He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You did not just say that.”
That’s when I notice his eyes are a little red in the corners, almost like he’s been crying.
“Jackson.”
He lifts his nose defiantly. “What? What are you going to do, Maverick? You can’t control me. I can say and do whatever I li?—”
My composure snaps. I erase the small gap between us, hook my fingers into the belt loops on his jeans, and tug him into me. Not a move HR would approve of. Thankfully, we don’t currently have an HR department.
I slide my fingers down his cheeks and across his jaw with one hand and remove the mug he’s holding with the other. Gently angling his head upward, I ghost my lips over his.
“What are you doing?” His coffee-scented breath fans over my face.
“Shutting you the fuck up.”
And with that, I bring my lips to his. A shocked gasp of air escapes him, and I still.This is a mistake. This is wrong. You’re going to regret it.I wait for my internal alarm bells to heed the warnings, but they don’t. Seems my subconscious wants this kiss as much as the rest of me does.
I slide my tongue gently along the seam of his soft, plump lips. His eyes flutter to a close, his long, curly lashes glinting in the overhead lighting, casting delicate shadows across his freckled cheeks.
I should slow down, take a minute to process the thundering cascade of emotions racing inside me. Only Jackson is capable of making me feel like this, act like this, driving me past the point of common sense and logic until I finally crack. It’s borderline psychotic, but for some reason, it really turns me on.
Just like the tiny whimper he makes as his lips part. I waste no time sliding my tongue into his mouth, desperate to know what he tastes like. I’ve had two near kisses. Third time has to be the charm.
His calloused hands cradle my face, and my stomach drops. Shit. That’s it. I’ve gone too far. He’s going to shut this down.
But he doesn’t.
His fingers twist into my shirt near the collar, and he pulls me into his warm, hard body, his erection pressing into my thigh. Then his tongue pushes past my lips, probing the insides of my mouth with a furious, untamed intensity.
Rough and soft.
Light and dark.
There are so many sides to him. Jackson Hunter isn’t just complicated; he’s the most intriguing, multifaceted person I’ve ever met.
A faint warning bell goes off in my head.
This reminds me a lot of how I fell for Luca. Hard and fast. And look how that turned out.
I have to be careful. I need to keep my wits about me, and I can’t use Jackson as a means to feeling something. I shouldn’t rely on anyone for that. I have to do that on my own.
But man, do I feelso many thingsfor this guy.
14
Jackson
“So, are you going to tell me why we’re here?” Pip asks for the second time since we entered Bunny’s.
I ignore the question again and flag down the bartender.
“Your usual?” I ask. Pip nods, and I place the order. “Two vodka sodas and one classic red sangria, please.” Pip bumps me with his elbow. “With extra ice,” I add.
I tap my fingers against the counter while the bartender gets our order. It’s been a day. Actually, it’s been a tough few days, and I need a drink and someone to talk to. In that order.
I pay for our drinks, and we find a quiet, well-lit spot at a high table near the back of the bar.
“You’re not going to punch anyone again, are you?” Pip asks, lifting himself up onto the stool.
