Page 91 of Second Chance Saloon

His eyes flung open. He sighed theatrically. “Fine.”

Mitch reached for the glass, but Jackie didn’t want to let go too early, afraid he’d spill it; his fingers wrapped around hers.

The insistent humming of desire filled her ears.

His eyes lifted, his gaze meeting hers, and for a split second, she forgot about all the reasons why giving in to that invisible string tugging at her heart would be wrong. How wrong could it be, if it steadily pulsated over the past ten years, without her even laying eyes on him? Like a stain she couldn’t get out of her heart, no matter how much she tried.

But had she tried, truly? Maybe part of her wanted to keep these golden years they spent together tucked away in a safe space she could visit in her mind whenever things got hard.

He pulled in a deep inhale, breaking the spell between them.

Jackie withdrew her hand and cleared her throat. “Bottoms up,” she said cheerily, but it sounded flat.

Mitch didn’t smile but his scorching gaze didn’t leave hers as he lifted the glass to his lips and drained it, shoving it on the nightstand. “There. It’s a shame you didn’t become a doctor. You’d be good at it.”

Her neck went taut. “I know.”

He swallowed audibly, tugging on the front of his shirt. “I need to get out of these clothes. It’s too hot.” His fingers caught the top button but slipped off, without undoing it. He frowned, trying and failing again.

Without thinking, Jackie slid from the bed on her knees, straightening herself between his legs. “Here, let me.”

Mitch’s hands fell back, planting themselves on the bed.

Her fingers paused on the button; her lungs expanded at their maximum capacity. A shiver skittered down her spine.

This was not a good idea.

She swallowed through a lump in her throat, ignoring the pitter-pattering of her heart.

The first button came undone.

Was it getting hotter or was she burning up?

Second, third and fourth button followed, soon revealing his bare chest.

Jackie drew back, biting on the inside of her cheek hard to jolt herself back to logic and reason. She’d seen him shirtless, at the pool and earlier today. Fuck, she’d even kissed him like they were a pair of horny college kids, unable to keep their hands off each other, again. So why did this moment feel more significant?

“You’re staring at me again. You know, if you want to see me naked, all you need to do is ask,” Mitch whispered teasingly, a smirk playing across his lips.

Jackie narrowed her eyes at him, yanking his shirt off. “You’re drunk. Not happening.”

“But if I was sober, it would?” Hope glistened in his eyes.

She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip, her vocal cords seemingly unable to form a convincing lie.

“I know you want it, too. Even if it’s just for old times’ sake,” he drawled, his hand running up her collarbone. “You, on your knees, reminds me of so many things.”

Her cheeks pinked and she jumped to her feet like a flare.

Mitch chuckled. “Relax, I’m not going to whip my dick at you.”

Jackie bit back a smile. How had they slipped into the old comfortable banter, like the past ten years didn’t happen? “With all the tequila you’ve had, I doubt it’d even go up.”

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. Before she’d realized what was happening, his hand was on hers, and a moment later, her fingers wrapped over his cock, which was decisively hard.

“Seems like you trump tequila,” he murmured.

She drew back, yanking her hand away. Blood rushed to her ears. Her heart jumped to her mouth.