I cross my arms and arch my brow at him. “’Oh, hey Mila’? That’s all I get? The dog gets more of a greeting than I do?”
He slowly stands up, and when he does, I take in an audible breath at how close he is and the heat radiating from his eyes.
“Hi, Mila.” Those are the only words of warning I get before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. It’s sweet, and way too short, and I want more. So much more. Jackson must sense this, because he looks at me closely for a second, then his head dips down again and his lips meet mine. There’s nothing sweet about this kiss, and it goes on and on, until our arms are wrapped around each other, and we’re pressed as close together as humanly possible. And it still isn’t enough. We fumble inside, Jackson pushing the door closed as I try not to climb him like a tree. Our lips are fused together, and my brain is spiraling with pleasure.
Somehow we make it to my couch, and Jackson lowers me down slowly before moving on top of me. His weight settles onto me, our bodies lining up perfectly. My hips start to rock up into him in time with his kisses. His hand is tangled in my hair, and the occasional tug on the strands sends lightning bolts of arousal straight down my spine. It’s full steam ahead for whatever’s going to happen next, until my brain gets in the way.
What the hell are we doing.
“Stop.” I push at his chest, and like the perfect gentleman he is, Jackson immediately backs off.
“Sorry, I…shit.” He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up even more than I already had in my crazed passion. I can tell he’s feeling guilty for what just happened, which is ridiculous, since I was as much a part of it as he was.
“No, don’t apologize. I want this. I want you, trust me. I just think maybe we should take a minute and talk about whatever we’re about to do?”
Jackson sits back against the couch. “Yeah. We should. And I am sorry to have just taken you like that, I don’t know what came over me.”
I gesture down at my sleep shorts and tank top. “Clearly, you were overwhelmed by my sexy outfit and bedhead.”
Finally he laughs, and the tension is gone. “Maybe pajamas turn me on, did you think about that?”
I grin. “My mistake. Next time I’ll answer the door naked.”
Lord, the smoulder he gives me at that comment just about makes me faint. “That wouldn’t exactly help my self-control, Mila.”
I stand up. “I need more coffee before we talk about whatever this was.” I wave my hand between us without meeting his eyes. Walking into my kitchen, I feel him behind me. And when I reach up into the cabinet to get down a second mug, he’s right there. His hands come to the counter on either side of me, penning me in. I don’t turn around, letting the energy between us bounce from him to me.
“What are we doing, Jackson,” I say quietly. His head drops to my shoulder, and after a second he presses a kiss to the bare skin there.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I want you, more than I expected to. And every time I see you, it gets harder and harder to resist.”
Slowly I turn to face him. There’s an intoxicating combination of desire and vulnerability in his expression, and when I reach up to cup his stubble-covered cheek, his eyes close and he presses into my hand.
“Why do we need to resist?”
His low chuckle is full of need. “I’ve been asking myself the same damn question.”
I take a deep breath before I take the inevitable plunge. “So, maybe we don’t. Resist anymore, that is.” I watch him carefully as I continue. “Maybe we modify our arrangement slightly. Fake dating, real sex.”
His eyes flare wide. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
To answer him, I wind my arms around his neck, letting my fingers tunnel into his hair as I pull him back down. Right before our lips collide, I whisper softly, “Absolutely.”
Jackson lets out a sound of pure lust as his hands drop down to my ass. Then suddenly I’m airborne as he lifts me up onto the counter I was just pressed against. His grip moves to my knees, which he pushes apart so he can step in between, and he slides me forward so that I’m flush with his body. I can feel the rock hard length of his erection straining against the soft fabric of the shorts he’s wearing, and the sensation elicits a moan of arousal from me that sounds primal.
His hands slide up and down the sides of my body, dipping under my tank top. On the next breath his thumbs reach the sides of my bare breasts.
“Christ, Mila, no bra?”
I shake my head as his fingers slide around to tease my nipples. There is no way I can formulate any more of a response right now, so I just moan and thrust my chest into his hands. He lifts my shirt over my head and tosses it somewhere behind him before lowering his head to suck my breast into his mouth.
I’m lost.
The waves of sensation wash over me, making me dizzy with desire. He licks, nips and sucks at my nipples until I’m desperate, keening with desire. I’ve never been this turned on just from someone playing with my breasts, but it’s Jackson, and everything he does turns me on. Everything.
My hands grab at his shirt, impatiently tugging it up. He breaks away from me just long enough to take it off, freeing up all of those tawny colored muscles for me to run my hands over as he returns his lips to my chest, licking a swath between the slopes of my breasts before circling around my nipples again.
“God, Jackson,” I gasp as he gently nips at my skin. His lips travel down my stomach, bringing goosebumps to my skin everywhere he touches. When he reaches the edge of my shorts, he lifts his head, his eyes burning into mine.
