Page 25 of Imagine Me and You

He laughed, the vibration hitting her between her legs. “I hope to make it out without getting a spear thrown at me.”

“Your laugh just did more for me than my first boyfriend could do with forty minutes and a vibrator.”

“Do you have a vibrator?”

“Not with me.”

“Damn.”

“Jace!”

“What?” he grinned, wicked, sexy. Oh, he was so sexy it hurt. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

“But you’re...straitlaced and tidy.”

“When it comes to cleaning house,” he said. “But I know how to get my hands dirty when I work. And I damn sure know how to get dirty in the bedroom.”

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her long and deep. He was the best kisser ever. It was official. She’d never enjoyed kissing so much. Because when it came right down to it, it was a little awkward and someone else’s tongue was in your mouth.

But with Jace...it wasn’t awkward. And she was happy to have his tongue in her mouth. More than happy.

He lowered his hands, gripped her thighs and pulled the heart of her harder against his denim-covered erection, still kissing her.

She pulled her mouth away, leaning back, trying to catch her breath, while he tried to prevent her from breathing by kissing a path from her neck to her collarbone.

He tugged her shirt up over her head and unclipped her bra. “Oh...yes.” He leaned down and drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

“Mmm” was the only noise she could make. It sounded sharp and kittenish and she didn’t care. He pinched her other nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and she made the sound again, kneading his back with her fingernail.

Poppy barked and they both froze.

They looked down at the dog, who was looking at them. “She thinks you’re hurting me,” Sam said, studying Poppy and feeling...embarrassed and somehow guilty for exposing her poor dog to her and Jace’s sexual activity.

Poppy wagged her tail and approached the couch. Jace stood, cupping Sam’s ass and holding her up against him. She flailed and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to keep herself steady.

“Mine,” Jace said, his voice almost a growl, the word directed very clearly at Poppy. “Stay down here and sleep on the couch if you want. I don’t care. But she is mine tonight, and you don’t get to interrupt.”

Sam squeaked when Jace turned and started walking them toward the stairs, pausing for a moment to kiss her again, quick and hard. “I’m not sharing,” he said, his tone hard.

It was so stupid, but she felt like swooning a little bit. Thank God he was carrying her because her knees had turned to jelly and she wasn’t sure she would be able to support her own weight.

But Jace could. He carried her up the stairs and she was surprised by how much of a turn-on it was. Such a cliché, but it made her so conscious of his strength and size, of how much of a man he was. Of how much of a woman she was.

He carried her down the hall and to his room, and when he opened the door she was assaulted by the strangest sense of familiar and new colliding. She’d been in Jace’s bedroom before. Lots of times. But she’d never been carried into his room and set down on the bed. She’d never been in his room while he waslooking at her like she was dessert and he was a very hungry man.

That was the real difference. She’d never been in his room when she was quite so conscious of the fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

A woman who wanted him. Very much.

There was something extra terrifying about the desire tearing through her because it was directed at Jace. And something comforting about it too.

The entire experience was an exercise in extremes. Good and bad. Terrifying and...well, terrifying. Because she’d never wanted a man like she wanted Jace right now. She’d never trembled with it, had never been so close to the edge from just kissing and a little touching.

He moved away from the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, his hands going to the buckle on his belt. She wanted to stop him. She wanted him to go faster.

Jace was a contradiction, like everything else about this situation. So familiar, yet a stranger. The lines on his face, a face she’d know anywhere, looked sharper, more drawn, his expression much more...dangerous than she’d ever seen it before.

And it was that combination, that contradiction, that thrilled her, that made her feel like she was going to die if he didn’t hurry up and take those jeans off. And a little like she might die when he did.

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