Page 122 of S is for SEX

EX-CON

(Selected Sinners MC Romance Book V)

EMILY

June 13, 2006

We had ridden for some time, and the air cleaner never rattled. After a long period of wondering when we might stop, Jackson pulled over for a cup of coffee. We relaxed outside Starbucks in the early evening’s blazing sun, watching people walk in and out and talking about everything under the sun.

Everything except whether or not we were making progress toward a relationship.

As I baked in the sun and sipped my glass of mango tea, he sat in his chair and quietly watched people pass. I watched him intently as he studied the people coming and going, but I couldn’t tell what he was looking at unless he made a comment about it. Knowing what he was thinking was another thing altogether, he was impossible to read. As I sat and waited for the next word to spring from his lips, it became very apparent I wanted more from him.

Much more.

“I don’t like not seeing your eyes,” I said under my breath without looking up from my glass of tea.

“Too fucking sunny to take ‘em off,” he said as he waved his hand toward the western sun.

I nodded and gazed down at my glass.

He tilted his head in my direction.

“You ready?” he asked.

I nodded my head reluctantly, leaned forward, and sucked the remaining iced tea through my straw. Still slightly disappointed at our lack of progress, I stood from my seat, grabbed my empty glass, and turned toward the trash can. As I walked toward the corner of the building, the sound of motorcycles caught my attention, and I shifted my eyes toward the noise and out into the street. Two men wearing leather vests similar to Jackson’s were slowing down in traffic to enter the parking lot. I tossed my empty cup into the trash and quickly turned around.

Although I hadn’t realized it, Jackson somehow had positioned himself immediately behind me. As I turned to face him, he reached up, gripped my neck lightly, and pushed me into the wall of windows which separated the patio area from the inside of the coffee shop. With my back pressed firmly to the glass and his hand gripping my neck, he pushed his sun glasses on top of his head and leaned in for a kiss.

I opened my mouth slightly and waited, feeling like a complete novice and hoping my knees would continue to hold me up. This was at least one of the moments I had been waiting desperately to arrive, but for some reason I had no idea what to do, and time seemed to be standing still.

Our lips finally met, and as they did I closed my eyes. He kissed me aggressively, pressing himself against me fully as his tongue explored my mouth. He kissed me deeply and passionately, biting my upper lip each time he pulled away for another breath. The waiting for this moment and the weeks of longing for his embrace all came rushing from me in an instant, and as all of the uncertainty of the first kiss escaped me, my pussy began to throb.

His free hand gripped my butt cheek and his fingertips sank deep into the skin of my inner thigh. My entire body started to tingle as I fought to stay on my feet. My head started to spin, my stomach went into a mild frenzy, and he continued to kiss me as passionately as I had always expected women in some corner of the world were being kissed by someone who loved them.

But that person had never been me.

As the passage of time slowed to a point that seconds seemed like a lifetime, our mouths parted. He bit my upper lip lightly and released it. I opened my eyes and glanced upward. As our eyes met, he narrowed his slightly, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. His hand still gripping my neck, he squeezed with a little more force as if to remind me he was the one in charge.

He leaned back and studied me.

“God damn, Killer, get a fuckin’ room,” a voice behind me growled.

Still gazing into my eyes, he lifted his free hand in the air as if to silence his friend. As they stood at our side staring, his eyes never shifted away from mine. His intensity was apparent, and it was ten-fold of what I had previously witnessed. He tightened his grip on my neck and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

He released my neck and slid his hand upward slowly. As the web of his hand met my chin, he squeezed ever so slightly, resting his thumb along my jaw and his index finger on my cheek. As he lightly tapped the tip of his finger against my face, his eyes widened a little.

“You’re mine,” he breathed.

The moment I waited for was upon me. I had considered all of the possibilities of when and where it might happen, and rehearsed what I would say and do when the time arrived that he realized we were going to take the next step. At that moment, as I gazed into his eyes, my mind was blank and I was an emotional disaster. Incapable of speaking, I swallowed heavily and simply nodded my head.

“Mine,” he repeated as his finger tapped lightly against my cheek.

My eyes fell closed and I nodded my head in agreement, satisfied I was nothing less than his. As I felt the tip of his finger tracing along my jaw, I wondered what was next. Where I was and who I was surrounded by mattered not one bit. As the anticipation of what was to come built inside of me, his hand gripped my neck once again and he pushed me into the glass.

As he pressed his lips against mine, my mind drifted away. At that moment, as he kissed me, I knew very little, but I knew one thing for certain.

He was absolutely right.

And as odd as it might have seemed to a conventional woman, Jackson had somehow taken ownership of a very large portion of my heart.

And nothing else mattered.

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