Page 79 of Body Check

I rake my fingers through my hair, pulling on the strands. Heave a big, dramatic sigh as I ask, “Pleased with yourself, Mrs. Carter?”

TheMrs.slips out on habit alone, but Holly merely sends a wink in my direction. “Aw, does the big, bad captain not like having the tables turned?” She skips a finger from the bend of my knee up, up, up, until she’s reached the linen. “It didn’t seem fair that I be the only one with hard . . . peaks, if you know what I mean.”

When she drops her chin to stare briefly at her nipples, my cock jumps right back to attention again because he’s nothing if not a mutineer.

“Holly.” Her name rolls off my tongue, thick, with heavy emphasis on the first syllable. I say it again because I like the wayhertongue comes out to flick across her bottom lip when I speak. My hand goes to her naked shoulder, my thumb caressing the jut of her collarbone. Just like that, I have her in the palm of my hands, her blue eyes dark with arousal, knees bouncing up and down with pent-up energy.

“Tell me, Holls . . . did you wear this dress because you wanted me to spend the next hour admiring you in it?” I finger the thin strap that encircles her neck and dips down to her back, not missing the sharp lift of her shoulders as I play. “Or did you wear it because you wanted me to strip you naked?”

“Neither.”

Just like that, my limbs lock in place. I want what she wants, and I would never, ever push her past that. This woman . . . fuck, she means so much to me—more than she’ll probably ever realize—and I could never, in good conscious, take what she’s not offering.

Even if it feels as though she’s just made a slapshot to my groin.

Slowly, as not to spook her, I pull away.

Keep it together, man. Don’t let her see how much you want this.

Her small fingers wrapping around my wrist keep me in place, and her breathy voice damn-near makes me lose my mind.

“I said neither, Jackson, because I don’t want to sit here and objectively be admired.” She tugs my hand until it’s gripping her hip, my fingers splayed along the upper curve of her ass. I suck in a deep breath.

She smiles, then, and it’s pure seduction.

It slays me with its flirtatiousness.

Sabotages every hope that I’ve got still kicking around to do the gentlemanly thing and leave her be—to not drudge up all our old wounds and heartaches and all the damn love, simply so I can feel her against me again.

When she speaks, it’s nothing but a purr that sets my skin aflame. “I didn’t wear it because I wanted to see it slung across the room either.” The smallest pause. “I wore it because I want it yanked around my hips while you make me come all over your dick. After all, you promised that every other round would be onyou.”

Glass shatters.

My jaw drops.

“Holyshit.”

The last bit didn’t come from me—neither did the glass breaking—although I’m sure as hell two seconds away from doing both.

I swing my gaze toward the bartender, who’s standing there with a slack jaw, wide eyes, and a tent in his jeans that’s got nothing to do with me and everything to do with Holly.

Not happening.

“We’ll take the check.”

“Please,” Holly supplies for me, a quick smile in my direction. She glances back over at the bartender, who’s yet to move an inch. “But thank you for that tea. Whatever it was”—she fans her face, whistling low—“has mesoworked up right now.”

It takes another round of prodding on my part for the bartender to come back with the check. As soon as he does, I slip a hand around Holly’s elbow and pull her close enough that I can touch my nose to her ear and mutter, “You’re trouble.”

She presses a kiss to my cheek. “There’s nothing I like more than seeing you come undone.”

Then she’s in luck.

Because tonight, I plan to return the favor until the only thing she’s begging for me to do is make her come again.

27

Jackson

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