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"What do you mean that's our third kiss? I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a second one."
"Actually, it's the first one you forgot," he teased, and she felt like an idiot.
"Explain."
"Christmas Eve, I drove you home after the debacle with Natalie's mom and the asshole. You pinned me to your door and kissed me stupid, and then your knees gave out and I carried you to bed. I crashed on your couch? Is any of this ringing a bell?"
Frankie was reeling. She'd kissed him Christmas Eve? That explained so much about her unrelenting fascination with his mouth. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"When you didn't remember and were mortified that I'd slept over, I figured it would only add insult to injury. I didn't want you to regret our first kiss, and I was hoping to make a better impression with our second."
"Well, this just confirms it." Jake's face went carefully blank, and Frankie let a small smirk through her shock. "Even drunk, I have excellent taste."
It was comical how quickly his face lit back up. She liked him better this way, open and laughing. His mask frustrated the hell out of her.
Her new knowledge cast their whole relationship in a different light. Had he really been into her since Christmas? She shuddered and gripped his shirt, keeping him close. “Why did we stop doing the kissing thing?” she asked.
Frankie gasped as his beard tickled her ear and he gently bit her earlobe.
“Don’t remember.”
"Me either." Frankie managed to push the words out between breaths that were getting caught in her chest as he continued to work his way across her cheekbone.
Jake’s hands rose to grip her face, and he finally gave her what she wanted. He took her mouth with abandon. He held her firmly, as if he expected her to pull away or disappear. She wished she could tell him she wouldn’t. That she’d been waiting weeks for this pleasure again. That he’d ruined her mouth for all other kisses. But her own lips were too busy kissing him back to form the words.
Each press of his lips against hers, each slide of his tongue, drove the ache at her core higher.
After weeks of imagined foreplay, Frankie was too wound up to just settle for kisses. She gripped his wrists hard and he pulled back, dropping his hands to her waist. She got her knees beneath her, braced herself on his shoulders, and practically climbed the man. Awkwardly settling herself in a straddle across his lap, she was just grateful she hadn't kneed him in the process. Being short was the worst.
Lining up the ache between her legs with his front zipper, she rocked her hips forward. Jake groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. The length of her legs meant that she was resting all of her weight on that sensitive spot, her legs just barely reaching the bar top. Being short was the best.
When he began to kiss her again, she struggled to stay still and enjoy it, but she wanted to rock her hips again so badly. With just a little effort and the pressure of her jeans, she could find the full release she craved.
She’d never had a problem taking care of herself between boyfriends, but ever since Christmas, selfies had been hard to come by. Literally. Something had been missing. She had a feeling Jake was the answer to her problem, but she didn’t want to scare him off by moving too fast.
Unfortunately, her hips didn’t get the message, twitching impatiently beneath his hands as he kneaded her ass. When he shifted a hand to palm her breast through her T-shirt and bra, Frankie yelped and jerked her hips forward. Feeling the full length of him pressed urgently against her, even through two layers of denim, was the last straw. She wanted to feel that pleasure again and again. She clasped her hands behind his neck and rocked herself on his lap until the pressure peaked. Everything contracted and she pulled his face into her chest as she clenched and shook. Spent, she collapsed, shivering and panting against his shoulder.
She didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing to confirm that he was indeed the thing that had been missing from her orgasms these last few months. She did know that she’d just changed the game between them.
Frankie scooted backward, relieving the pressure on her too-sensitive clit, and Jake winced.
“Um, I, uh…” Words had deserted her. Her brain was complete mush. She pressed her lips together.Please don't say anything stupid, she prayed.
Jake gripped her hips and gently set her off his lap, before hopping down from the bar and adjusting what had to be a painful erection.
“Do you need any help with that?” she asked, her voice shakier than she liked.
“No, I’m okay.” He backed away, heading for the door. He wouldn't look her in the eye.
“But I could…” Frankie gestured toward his rapidly retreating crotch.
“You’ve done enough.”
Frankie’s jaw dropped as he literally ran away from her, up the stairs.
What the hell?
CHAPTER14
