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Holy hell. I was going to give my brother’s best friend a second first kiss.
My eyes shuttered closed.
Our lips met.
I shuddered, bracing myself with both hands to his solid chest. From nothing to being pressed against him, my knees on the cushions, utterly scared to do more. Heat scalded me. I gave up a little gasp and kissed him again.
He made a low sound and changed the angle, this time, parting his lips. Automatically, I did the same. His tongue slid over mine.
Fuck.My brain melted.
His taste added to the entirely erotic overload. Something masculine and delicious.
Still holding my waist, his fingers skimming my bared flesh, Jackson drew me closer, working my lips in a thorough seduction. It was all I could do to hang on. I’d wanted to surprise him. I couldn’t even match him. My ability to think had left the building, and all I knew was this perfect, soul-stealing kiss.
It was more than I’d dreamt about. And God knows I’d put in the practice there.
After a few moments of establishing how to breathe and stay conscious, I moved in sync, finding a rhythm with each pass building towards something I really needed to reach. I wanted his hands to roam. To relieve the pressure at my breasts and between my legs.
Suddenly, I became aware of the hard ridge I was riding.
I broke away and opened my eyes, my lips parted in shock. This wasn’t just a lesson, or a do-over. He was into this.
As if he understood, Jackson brushed his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes half-lidded. “I told ye I liked the first kiss. I liked that one, too.”
Quaking, I raised a shoulder in fake nonchalance. “That wasn’t the impression you gave.”
This earned me a fleeting smile. I watched his mouth, hypnotised by the image of him being happy.
“I’m not boyfriend material, but that doesn’t mean I’m unable to appreciate ye.”
Not boyfriend…? I hadn’t been offering a relationship. I wanted to reply the same, but actually, I wanted more kissing. This temporary moment of insanity couldn’t last. Sooner or later, we’d snap back into our normal mode of mostly ignoring each other. Or in my case, staring when he wasn’t looking.
I tentatively touched his face and brought my lips back to his. Jackson gave up that same, delicious deep sound of want and kissed me in return.
The air seemed to press in around us.
A door thudded in the apartment.
We both froze.
A footstep landed on the stairs.
I scrambled off Jackson’s lap and retreated to the opposite sofa, smoothing out my hair and setting the backs of my hands to my burning cheeks. Jackson grabbed a cushion and held it to his lap.
Right as my brother entered the room.
Chapter 9
Jackson
Raphael dropped onto the sofa next to me and nudged my shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, bleary from apparently just waking up. “Thought I heard the door but I was fighting sleep. I wanted to hear what ye had to tell Ariel.”
Holy fuck. What I had to say to his sister wasn’t for his ears.
I pulled myself together, keeping my gaze off the lass. And willing my erection to go away.
“I was asking about Larson’s motive,” I said honestly, if through a wall of distraction made from a perfect kiss.
