Page 17 of His Pickle Her Jam

I looked around for a towel. My hands were wet from washing the various utensils I was planning to work with.

Buck had just walked in, and he looked mad as hell.

What the heck was going on?

“Who the fuck are you talking about? Who’s been using his mouth and his fucking pinky on you?” Buck growled, stomping over to me.

He was invading my personal space, pushing his hard, hot body into mine. I felt the table dig into my back, but it didn’t hurt.

Not at all.

How could I even register the cold stainless steel slab when I had all six-foot whatever of Buck pressed up against me?

“W-what?” I asked, rubbing my thighs together to try to stop the sudden ache I felt between my legs.

A flash of heat swept through me that had nothing at all to do with the temperature outside, and everything to do with him.

Why was this so hot?

“Who has been using his mouth and his fucking pinky on you?” Buck growled again, his dark eyes blazing with emotion as his arms locked around me.

“N-no one,” I replied, unable to do anything except obey.

I knew the kitchen was cool. I’d turned the AC on myself when I walked in that morning.

But holy shit. I was burning up now. My skin felt hot and flushed. I was swollen and achy in places I’d neglected for way too long.

His dark, brooding gaze dropped to my lips. Before I knew what was happening, Buck leaned down, and I tipped my head back to meet his searching mouth.

He was the last guy I’d kissed, and it had been so long.

A whole month, and joke if you wanted, but it felt like forever.

“Goddamn it,” he growled before crushing my mouth beneath his.

His lips were so much softer than I expected. Soft but firm. Giving, but also demanding. By the time he lifted his head, I was trembling with need.

“David,” I moaned, unable to stop his name from spilling from my lips.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, Jan. And if you want me to keep going, you will answer them. Now, who were you just talking to?”

“Talking to? Del, I mean, that was Delani,” I whispered, my gaze riveted to his mouth.

What did I need to do to get him to kiss me again?

“Good Girl,” he grunted, licking his way back into my mouth.

Buck dragged a moan from my throat as I sucked on his invading tongue. He tasted so good.

Like cinnamon and cloves.

“Now, who were you talking about?” he asked, his lips teasing mine, but never giving me the pressure I craved.

“What?”

“Who, Jan?” he said, his mouth hovering so close, making me chase him.

Fucker pulled back every time I got near.

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