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I feel it everywhere.
“You can’t sleep?” he asks when I draw close.
I reach for his laptop and move it from his lap to another chair.
“No.” I crawl onto his lap, one arm going around his neck while I take hold of his face with my other hand.
His eyes are glued to mine.
“I was missing you,” I say as I bring my mouth to his. “I needed this.” My mouth closes over his so I can claim the kiss I came for.
That trademark Jameson growly sound vibrates through me as he kisses me back. One of his hands slides over my ass while the other one curves around my waist.
Everything about this feels right.
Everything.
From flying here with him today, to visiting my father’s grave with him, to this kiss on his lap.
And the thing I know without a shadow of a doubt is that I want more of this with him. So much more of it all.
When I end the kiss, I keep my face close to his and ask, “How much longer until you come to bed?”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s standing, lifting me with him, and carrying me into the bedroom.
He deposits me on the floor and drops his gaze to my chest while starting to make his way down the buttons of my pajama top. He works slowly, far slower than we’ve ever done this. It’s like he’s mesmerized by those buttons.
“You know you could do this a lot faster by just lifting it over my head, right?” I say as I reach for his buttons. His shirt cannot be lifted over his head unfortunately.
His eyes meet mine again. “I’m enjoying the anticipation.”
Those four words curl their way through me in the very best way.
“As you were then,” I say while working his buttons, even though what I want to say is ‘hurry the hell up.’
His lips curve up in the kind of smile that promises so many good things. “Has anyone told you how fucking sexy you are when you’re turned on?”
“No. You should tell me.”
He gives me more of that sexy smile as he finishes with my buttons and discards my top. He moves into me, cupping one breast and reaching his fingers into my hair. Bending his face, he brings his mouth to my ear. “You are sexy as hell when you’ve got my eyes on you.”
I can’t be sure, but I’m almost certain I moan at that.
The next-level heat that’s in Jameson’s eyes when he looks at me again tells me that he liked whatever I did.
His mouth claims mine as I strip his shirt from him.
We move from slow to fast.
We’re arms and hands and mouths and grinding and holy-hell-I-didn’t-think-our-sex-could-get-any-better-but-it-is.
He tears all my clothes off me.
I tear all his off him.
And then, he gets me on the bed, legs spread wide, his mouth to my clit, and I’m arching my back and gripping the sheet and giving him more of those moans he likes.
He gets me close, over and over, and then pulls me back, not letting me find the release I’m desperate for. It’s pleasure I both love and hate.
