Page 11 of Unwrapping Spring Break

Part of me is in denial, but there’s also a part that calls myself an idiot, saying I deserve whatever I get. And, like the fool I am, I go with ignorance. I place my hands on her hips with every intention of removing her from my lap and placing her in the spot next to me. “I don’t know what you’re talking abo—”

Once again, she interrupts me. This time, with a kiss.

There’s no gentle touch of the lips. This kiss is meant to teach me a lesson I’ll never forget. It’s forceful and greedy. It’s needy and impulsive. My brain short-circuits from the electricity between us.

I can’t think of anything past the fiery passion in the press of her lips against mine. There’s nothing I can do but kiss her back with as much intention as she has.

I need her closer. After removing my hands from her hips, I reach above my head and press the button to raise the partition between us and the driver. Then, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, deepening the kiss. If the low moan that escapes her is anything to judge by, she has no desire to move away from me either.

Chapter Nine

Lily

Anunexpectedmoanfallsfrom my lips. He’sfinallytouching me. I can’t believe he didn’t fend me off. It was a risk climbing on top of him; I know that. He could have shoved me back to my side of the car. Covered his mouth with his hand or laughed at me. He could have done anything but let me kiss him. My heart races as he draws me closer to him.

His defense of my honor is a bit archaic and chauvinistic—I can defend myself, which clearly, I did—but I can’t deny it’s to protect me. Jax also made it extremely clear he would feel the same if he saw any woman being treated that way. He didn’t have to come to my rescue, but he did.

I’m grateful he did. Otherwise, I’d look like a fool for kissing him. I have him right where I want him—with his hands roaming down my back to cup my ass.

The passion that first began at the party is now a full-blown blaze. A sense of urgency surges through me in waves. Everywhere I touch him, heat radiates through my body. Especially below my waist. I thought I knew how much I wanted him, how much I want a taste. The act of kissing him is way more delicious than I imagined.

Judging by the bulge in his pants, he wants this as much as I do. His hands lift my ass a little as he pulls me forward. I gasp at the sensation, breaking our kiss. Desire pools in my belly, and I shift my hips forward to press against his length. He pushes back against me, matching the pressure, and our lips meet again.

We repeat the action once more, then I tighten my knees and thighs on either side of Jax, keeping myself steady. When a friend from college got married a couple of years ago, her bachelorette party was at The Twilight Club and included belly-dance lessons. Who knew that a single class could be applied to other sensual situations? Jax seems to appreciate it, though. His fingers dig into my flesh through my flowy skirt, which has ridden up to my midthigh.

He removes one of his hands from my ass and lazily caresses my thigh in a circular motion. I part my lips, and his tongue ever so gently grazes mine. He growls and deepens our kiss again when I don’t stop him. Inching his hand up my thigh, my core clenches at the mere thought of him touching me there. I can’t stop his hand, aching for his touch, when his thumb hits the damp spot on my panties. I groan, encouraging him to continue.

Suddenly, the car hits a bump in the road, and his thumb smashes against my clit when he grabs my leg. It jostles us out of the kiss, even while it bounces us against each other so much that we gasp from the abrupt shock. Unfortunately, the interruption brings us back to reality.

We’re both trying to catch our breath, and I’m afraid to speak. I don’t want to break what’s left of our moment. So instead, I close my eyes and rest my forehead against Jax’s.

His fingers relax their grip, but his thumb continues caressing my thigh in small circles. I love his touch. I want more of it; my body wants more. I’m lingering in what remains between us, languishing in the fog of passion that still sits heavy in the air, and I could stay like this forever. However, Jax has a different idea.

“This is going to kill me.”

His voice is dripping with desire and rougher than it usually is, as if there’s a purr or growl somewhere in there. I need more of this gravely, dangerous voice, but not on this topic.

I lift my head to look at him. “You mean my dad?”

“Yes, your father. He’d kill me if he knew I was this close to you.” He lets out a huff of amusement with a slight but wry smile. “What did you think I meant?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Nothing.” I sit back on his lap enough to cup his face with my hands. One thumb caresses his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath my touch. “Listen. My dad doesn’t run my life. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own damn decisions.”

Admiration shines in Jax’s eyes. It clouds the lust and desire, but they’re still beneath the surface. Obviously, he knows I am a woman, but this is the first time where it’s plain to see. He can look at me like that forever, turning my insides to mush.

“But he—”

I bring my finger to his lips to cut him off. “Doesn’t control me or my life. You are just going to have to accept that.”

For someone so bright, he’s having a tough time comprehending this. He blinks a couple of times, wrapping his brain around it. It’s adorable—keeping a man like him speechless. I take full advantage of this moment and kiss him again. Fortunately, he doesn’t need his brain for that, nor will he continue to argue with me. He returns the kiss with as much enthusiasm as before. This time, however, neither of us will let something as mundane as a pothole interrupt our fun.

His hand slides back up my thigh to my most sensitive spot. I moan when his finger presses the wet spot on my panties. As I grind my hips against him, he tilts his up to meet mine. It’s like we’re teenagers. We can’t get enough of each other.

A few minutes later, the car stops, and the driver gets out and knocks on the door. We’re more than a little rumpled when Jax opens it. We spill out of the car, not caring about our appearance. Laughter dances in our eyes and voices as we walk through the lobby, hand in hand. While we wait for an elevator, Jax kisses me, cupping my face.

His palms are surprisingly soft, contrasting his rough touch. I thought he’d have at least a couple of calluses. He seems like the type to do things himself. The more time I spend with Jax, the more he continues to surprise me.

Ding.

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