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My face pales as I wince.
“I’msosorry—”
“Don’t be,” he shrugs. “Just garbage anyway, as usual.”
I stare at him. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not. It’s all garbage these days.”
He starts to slip the guitar strap over his head.
“Wait!” I blurt. “Don’t stop!”
My face heats as he arches a brow.
“I mean, don’t stop because of me. Keep playing.”
His eyes slowly trace over me, and when they halt midway down, and smolder, I frown quizzically. But when I glance down at myself, I blush when it clicks.
I’ve been standing in the doorway with my arm raised, elbow on the doorframe above my head as I leaned against it. And I’m still just wearing his button-down flannel. Which in this position, is now pulled up.
Flashing my panties.
I flush heatedly as I drop my arm. But Jackson’s hungry look doesn’t fade.
“I’d rather play something else,” he growls thickly.
I shiver, biting my lip as desire pools in my core.
“What if I said yes…”
He growls as he starts to stand.
“Butonly,” I add quickly, grinning at him. “If you play me something first.”
I grunt rumbles in his throat.
“Sneaky.”
I shrug.
“Except I don’t take requests.”
I shrug, clicking my tongue against my teeth.
“Well, then that’s a bummer for you, because those are the rules.”
“You’ve seen my track record with rules, yes?”
I blush, biting my lip as my thighs clench.
“If you want to play…you have toplay.”
He grunts, eying me with a scowl. But then, he cracks his neck as he sits back into the chair and reaches for the guitar.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “What’s the fucking request.”
I restrain myself from jumping up and down.
