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Okay, she had to admit it. She, Jane Langston, author of The Sex Factor, the very woman who’d penned the words, “Take charge of your sexual desires or they will take charge of you,” was out of her mind with pent-up sexual urges.
That was the only way to explain what she did next.
“You’d better watch out for Bradley—” Luke was in the middle of saying, when she kissed him.
With her eyes closed, it didn’t matter who she was kissing—Bradley, Luke, it could be whomever she wanted it to be.
The entire world stopped spinning, the din of the party in the background died away and Jane’s pulse froze for a few moments, before she came to her senses and realized what she was doing.
But just as she was about to pull away, sputter an apology and run from the room, Luke slid his arms around her and responded with a kiss of his own, as deep and intense as his eyes. His tongue brushed past her lips and explored, took possession as she opened up to him.
She absorbed his heat as their bodies molded together. He gripped her hips and lifted her up onto the countertop, pressed himself between her legs. Jane knew in that instant that she wanted to strip her clothes off and make love to Bradley—no, Luke, no, Bradley—like a mad-woman.
Luke cupped her face in his hands and tasted her more gently, then tilted her head back into his palm and kissed her neck, her collarbone and up to her earlobe. Jane heard a shallow moan escape her lips, and in an instant Bradley—Luke!—covered her mouth with his again, silencing her.
Then he pulled away.
“I think you should stay away from Brad Stone.”
Jane snapped back to reality, and she wondered if he’d been reading her confused thoughts. “This—this—this kiss had nothing to do with Bradley.”
“I certainly hope not.” A vague smile played on his lips.
“I mean, this was purely just pent-up sexual energy getting out of control.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Sure it was.”
“I apologize,” she said, feeling ridiculous because he was still wedged between her legs, still close enough to kiss. But she had no escape route, and her insolent body wasn’t even remotely interested in putting distance between them.
Instead of taking her apology as an invitation to back off, Luke settled in closer, and heat shot up from between Jane’s legs, where their bodies met, straight to her face.
“No need,” he whispered. “I’m comfortable right here.”
Jane’s every possible sarcastic response faded into thin air.
And then someone knocked at the door. “Janie? Are you in there?” Heather said.
Luke’s gaze darted to the door, then back to Jane. “Your sister?” he asked, not making the slightest effort to lower his voice.
“Yes,” she hissed under her breath.
And before she could stop him, he reached over, unlocked the door, and opened it.
4
Moments of sexual weakness need not mark the end of control over your sexuality. Just minimize the damage by renewing your resolve, closing your legs and telling him the free milk-fest has come to an end.
—Jane Langston, from her work-in-progress, Sex and Sensibility
JANE’S SISTER TOOK IN the sight of them, clutched together like lovers, and her face lost all its color. Luke had quickly noticed the condescending way the triplets treated Jane, and he figured they needed to have their attitudes adjusted. If there was one thing he disliked most about the shallow subculture Jane’s sisters, Michael and his friends were a part of, it was their belief that blond hair and big tits made a woman.
“Do you mind?” he said. “We’re a little busy here.”
“I…I’m sorry. Whoa, I mean, I thought—” Heather snapped her mouth shut. “I’ll be going now,” she said, and shut the door.
“Why did you do that?” Jane whispered.
“Why did you kiss me?”
She produced a look of innocence. “Seemed like a good idea at the time?”
“It doesn’t exactly fit with your philosophy of restraint.”
Her face flushed, and he knew he’d touched a nerve.
“I never said I was perfect, or that practicing restraint is easy—especially during times of stress. I’m under a lot of stress right now.”
Luke slid his hands up her back searching for tense muscles. “You feel pretty relaxed to me.”
She glared at him. “I store tension in my neck, okay?”
He shrugged. “Is Brad Stone the source of your stress?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked as if she might inflict pain on a vulnerable spot at any moment. Luke readied himself to go on the defensive.
“Are you jealous of Bradley or something?”
