Page 68 of Bookworm and the Beast
Oh, I was in deep with that last one. Now that Jack had stopped treating me like I was dipped in Ebola virus, I’d been getting to know the real him. And I liked him.
Reallyliked him. I got the feeling he liked me, too.
Every night after dinner, he walked me up to my room. And kissed me goodnight. Kisses that lasted progressively longer each night and had begun to resemble full-intentioned foreplay more than farewell gestures.
Tonight was the most intense yet.
It started with Jack telling me hereallyneeded to get “right upstairs and write” and was followed by long minutes of kissing and touching and generally torturing each other by stoking the coals of desire until we were both on fire and gasping for breath.
I was squirming with sexual frustration and ready to drag him over the threshold into my room.
Unbuttoning his shirt had given me access to his enticing chest and abdomen, but it wasn’t nearly enough. I was going to die if I didn’t get to feel all of him against all of me withallof our clothes off.
I needed him fully on top of and inside of me.
“Won’t you come in tonight?” I pleaded, grasping the open sides of his button-down. “Or we could go to your room."
Or lie down right here on the hallway carpet and get busy.I wasn’t picky.
Jack’s eyes sparked with heat. “I’d love to. I want to.”
“Then why don’t you?”
He chuckled. “I don’t want our first time to be a quickie. And I really do have to write. I shouldn’t have spentthislong away from the book tonight. Hell, I should have had a turkey sandwich at my desk. But you’re irresistible, like a siren luring me into the depths.”
“If singing will get you into my bed, I’ll sing. And I hate singing.” I would have doneanythinghe asked in that moment.
Tilting my head to the side, I offered my most alluring doe-eyed smile. “Just give me a microphone, and I’ll hitallthe right notes.”
I curved my hand over the bulge in his pants. “Just for a minute? A minute or two won’t hurt anything.”
Jack laughed, shaking his head in a scolding way as he removed my fingers from his erection and instead slid his hand beneath my dress and cupped me between my legs. He leaned in close to my ear, filling it with his hot breath and even hotter words.
“The things I want to do to you will takemuchlonger than a minute or two. I’m not sure a whole night’s worth of minutes would cover it.”
Instantly I went wet, and he felt it, hissing as if burned.
“Please Jack,” I whispered nudging further into his hand. “Look what you did to me. I need you. I’m aching.”
Though it was cool in the hallway, a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, and the tops of his cheeks flushed with color.
Without a word, he used his free hand to tug at the strap of tonight’s dress selection—the cut of which had required me to go braless underneath—and gave a low hum of approval as my bare breast was exposed.
His large hand covered it entirely, and he rubbed in a slow circle as his other hand delved beneath the waistline of my panties.
It was a good thing I was leaning against the wall because I was pretty sure my backbone turned to liquid.
Jack’s mouth went to the side of my neck, and he worked his way down the curve to my shoulder with wet kisses and soft bites and the occasional rasp of his beard while his fingertips teased my nipple into a tight, aching bud. He bent, and his lips took over for his hand, sucking the straining peak into his silky hot mouth. His tongue swirled around and across the sensitive tip, eliciting shivers and moans I was powerless to control.
Wrapping my arms around his head, I sank my fingers into the soft hair and held on for dear life as he moved to the other breast.
All the while his fingers played with me, teased me, opened me with gentle exploration that had me gasping and writhing like some kind of wild creature.
Ifeltwild. And I’d been wrong. Mind-blowing sex wasn’t just a thing found in fiction.
We hadn’t even done “the deed” yet, and already this was the best sex of my life. I was on the verge of orgasm when Jack dropped to his knees and pushed up my dress.
He yanked at my panties—also courtesy of one of Eastport Bay’s posh boutiques. They were high-cut and red, and I’d sworn I’d rather die than wear them when I’d first extracted them from the shopping bag. My how things changed.
