To Have and to Heist(49)
“You figured right, mister.” I poked his chest with my free hand; at least I tried to poke his chest, but my hand wasn’t going where my brain was telling it to go.
“I thought you said you could outdrink anybody.” He caught my hand, wound his fingers through mine. “Looks to me like you might have pushed your limit.”
“I did outdrink them. I was the last one standing.”
“Actually, you were lying on the floor when I walked in,” he said. “I thought you’d be more comfortable in your bed. I didn’t realize your room wasn’t habitable until the water soaked through my shoes.”
“You carried me?” I flushed with pleasure even though I should have been concerned that I’d been so drunk, he’d picked me up and I hadn’t even noticed.
“You didn’t seem to want to be vertical.” He brought our joined hands to his cheek, pressed his lips to my palm.
I didn’t know where this was going, but I wanted more—more gentle touches, more quiet talking, more sexy Jack without the armor.
“I wish I’d been awake,” I said. “I haven’t been carried since I was a child.”
“I’m happy to carry you around whenever you want.” His voice caught as if he was holding himself back, as if there was more he wanted to do. Yes, please!
“You smell good.” I leaned closer and sniffed his neck, breathing in his scent of flowers and earth and the cool evening breeze.
“Freesia and a bit of peony. I helped my cousin with some transplanting. Too much damp and peonies suffer botrytis blight.” He released my hand and traced his finger along the edge of my jaw.
I tilted my head to give him better access to my lips. Touching was nice but kissing was better. I would have made a move, but I didn’t trust my aim. Everything was still a little fuzzy.
“You missed a good party,” I said. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Did you know that Anil has a photographic memory? Or that he can multiply six-digit numbers in his head? He was also a spelling bee champion.”
“Useful skills in a heist.” He brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear, his fingers so gentle a soft shudder worked its way through my body. If he’d asked me at that moment to take off my clothes, I would have done it without hesitation.
“Emma knows a lot of people who’ve done a lot of interesting things.” I talked so I didn’t have to think, so I could live in this quiet intimate moment and just feel. “She told us she spent some time in prison. It wasn’t her crime, but she took the fall for her sister, and then her sister turned around and stabbed her in the back.”
“People are who they are.” His fingertip skimmed lightly along my throat and down the vee of my shirt to stroke the crescents of my breasts. My skin rippled with shivers.
“Who are you?” I shifted closer, pressing my body against his. “I don’t know much about you. Not even your last name. I’m pretty sure it isn’t really Danger.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
We lay with our foreheads touching, breathing as one. Jack put his hand on my hip, slowly traced the curve of my waist.
“I know you like literature,” I offered, gently prodding. “You also love plants. You’ve got underworld connections. You had a thing with Clare. You’re a great dancer, and you look sexy both in a tux and a leather jacket.”
“You think I’m sexy?” His jaw tightened, fingers digging deeper into my hip as if he were willing himself to hold back.
“I just said so.” I ran my fingers over his cheek, the rough stubble on his jaw.
Jack caught my hand and brought it down to rest on his chest. “How sexy?” His lips moved along my jaw, feathering kisses to my ear. My body melted into his until I couldn’t tell where I ended, and he began.
“Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”
Jack leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, going from teasing to demanding so quickly, it was like a dam had broken inside him. Everything fell away except the crush of his lips against mine, the heat of his body, and his firm hand holding me still as he ravished my mouth.
Yes, ravished. There was no other word for it. His tongue slid between my teeth, and he stroked every inch of my mouth, tasted the full swell of my lips, drank me down like he was dying of thirst.
My hands went to his head, holding him still as he moved above me. Bracing himself on his forearms, he spread my legs wide with his knees and settled his hips against mine, his hard length a delicious pressure where I needed him most.
I slid my hands through his hair and kissed him until I could barely breathe.
“God, I want you,” he whispered against my mouth.
“You can have me.” I slid my hand beneath his shirt, palm against his heated skin. “What part of this suggests I want to stop?”
He pulled away, breaking our connection with a groan. “Not now. Not like this.”
“This isn’t the time to start being a gentleman.”
“I’ve never been a gentleman,” he said, rolling onto his back. “But you deserve more, and I can’t destroy everything I’ve worked for. It would end me.”
I’d never had a man declare that sex with me would end him. I’d also never been left in such a state of painful desire that I wanted to scream. My skin burned and I ached all over.