Jackson lifted one shoulder an inch. “It’s time.” He turned to gaze back out through the glass but Leah couldn’t bring herself to do the same. Her eyes were fixed on his jaw, his mouth, his nose, his eyelashes. She wanted to shake more words from him like fruit from a tree.
“Do you feel OK about it?” His answer mattered so much.
Jackson ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in sweaty tufts. And then his lips curved, ever so slowly, into his rare, boyish smile.
He nodded. “Right now, I’m feeling just fine.”
Chapter 24
Jackson
Jackson’s chest still rose and fell on jagged breaths. His elbow bumped Leah’s arm, his jeans brushed her hip. He was far too warm and getting hotter by the minute. He should move away.
He stepped closer.
A few strands of her hair stuck to his biceps. Her shorts and sleeveless cotton shirt left acres of bare skin on show. That tiny freckle beneath her eye was so close he’d only have to bend to kiss it. Jackson’s stomach muscles tightened and flexed. All week he’d thought about little but her. Replaying the touch of her fingers on his face, the feel of her arm across his chest while she slept.
This. This was why Landon Peake’s visit to Amity Court had curdled his gut. This was why he had no interest in spending time with Niamh. He’d needed to leave while he could to clear his head, but Jackson couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward Leah any longer. He didn’t want to keep his distance anymore. And he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath.
A groan rumbled in his throat. “I’d really like—”
Her beautiful eyes darkened and widened. “Yes, Jax.”
The nickname undid him. Twisting his hands into her hair, Jackson tugged her toward him, his heart hammering, knees liquid,and his mouth met hers. It was a little awkward, a whole lot impatient, and everything he’d been aching for. She surged against him with typical honesty, her fingers clutching at the waistband of his jeans.
Their height difference was an instant frustration so he bent to grip her thighs, lifting her roughly until her chin was level with his own. Leah wrapped bare legs around his hips and a growl ripped from his lips only to be swallowed by hers. Breathy, delicious sounds fluttered from her as she kissed the salt from his jaw and his neck. He chased her mouth with his, sweeping his tongue over hers, greedy and generous in equal measure. Leah’s soft shape molded to his rigid muscles as she met him kiss for kiss, touch for touch. She was the perfect fit. It was natural and right and she was driving him fucking insane.
Jackson’s hands clasped her ass. He shifted her a little, rubbing her center against his aching length, and caught her gasp in his mouth. She tasted of magic and caramel and flames and spice, her lips so fiery they seared his senses. His cock, already hard against the button fly of his jeans, pulsed and swelled beneath the pressure of her core. Her fingers, tugging on his hair, hungry and demanding, threatened his control. His head was ringing. His thoughts jangled.
“Doorbell!”
The strangled word was a jumble of foreign sounds in Jackson’s ear. “Huh?” His reply, just as unintelligible.
Leah drew back and he frowned in protest. “That was the doorbell.”
Frozen together, eye to eye, neither of them moved. Jackson would have happily held her there forever, her mouth swollen from his kisses. Pride and possession fought with desire as he ached to taste it again. Unable to help himself, his head was already dipping when the doorbell sounded through the house once more.
Jackson closed his eyes, fighting to dispel the haze of need still holding him captive. He loosened his grip on Leah’s thighs and slid her gently down his body. She gave a shaky huff of protest,which he felt in his groin. Once she was back on her feet, he took one instant step away, knowing he could only do it if he did it fast.
“I’ll get it.”
His head still more than half immersed in the glorious fucking feel of her, Jackson adjusted himself in his jeans, his breath labored. Leah’s eyes flared as they tracked his movements. She trailed him silently through to the front hallway and he yanked open the door as the bell rang for the third time.
Hazel met his glare with a raise of her eyebrows and a pleasant smile. “Sorry to disturb you.” She took in his ruffled hair and Leah’s breathlessness. Her pale blue eyes narrowed. “Goodness, you two look a little discombobulated.”
“Bees,” Leah blurted. “There were bees. We ran from the garden.”
Hazel gazed at her with interest. “Yes, darling. I came to tell you about the bees. They settled in my garden about a quarter of an hour ago. Ten feet or so up in one of the trees.” She looked between them, eyes twinkling. “You need to work on your fitness if you’re still puffing.”
Jackson gripped the back of his neck. “I’ll give someone a call.”
Without catching Leah’s eye, he dug in his pocket for his cell phone and strode away from the door. Small talk was beyond him while the blood still raged in his veins.
All he knew for sure was that one kiss was not enough. He wanted more. And he wanted it soon.
The freshly plastered living room ceiling had dried perfectly. He distracted himself for the rest of the afternoon by getting a mist coat of white paint on it, while Leah and Hazel puttered around in the background. He covered the furniture and floor with dustsheetsand got to work with a roller on a long, extendible pole. By the time he’d finished, Jackson’s shoulders were screaming, his face, hair, and t-shirt peppered with flecks of paint. But the ceiling was pristine and the physical effort had tamped down the frustration in his belly.
Though their kiss had rocked him to the bone, he found it impossible to guess what it might have meant to Leah; he’d hardly given her much to like since they’d met. What if she’d just gotten carried away in the moment? Maybe she would just consider it a “one and done.”
