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“I’m tired.” Putting a hand on his chest, I push him back. “I’d hate to be coming down with a cold and get you sick.”
“You know damn well that’s not what has your checks blushing.” A smirk plays on his lips.
“Can’t be too safe.” I shrug and stand. “Night, Prince.”
Walking past him, I refuse to look down at his handsome face. I was already faltering while the movie was playing. No need to look temptation in the eye again.
An hour later, a knock sounds on my bedroom door, and I roll my eyes, not surprised. When Jackson pokes his head and sees I’m still awake, he enters the room and closes the door behind him.
“Jackson, what was that during the movie?” I ask, still irritated he was so brazen and that I let him.
“Red, you can’t seriously expect me to watch some beefy guy with his hands all over you, then have you sit next to me in a dark room and not replace his touch with mine.” Prowling to the edge of the bed, then up my body, he brings his face over mine.
“So, that was a show of possession? He touched me, so now you have to stake a claim? We’re not on the playground, Jackson,” I reply irritably. I want to push him away, but the weight of his body on mine has my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, like a Pavlovian response or something. I couldn’t control it if I tried.
Yeah, that sounds like a perfectly reasonable explanation.
He trails light, wet kisses down my neck to the swells of my breasts. Lifting my nightshirt over my hips, he continues his sensual descent.
“Maybe not, but you know the old saying…” He stops when he reaches the top of my panties and locks his eyes on mine. “If I lick it, it’s mine.” He quickly pulls my panties down my legs, spreads my thighs, and takes a long lick up my drenched center.
Shuddering with pleasure, I decide I would be an idiot to argue at this point. We’re on vacation. Enjoying a few nights of orgasms never hurt anyone.
CHAPTER6
JACKSON
Three in the morning on Christmas Eve, and just as I expected, Abigail kicked me out of her bed. I’m getting really tired of not having a full night’s sleep while I’m on vacation, but that woman is still insisting we keep our activities a secret. I’m not sure what her hang-ups are when it comes to pursuing a relationship with me… well, except that I fucked up a year ago. She has no problem sleeping with me but refuses for it to go any further.
My brother comes down the stairs, still in his pajamas, and goes about making a cup of coffee for himself and Kasey.
“I’m going to do it tonight,” he says quietly with a nervous lilt to his words. He doesn’t have to elaborate; I know exactly what he’s talking about.
Turning to him, I clasp his shoulder, excited I get to witness such a monumental occasion in his life. There were a few years there when Donovan and I weren’t close—to put it mildly—but after dealing with my stalker and me staying with him while he was recovering from a gunshot wound, our relationship turned a corner. He even asked me to go ring shopping with him when he decided to propose on this trip. To say I was honored is an understatement. I’ve always loved and respected my brother, but recently, we have the closeness we shared as young men. I’ll never take that for granted again.
“Why do you seem nervous? It’s not as if you think she’s going to say no, is it?” He can’t possibly be worried about that. I’ve never seen a woman more in love than Kasey. Not that I have much experience in that particular department, but she looks at Donovan the way my mother has always looked at my father, and they’ve been together nearly forty years.
“A little? I don’t know.” He turns and pours himself a cup of coffee, then leans against the counter as he takes a sip. “When the subject came up before the trip, she said it’s hard for her to imagine walking down the aisle without her father. I want to marry the woman more than I want to take my next breath, but the idea that she’ll be sad on her wedding day guts me.” Donovan runs a hand down his face, obviously pained at the thought of causing Kasey any sort of heartbreak.
“You can have a small wedding, brother. Make it about what she’s comfortable with, not what she’s missing on her wedding day. She loves you and wants to marry you. If she didn’t, she would have told you.” If there’s one thing I know about my future sister-in-law, it’s that she has no problem speaking her mind.
“That’s very true.” Smiling wryly, Donovan chuckles. “Then the only person I’ll have to convince to keep it a small affair is our mother.”
We both wince. Susan Hayes is an event planner extraordinaire. Asking her to keep her oldest son’s wedding low-key is like asking the Pope not to pray on Sunday.
Leaning against the counter opposite him, I tilt my head to the ceiling, wondering what to say to make him feel better about her involvement.
“She might surprise you.” It’s a weak attempt at best. Honestly, we both know it will be an uphill battle.
“Have you met our mother?” Donovan looks at me as if I’d just said the most preposterous thing he’s ever heard.
“Fair enough,” I say in agreement. “But don’t let anything deter you on this, Donovan. When all is said and done, Kasey will be married to you, regardless of whether it’s a ceremony with just the two of you or a lavish wedding with five hundred people.”
“Thanks, Jackson.” He nods and tips his lips up in a small smile of appreciation. Making Kasey a cup of coffee, he turns toward the stairs, then stops as though he suddenly remembered something.
“Any headway on the Abigail front?”
“Nope.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, I push off the counter and grab my own cup of coffee. “She still insists it’s nothing more than sex. I need to figure out a way to make her see this for what it really is or move on. I can’t keep banging my head on the proverbial wall.” The thought of giving up on our fiery chemistry leaves a hollow feeling in my chest.
