We need to get out of here.
Preferably somewhere with a door.
And a lock.
In fact, where is the nearest hotel room?
Once we’re outside, Jake grabs me under my thighs and lifts me like I weigh nothing.
I squeal, half laughing, half breathless, and instinct kicks in as I wrap my legs around his waist. My dress rides up slightly, and I feel the solid strength of him everywhere.
His hands tighten on me.
Then his mouth is on mine again.
The kiss is wet and intoxicating, his stubble scraping deliciously against my skin. My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses me harder.
“God,” he mutters against my mouth, his eyes flashing when he pulls back just enough to look at me.
Without another word, he gently sets me down.
There’s a very obvious bulge in his pants.
I try not to stare.
I fail.
My eyes drop.
And stay there.
Heat floods my cheeks, but I can’t look away.
He notices.
Of course he does.
His jaw tightens slightly, and something dark flashes across his face.
Instead of teasing me, instead of making a joke, he simply takes my hand.
Firm.
Decisive.
And starts walking.
There’s purpose in his stride now.
Not rushed.
Not frantic.
Just certain.
Like he already knows exactly what he’s going to do to me once we’re behind closed doors.
The way he holds my hand makes my knees weak.
