Page 39 of Bound in Ashes

Jack tied his shoes with the intensity of a neurosurgeon six hours into an operation. But the way he kissed me now was slow, almost lazy, like he was exploring me.

Or trying to memorize me.

He stroked his hands down my sides, settling them lightly on my hips, and pulled me closer.

His hardness throbbed between us, leaving me anxious, edgy, and Jack seemingly unaffected.

I shivered and then moaned when his thick, calloused fingers touched my bare skin and worked my shirt up and off, taking my bra with it.

I shivered again from a mix of the breeze and Jack’s intense stare raising goosebumps on my skin.

He cupped my breasts, tweaking my pebbled nipples, then worked his thumbs in rough circles, but his eyes were locked on mine when he spoke.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pained.

“So are you,” I whispered as I reached out and pulled his shirt over his head.

I touched his chest, curling my fingers against his skin, and idly brushed a little rise of puckered, scarred flesh. “How many times have you been shot?”

“Three. Why?”

I couldn’t stop my harsh inhale, or the way my heart shuddered at the thought.

He tweaked my nipple again, and then kissed my cheek. “As you can see, I’m fine.” He punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips, his cock pressed against my sex.

I smiled, meeting his eyes. “Should I ask how many times you’ve been stabbed?”

He smiled back, his face so handsome, it was almost painful.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the scar.

He tensed under my touch.

I kissed him again.

He tensed again. “You’re killing me, Counselor.”

“Good.” I kissed my way across his chest, tracing his skin with my fingertips.

I started to lower myself to my knees, but he pulled me up and crushed his mouth against mine.

Kissed me hard, almost desperate, all traces of that earlier laziness gone.

He was my Jack.

He laid me down on the hard wood floor. Hay crunched beneath me, but I couldn’t have cared less. Barely even noticed when Jack was here, settling his weight between my thighs.

I spread for him shamelessly, hating the layers of fabric that separated us.

Was equally shameless in the moan I let out as he pinned me against the floor.

This was perfect. So fucking perfect.

My eyes drifted closed, but I opened them and looked at Jack as he stared down at me, something like anguish on his face.

I reached up and stroked his rugged jaw.

“Jack…” I whispered.