“I’m not exactly the picture of fun,” I tell him. “And I’m not…good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“This.” I gesture between us. “I’ve never messed around with someone I’m friends with.”
His lips twitch. “So you admit we’re friends.”
“We’re something,” I concede.
“It was the nachos, wasn’t it.”
“Yes, Jack,” I say flatly. “It was the nachos.”
He turns then, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I knew it.”
“We’re in the hallway,” I remind him.
“I just need a minute,” he tells me. “Because there are about a hundred and one things I want to do to you, and I need to know which ones you’re ready for.”
I feel my heart rate skyrocket, my neck flushing. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for,” he stresses. “But I do want to touch you again.”
I let my fingers press against his sternum, sliding my palm over his chest. “What if I wanted to touch you this time?”
“Abby,” he groans. “Do you want me to come in the hallway? Keep talking like that and see what happens.”
“Open the door,” I tell him. “Let’s go inside.”
He turns the handle to let us inside, and then both of us are spilling into the entryway in a rush as I fall into his chest, his arms at my shoulders to steady me. His eyes find mine and holdthem, looking a little hazier than they did a moment ago. I feel his thumbs brushing back and forth against my shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
“Abby,” he practically whispers, almost like he’s shy. “Can I kiss you?”
I press up on my toes in lieu of answering, sliding my arms around his neck to pull him down to me as I touch my lips to his. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, one that I feel all the way down to my toes. His tongue slips past my lips to touch mine, and then it’s me making the sounds, whimpering a little when his hands find my ass to hoist me up like I weigh nothing.
“Bedroom?” he asks against my mouth.
I nod, seemingly unable to stop kissing him. “Go.”
He never stops kissing me as he carries me to his bedroom, a situation not unlike the one that led us here last night. I’m more sure this time, less afraid of what it might mean for tomorrow—content to just live in the moment as Jack deposits me on his bed.
“I want to see all of you this time,” he says huskily. “Can I?”
I bite at my lower lip, feeling a flutter of nerves at the idea of being naked with him, mainly just because it’s been so long since I’ve been so with another person.
“You first,” I say.
Jack grins as he reaches for the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it off in one smooth motion and tossing it aside. I feel as dry mouthed now looking at him as I did when I caught him coming out of the shower; he’s just so fuckingperfect, it’s enough to make anyone nervous to follow that.
He’s reaching for the button of his jeans as I squirm on the bed, snapping them open and shoving them down his thick thighs, which flex and strain with the effort to kick them off. Thenit’s just him in his dark gray boxer briefs—the outline of his already-hard cock straining against them in a way that makes my mouth suddenly not so dry.
He called me gorgeous last night—it’s something I committed to memory immediately—but looking at him now…I’d argue he’s the gorgeous one.
I scrabble up from the bed to my knees before crawling to the edge, running my hands up his thighs and feeling the corded muscle bunch under my palms. He shivers at my touch, and it makes me feel almost powerful that I could be the one to make him this way.
“S-seems a little one-sided here, Abby,” he points out.
He evensoundswrecked.
