“Oh, right.”
I gestured toward one of the kitchen chairs, my eyes glued to him the entire time as he took a seat. His jeans had a hole in the knee, while the denim hung low on his hips. So low, the defined, deepVmuscles of his abdomen showed. All I wanted to do was trace the lines, and not with my fingers.
“Sophie?”
My gaze was slow to rise to his face, and when I got there, he greeted me with a half smirk.
“Sorry. Just thinking about different positions… I mean… different stretches I can do to you… oh God,withyou.” There was no doubt my face was bright red at this point. “I’m tired. You know what I mean,” I said, waving my hand in the air. I popped the lid of the oil container open. The slight aroma of peppermint wafted into the air. “There is CBD in the oil, which helps with pain, and the peppermint contains menthol, which has a cooling effect on sore, achy muscles,” I explained. “This also contains anti-inflammatory properties.”
Squeezing out a few drops, I rubbed my hands together to warm the liquid before touching him. I stood beside him, but as I worked the oil into his muscles, I moved behind him before eventually shifting in front of him, nudging his legs apart as I stepped in between to get the angle I needed.
Jackson’s head moved to the side, allowing me more room to work. The low groan that rumbled from his throat heated my blood, and I wanted to pin my legs together, but I didn’t want to be too obvious.
“How does that feel?”
“Fucking fantastic.” He rolled his shoulder before dropping it. I continued to work on him, kneading his muscles all while being careful not to press too hard. “Your hands are so much better than Trevor’s.”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about the massage,” I jested, smiling wider when he rolled his eyes at my lame tease. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can do anything you want right now.” Another satisfied moan stormed past his lips.
“Don’t say that.”
Another jest from me, but one he didn’t roll his eyes at. Instead, he raised his hand to rest it on my waist, his touch unsettling in the best way possible. But also, the worst. Flirting with him, even if innocently, was dangerous. It would be too easy to let go completely with this man.
Jackson’s fingers gently dug into my waist as he pulled me closer, his face level with my chest. Dangerously close.
“I’m serious, Sophie.” His sudden departure from his chair pushed me backward, and I stumbled. Before I fell on my ass, however, his large hands gripped me tightly, and he pulled me impossibly close, my covered torso touching his bared one. Even with the thin material between us, I became heated from the inferno that was Jackson.
Tipping my head back to look at him, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to taste his lips, to slide my tongue against his. Was he a good kisser? Would he be gentle? Did he even know how to be? Or would he take my mouth with brute force? I so desperately wanted to find out but was too chickenshit to make a move. So instead, I stared at him, something I apparently was doing a lot of lately.
“Serious about what?” I asked, anxious to hear his answer.
His warm breath fanned my face, and when he licked his lips, all while his eyes remained pinned to mine, I almost lost all sensibilities and smashed my mouth over his.
“I’m serious about you doing anything you want right now. I won’t object.”
Oh my God. He gave me the green light. I should take it. I should throw caution to the wind and snatch the opportunity. He just told me he wouldn’t refuse whatever I had in mind. Did his open door pertain to sex or just a kiss? Was I brave enough to find out?
“You won’t?”
“No.” He hooked his finger under my chin and raised my head when I looked away. “Anything you want.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Let your imagination run wild.” His eyes darkened as he lowered his head, his lips now inches from mine. “You’re gonna have to make the move, though.”
“Why?” I asked breathlessly.
“Because you need to know you’re in control.”
“What if I don’t want to be?”
“Then I’ll sit back down, and you can continue to work on my shoulder.”
“Then what?”
Jackson’s mouth was so close to mine that, when he wet his lips, the tip of his tongue brushed against my bottom one.
