Page 37 of Inevitable Love
My fingers sink into his hair, and I’m holding on for dear life as he destroys me with a single kiss. My back arches, and he takes advantage, slipping his arm between my body and the cushion. He shifts on top of me, one leg sliding between mine, and I make space for him, lifting mine over his thigh. His hips thrust into me, and then he shifts closer for a heartbeat, before his weight completely disappears.
There’s a thump and the clatter of the table being knocked over. “Ow, fuck. Miscalculated the width of the couch.”
Rising on an elbow, I peer over the edge. Jackson’s stunned expression greets me, and I crack up. He tries to rise but bumps the table again, causing my glass of ice water to tip over, all over his bare torso, and he shrieks like a little girl.
I fall back to the couch in a fit of laughter. His chuckle starts slow and soft, threatening. A large hand clamps on my thigh, then he wrenches me off the furniture and onto him. He makes a bark of pain and roughly shoves me away. Bracing on my hands, I glower over at him as he curls in on himself as much as possible in the confined space, hands tucked between his legs.
“Did I…?”
“Knee. Balls,” he wheezes.
Don’t laugh at his pain, Magnolia.
But I can’t help it. A snicker slips out as I sit up with my back to the couch. “Are you okay?”
“Just. Need a minute,” he croaks, pale as a ghost and lying frozen on the floor.
When he’s recovered enough, he rolls to his back, legs splayed wide, arm flung over his face, and biceps standing out, begging to be traced with a fingertip. I shouldn’t do this. But being with Jackson is as natural as breathing. I’m tired of fighting how much I like him.
I know I’ll feel guilty later, and facing Alice will be hard. But god, do I want this night with Jackson.
“Feeling better?” I ask quietly.
He inhales and exhales slowly. The muscles in his chest flex; his abs ripple. He’s got the body of a god, as well he should, with the way he trains.
“Need me to kiss it and make it better?” Those shuddery words get the reaction I’m looking for, as his breathing noticeably changes, and he peeks over at me.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. It is your fault I’ve had a catastrophic injury.”
I snort and reach for the bowl of strawberries. “Here.” I pluck one from the bowl and lean over to bring it to his lips. “Peaceoffering.”
He bites the fruit, tongue barely grazing the edge of my finger, but it’s enough to shoot me right back to arousal.
Gripping the back of my neck, he pulls me on top of him. Careful not to further graze his tender sac, I slide my thigh over his hips and then sit up. “What can I do to help?”
His gaze heats as his eyes roam my form like he can see through my baggy sweatshirt.
“Put your hands on me, Mags.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you want. Just touch me. Please.”
If that heated look wasn’t enough, the need in his voice does it. Instant panty combustion.
Pushing aside any intimidation, I stroke two fingers down the valley of his chest, tracing the rise and fall of each spectacular set of muscles. His skin pebbles under my touch; his nipples grow taut. He’s still cool from the ice water, but the farther down his body I move, it becomes warm. His belly flexes as I trace the V that disappears into the loose waistband of his sweats.
Emboldened, I bring my other hand to his body, skimming up his sides, over his ribcage, circling the mounds of his shoulders. It’s an exotic combination of soft skin covering hard muscles. I want to trace each line and curve with my tongue.
He bends his knees behind me, pitching me forward, cradling me as I explore.
Dropping a hand to my hip, he squeezes that sensitive spot where my hip meets my thigh. I flex involuntarily, begging him to shift his thumb to the throbbing bundle of nerves between my legs. Instead, with a hand on my neck, he pulls me to his mouth.
There’s not a lot of room for us to move, wedged between the table and the couch, and it gives me an idea. Ibreak the kiss and taste the scruff along his jaw, the line of his collarbone.
I slide a leg backward, forcing him to move his out of my way.
“Where are you going?” he murmurs.
