‘Jett...’
Gasping, she threw back her head and Jett felt her nails digging crescent moons deep into his shoulders. He tipped back his head to see her better. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes closed.
‘Right here with you,’ he murmured.
She made a little sound at the back of her throat.
Ah...yeah. He wanted to hear those cute little noises she made when she came. He wanted to hear them now.
But more than that, he wanted her. Only her. All of her. He admired her control-freak nature, he’d found it a turn-on and he’d never want to break it, but tonight he wanted to bend that control. Just a little. To watch her fly apart and know he was responsible. He reached down between their bodies and with two swift tugs the last lacy barrier disappeared.
Her eyes went round with surprise, but only for a moment before her mouth kicked up at the corners. ‘That was my best pair of knickers. I wore them especially for you.’
‘And I appreciated them, believe me.’ Without taking his gaze off her, he grabbed the condom packet, tore one open and sheathed himself. Something flickered at the edge of his consciousness, like sheet lightning on the ocean’s horizon on a sultry summer night. Olivia wasn’t like other women he slept with. And tomorrow— Nuh. He reached for her. She was here now, she wanted him, and for tonight she was his.
As his hands gripped her waist and lifted her hips she drew in a sharp breath and Olivia saw doubt cross his gaze. Still gripping his shoulders to support herself on arms that had started to tremble, she met his eyes. ‘It’s okay.’
He slowed, setting her down carefully on his belly. ‘Please tell me you’ve done this before.’
Heat rushed to her cheeks. ‘I have. But not often.’ She bit her lips then said, ‘I’m sorry.’
Dark eyes searched hers, brows lowered. ‘What are you apologising for this time?’
‘Because...I’m not very good.’ Her most intimate parts on full view, she’d never felt more exposed. Except he wasn’t looking at her intimate parts; his gaze was focused on her eyes.
‘Who the hell told you that?’
‘Jason... An ex-boyfriend. He said...’
‘He was an idiot and he was wrong. And you’re not getting away from me that easily.’
‘Really?’ Relief washed through her.
‘Really.’ A corner of his mouth lifted and he touched her cheek. ‘We’ll take it slow.’ With an infinitely tender gaze, one she’d never thought Jett capable of, he drew her head down until their lips touched, ever so lightly. A butterfly’s kiss that soothed and enticed.
And for a rare and precious moment she felt like that emerging butterfly—shiny and new, treasured even. She felt as if he were kissing her for the first time, his lips surprisingly gentle and so, so sweet, fingers tangling lightly in her hair and drawing it down so the tips caressed his shoulders. Creating a curtain so that all she could see when she lifted her lips and opened her eyes was the perfection of his face.
‘Everything okay?’ he murmured.
‘I just want to look at you.’ He stared at her and again she sensed his hesitation. ‘Don’t freak out,’ she said tight-lipped. ‘I have no interest in long term either, if that’s what you’re wondering.’
‘Here isn’t the right place for this.’ Somehow he managed to push up, tucking her against him. She clung to his neck as he carried her across the entertainment area, down a short passage and into a luxury bedroom.
She got a glimpse of a massive bed piled with cushions and strewn with discarded clothes but then he tumbled her onto a cool cotton quilt and followed her down.
Stark white street lights shone through shuttered windows throwing silver bars across the bed as he stretched out, pulling her on top of him again, but slowly and close so that every exquisitely sensitive part of her slid along every hard and hot and masculine part of him.
Jett kept his hands casual and easy, his movements slow and loose, but heat glimmered beneath skin, a banked fire—one spark and they’d both ignite. ‘Just so you know, I want you too,’ he murmured.
A purely female smile tugged at her lips. ‘It’s kind of obvious.’ She straddled him again, one hand in the centre of his chest as she wriggled downwards. ‘And while I’m on top I’m going to take full advantage.’
‘I meant...’ That swift silvery tug had snagged him mid-sternum. Caught him unawares. ‘You’re one of a kind.’
Her apricot fragrance surrounded him with warmth—and something more. It took a heartbeat or two to recognise it. Familiarity. And intimacy that went beyond the physical. He was unaccustomed to both. Solitary was his life. No hassles, no heartaches.