Page 17 of Jasper

I turn to him then, reaching for his arm. “It’s perfect, Jasper.”

“Really?”

“I’m just surprised is all.”

“You thought I’d be a total slob, didn’t you?”

“What? No.”

“You did.”

“You could be hiding the mess in your bedroom,” I say on a flirty shrug.

“I’m not.”

“Or more stuffed animals.”

“Definitely not.”

God, I’ve missed the easy, fun banter between us. Banter that always led to one or both of us missing clothes.

“If you don’t believe me, I can show you,” Jasper adds.

“You just want to get me in your bedroom,” I fire back with a half smile.

“And what if I do?”

My nipples tighten at the thought of tangling in the sheets of Jasper’s bed, our naked bodies intertwined once again after so long apart. Maybe this time, we won’t be interrupted before we can get all of our clothes off.

An urgent whisper in the back of my mind warns me this is a bad fucking idea. That if I’m not careful, one or both of us will end up hurt by the time the festival weekend is over. But that whisper isn’t nearly as loud as the thundering beat of my heart that begs for him to make good on his offer.

I reach a hand to his hip, stepping closer as my fingers dig in. “Thendoit.”

His lips descend on mine, the hunger nearly unbearable. It doesn’t matter that we made out on the beach or in his childhood bedroom yesterday. It feels as though lifetimes have passed since our lips last met. The kisses are brutally urgent. He pulls me tightly against him, and I can feel the hard length of him against my belly.

I moan, sliding my hand between us and cupping him.

“Fuck, Vanessa,” he growls between kisses.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Who?” Jasper asks. “Me, or my cock?”

I lock my gaze with his, so fucking turned on by the intense heat in those dark eyes. “Both.”

He grabs me by the ass, lifting both legs off the ground. I wrap them around his waist as he carries me down the hall to his bedroom. I have two seconds to notice it too is decorated in a similar theme as the rest of the house before Jasper drops me onto his bed.

He kneels in front of me, unbuttoning my jeans and tugging them off.

“We don’t have long if we want to catch the late-night sunset from my favorite hidden viewing spot,” he says, his gaze locked on my red silk panties. Did I wear them with him in mind? Maybe I did. “But we should have more time than last night.”

“You meanthisisn’t the sightseeing you had planned?” I ask, rolling my hips.

“Oh, it is,” he says, a wicked smile spreading across lips my own have branded. “Red was the color you were wearing the night we met.”

“You remember that?”

“Sweetheart,everyman in the bar that night remembers that. You were a fucking knockout in that little red dress. Don’t pretend you didn’t know that. You wanted attention, and you got it.”

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