JACKSON
I knew I was dreaming because the warm, soft, unmistakable curve under my left palm was a woman’s hip.
Dream woman had an incredibly sexy hip.
She also smelled delicious and was warm as a little furnace against my chest.
All of that helped to distract from the odd fact that I had a headache and my mouth tasted like bourbon. This was a really vivid dream. At least I was lying down comfortably, my head resting on a nice, fluffy pillow, my legs curled up behind dream woman’s legs.
She sighed in sleepy pleasure when I pulled her tighter against me and nuzzled my face into her hair. When I slid my hand over her hip and gently cupped her ass, she sighed again, arching her back and rubbing against my crotch.
This was a fucking awesome dream.
She smelled like strawberry shampoo and sunshine. Like goodness. Like something I wanted to soak in . . . or taste. I found the nape of her neck with my lips and stroked my tongue over the delicate bump of her spine. She breathed the softest, sexiest moan, which was even sexier because it was my name.
My dream boner was Godzilla. King Kong. Attila the Hun leading his army of savages to plunder the riches of foreign lands. I pressed it against her, curling my hand around her hip to draw her close. She made an appealing sound, a kitten’s soft mew, which drew a growl from deep inside my chest.
I opened my mouth over the curve between her shoulder and neck. She tilted her head back, giving me better access to her throat. I trailed my lips up satin skin, gently bit down, felt her shiver. She made a restless noise and squirmed.
She put her hand over mine and dragged it slowly up her waist and over her rib cage, to her breast. It was full and heavy in my hand, the nipple peaked—and highly sensitive. When I pinched it, she jerked and moaned, this time louder. A thin layer of cotton separated her skin from mine, and I needed it gone. I needed her skin on my tongue. I needed that moan again.
I found the hem of her shirt and pushed it up impatiently. I cupped her bare breast and gently squeezed.
“Yes, Jax,” she breathed, arching.
I rolled her under me, pinned her down, and sucked her taut nipple into my mouth. Her groan sent a shockwave of pure lust singing through me.
I rocked my hips into hers. She fisted her hands into my hair, urging me closer, scratching my scalp and softly crying out when I tested that hard bud with my teeth. Her thighs were open around my hips, her sweet smell was in my nose, the sound of her ragged breathing was in my ears. I pushed her breasts together and went slowly back and forth from nipple to nipple, sucking and licking, gently biting the fullness of the globes, then stroking my tongue over where I’d bitten to chase away the sting.
“Please,” she panted. “Oh, please don’t stop. More.”
My cock was so hard it ached. I was in heaven. This was dream heaven, and I was never, ever leaving. “I need to be inside you, sweetheart,” I murmured. She answered with a shudder.
Bianca lay panting softly beneath me with her eyes closed and her head thrown back, her pink T-shirt bunched up under her chin. Her gorgeous breasts jutted out from the cage of my hands, her nipples slick and darkest rose.
It hit me like a bucket of cold water poured over my head.
I wasn’t dreaming. This wasn’t heaven. This was real.
Fuck!
When I froze, Bianca opened her eyes. Then I was treated to the piercing anguish of watching her realize she wasn’t dreaming, either. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted on a choked gasp.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely, disoriented and disgusted with myself. I’d mauled her in my sleep! I could probably be arrested for this! How was I even on the bed anyway―I was supposed to be on the couch! What a fucking disaster!
I made a move to pull away, rearing back on my elbows, but she threw her arms around my shoulders and yelped, “Wait!”
I froze again. We were eye to eye, nose to nose, staring at each other. The only sound in the room was our labored breathing.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth. My heart pounded so hard I was breathless.
She moistened her lips. Her hair was wild all around her face, a dark mass of curls, and she was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
She said breathlessly, “So I had this idea yesterday. When you were prancing around showing off all your muscles.”
My arms shook. I didn’t dare speak. I just stared at her, waiting, burning up with naked lust.
“That maybe it would be a good idea if we . . .” Color rose in her cheeks. She hesitated for what felt like forever, until finally she worked up the courage to say, “If we got it out of our systems.”
My entire body was so tense I was in danger of shattering like fractured glass. “It?” I repeated, my voice raw.
Her lashes lowered. She managed to look demure even though her bare breasts were exposed. Her tone was crisp. “Don’t be intentionally obtuse, Jackson. You know exactly what I mean.”
When I continued to stare at her, trembling with disbelief, she made her meaning perfectly clear by biting her full lower lip and rocking her pelvis against mine.
On a groan, I dropped my forehead to her chest. She was murdering me. I was going to die in this bed, lying on top of her, my heart exploded in my chest like a grenade.
She turned her lips to my ear. “It doesn’t have to change anything. One time just so we can get past it and put it behind us. And since neither of us has gotten any in forever—”
“I won’t be able to have you once,” I growled, and took her mouth.
The kiss was hot and desperate, partly because I figured I had nothing to lose and partly because I was so turned on I was almost angry. She responded by arching up into me and digging her fingers into my shoulders, which made my already-throbbing cock so hard it was physically painful.
I broke away and cuffed her wrists over her head on the pillow. We were both panting. I was practically vibrating with frustration.
“Fuck. Fuck, Bianca!”
She wasn’t done torturing me. She lifted her head, put her mouth against my throat, and bit me. Gently, but enough to sting. Against my skin she murmured, “Yes. That’s exactly what you should do, Jax. Fuck Bianca.”
I groaned. What the hell was going on? Hearing those words from that normally chaste mouth made it all the more carnal. I wanted nothing more than to rip off the little shorts she was wearing and bury my cock deep inside her, but I knew it would be a disaster. Everything would be awkward afterward. Everything would change.
There was no way I could have her only once. I knew I’d be addicted from the first taste and end up being obsessed, hounding her like a dog in heat, pestering her like her ex until eventually she hated me.
It was the thing I was most afraid of: Bianca hating me. My inheritance be damned, I couldn’t lose her.
The little savage lifted her legs and hooked her ankles around my waist. She inhaled deeply against my neck and made a sound of pleasure. She started to wantonly rock her hips.
“You’re killing me,” I gasped.
“Why are you making me beg?” she protested, sliding her hands under my arms so she could reach down and squeeze my ass, which she did, with vigor.
“Why are you suddenly so horny?”
She lowered her head to the pillow and gazed up at me, her eyes half-lidded and hot. Her voice was a throaty whisper. “Because you’re beautiful, Jackson Boudreaux. Inside and out. I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.”
My heart stalled out, then took off like a rocket. Resting my weight on my elbows, I cupped her face in my hands and stared down at her, wanting to memorize every little thing, every aspect of this moment. Her eyes and chin and nose, the way her hairline dipped to a widow’s peak at the top of her forehead. Her sexy red Cupid’s bow mouth.
I said raggedly, “I can’t. Not only once. I can’t risk it being weird after. I couldn’t live with myself if I fucked this up.”
She drew in a slow breath, let it out through her nose. Then she cocked her head and considered me. “So it’s a negotiation, then.”
My brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“Well if you can’t do it only once, how many times do you think you would be able to do it?” She blinked lazily. One corner of her mouth lifted in a tiny, rogue grin that she quickly suppressed.
Speech was becoming difficult. “I . . . I’m so out of practice . . . I think the first ten or twenty times might just be getting me back up to speed.”
“Ten or twenty? Hmm. Ambitious, aren’t you?” She unhooked her ankles from around my waist and slid her foot down my leg, her toes curled around my calf. “And would that all be in one day, or . . .”
“No,” I said forcefully. I took my tone down a notch and tried to look serious. My blood pressure was through the roof. “No, I think I’d need a lot more time than that.” I cleared my throat of the rasp. “I mean, I don’t want to wear you out or anything.”
“Such a gentleman,” she whispered. Looking into my eyes, she slowly rubbed her breasts against my chest.
Her nipples were hard. I felt them right through my shirt, two firm little peaks that needed my tongue. A growl built low in my belly and worked its way through my chest and out my mouth, but still I held back.
Suddenly all the teasing left her voice and her eyes. She said firmly, “Jackson. I’m in your bed. I’m wearing your ring. We’re hot as two jalapeños for each other. Do me, dammit, and hurry up about it!”
A heartbeat of silence pounded between us. The moment stretched thin, then snapped, and the final shreds of my control curled up like burning paper and turned to ash.
I said, “You should write poetry,” and crushed my mouth to hers.