Chapter 38

He leaned toward me, and our lips almost brushed. When he spoke, his voice was almost a caress. "You gotta ask?"

In spite of all my longings, I forced myself to pull back. "Yes. I do." I swallowed. "I mean, was it all for Rango's benefit?"

With a soft chuckle, Jake turned and leaned back against the sofa. "No. It was for my benefit."

"But…" I struggled to find the right words. "Did you know Rango was standing there?"

"Yeah. I knew." Through the shadows, I saw him turn again to face me. "And yeah, I wanted him to see. I wanted him to get good and pissed off. And I wanted him to know that you weren't his anymore."

He leaned close. "But you know what I really wanted?"

"What?"

"I wanted you." He moved a fraction closer. "And I wanted more than a kiss."

My head was swimming. "I want more than a kiss right now," I confessed.

Soon, his lips were on mine. I melted into his embrace. His arms closed around me and pulled me tight against him. His body felt warm and hard, just like I'd always imagined. He moved his head lower and nibbled on my bottom lip.

My pulse jumped, and a soft moan escaped my lips. I was wearing next to nothing, just that oversized shirt and black lacy panties. But what I wanted to be wearing was nothing at all. And I wanted him to be wearing nothing too.

His lips trailed lower. They zeroed in on my neck, teasing, tantalizing. Unable to resist, I leaned my head back, exposing more of my neck in hopes of more. His tongue caressed my jumping pulse, making heat surge from my head to my toes and everyplace in between.

The room, so cool just a few minutes earlier, was feeling nearly tropical. His hand slid up to cradle the back of my neck, and his lips drifted to that sensitive spot just between my neck and shoulder. With his mouth, he pushed aside the thin cotton fabric of the borrowed T-shirt.

His teeth grazed my skin, and I caught my breath. If he was driving me to distraction now, when we were still mostly clothed, what might happen if things kept going?

They had to keep going. No matter what, I'd make sure of it. I crept forward to straddle his lap. I pressed my knees to either side of his hips and laced my fingers behind his neck. When I pressed myself against him, his hardness pulsed against me.

"Luna." He drew a ragged breath. "If you were smart, you'd run."

Liar. If I was smart, I'd do exactly what I was doing. His words might say one thing, but his body said another. When I ground against him, he made a sound of frustration that made me smile.

I pressed myself tighter against him. "Are you sure you want me to run?"

"No." He slid his hands up the back of my T-shirt. "But you should anyway."

His hands felt big and strong, but his touch was soft, a sweet caress that left me aching for more. His hands drifted lower, finding the waist of my panties. If I was lucky, he'd tear them off and take me right now.

"Run?" I said. Why would I do that?"

"Because you're way too sweet for the likes of me." His hands dipped lower. "I ruin everything." His hands dipped lower still. "And I sure as hell don't want to ruin this." His fingers skimmed my ass-cheeks, and his voice became raw. "I don't want to ruin you."

Under my fingertips, his neck muscles were tense, straining, as if his control might suddenly break. I wanted it to break. With both hands, I trailed my fingers over his broad shoulders and then down over his chest. It felt every bit as good as it looked, a perfected mass of smooth skin and hard muscle.

I trialed my hands lower until I reached his flat stomach, with its washboard ridges and hard valleys. The muscles contracted, tensing as if preparing for battle, whether with me or with himself.

If the battle was for self-control, he wasn't going to win, not if I could help it.

I leaned against him and whispered in his ear. "I'm not that sweet."

I heard his sharp intake of breath. "You're sweeter than I deserve."

"Wanna bet?" I trailed my fingertips lower. When my fingers brushed over his hardness, he surged against me. I made my tone light, playful even. "I don't want to run, but if you insist…"

"Now you've done it," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"This."

Somehow – I still don't quite know how he did it – I was suddenly on my back, lying across his sofa. He loomed large over me, a shadowed silhouette of muscle-bound splendor. He reached out to trail the backs of his fingertips across my cheek. "You're so beautiful it hurts," he said.

I leaned into his caress. "How would you know?" I teased. "It's awful dark in here. I mean, I could be a goblin for all you know."

He trailed a fingertip down my neck. "No," he said. "You're not. And you know what?"

My voice was breathless. "What?"

"If you were, I'd never see it."

"Liar," I teased.

"I'm a lot of things," he said, "but a liar isn't one of them." He moved his hand behind my neck, cupping it with hint of possession that made me quiver in all the right places. He lowered his face toward mine. I felt my lips part and my breathing grow ragged.

And then, his mouth sealed mine with a kiss of such intensity that I forgot what I'd been planning to say next. It was our third kiss. Yes, I was counting, because each one was better than the last, more fierce and more tender. Whatever happened later on, I wanted to remember every single one of them, always.

Too soon, he pulled away. With a whimper, I lifted my hands to his waist and tried to pull him toward me.

He didn't budge. "Last chance," he said.

"For what?"

His voice might have been playful, except for the primal edge that made turned my insides to jelly. "To run."

Right. Like that was going to happen. Leveraging my hands around his waist, I yanked my torso upward until our faces were just inches apart. "No way," I said.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and gripped the neckline of my borrowed T-shirt. His voice was raw, possessive. "Good," he said. And then, with one forceful motion, he grabbed a handful of fabric in each hand and gave it a hard yank in opposite directions.

I heard the tear of fabric and his soft inhalation of breath. Cool air drifted across my bare nipples as the torn cotton fell aside, exposing my bare breasts to whatever he planned to do next.

His hands found my breasts, tracing the outlines with his smooth fingers. I felt his powerful hands cup either side of them, pressing them together as if savoring their shape and feel.

There was something raw and wonderful about his touch, something I'd never before experienced, but something I wanted to feel over and over again.

When he lowered his face, and I felt his warm mouth on my hard nipple, I moaned into the darkness. His tongue flicked the sensitive knob, and I arched upward into him, wanting more, so much more. I raised my trembling hands to the back of his head and felt thick hair dancing between my fingertips.

Soon, I felt his hand on my other nipple. He worried it between his fingertips, playing and lightly pinching, coaxing sounds out of me that shouldn't have been possible, given the fact we were still mostly clothed.

Clothes – there were too many of them. Especially on him.

I moved my hands lower, trailing them downward until I reached the waistband of his pants. I found a button and tugged frantically against it. When the button finally came loose, I moved to the zipper. I pulled it downward, and then reached along the sides of his hips to give his pants a frantic tug.

His mouth and fingers were still at my breasts, coaxing new sensations from who-knows-where. By now, I was nearly panting. I was so wet and so hungry for him, I felt like I'd fade into nothingness if I didn't have him right now.

Years – that's how long I'd been waiting for this. Another minute felt way too long.

When I reached out to grip his length, he moaned against my breast and whispered my name. With my right palm, I encircled his hot hardness, giving it a slow and steady squeeze as I marveled at the size and feel of him.

I spoke into the darkness. "Jake?"

His mouth vibrated against my skin. "Hmm…"

"I want you," I said. "I don't want to run. And I don't want to wait anymore."

Slowly, he pulled away, leaving my nipple warm and wet in the cool darkness. In my grip, he was pulsing hard and huge, and I was dying to know how he'd feel inside me.

"But you are gonna wait," he said.

My voice was breathless. "What? Why?"

He lowered his mouth to my ear and teased my earlobe with his tongue. "Because I say so."