She searched his eyes. They were dark and serious. Focused solely on her. Not that she needed to. He could be feeding her a line, but her gut told her he wasn’t. The butterflies in her stomach started dive-bombing again. “How do I make you nervous?”
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I like logic and order. Calm. And none of that enters my orbit when you’re around.”
Jada swallowed, searching for words. “I’m … sorry.”
His lips quirked. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault that you tilt my equilibrium off its axis. Every day, I try to figure out how I’m going to handle it. I’m not like you. I like spreadsheets and SWOT analyses. Every day, I fight my instincts.”
She swallowed. She couldn’t look away. His draw was too strong. Too powerful. “What do your instincts want you to do?”
He didn’t answer. Not with words.
The kiss was sweeter than spun sugar. Gentle. Coaxing. Jada’s eyes fluttered shut as she instantly became lost in the embrace. Lost in him. Kissing Donovan was quickly moving up the list of her favorite activities. Right now, she couldn’t think of anything that topped it. She could soon become addicted to him. To feeling like this. Cared for. Desired. Liked for who she was.
She didn’t know how it happened, but her back was against the wall, his hard chest pressed against hers, and he was taking the kiss deeper, deeper, deeper like he couldn’t get enough of her. She understood how he felt. She was quickly slipping under his spell. His tongue twined with hers in long, sensuous, decadent slides. A perfect, sensual mating that drugged all her senses. The kiss gentled as he slowly backed away, giving her a moment to inhale. Right when she was about to beg for more, he was back, groaning as he sucked on her bottom lip. He was hungry. Hungry for her.
No more than she was for him.
She lifted on her toes, desperately seeking a stronger connection. He chuckled. His laughter came to an abrupt stop when she mimicked his action and bit his bottom lip. Oh, yeah. She liked that. It was soft and plush. Perfect. She repeated the action, her teeth sinking into the plump flesh and tasting him.
“It’s like that?” he murmured, his voice teasing.
“Yes,” she moaned.
Then the kiss got hotter. Wilder. Necessary. Teeth clashed. Tongues battled. Lust rampaged through her system. She wanted more. Needed more of Donovan.
Arousal pooled between her thighs. He rocked against her, his hardness pressing into her stomach. Jada gasped into his mouth. He was just as affected as she. Wanted it just as much as she did. She clutched his shirt, needing the anchor.
It wasn’t enough.
She wanted his hands on her. “Touch me.”
The need in her voice startled her, but she didn’t take it back. Couldn’t.
Jada groaned in deep appreciation when his hand worked its way under her shirt and pressed against her stomach before sliding upward toward her breasts.
In the recesses of her brain, she recognized that the rhythmic pounding she was hearing wasn’t only coming from her racing heart, but she ignored it. This kiss with Donovan was all that mattered. She never wanted to leave this world they’d built only for the two of them.
But the pounding only increased in volume.
“Jada, you in there? Folks are starting to show up.” The voice came from right outside the door. Nicholas.
They sprang apart. Jada’s heart raced like she’d just completed a 10K. Donovan stared at her with wild eyes, his chest heaving.
“What was that?” he muttered, clearly more to himself than expecting her to answer.
The doorknob began to rattle. Donovan’s eyes widened. Add that to the things she’d dwell on later. “Yeah, I’m in here,” she called out, forcing her voice to cooperate. “I’ll be out in a bit. Just looking for some poster board.”
The doorknob stopped rattling.
“Good deal,” Nicholas said. The sound of his footsteps faded away.
Donovan still looked shook. Which made her feel awesome. Was kissing her so bad? Kissing him was the absolute highlight of her day. Hell, her year. But he looked dismayed, if not outright horrified.
On unsteady legs, she stepped around his motionless figure and headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering all the dregs of composure she could muster. She’d been here before, having to pick up the pieces after terrible, impulsive mistakes with other men. He said nothing. So it was up to her. “Hey, don’t worry about it. What happens in the supply closet stays in the supply closet, remember.”