Page 21 of What Happens In Vegas: Jessa & Jaxon
“Why?”
“My boyfriend at the time had an associate’s degree. He started making comments when I got accepted into the program. Little things at first. Then he flat-out told me no man wants a woman more educated than him.”
Anger flares in my chest. “What an insecure jackass.”
“I believed him,” she admits softly. “For a while. I was ready to withdraw when my advisor called, asking why. That wake-up call made me realize I was choosing a mediocre man over my future.”
“I’m glad you chose your future.”
She looks up at me, something vulnerable in her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m destined to choose between career success and a relationship. Like I can’t have both.”
The thought of some insecure asshole making her doubt herself turns my blood to ice. I don’t know his name, but I want to find him and fuck him up.
“That’s bullshit,” I say firmly. “The right person won’t make you choose.”
Her eyes meet mine, searching. I cup her face, giving her time to pull away, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she closes the space between us and brushes her lips against mine.
My hand slides to the nape of her neck, holding her gently as our tongues meet. A quiet sound escapes her. Part sigh, part moan, and it sends an electric pulse to my groin.
“Say the word,” I whisper. “And I’ll step away.”
“Please,” she breathes. “Don’t.”
“Say it again.”
Her breath stutters. “Please—”
I catch her mouth with mine, claiming what’s already mine. This time, there’s no slow build, no testing the waters.
My hands explore the curves of her body as hers maps the muscles of my back. Every touch feels electric, charged by years of want finally finding release.
I trail kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips. Her head falls back, giving me access as her nails dig lightly into my shoulders. When my hand slips under her shirt, she gasps.
“Feels good,” she moans.
I lift my head to look at her, needing to see her face. Her eyes are half-closed, lips parted, hair pulled up in a loose bun. She’s beautiful—always has been—but like this, open and wanting, she’s breathtaking.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I confess against her skin. “Wanted you.”
I lean down, capturing her lips again. This time, the kiss is deeper, hungrier. Her body arches against mine as I press her into the cupboard. I can feel her heat, even through our clothes, and it drives me wild.
My hands slide down to her thighs, gripping them firmly before moving up to her ass. I squeeze, pulling her against me, grinding my hardness against her. She moans into my mouth, her nails digging into my back.
I break the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, her collarbone, her sternum. I lift her shirt, exposing her stomach, her ribs, her breasts. I take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hardening peak. She cries out, offering more of herself to me.
I lavish attention on her breasts, moving from one to the other, my hands kneading her flesh, my mouth sucking, my teeth nipping. Her breath comes in short gasps, her body writhing beneath me.
But I want more. I want to taste all of her.
Reaching for the waistband of her leggings, I pause to give her a chance to stop me. She doesn’t. Instead, she guides my hand as I roll her leggings and panties down her legs.
I take in the sight of her, completely naked, completely vulnerable, and bury my nose in her flesh. Her scent fills my lungs, musky and sweet, driving me insane.
I lift her onto the island, then slide onto the stool between her legs and place her knees on my shoulders. She watches me, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in short pants. I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. Then another higher up. And another, closer to her center.
Her hips lift, seeking my touch. I smile against her skin, enjoying her responsiveness. I run my hands up her thighs, brushing my thumbs against her folds.
