Page 25 of His Pickle Her Jam

At least, not until she answered me and told me she understood. I mean, fuck. Didn’t she know how awesome she was?

Jan was not only gorgeous and sweet, but she was also a woman with outstanding dignity and honesty. She was a terrific verbal sparring partner.

She never backed down from an argument, always making sure she was heard. God, I loved to listen to her. The woman had the most incredible mind.

Jan was also an excellent friend. Through thick and thin, I’d watched this woman stick by her best friend, offering unwavering support regardless of the situation.

And this whole thing she was doing, trying to put down roots for her already successful online jams and jelly business was brave as hell.

I was in awe of her. Really, she was downright inspiring.

Jan swallowed. I realized I’d suddenly made the atmosphere more serious, more tense than I intended to be.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound all down on myself. I just really hate it when I get hurt. My, um, my mother was always getting hurt in the kitchen. A cut here, a burn there, and my Dad was so quick-tempered about it. Like it was her fault. I just, I don’t like to make mistakes,” she whispered.

My arms tightened for a moment, and I leaned back to look at her pretty face. That was probably the most personal thing Jan had ever said to me, and I totally understood.

“My dad was a good man, but he was a perfectionist. He had no patience for mistakes, regardless of who made them. Even when it was his own son. I promise you, I will never think less of you for making a mistake, Pretty Girl. God knows, I make them all the time,” I whispered.

Her luminous amber eyes were glued to mine and when I leaned down, it was unclear who reached who first.

She stood on her tiptoes, every soft inch of her pressed to my body. Mine reacted predictably, but instead of shying away from it, Jan moaned, squeezing her arms around my waist. She hugged me to her, tilting her head and opening her mouth wider as she tangled her tongue with mine.

The woman kissed like she did most everything, she dove in headfirst and participated fully. And I loved it. I loved every single thing about it.

Her scent. Her taste. The feel of her in my arms.

It wasn’t the time or place for it, but I needed more of her. And I needed it right now.

This woman had been driving me crazy for months. Enemies or not, I had to have her.

“Fuck. I need you, Pretty Girl,” I growled, nipping her lower lip with mine.

“T-there’s a sofa in the office just over there,” she replied, tilting her head back to allow me to lick along her speeding pulse.

I closed my eyes and thanked whoever might be listening for Mr. Jones leaving his sofa in his old office. Eyes on her, I bent my knees and lifted Jan up with both hands locked onto her gorgeous ass.

She wrapped her legs around me, biting her lower lip and looking equal parts mischievous and more tempting than chocolate cherry cake.

“You’re sure?” I asked, wanting to kick myself but needing to hear her say it.

“I’m sure, David. I want you, too.”

Thunder roared in my ears, and I hoped like fuck she wasn’t saying anything else cause I was blind, def and dumb to everything but my current mission.

Get Jan to the office. Strip her down. Bend her over the sofa, and bury my cock inside her perfectly plush body. After I make her come on my tongue, of course.

The doorknob turned with a click, and I flicked the switch on.

“Do we need that on?” she asked, as I slid her down my body, allowing her to feel every inch of my hard length.

“Fuck yes, I need the light on. I wanna see every glorious inch of you, Jan Baby.”

She shook her head, like what I was saying was ridiculous, and she looked down. But I wasn’t having any of that. I cupped the back of her neck, firmly, but tenderly, and I squeezed until she brought her eyes back to mine.

“Take that dress off. Let me see what’s mine,” I rumbled.

“Oh, um, like all the way off? With the light on?”

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