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His strong, full lips took mine in a possessive kiss. My body sank against the wall as we molded together. We were fire and wind, and the intensity was enough to knock me off my feet. His tongue slid along my lower lip, and I gasped in permission as he tasted the rest of me completely. His kiss was powerful, deliberate, and consuming. Everything fell away as I greedily took it and returned it with the same fervor. He pulled back briefly and pushed my hands further over my head then held them there as he again dipped in and stole my breath, claiming my mouth. His tongue teased and tortured before he thrust in deep, and I became aware more than ever of his effect on me. I matched him lick for slow, sweet lick, and moaned into his mouth, starved for more.

Thoughtless and full of the need to touch him, I fought against his hands while he put more pressure on them, leaning in to cover my body with his.

I pulled back with a plea. “Let me touch you,” I begged.

“Not yet, and not here,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips like silk as he brushed them lightly against mine.

A loud burst of laughter had us both stilling before we looked in their direction and back at each other. I gave Jack wide eyes as he leaned in again.

“We better get back,” I argued weakly, not wanting our stolen moment to end. He nodded as he held me against the wall. My chest rose and fell, brushing against his with each breath. He looked down at my flushed and ready body with appreciation before looking back at me. I was in a simple light blue cotton sundress and wanted nothing more than to be rid of it in that moment. His eyes told me he wanted the same.

This time, I leaned in and took his lips, and he obliged as he fully tasted me again. Heart beating out of control, I sank further into him as I gave him more and more, and he took without hesitation. It was heaven and hell, a perfect mix of satisfaction and desire. He eased away from me as electricity filled the air between us then slowly pulled my hands down, kissing each one before he let them go.

He’d made good on his promise to bring all he had, and I was overjoyed at the fact that I could handle it and so much more. That I wanted more, needed more, from Jack. Another bout of laughter from the kitchen had us looking at each

other with regret.

“You go first. I’m going to need a minute,” Jack said without apology as he brushed slightly against my stomach and I felt the fullness in his jeans. I’d always loved a man who was freely sexual and Jack seemed to fit the bill. I boldly brushed my hand against him before I began to walk toward the direction of my waiting family.

“Not nice,” Jack said with a groan.

“You started it,” I shot back playfully. We shared an intimate smile before I made my way toward the kitchen. I paused for a moment in the doorway to collect myself and touched my lips. They were swollen, sensitive, and in a way felt renewed. I briefly remembered a time when I wondered if I would ever know a kiss again.

And Jack had just wrecked me with his.

My lips ached a little for him now in his absence. As I slowly came down from the high of his touch, my body reminded me that I’d be more ready physically if we ever became truly intimate. And that was enough for now.

I walked into the kitchen and joined my family at the table, still reeling but elated. I was capable; at least, it felt that way for now.

“They’re out cold,” I assured Dallas, who looked to me with eager eyes. Relief covered her features, and she nodded to me in thanks before taking a large bite of her fajitas.

Jack joined us only a short minute later, and I couldn’t help but smile a little at my plate knowing what we’d just shared. We sat at the table, Jack next to me as if by design, as everyone held separate conversations. My dad and Paul talked shop, Paul having taken over my father’s successful architecture firm years earlier. My mother, Dean, and Dallas wrapped up in their own conversation about the kids.

Jack doted on me without the awareness of others, handing me a napkin before I had a chance to ask for a spare, filling my empty margarita with the pitcher on the table as soon as I’d drained it. I looked at him with a soft “thank you.” Though he didn’t look at me often or even force conversation, I could feel him with me. It was if he was holding my hand. It sent welcomed warmth through me.

An hour later, the entire table was buzzing with shared conversation as my parents chimed in with lighthearted antics of parenting.

“Rose was the hardest with her temper,” my mother said with a laugh. “She once gave her father and me the silent treatment for a full day because we refused to house her grass snake. She was so sure of everything, including her opinion, which changed daily. She was also a klutz, which terrified us to no end when she announced she wanted to be a surgeon.”

“I can see that,” Jack agreed next to me.

My mother looked over at Jack as she continued. “She once saw a homeless man downtown and insisted we take him home with us because we had the room. She cried for hours when we told her no and wouldn’t let up until we went back searching for him. When we found him, she forced Seth to empty his wallet and promised we’d be back every week on the same day.”

“I did?”

“You were five,” my father said, looking at my mother and then back at me. “He wasn’t a friendly man at all. You should have been scared of him. Instead, you surprised us. And trust me, you didn’t let us forget about him. We went back for about a month, until one day he didn’t show. You were a fearless little girl.”

“I don’t remember,” I said as I searched my bank of memories and came up empty.

“Fearless and daring,” my mother agreed. “I caught you playing peekaboo with one of the neighbor’s little boys in the backyard one day. After we had a little talk, you insisted for almost a week that one day you too would have a penis.”

Jack spit out some of the margarita he was drinking and looked at me with soft eyes and a loud laugh.

“Okay, parents, no need for anymore recap. I get it, I was a difficult child.”

“Oh, but you were so much fun,” my mother said with adoration. “Paul was responsible, Dallas was a brat, but easy maintenance, and you were our wild card.”

“That’s why I call you little woman,” my dad said in agreement with my mother. “Independent from the first year you were born. I’ve never seen another baby so hell-bent on doing everything for herself. You even tried to change your own diapers.”

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