Even scornful looked hot right now. “No reason to cut up your pretty dress.” He gently pried her fingers off her arm. “Trust me?”
More than she trusted herself. She bit down on her lip and nodded, then raised her arm, determined not to think about the fact that he’d more than likely seen his fair share of naked women.
He flipped open pliers on his multi-tool. His fingers slid between her dress and the skin beneath her arm, warm and sure and steady. He could’ve copped a feel, but after she’d arrived on the landing, his eyes didn’t stray beyond her face or the zipper.
The zipper he was separating tooth by tooth, millimeter by millimeter. His breathing hitched. Her own lungs couldn’t find a steady rhythm. When she inhaled, she noted something spicier, richer, about his scent. She’d never noticed the few strands of silver among the subtle swirls that hinted at the curls in his close-cropped hair, or the way his ears crinkled tightly at the edges.
He slid the zipper farther down. Cool air drifted between the panels of her dress. His lashes were lowered to his task, his lips taut in concentration.
Unzipping a zipper wasn’t that hard, not with tools.
Her heart thudded like a gong announcing dinnertime. Jackson pulled back. His eyes were black as the night outside, his nostrils flaring unsteadily. “That far enough?”
With him on the step below her, they were at eye level. Anna clumsily felt her dress, unable to tear her gaze from his. She licked her lips again. “Should be.”
He gave a brief nod. “Need anything else, give a holler.”
Before he could step down, she put her hands to hisshoulders. “Jackson.”
His eyes flickered. His chest rose and fell as rapidly as hers. “Yes, ma’am?”
She felt his breath everywhere on her skin. Her head still ached, her feet wanted rest, but her body, her femininity, everything else about her didn’t want to break the chemical bonds holding them in this weird equilibrium.
“This is where I wanted to be,” she said.
His unsteady hands settled on her hips. “Here now, Anna Grace.”
She tilted her head and leaned into him. The friction between their bodies held her against him stronger than the zipper had sealed her dress shut.
His eyes flicked over her face, his gaze searching for something. “You sure?”
She brushed her lips over his. His fingers tightened into her hips, his eyes slipped shut, and then he was kissing her back, slow and steady, soft and smooth. His lips tasted like skin and cake. His stubbled jaw was the right bit of scratchy.
She slid all the way into the kiss. The day, her head, everything but Jackson faded away behind the way their mouths fit together. His hand, so courteous and respectful moments ago, slid into the opening in her dress. The other wrapped around her neck, his fingers magically easing away her tension and replacing it with a primal excitement so long forgotten, her body felt as if it were coming to life for the first time.
But her thighs remembered this tune. Between his skilled mouth and capable hands, soon her breasts were humming along as well. She deepened the kiss, pressed closer to him, and scraped her fingers down his back. She felt a bulge against her pelvis, and another zing of excitement surged over her skin.
He didn’t owe her anything. No obligation, no responsibility, no commitment.
His tongue flicked over her lower lip. The heat thaterupted in her veinshadto be against the laws of thermodynamics.
She wanted to feel his skin, and she wanted another peek at that tattoo, but she couldn’t bear the thought of his hands not on her skin for a single second.
Especially not when he had his fingers splayed across her back, slowly, slowly, slowly sinking lower, lower, lower until his fingertips brushed the silk of her panties.
And stopped.
She whimpered.
He threaded his other hand through her hair, her scalp tingling beneath his fingers, and let his tongue leisurely explore her mouth. She rocked her body harder against his, felt his erection jerk against her, while his other hand stayed firmly planted on the border betweenthat’s goodandohmigod.
She pushed up on her tiptoes.
He shifted with her.
Her whimpers turned into a groan. She snaked her hand down his arm to his hand, and pushed it down.
Right onto her ass.
