Page 49 of Bad Behavior

15

Emma

Iglance at the clock on my bedside table for maybe the thousandth time. It’s 12:31 am, and I am sprawled on my bed, still waiting for Jameson. I’ve done everything I can to make the bedroom sexier… I’ve lit candles, shaved my legs again, and I even have a sexy playlist on repeat. All that’s missing is Jameson.

Tugging down the bottom of my black silk slip, I wonder when I should start thinking that he isn’t coming. I mean, he said he was going to come, but what if something happened? What if he had to deal with something at the bar that will keep him all night?

Or even worse, what if he changes his mind about wanting me? What if he did the math, and my brother’s stupid rule suddenly outweighs the desire Jameson feels for me?

Maybe I was stupid to stop him back there in the alley. It felt important then, but maybe it really was—

Thunk. The sound of the front door closing makes me jump. I sit up on my bed. Is it Jameson after all?

When I hear his heavy footsteps in the hall, slow and deliberate, goosebumps break out across my flesh. It’s him. He’s really here… and he’s coming for me.

I try to still my racing heartbeat, taking slow sips of air. The bedroom door slowly opens to reveal Jameson. He fills up the doorframe, in his leather jacket and dark jeans. His energy is brooding, almost angry… and it turns me on as much as it makes me nervous.

I feel his brown-black eyes staring me down, raking over every inch of me almost like a physical touch. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, he just stands there, looking at me. I want to cover myself, to hide from his gaze, but I don’t.

“You came,” I say, coming up on my knees.

“I shouldn’t have.” He grips the door frame while he just looks at me. His expression is that of a man who’s starving, who is desperate for something… and I’m chilled to think that what he’s desperate for is me.

“But you did.” He’s going to need some more convincing, it seems. I bite my lower lip and use two fingers to tug one of my slip’s straps over my shoulder, making eye contact with him the whole time. “Come here, Jameson. Touch me. Please.”

My heart is about to beat right out of my chest. He steps forward, closing the door with his foot.

Yes. I’m about to get what I want, finally.

Jameson takes off his leather jacket, slinging it aside. I move to the edge of my bed, more eager for him than I want to admit. He moves closer until we’re just a hair’s breadth apart, looking down at me, his dark eyes searching my face. He brings his face close to mine, avoiding my mouth, and whispers in my ear.

“You really want this?” he asks softly. My breath leaves me in a whoosh. His scruff touches my cheek.

I nod, swallowing. “I want you.”

He brushes my hair back with two fingers. Then he slides his big hand around my neck ever so slowly, and gives my neck a light squeeze.

“You know I won’t be gentle with you, right? I’ve thought about this too much, fantasized about you too often to go easy on you.” He turns his head ever so slightly, and places a single kiss on my neck.

I shiver convulsively, only able to nod. I have waited for him for years, There’s nothing that he could say that will make me change my mind.

He moves back to look at me, and I see the fire raging in his eyes. A fire that I feel too, a fire that could consume us both for all I care. His gaze drops to my lips, and I lean forward, lips parting. He moves to kiss me, his lips firm and demanding.

This is no peck on the lips. His tongue invades my mouth, sweeping and exploring. My tongue dances with his as I sigh and sink into it.

Curling my hand around the back of his neck, I reach out boldly with my free hand and grasp his hip. He allows it for a second, then breaks off the kiss and pushes me back onto the bed.

“Stay there,” he orders me.

He begins to undress, taking off his shoes, pulling his tee shirt off over his head. His torso ripples as he does, and I admire his light dusting of dark chest hair. He’s also got a trail of hair that leads down from his belly button and disappears into his waistband. His arms flex as he unzips his jeans, but he stops there.

I get a tantalizing peek into his unbuttoned pants as he comes closer, just for a second.

He moves onto the bed, kneeling at the end. He considers me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide what to do with me. “Come here.”

I shiver as I move closer, feeling like I’m under a microscope. He narrows his eyes and runs a single fingertip across my collarbone, down under the remaining strap of my slip. He draws the strap off of my shoulder, and then rolls the top of the slip down until my pink nipples are exposed to the air.

“I’ve imagined this a hundred times,” he says absently, his eyes fixed on my nipples. “But there is no comparison to the way you actually taste.”

---