Bonnie met me halfway as I slipped my hands around her waist and drew her close enough that I could count every single one of her dark eyelashes.
“Yeah, I don’t want to fuck off either,” I confessed roughly.
Before she could even push up onto her toes, I leaned down and brushed her lips with mine. Just a brief touch. A question awaiting an answer. I didn’t want to rush her or misread anysignals. I knew she was hurting and maybe not ready for more than a motorcycle ride and a half-assed rescue.
But as I hovered there beneath an ocean of stars, waiting and hoping as my nose grazed the length of hers, I felt a warm hand slide into the hair at my nape.
Then Bonnie tugged me back down and slotted her lips against mine.
eight
BONNIE
I could feel my heart beating, wild and untamed, inside my chest. But for the first time in a long time, it was in giddy anticipation rather than panic or dread.
My fingers wound through soft strands of dark, windblown hair, and I parted my mouth in welcome.
Jack Ellis was only the second person I’d ever kissed, but when our lips touched, I wasn’t thinking about that or Danny or how I’d never planned on having another first kiss again.
There was only Jack. The warmth of his body in the cool autumn night. The smell of leather and leaves and something dark and tempting. How his hands had snaked beneath the jacket I wore and brought me flush against him.
For once, I wasn’t thinking, only feeling.
The scruff on his jaw was delicious torture. I brought one hand around to cup his rough cheek, reveling in the feel of him beneath my touch. Then I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, giving a small bite to Jack’s lower lip.
His hands slipped beneath his jacket that I still wore, fisting in the back of my shirt, and his own tongue met mine in answer.
Jack was patient. He let me lead, encouraged me to explore. I had a motorcycle-riding bad boy in the palm of my hand, and it made me feel powerful. But more than that, I felt wanted.
Eventually, a warm touch made its way to my lower back, fingertips dancing across my skin, lighting me up. I arched reflexively, bringing my breasts into firmer contact with Jack’s chest. I felt his low groan vibrate everywhere we touched. That, too, made some prideful part of me sit up and preen.
Thoughts did their best to intrude, ready and waiting on the sidelines. I could feel them pressing close, ready to shame me or remind me I’d made vows to someone else. The desperate snarl ofwhat ifandmaybeheld behind fragile glass.
Then one of Jack’s hands dipped low, and those thoughts drifted away like dandelion seeds on the wind. That eager touch coasted toward my backside, then abruptly retreated, as if it had suddenly remembered its manners.
I’d tried the whole polite thing with Jack, and it hadn’t quite taken. I wasn’t sorry for it now.
Without breaking our kiss, I released his jaw and reached around to urge that hand right back down to my ass. Jack allowed it, smoothing over the denim covering me before squeezing, drawing me further against him.
His erection—thick and hot—pressed into my belly, and that did something to me, too. I felt a little wild and a lot pleased, knowing that Jack was hard for me, from a brief make-out session with a good girl under the stars.
Attraction was a funny thing. That I could want so many different parts of this man, and delight in discovering them all. The studious, sarcastic academic in his little round glasses. The leather-wearing white knight who’d ridden to my rescue and given me exactly what I’d needed. The comforting presence in the middle of the night who might as well have been taking my wounded heart and tucking it in tight.
I was overwhelmed by the possibilities and eager for them at the same time. So much newness and desire was exhilarating. I wanted to feel his hand grip my thigh on the back of a motorcycle. I wanted to straddle him in his chair and make him forget all about whatever he’d been reading. I wanted to lie alone in my bed and listen to his deep voice grow rough on the other end of the line, telling me exactly what he’d like to do to me.
A fantasy come to life.
The one right here and now, leaning into my touch.
I traced Jack’s jaw and smoothed my palm down the strong column of his throat. My fingers skated along the ridge of his collarbone over to the rounded tops of his firm shoulders. I realized I wanted to take the same path with my tongue. To touch and be touched. Slowly, deliberately, with an end goal in mind. One I could feel even now, building low in my belly.
The realization had me toning things down, gentling my kisses, steadying my shaky control. Jack matched my pace without complaint. His lips were featherlight against my chin, my eyelids, the corner of my mouth. His hands came back to rest on my waist before we pulled away to look at one another.
His satisfied smirk had me grinning, suddenly relieved he hadn’t appeared alarmed or regretful.
Finally, he pressed one last kiss to my forehead and said, “I’ll drive you back. Your family is probably worried about you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
