I do my best not to shiver.
“Actually, it was three chances to—”
Jason’s fingers cover my lips, quieting me. His dark green eyes look more of a rich brown, yet they hold a sternness that doesn’t allow arguments.
“Twelve.”
I can’t find it within myself to argue. At its own volition, my head nods to accept the terms. His smirk is predatory before he speaks.
“There is still so much I need to teach you about your body.”
He’s full throttle again, taking my kisses as if they belong to him. I cling to him, not wanting to waste a moment of our time together. The friction of his jeans, rubbing against my naked thigh, has me wondering If he’s going to be rough again. If he’s not, I try to imagine what he would do instead, and will it get me there. My anxiety peaks.
What if it was a fluke?
What if he can’t make it happen this time?
Will he want to do it again?
Will he think me defective?
I blink a few times when Jason releases me.
“You’re doing it again,” Jason grumbles as he studies my face with a slight frown.
“What?”
“Focusing on the wrong damn thing.” He grabs my shoulders and forces me to look him deep in the eyes. “When you’re with me, the only thing you need to think about is how good I make you feel.”
Damn.
He’s so arousing and cocky. I watch him unzip and kick off his boots.
When he speaks again, his tone is husky and seductive.
“Take me to your room, Bree.”
9
Bree
We’ve had sex before; just yesterday, in fact. My brain is aware of that, but the rest of me is a bundle of nerves as Jason’s big body fills up my room. We have the same floor plan but having him in my personal space makes my room feel smaller than it did when I was in his.
“Take off your clothes.”
Shaky hands begin to unlatch the buttons on my oversized pajama top while Jason watches. He’s still fully dressed with his arms folded. His mussed hair from our kisses makes him look even wilder. It’s only been a few minutes, but I miss having him all over me.
His green orbs feast on my breasts when the shirt falls off my shoulders and hits the floor. Gaze moving down, he notices my white lace underwear.
“Leave those on for now. Come take off my clothes.”
I nod as my nerves fade into curiosity. I slide the leather jacket off his shoulders and throw it onto the ottoman in the corner. Jason stands silently waiting for me to make my next move. I grip the hem of his shirt; my fingers graze his warm skin as I lift it slowly revealing inch by glorious inch of his chiseled abs and chest. I feel his warmth still enveloped in the shirt. I can’t place the scent profile, but I want to climb into his scent.
I make a noise at the back of my throat when my nipples rub against his chest as I rock onto my tippy toes to get the shirt over his head.
“You smell so good,” I tell him just before nuzzling his chest with my nose. My hand lands on his chest for balance.
“I didn’t say you could touch me yet.” I drop my hand from his chest. “Now, continue.”
