His mouth muffled the sounds fighting to get free as my hips pumped in time with his thrusts. And still, his thumb worked against that tiny bundle of nerves, driving me mad.
“Yes,” I gasped, breaking our kiss. I bowed my head and pressed my forehead to his shoulder as I moved on top of him, desperate and seeking.
The scruff on his jaw was rough against the sensitive skin of my neck and collarbone, but I loved the feel of it, making all my nerve endings come alive. So, so alive.
“That’s it,” Jack murmured, voice low and raw. “Take what you need. That’s my good girl.”
My inner muscles clamped down on his fingers while his thumb finally gave me the pressure I needed. I was coming, my mouth firm against his fancy white shirt to stifle the low moan I couldn’t stop.
After a moment, I leaned back and met his gaze. Eagerness was quickly replacing the loose, satisfied feeling in my limbs. Iwanted to return the favor. So I reached for his belt, but Jack shook his head.
“You should get back before your friends come looking for you.”
“Oh, right.” I nodded awkwardly, disappointed that our time was up.
I wiggled back to try to stand, but Jack stopped me with a possessive hand on my thigh. “You want to stay over tonight? You could come with me to the soccer game in the morning.”
I pretended to consider. “Will there be Pop-Tarts?”
He paused to consider. “That could be arranged.”
I didn’t know how to say how thankful I was for the way he’d taken control tonight and saved me in my moment of weakness. How he’d provided respite in the midst of my turmoil. The way he always seemed to know just what I needed, and if he didn’t, he just came right out and asked. Something that seemed so simple, but was rare all the same.
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t find the words. Jack didn’t want my gratitude anyway.
So I cupped his cheeks and kissed him instead. Something soft. A sweet press that lingered, saying what I couldn’t.
Minutes later, I’d straightened my skirt and cleaned up, leaving Jack in the powder room so we could stagger our return to the bar area.
My friends were still at the table, talking and laughing. It was Becca who noticed my approach first. She smiled brightly as I slid into the booth.
“Bonnie, you’re glowing.” Then her eyes slid over my shoulder before widening.
I turned my head and watched Jack slip behind the bar, his gaze meeting mine briefly.
When I faced forward again, Becca had a gleeful expression on her face, and my stomach dropped. I opened my mouth, unsure if I should say anything at all or if that would just draw more attention to myself.
Panic must have been plain on my face because Becca’s delight dimmed.
Before I could figure out how to salvage this, Mac called out, “Yeah, Bonnie always gets red-faced on wine. I’m the same way. I think it’s a curse from our mother.”
“Probably,” I offered weakly.
“Oh, I get that way with tequila,” Becca said helpfully, still smiling gently my way. And knowing the friendly woman, it was more in support than anything else. I had a feeling that if anyone could keep my secret, it would be her. “But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying a margarita when the mood strikes.” Then she winked.
I fought my laughter.
“Amen,” Larry said.
“We should get margaritas!” Candace added.
“Great idea,” Mac said, putting her hand up for a high five.
And I thought it was a very good thing that all of their significant others would be here soon to drive their drunk behinds home.
My gaze slid toward Jack at the bar.
After all, I had plans of my own.
