Page 34 of Bound

I open my mouth to askwhat lead?but I don’t get the chance.

Because then his lips are on mine again.

The shock of sensation is real and intense and makes my knees shaky. Jackson is kissing me. Jackson. Is kissing.Me. It’s too much to process and that’s not even bringing into account what I should be doing with my hands or my body or?—

God.

My lips.

I’m supposed to be doing stuff with my lips, with my tongue. All the really hot kissing in movies and in books involves tongue?—

Jackson lifts his head. “Kitty cat.”

I blink. “Y-yeah?”

“Close your eyes.”

God, I’m supposed to be doing stuff with my eyes too—namely not leaving them wide open as I stare at him incomprehensibly.

“Claire.”

I swallow hard, search for an escape. Because, fuck, this is too embarrassing. What I’ve revealed, what I’ve done. It’s too fucking much. I need the floor to open and swallow me up…or to find another way the hell out of this room. Thankfully, the fact that he’s wearing his hockey gear—most of it, anyway—gives me that escape.

“You need to get ready for the game.” I lift my head, check the time on my watch, feel my heart skip a beat or twenty. “It’s fifty minutes before game time,” I squeak. “You need your sandwich and?—”

His hand settles on my jaw again, and he tilts my head up, forcing my gaze back to his.

He doesn’t say anything, just studies me for a long moment.

Then he leans in again and even as I start to worry about what the hell I should be doing with my eyes, my hands, my body and lips and tongue, he bypasses my mouth.

Up. Up.

Above my lips. By my nose. Skipping my cheeks.

And…

Leans close, so close that my eyes close by instinct.

He presses a kiss to each lid.

I exhale, feel my body start to soften.

And then he’s running his hand up my side, making me shiver, making me melt against him. His mouth drags down my cheek, along my jaw, back behind my ear. “Shh, sweetheart,” he murmurs when a flick of his tongue has me squeaking and jumping against him. That sleek dart of damp heat comes again, and though I still jump, I relax faster, my hands settling on his chest without thinking, my nails digging in when he sucks lightly on sensitive spot near the hinge of my jaw.

He grunts.

“Oh,” I say, my eyes flying open, realizing I’m scratching him, that I’m hurting him.Shit. I start to pull back.

He clamps a hand over mine. “Don’t,” he orders softly. “I like it.”

“I—”

He nips at my bottom lip, making me squeak again. “Close your eyes.”

I should protest the command, should stop this.

But instead, I just keep my hands where they are and…I allow my lids to drift closed.

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