by Carrie Elks
“I guess my favorite has to be Preikestolen in Norway. It’s like this big rugged cliff that juts out into the fjord. When you stand there looking out at the mountains and rocks surrounding it, and at the mist rising up from the water, you could almost be back in prehistoric times.” She reached for a blade of grass, pulling it from the ground and twisting it between her fingers. “If a dinosaur had walked along at that moment, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”
“You make it sound amazing,” Jackson said softly. “I’d love to see it.”
She lifted her gaze. There was something lazily seductive about the way he was staring at her.
“I’d like to take you,” she admitted. He’d make the perfect travel companion. Easy, fun, and so damn good to look at.
He handed her one of the wrapped burgers, his fingers brushing hers. A delicious pulse of electricity shot up her arm.
Suddenly she didn’t feel hungry at all. Not for food, anyway.
For a moment neither of them said a word. Her mouth felt dry, her chest tight, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away even if she wanted to.
“You should eat,” Jackson said, his voice thick.
Lydia nodded, unwrapping the burger. The bun was thick and soft, lettuce and tomato at the top. She lifted it to her mouth, managing a nibble before her stomach contracted in mutiny.
She put the burger back in its wrapper. “I’m sorry. I’m just not hungry.”
Jackson tipped his head. “I should have asked what you wanted to eat, instead of assuming. I guess burgers taste pretty average when you’ve eaten all over the world.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve longed for a real burger while I’ve been traveling,” Lydia admitted. “I love trying new food, and eating what the locals eat, but sometimes the lure of a patty can’t be ignored.”
“So why can’t you eat it now?” he asked. Even his voice sent a shiver down her spine. What the hell was wrong with her? She felt like some kind of giddy teenager, something she’d never been even when she was younger. Yet sitting here with Jackson Lewis was sending her body into a spin.
It was a delicious, exhilarating, nauseating ride.
She looked up at him through thick eyelashes. “It’s your fault,” she admitted. “You’re making my stomach flip.”
He stared at her curiously and put down his burger, gesturing for her to come closer. She scooted over, and he pulled her onto his lap, her back against his chest.
Flipping her hair over one shoulder, he brushed his lips against her neck. “Does that help?” he murmured softly.
That brief touch made her shiver. “Not really.”
He chuckled against her skin, kissing his way up to below her ear, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “How about this?” he asked, sliding his mouth to her jaw.
She wanted to turn, to capture his lips with hers, but he was holding her too tightly.
“Or this?” He ran his fingers through her thick hair, his gaze catching hers. His eyes were dark, needy, and sent a shot of electricity through her veins. Pushing the straps of her dress down past her shoulders, his fingers teased her skin as he pressed his warm lips against hers. He took his time as he kissed her, his movements slow and sure.
Excitement flooded through her veins. Making her nipples taut and her thighs ache. He lifted his hand to cup her chin, angling her head as he deepened the kiss. Her body felt boneless and hot, as though she was melting into him. His hand was tracing circles against her abdomen.
She could feel his excitement, too. Pressing against her as he moved his hands up her body, his fingers lightly brushing against her chest, making her nipples tighten and ache until she almost couldn’t stand it.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“Where?’
“Everywhere.” She couldn’t get enough of him. Of his lips, his touch, the sensations his fingers were creating everywhere they moved. Twisting in his arms, she turned until she was facing him, her bare thighs straddling his denim-clad legs. He slid his hands beneath her behind, pulling her closer, until she could feel him there, right where she needed him. So hard and hot and perfect.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, sliding his hand up her back until his fingers were wrapped around her hair, tugging gently until she exposed her neck to his kisses again.
Every touch, every kiss, felt like fire against her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing the short hair on the back of his head. God, he was a good kisser. Firm, yet soft and warm at the same time. And every time his tongue swept against hers, she moved against him, the pulse inside her strong and rhythmic.
He slid his hands beneath her dress, tracing circles on her bare back. His eyes met hers, and she could see the question in the depths. Nodding, she rotated her hips, encouraging his fingers as they slid beneath her panties.
It was crazy how excited she was, when they were both still fully clothed. Yet she could feel the pleasure coil inside her, growing every time their bodies touched.
“You’re wet,” he whispered in her ear, as his fingers feathered against her core.
“It’s your fault,” she gasped, and he laughed softly.
Sliding the soft pad of his finger inside, he found the sensitive part of her, circling until she let out a loud gasp. He smiled against her neck and circled again, making her almost buck off his lap.
“Does it feel good?” he asked.
“So good,” she gasped, barely able to form the words. Her world had shrunk to a pinpoint, focused only on his lips and his fingers, and that oh-so-hard part of him she couldn’t help but grind against.
Gently, he pushed his finger inside of her, and her toes curled with delight. She was on the edge, a heartbeat away from falling, as he pushed a second finger in, and her whole body exploded against him.
He captured her cries with his lips, one hand holding her steady as the other prolonged her pleasure, twisting and stroking inside her as she slowly came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, he was staring right at her, his expression a mixture of gratification and excitement.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “More than okay.” She traced her hand down his chest and ran her finger along the seam of his jeans, tracing the outline of his steel-like hardness. “Unlike you, by the feel of it.” She pressed a kiss against his lips. “I can help with that.”
“Later.” His eyes caught hers. “Not here. When we have sex, I don’t want it to be in the open where anybody can find us. I want to take my time with you. Strip you naked. Make you come until you can’t breathe anymore.”
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away. Damn, she really wanted to see what he had going on down there. From the outline she could see, there was quite a lot.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, making them both laugh. Any tension left between them dissolved into the air.
He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. “I guess now you’re ready to eat.”
As they drove back to Jackson’s house, the evening air rushed through the open car windows, lifting Lydia’s hair until it danced around her face. She was staring out at the ocean, the setting sun making her skin glow, making her look almost other-worldly.
Though his hard-on had thankfully abated, the memory of Lydia’s coming apart hadn’t. If he’d thought she was beautiful before, that was nothing compared to seeing her in mid-orgasm, her lips parted, her breath coming in pants, her body undulating against his until he’d coaxed every last ounce of pleasure from her.
“You sure you’re okay to come back to mine?” he asked, as he turned onto the main road into Angel Sands. “You don’t have to.” He didn’t tell her she didn’t owe him anything, but it was implicit in his words. Of course he wanted her – what red blooded man wouldn’t – but he didn’t want her to feel any pressure just because he’d made her come. It was completely up to her.
“Of course I want to come back to yours. After what you promised…” her voice trailed off.
She gave him a dirty smile that sent his pulse rating. “And anyway, I want to see Eddie.
“Eddie,” he repeated. “Shit. I’m supposed to pick him up from my dad’s.”
“I love your dad. He’s fun.”
“Do you mind if we stop at his on the way? It’ll only take a minute.”
“Sure,” she agreed readily. “Let’s do it.”
Ryan Lewis still lived in Jackson’s childhood home, on the edge of Angel Sands. He’d bought the bungalow soon after he’d started working at Newton Pharmaceuticals. Back then, Jackson’s mom had been a homemaker, though his abiding memory of her was sitting out in the yard with a cigarette in her hand as she dangled her toes into their small swimming pool.
More often than not, it had been Ryan who cooked dinner when he got home from work. And Ryan who would sit with Jackson when he did his homework, or when they would watch sports together on the television.
Parking on the sidewalk outside of his dad’s bungalow, Jackson walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for Lydia. He took her hand in his, and walked with her up the pathway.
Before they even made it to the steps, Ryan opened the door, his brows lifting as he glanced at their clasped hands.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Eddie came bounding out, leaping at Lydia, his tail wagging with excitement.
“Eddie, come here,” Ryan shouted. Eddie ignored him completely, jumping up and down, and doing a little dance at Lydia’s knees.
“Eddie, sit,” Jackson said firmly. When Eddie went to jump again, Jackson repeated himself, and Eddie dropped his rear to the ground, his eyes rolling at Jackson.
“Can you talk to me like that later?” Lydia whispered to him. Jackson laughed.
“Did you two lovebirds have a good evening?” Ryan asked.
“It was perfect,” Lydia said, smiling warmly at Jackson’s dad. “Jackson taught me to drive, and then we went to Captain Burgers and up to the cliff at Silver Cove.”
“The hot and heavy make out spot?” Ryan’s eyes crinkled as he looked at Jackson. “Surely you have better moves than that, son?”
“It wasn’t a move,” Jackson told him. “It has a good view.”
“Sure.” Ryan nodded. “And people only watch porn for the storyline.”
“People?” Jackson snorted. “Or you?”
“Hey, I don’t watch that kind of thing.” Ryan held his hands up. “And I don’t take pretty ladies to the cliff to make out either.”
“Who said we made out?” Jackson asked.
“Oh, we definitely made out,” Lydia said, as though she was enjoying the banter between father and son. “I like it up there. I’d go again.”
Ryan chuckled. “Jackson, you gotta keep ahold of this one. I like her.”
Jackson swallowed hard, because there was no way to keep ahold of her.
“We should go,” he said to Lydia. “It’s getting late.”
“You sure you two don’t want to come inside?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe next time,” Jackson said, certain he didn’t want to be anywhere except at his own house. With her.
“I’d love that.” Lydia smiled at his dad, who grinned back at her. It was weird how them liking each other made his body feel warm.
“Well, you two kids have fun. And be good.”
Once they’d gotten Eddie into the backseat, Lydia and Jackson climbed into the car for the short drive up to his cliff-side home. The pleasure he’d felt from watching his dad and Lydia interact was still lingering, making his lips curl up into a permanent smile.
“Can I ask you something?” Lydia said, as they drove back up into the hills.
“Sure. Shoot.”
“Has your dad dated since your mom left?” Her voice was soft, as though she wasn’t sure whether to ask or not.
“No.” Jackson blew out a mouthful of air. His dad’s lack of moving on had long been a source of contention for them both. “I think he’s still holding a candle for my mom after all these years.”
She looked thoughtful. “My dad’s the same. Since mom died he hasn’t dated anybody. Not publically anyway. I mean, he has to have been seeing somebody, you can’t go twenty years without sex, can you?”
Jackson wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. And I guess I don’t want to know what my dad gets up to.”
Lydia laughed. “He’s definitely had sex before. Where do you think you came from?”
“I know where I came from.” Jackson shook his head at the amusement in her voice. “But I don’t really want to think about it. Those kind of mind movies can get stuck in your head, and I’m not ready to deal with that.”
“I bet your dad’s good in bed.”
“Lydia!” His eyes widened. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“Hear me out. He’s a nice guy. Wants to make people happy.” She bit her lips to stop herself from grinning. “Kind of like his son. And since I know you have all the skills, maybe he does, too.”
“You think I’m nice?” Jackson winced at the word.
Her eyes narrowed as she took him in. “Hmm. I guess I think you can be nice. You were nice to me this evening. Took me driving and bought me dinner.”
“For ten dollars. You weren’t exactly an expensive date.” He rolled his eyes.
“But other times you’re not so nice. You were short with me when you drove me home from the airport on Saturday. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
He shook his head. “I was fighting the attraction. Trying to do what Griff asked me.”
Lydia sighed. “Let’s hope he’s stopped trying to interfere with my love life.” She ran her finger over her bottom lip, and it made him want to kiss her again. “So you’re not nice when you’re fighting the attraction to me, but you are nice when you give in to it. Do I have that right?”
He snorted. “Pretty much.”
She clapped her hands together. “That’s simple. Stop fighting it. Be nice to me.” Reaching out, she traced the seam of his jeans along his inner thigh. Damn, her touch felt good. “The way you were nice to me when we were kissing on the cliff.”
“Nice is a weak word.” Her finger moved up further. He was torn between wanting her to carry on and wanting to keep his concentration on the road. Good thing they were almost home.
“Tell me a better one,” she whispered.
He swallowed, turning onto the road leading to his house. “I desired you. Needed you. Wanted to make you feel things you hadn’t felt before. I wanted to see you come apart in my arms, and hold you until you could breathe again. I wanted to kiss you until our lips hurt, until we had to pull apart because we need air like we need each other.” He turned left into his driveway, parking in the usual spot. Switching the engine off, he turned to her, a half-smile on his face. “How’s that?”
She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah,” she said, her voice ragged. “That’ll work.” She looked from the house and back to him. “Let’s go in. I’m ready for you to show me exactly how un-nice you can be.”
14
Jackson filled a bowl with water and threw a treat into Eddie’s waiting mouth. “You need to stay down here, boy,” he told him, when Eddie barked indignantly at Jackson walking out of the kitchen. “This is adult business.”
Eddie buried his head in the water bowl, but let his tail hang down so Jackson knew he was pissed. It was okay, Jackson would make it up to him. Maybe take him for an extra long walk in the morning. They could both go for a swim.
He’d think about it later, when his brain was working properly, and not full of the gorgeous woman waiting for him.
“Is he okay?” Lydia asked when Jackson walked back into the hallway. She was leaning against the wall, her hands clasped behind her. She’d kicked off her shoes, and he noticed her toes were painted the same color as the cherry blossom on her tattoo.
“He’s fine. Sulking because he wants to play.”
Her eyes twinkled. “He needs a girl dog.”
&nb
sp; “No, he really doesn’t.” Jackson shook his head. “A litter of baby Eddies is the last thing we need.”
She laughed. “Well, I guess he’ll have to sulk for a minute.”
“A minute?” Jackson frowned. “What do you take me for?”
She smiled coyly. “I was just checking.” And flirting. Damn, was she good at it. He’d never been one for banter before. Or for spending hours talking to a woman. But with her, it felt so natural.
He liked it almost as much as he liked touching her.
He walked over to where she was standing, until there was just a breath of air between them. She looked up, her green eyes dark, her lips parted.
He was already hard. From the closeness of her and the memory of her on the cliff, when she’d rode his fingers as he’d brought her to climax. “I should take your jacket,” he said. She nodded and he reached for the denim, lifting it from her shoulders. Her silky hair brushed against his hands as he took it from her, hanging it from the hook on the other side of the wall.
“Come here,” he said, his voice thick. She stepped away from the wall, her wide eyes still on his. Curling his palm around her neck, he caressed her skin with his fingers, making her swallow hard.
“Jackson?”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t done this in a while.” She looked uncharacteristically nervous. “Just so you know.”
His expression turned serious. “Neither have I.”
“You haven’t?” Her voice rose up. “I thought you were Jackson, the ladies’ man. The player.”
His heart was hammering. He didn’t want her to see him that way. “I’m mostly Jackson, the overworked company owner nowadays,” he told her, threading his fingers into her hair. He massaged her scalp, and she let out a sigh.
“That sounds stressful,” she murmured, as he slid his hand down to the small of her back, gathering her into his arms.
“It is.” He lowered his face to hers. “So stressful…”
She was watching him intently. “You must need some relief.”
Reaching up, she cupped his jaw, her fingers splayed out across his cheek. His hands explored the hollows of her back, wanting to commit every dip and curve to memory. She pressed her body against his, making him ache and pulse against her.