitation, he pulls me onto his lap in one swift movement. My knees hit the mattress on either side of him, and I gasp. Taking full advantage of my open mouth, Jackson’s lips crash into mine. Warmth floods my entire body as he expertly claims my mouth with his tongue like it’s been his from the start.
Maybe this was inevitable. That’s how this feels. Whatever is happening between Jackson and me feels like it couldn’t have been stopped. It feels like something outside of our control. Neither of us can fight the desperate need building—at least I know I can’t.
My hands are in his hair as I move my mouth over his, and when I slip my tongue between his lips, his hands grip me tighter, pulling me in deeper like he can’t get enough. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this—like I’m the air he needs to breathe.
My hips roll, pressing into him and craving friction. I feel him hard beneath me, and the sound that escapes his throat only makes me grind against him again.
How does he feel so good?
Everything happens so fast, neither of us having the patience to take it slow. He pulls my shirt up and over my head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. I unbutton his jeans, pulling them down enough to reveal black boxer briefs stretching tightly over him.
Effortlessly, he flips us so he’s holding himself over me, and for a moment, I’m brought back to Thanksgiving night. I’m brought back to what it felt like to want to kiss him and feeling like I couldn’t. The memory fades as soon as he presses his hips against me, summoning me back to the present, and my back arches.
I grasp at his shirt, pulling it up, and just like the night of his show, the toned shape of him takes me by surprise. He reaches behind his neck with one hand, pulling his shirt off the rest of the way and his jeans follow shortly after.
Jackson leans over me in just his boxer briefs, and a distinct outline revealing his size is enough to make me swallow hard. His gaze slowly rakes down my body, his hand following close behind. When his feather-light fingertips run over my black lace bra, my head falls back, silently begging him to touch me more. His fingers dip lower, grazing over my bare stomach until they hook into the front waistband of my jeans, and he yanks me toward him.
“These need to go,” he says as he unbuttons my pants. I nod, more than agreeing, and work to shimmy my jeans down.
Then there’s only one layer left. His mouth finds my neck, his hands cupping my ass, pulling a soft moan from my lips.
“Tell me you want this,” he says as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin below my ear. I reach for him, palming him outside his briefs, but even though he sucks in a breath, he shakes his head. Moving his hand to cup my face, he buries his hips against mine, making me gasp. “No.” His voice comes out raspy but unwavering. “Say it.”
My heart pounds in my chest with our bodies flush together. He holds my gaze for an excruciating moment before leaning in close, his lips brushing against my ear. In a husky whisper, he groans, “Come on, Red. Put me out of my misery.” My entire body tenses at the name, and I feel his lips pull into a smile against my skin. “What?” he croons. “Don’t want me to call you that?”
Even with the flicker of annoyance, my body is begging for him. I don’t know how he can make me want to storm out of here one moment and lose myself in him the next.
“You can call me anything you want,” I say through heated breaths. “Just don’t call me yours.”
