I can feel Jack’s eyes on me as I move across the room and head toward the balcony.
The Boston skyline stretches out to the harbor in glittering gold and black, the blink of a descending plane cutting through the dark to land at Logan Airport. I used to love watching them when I was little, convinced for the longest time that they were shooting stars.
I grip the railing tight. My heart hasn’t slowed since that kiss.
“Hey.”
His voice slides over me, and my body warms in anticipation of his touch.
“That was…” My breath puffs out, the air way too cold to be out here without a jacket. “A lot.”
We both know I’m not talking about the gala.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, low. “Couldn’t when I was away. Can’t now, not tonight, when you look like perfection in that dress.”
I finally meet his stare. His eyes are dark with want, like he’s already made up his mind about tonight. Panic spikes in my stomach. “Jack, we said?—”
“I know what we said.” He steps closer, his chest brushing against mine.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Instead, my hands slide up his chest, cupping his face to draw his mouth back down to mine. It’s hungry, desperate. My fingers dig into his hair. He tastes like champagne and chocolate cake, and when he groans against my lips, my knees nearly buckle.
We break apart, both of us breathing hard.
“Stay with me tonight.” He trails the back of his hand against the side of my face. “I’ll drive you back in the morning.”
I should go home. I’ve been putting off inventory long enough.
“Izzy.” He tips my face up toward his, and my spiraling stops. “I’ll beg.”
“I like it when you do.” I’m not sure where I find it within myself to tease him, but that sly smile stretches across his mouth, showing off those damn dimples again.
It’s bad enough when he wears his glasses, but when Jack wears a tux? Apparently, all my self-control flies out of the window.
We quickly say our goodbyes, hop in a taxi, andwhen we reach his place twenty minutes later, he unlocks the door and holds it open for me. It feels like a game of chicken, the long beat that fills the space between us until the door shuts with a soft click behind us.
When Jack’s mouth finds mine again, desperate, I know there’s no going back.
Chapter 17
Jack
The second the door clicks behind us, my patience snaps.
I spin Izzy around, her back hitting it with a soft thud. My mouth crashes into hers, and it’s nothing like the careful distance I kept all night.
I’m desperate.
Izzy fists my tux’s jacket like she’s holding on for dear life, and when her tongue meets mine, I swear I could die right now, and it’d be enough.
The Chanel ribbon is still tied around the new clutch I bought her. One tug, and I’ve got it in my hand. She gasps when I catch her wrists, raising them above her head. The black silk looks delicate against her skin in a way that makes my chest ache.
“Jack…” Her voice is breathless, somewhere between warning and invitation.
“Tell me to stop.” I press my mouth to her jaw, teasing.
She licks her lips, eyes burning into mine, and whispers, “I don’t want you to.”
Fuck me.
