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Don’t forget they were being watched. Voyeurism had never been her thing. She didn’t think… had she tried it? Not something that presented itself as an opportunity all the time. Their cover was important. If anyone suspected they weren’t really there to take part, that could spell trouble. That was why her pelvis undulated faster, why her hands snuck around to grab the wooden frame running between Jagg’s back and the wall.
“Jagg,” she whimpered, doubting he heard it.
But as she got higher, her head went further onto his shoulder, opening up her collarbone, her throat. His hands slipped under fabric, squeezing, teasing, testing her limits. Oh, limits be damned.
Rolling her hips, her weight braced between her perched feet and clinging hands. Still steadying herself with one hand, the other snuck its way around between their bodies. That lump in his jeans was impressive. Tempting. Her curiosity needed an outlet, it needed to be satisfied. Shit, yes, she had to be satisfied.
Pressing hard against him, she did her best to rub him through frustrating denim. His teeth grazed her jaw. Her mouth jumped in instant response, seeking the gratification of his eager tongue’s invasion. Maybe something else could invade. Something longer, hotter, harder. Maybe it could go so much deeper, sate the hunger heating and tormenting her.
Her arm tightened around his head again as the other tried to loosen the buttons of his jeans. One of his hands left her breast. One she hoped would help her. But that wasn’t its mission. Oh, fuck, it wasn’t heading for the apex of his thighs. No. It was heading for the apex of hers.
Dipping under her skirt, he grabbed her leg, squeezing her hard. His strength. Solidity. Determination. Jagg didn’t apologize for who he was or what he wanted. Never had. Even when her mom ranted at Ford that his friend was bad news, Ford didn’t listen. Yeah, Jagger Dunn was bad news in the worst kind of bad boy way, but no woman could be blamed for giving him everything he wanted when it felt so damn good.
Dragging his hand higher, he stroked her over her panties. Stupid panties. Why had she thought they were a good idea?
Releasing just enough pressure on his mouth that her lips could move, she exhaled one word, “yes.”
When she licked her lips, they were so close to his that her tongue met both. A breath passed as his fingers slipped into her panties, caressing her clit with such deliberate control, the world slowed. Man, that… the pressure. The need. Was it all her? Did she…? Should she…?
Flashing between darkness and light, their lips were still in touch when her blind, drowsy, mesmerizing stare met his. Were they looking at each other? Were they kissing? Yes. No. Neither was right. Neither wrong. Awareness only wrought a deeper panting between their mingled breath when his fingertip dipped into her. It went further, slow, oh, so fucking slowly. Her jaw relaxed with each millimeter of his advance.
The second he got knuckle deep, her arm clenched and her mouth grabbed his, devouring the man meant to be her cover. An advance had never been more welcome. Wherever they were, whatever was… How was he doing that? Finger fucking her and massaging her clit at the same time? She didn’t care. The man worked with his hands for a living, obviously he was good at it. Damn. Shit… Uh…
Her kiss paused. Her whole body froze. Every muscle tightened; every nerve pounced closer to the surface of her enlivened skin. Oh, shit, she was… Her attention on him lagged. Neglecting him would be bad form if he wasn’t the reason she…
A yelp of climax jumped from her mouth to his. She couldn’t… His head bumped hers, pushing it against his solid shoulder, giving her permission to experience every single incredible second… It kept on going and he twisted his hand, suddenly taking a different approach, swiping her clit the other way and… Oh, God, it was—
“Dunn.”
Dunn? What? Who said…?
Blinking fast, she couldn’t see straight as she lifted her head. There was a guy there. Two actually. Standing right there.
“What?” Jagg snapped, out of breath. “What the fuck do you want?”
“He wants you,” the guy said, eyeing her chest.
“Does it look like I give a fuck?”
“Looks like she’s about to get one,” the guy behind said.
“Boss gets what he wants. You know he does.”
“Shit,” Jagg exhaled.
“Leave her here for us. We’ll finish her for you.”
“Yeah, right,” Jagg said, raising a knee to boost her onto her feet. “She stays with me.”
FIVE
WOBBLING IN THE unexpected upright position, it was Jagg standing to flop his arm over her again that kept her balanced.
“My purse.”
She managed to think straight long enough for Jagg to hand it over, somehow without taking his arm from her.
As she looped the wrist strap around her hand, they walked, winding through people and tables and… other stuff.
