“True story.”
Because he didn’t like even the small bit of distance between them, Jesse flattened his palm against her back, sliding down to the sway in her spine, bringing her petite frame and sweet curves even closer. Usually, he didn’t have any trouble controlling his cock. Now it had a mind of its own, and he ached to slide all of her against every inch of him too badly to care if she felt that.
When he arched into her, she gasped, then flattened herself against him. The friction as they swayed together blew his mind. She glanced up at him, and he curled a finger under her chin to bring her face beneath his. He restrained himself from grabbing her ass—barely. Public displays didn’t bother him, but that sort of thing might bug her. And he wasn’t supposed to be drawing attention to himself.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you, say something.”
“I…I can’t.”
Jesse eased back, trying not to let the surprisingly visceral disappointment consume him. “You can’t let me kiss you?”
“No, I can’t say anything to stop you.”
The urge to press her against the nearest wall and find out exactly what sounds she made when she came nearly undid him. But he stopped.
Of course he liked sex. He fucking loved it. But this compulsion to take off Bristol’s clothes and make her scream out his name felt way beyond any normal urge.
When he cupped her face, he was surprised to see his hands shaking.
She blinked up at him. God, she was so small. Delicate. Warm. Her stare clung, her green eyes so open and earnest. She wasn’t playing a game, wasn’t merely interested in him because of who he was. She seemed to like him.
When was the last time anyone had cared about the man under the persona? He didn’t like the answer.
Now was a really crappy time to decide that he seriously liked a girl. And liked who he was around her. He should walk away; Jesse knew that. But Deke had advised him to make all the parts of his life meaningful. And Bristol Reese might be the most meaningful thing he’d felt in years.
Chapter Four
Bristol fought to catch her breath. When Jamie cradled her face and looked into her eyes as if nothing in his life meant more than this kiss, an electric spark sizzled down her spine. The answering jolt darkened his hungry stare.
She wasn’t unhappy being alone, but her ill-fated relationship with Hayden had ensured she refused to play second fiddle anymore. Looking back, she saw that he’d always gravitated to Presleigh. Too often, he’d been happy to forego an evening with her to have dinner with her mother and sister. Jamie, by contrast, couldn’t care less that her beauty queen sibling was even in the building. She hadn’t felt truly important to anyone since her father—and Jamie was looking at her like she was the only person in the room.
“Good. I’m going to kiss you.” His voice turned husky, rough. His grip on her tightened as if he didn’t want to let her go. “I have to. I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone like this in a long time, and I’ve barely been able to think about anything but your mouth since I walked in.”
“Slick line.”
“Not a line. Absolute truth. So unless you tell me no, I’m going to taste every corner of your mouth. Memorize your flavor. Finally know what it feels like the exact second you give in to the pull between us.”
Her heart picked up speed until she could hear its beating in her ears. “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He shook his head. “I’m banking on the hope that what I’m feeling for you isn’t one-sided. The way you’re looking at me says it’s not. If I’m wrong, tell me.”
“You’re not,” she breathed. “This is crazy. We met an hour ago.” But she still felt as if she knew him in some weird way on a soul-deep level. Jamie made her hormones swirl and did something she couldn’t quite classify to her heart. Walking away from him now simply because they hadn’t had a requisite date at Chili’s before sharing a movie didn’t make sense. It didn’t have any bearing on whether they slipped into bed.
Hadn’t she vowed earlier to have flings? Jamie seemed like he’d qualify as the perfect one.
He leaned closer, his gaze focused on hers as his lids shut. She stopped breathing. Her heartbeat stuttered, then lurched. Bristol ached to know how being even closer to him would feel. Granted, he wasn’t her “type”. Right now, that didn’t seem to matter at all.
“Bristol?” She’d know that sharp voice anywhere.
“Yes, Mama?”
“Hayden and Presleigh have a few words to say to everyone. And she’d like you to pass out the cookies.”
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. When Jamie smiled down at her, his warmth went a long way to squelching her disappointment. He wasn’t letting her mother ruin their first kiss. She wouldn’t either.
“And Aunt Jean wants to know what she’s doing wrong with her chocolate sheet cake.”
“She probably used two-percent instead of buttermilk again,” she murmured to Jamie. “Sure thing. I’ll be there in a minute.”
