“But I will,” he responded tersely.
God, how was it possible to go from hopeful to hurt in five short minutes? Why did she have to doubt his intentions, his feelings? Why did she doubt herself? She shut the door of the truck a bit harder than necessary, her anger at herself and at Jack taking hold, and stalked toward the street door for her upstairs apartment. With a violent flick of her wrist, she pushed it open and started up the stairs, Jack following closely on her heels.
“Jem! Wait. What’s wrong?”
She didn’t dare meet his eyes, so she concentrated on climbing, trying to get away from his questions. It would hurt too much to admit she had read more into their outing than he intended. God, she was a hopeless, silly fool. She turned to face him once she reached the landing in front of her door.
“Nothing’s wrong. What could possibly be wrong?”
“It’s just…you seem…angry. I thought the evening was going great. I mean, you were laughing and enjoying the time with the kids, with me. You flirted outrageously with me most of the night. And, yes, I recognized the difference between flirting and teasing. Then suddenly, it was like someone flipped your switch off. What happened? Are you mad at me?” he asked, his eyes were a shade of aquamarine she hadn’t seen before.
“No.”
“You’re upset about something. Tell me,” he said, softening his tone, but the command still stung.
Jem turned away and attempted to jab her key in the lock with shaking hands. “I don’t know, Jack. Was my flirting so awful? Did it make you uncomfortable? Why did you withdraw?” she demanded.
“Me?” Jack asked incredulously. “That was not me withdrawing. Holy hell! You were flirting so outrageously with me. I’m not going to lie—I loved the attention.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” Jem kept her back to Jack, her gaze glued to the door, uncomfortable with the emotions screaming through her. “You stopped talking to me before the third period started. You and Mason came back from the bathroom, you kissed me, then completely shut down. I thought we were having a good time. I don’t have a clue what I did wrong. But you stopped talking, so I stopped. And now I’m mad.”
“At me?” He grasped her elbow, turning her to face him.
“Yes.” She forced her gaze to his face, but dropped her eyes immediately. “But I’m mad at me, too. For whatever I did to mess things up tonight.”
Jem shook off his hand, dropping her keys as she did. Jack stooped down to grab them and pocketed them as he stood back up to face her.
“Give me my keys. It’s late, I’m tired and I’m done.”
“I’m not.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sugar, you didn’t do a damn thing wrong. God, you were perfect. I loved watching you with the kids. You were comfortable and easy, you know…friendly. Without forcing it, the way other women—other adults—do.” He put a finger hand under her chin and lifted, searching her face, as if looking for an answer when he wasn’t sure of the question. “Holy cow, Jem, when you flirted with me, each touch, every brush of your leg against mine, every single glance drove me a little crazier. Seeing what I saw in your eyes, believing you might want me the way I want you, made me physically uncomfortable. I was scared to death Mason was going to say something about my, um, state of excitement, while we were in the bathroom. Curious five-year-olds don’t have a lot of filters.” He chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “Can you imagine the looks the other fathers in there would have given me if Mason said anything along the lines of ‘Oh, BC, you have a great big woody.’ I needed to shut it down. Hard. That’s why I pulled back. Not because of anything you did.”
“Oh,” Jem whispered, hope growing.
“Yeah. Oh. I couldn’t look at you without wanting to touch or taste or wrap my arms around you.”
“So do you?” Jem smiled coyly at him.
“Huh?” Jack’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“You know…have a great big woody?” Jem clapped her hand over her mouth, unable to believe those words had slipped out.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I thought, um, it seemed like… I mean, the only thing I didn’t do was grab your belt buckle and pull you against me. It seemed to me you were trying to figure out how to politely decline my invitation.”
Jack’s dimples made an appearance as he smiled a slow, sexy smile, taking a step closer to her. “Grab me now. I can guarantee there won’t be any declining.”
Jem gasped at the heated look on his face, hesitating only a heartbeat before reaching toward Jack and grabbing his belt. She had barely exerted any pressure to pull him in her direction when she found herself engulfed in his embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his lips igniting a flame deep within. She tasted him as his tongue swept into her mouth. Delicious, like the chocolate they’d shared. Salty, too, from the peanuts they’d eaten. His lips were firm and demanding and she responded in kind. Jack groaned as he took both of them even deeper into the kiss with an intensity that lit her fever.
Jem wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, running her hands frantically through his hair, grasping the back of his head, pulling him even closer. The strength of his hard chest against her breasts, her thighs pressed to his, hips rubbing against his heavy arousal, inflamed her. He dropped his hands to her derriere, cupping and lifting her against his hips as he pushed his thigh between hers. She was on fire. He groaned again as she moaned and moved hard against his invading thigh.
His lips bruised and crushed hers as they continued, the kiss promising heaven. Jem thrust her tongue into Jack’s mouth, exploring a bit, before he chased it back to her mouth with his. Once there, his heart raced against her breasts as her lips closed around his tongue and sucked hard to pull it deeper. She wanted him and she wasn’t afraid to show it. Her lingering doubt vanished as Jack accommodated her demand, reaching toward the back of her throat, toward her heart.
He pushed Jem’s body with his own until her back was against the door, her lips held by his, her body pinned by his larger, much harder one. While he held her there, he ground his hips against her, letting her know without speaking how much he wanted her, wanted to bury himself deep within her right this moment. And she wanted to watch his eyes as he took her with him.
Jem finally broke the kiss. “Oh my God! Oh my God,” she said, losing herself in the crazy hot desire in the blue flame of his eyes.
Jack breathed hard, each quick inhalation causing his chest to surge against hers. She struggled for some sense of control of the passion she found with him.
“Are we doing this? Please. God, please, sugar. Say we are. I’m afraid I’ll explode if you just politely tell me good night. Don’t let this end here,” he insisted as he ran his hands through her curly ponytail and stared into her eyes.
Jem pulled his head toward her in a much gentler kiss, tenderly grazing his lips with her teeth before nipping softly. His moan made her smile. She kept up her gentle teasing as he whispered against her mouth.
“Invite me in, Jem. Let me come in.”
He jumped and moaned again as she worked her arm between their bodies. Jem’s lips stilled on his as her hand found its target. Her eyes flew open as she felt the length and weight of him. Her hand covered him, shyly exploring his full arousal, molding around him.
“Oh, yeah, right there.” He groaned, his hips thrusting. Sweat beaded on his forehead while he held his breath, his eyes scrunched closed when she touched him. He opened his eyes and she could see his hopes, his heat.
She held his gaze and moved her fingers, dipping them into the front pocket of his jeans. She grabbed her keys and pulled them slowly out. Bringing her hand up to his eye level, she had the keys hooked on her index finger and bared her teeth in what she hoped was a sinfully inviting smile.
He pulled the key ring off her finger, but replaced it with the circle of his lips, sucking the digit into his mouth, keeping his eyes on hers as he leaned back slightly, letting his t
ongue circle her fingertip, then push forward again. Zeroing in on the sensation his warm mouth created, she lost focus on everything else. Until he pulled her hard against his hips, pushing his hard arousal toward her as he inserted the key in the lock and twisted it. Even as he turned the knob to open the door, his tongue still circled her finger, drawing it deeper into his mouth.
The door opened and he lowered his large hands to her butt and nudged her through the entry. He released her long enough to flip the light switch, the floor lamp creating a soft glow in the corner of the living room. Using his foot, he shut the door behind them and reached around, locking it securely. He finally released her finger to press his firm lips to hers.
Unzipping her leather jacket, he ran his hands upward. Heat zinged her as he grazed her breasts and reached inside to bare her shoulders. The jacket hit the floor with a quiet thud. Grabbing the bottom of her sweatshirt, he broke their kiss long enough to pull it over her head, then reclaimed her lips. When he probed her mouth with his tongue, sliding firmly over hers, she adjusted her hold on his shoulders, grasping his jacket and pulling him closer as her knees started a slow melt.
Jem pulled at the snaps holding the bottom of his heavy canvas jacket until they popped open. Taking her time, she explored the hard, muscular planes of his chest to his shoulders, until she finally pushed the jacket down his arms. Releasing her hips long enough to allow his coat to fall to the floor, he huffed out a breath, a soft, frustrated sound. The instant his arms were free, he reached for her again.
He tangled one hand on the clasp holding her hair in a tidy ponytail and worked the release, letting her curls tumble free, pulling her hair through his hands, wrapping coils of it around his fingers. He combed through the length of it, then rested his hands on her hips, his thumb rubbing sensuously across her tattoo. He grasped the sides of her face, holding it in place as he pulled a scant inch back to look at her.
“Open your eyes, Jem. Look at me.”
She opened them and he was close enough to see flecks of white buried in the depths of his cobalt eyes. Dropping one hand to her hip, he rubbed her cheek with the thumb of his other hand.
“The day I met you, I discovered something intriguing about you. I’ve fantasized about this moment ever since.”
He knelt down in front of her, sat back on his heels and pulled her between his open thighs. Holding her gaze, he opened the button at the top of her jeans and slid the zipper down. Pushing aside the fabric covering her left hip, he licked his lips and pulled his gazed away from hers to stare intently at the colorful brand there. He traced it with the tip of his finger, before putting his mouth to it.
Sharp, searing heat weakened her knees and she gasped as his tongue traced what his finger had already learned. She struggled to think coherently while he used his clever lips and tongue to caress the intertwined black-and-green vines tattooed in a circle. She might have melted in a boneless pool right in front of him, except he wrapped an arm around her legs, supporting her and holding her in place. Dropping her hands to his broad shoulders, she flexed her fingers in sturdy muscles as he continued his exploration. He used one hand to hold the fabric of her jeans, granting better access for his lips, and his fingers slipped under the lace of her panties.
She watched the top of his head until his teeth replaced his tongue, softly biting the skin on her hip. She shivered as desire speared up her spine. Throwing her head back, she breathed his name in a hard exhalation. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, drawing his eyes to hers. The molten heat and desire in his eyes captivated her, sending her own desires spinning wildly, like a vortex. The moment stretched out into what seemed liked hours of heat and eroticism.
He rose up along her body. His lips traced her torso, his fingers snagging the bottom of her t-shirt, pushing it upward, drawing the soft cotton over her head and tossing it toward the sofa before running his hands wildly, sensuously over her body. Jack slid his fingers under her lacy bra, finding her taut, sensitive nipple, making her moan. In an instant his mouth replaced his fingers while his hand sought her other breast.
He pulled away but continued to caress her as he pressed his mouth against hers.
His lips moved on top of hers, asking something. She still reveled in the incredible sensation of his mouth on her tattoo. The effects of his lips and hands on her heated skin left her dazed as she returned his kiss. He chuckled softly as he framed her face with his hand, demanding her attention.
“Come on, sugar. Focus for a second here,” he said in a smoky, lust-fueled voice.
“I’m trying, but you keep doing incredible things with your lips, then pulling away,” she said, breathing hard. “Can’t you just shut up and keep kissing me?”
“I think the appropriate response to that is ‘my pleasure.’ But I have to know how this works. I mean, what do I do next?”
Jem stiffened as his words penetrated her foggy brain. Her eyes snapped into focus as she looked at the angles and planes of his face. “How can you not know what comes next, Jack?”
Jack shook his head and laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I know what comes next and I’m eagerly anticipating it.”
“Well, good then. Get busy and give me a demonstration, please.”
He lowered his head and reclaimed her lips. Moist heat between her legs lit a conflagration when he brought his hand to back to her breast, testing its weight, stroking his thumb across her taut nipple through the soft lace of her bra.
She kissed him for several long moments before breaking away. “I guess you do know what comes next,” she whispered.
“Yeah, but can we get serious for a second, please?” He tasted her lips again. When he finally reclaimed his tongue from her mouth, he continued. “You mentioned you had certain issues because of your claustrophobia. I don’t want anything to make you uncomfortable during…”
“Oh, God. You remember that?” Jem asked, the smile leaving her face as she gazed at his. This incredible man was concerned about her comfort, about creating an experience she could enjoy without fear of her phobia roaring its ugly head at an inopportune moment.
No doubt about it. She was smitten.
“You’ll tell me, right? If you need space, or if you can’t breathe, or something. I mean if you need to be on top, or whatever, I can live with it.” Jack searched her face, waiting for her response.
She smiled, aiming for seductive, but pretty sure she’d only achieved a big dopey grin. “I don’t have to be on top, but I don’t mind if I am. Yeah, actually, I’m really good with being on top. I’m good on the bottom too, if you prefer. I can go either way, or we can try both ways.”
“The same time, or do I get two shots at it?” Jack asked, humor lighting his face.
“Oh, I’m a purist. I don’t think we should mix positions. So, you’ll probably get at least two chances at it. In the name of science experiments, you know.” She laid her palm over his heart, feeling the strong steady pulse through the hard muscle there. “Here’s the deal. If—and it’s a big if that it will even happen—but if I start to experience any anxiety, I’ll ask you to wait a second. All you need to do is pull away a bit to relieve the pressure on my chest. I mean, only pull away your upper body, cuz, you know, if we’re already joined at the hip, so to speak, I don’t think either of us would appreciate ending that contact. If it’s strong, if I feel an attack coming on, I’ll tell you to stop. I’ll have to trust, and hope, you’re willing to move completely off me if I have to ask, regardless of where we are, um, in the process. It never lasts long. I just have to catch my breath, you know.”
“You say the word, sugar. I move back, no questions. I hope you know you can trust me,” he said, brushing his fingers against her cheek.
“I do trust you. So why don’t you just come with me down this short hallway and pick it up where we left off?” Jem smiled at him, grabbed his hand and led the way to her bedroom.
She pulled him through the doorway, flipping a wall switch to illuminate the lamp
by bed. Catching sight of the twin bed in the corner of the room, she stopped abruptly. She hadn’t been able to make herself sleep in Caro’s queen-size bed in the master bedroom yet. But, as she looked over her shoulder at the large man standing behind her, then back to her narrow bed, she wasn’t sure the close confines would be very comfortable.
Then Jack put his arms around her waist, turning her toward him, enveloping her in a soul-searing kiss. The warmth of his hands on her bare flesh made her forget to be concerned.
She went to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling it impatiently out of the waistband of his pants as he tried to help her remove her jeans. Their arms kept tangling, until Jem laughed and moved back, toed off her shoes and pushed her jeans down, stepping out of them to stand before him in just her bra and panties.
Jem smiled at the clear appreciation in Jack’s eyes as she reached behind her to unfasten her bra. The action lifted her breasts as she arched to reach the clasp and he gasped, his eyes riveted by the motion, his hands frozen on the buttons on his shirt. She shook the straps off her shoulders allowed the sweet purple bra to drop. Lowering her hands to the lace on her panties, she pushed the silky scrap down her hips to kick it off.
The moment stretched to eternity as Jem waited for Jack’s response. He stood there, perfectly still, as if hypnotized. Only his eyes moved as they continued to rove over her body, sweeping from her bright pink toenails to the top of her head before leisurely returning along the same path. Suddenly uncomfortable with her nudity in his fully clothed presence, doubt rose with the blush blooming in her cheeks. She shifted from one foot to the other, crossing her arms in front of her body, as if to shield it from his unresponsive view.
“No, don’t.” He surprised her with his immediate reaction to her movement. “Don’t move. Let me look at you. Holy Christ, you are gorgeous. I wish I knew how to paint, because this is how I’d want to capture you. You take my breath away.”
Jem dropped her hands back to her sides, mentally pushing away her discomfort over his prolonged study of her body. He’d jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, as if to stop from reaching for her.
Cooking Up Love Page 16