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Authors: Olivia Dade
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Year’s Eve kiss, unless he either hit another party or redefined his sexuality. Eyeing him warily, she edged closer to Jack.
She was projecting television coverage of the New Year’s Eve celebration in Times Square on the wall of the library. The one-minute countdown had just started, and the ball slowly began to drop. Avoiding the eyes of all the men, she stared at the wall. Her thoughts raced. Would Jack stay after the others left? And if he did, what would she do? Had he managed to convince her to break her resolution before it even began?
She didn’t know. Ever since they’d posed together for the photo, she couldn’t sort out her thoughts. Couldn’t tell if the tension building between them was compromising her judgment and leading her to do something rash. Something that could hurt her. Something . . . hot. The image of him kneeling before her, his hands behind his back and his head pressed to her center, flashed in her mind. She fanned herself with her hand. So very hot.
Thirty seconds until midnight.
In her peripheral vision, she could see movement. Red Tie was reaching for her hand, while Cologne Guy had lifted an arm to place around her shoulders. Pretend Pirate Clarence had pulled on his eye patch, and the one eye she could see was looking her way and getting closer.
Really, her New Year’s resolution to swear off men seemed to be having some sort of paradoxical effect.
“Back off,” Jack told them, his voice rough with command.
Cologne Guy and Clarence obeyed, but Red Tie took her hand before she could pull it away.
“Julian.” Jack moved, putting his body between Red Tie and her. “Let her go. Now. Or we have a problem.”
Ten seconds.
With a muttered grumble, Red Tie released her hand.
Jack put down his champagne glass and stepped in front of her. As the crowd on the television counted down and cheered, he cupped her face with both his hands and moved closer. She was drowning in his scent, a combination of soap and something else she couldn’t identify. Something delicious. The skirt of her dress brushed his jeans, and his boots nudged her flats. If she tilted her hips upward just the tiniest bit.... Yes. She could feel the heat radiating from him. The tense muscles in his legs. The growing hardness behind his zipper.
One second.
Jack bent his head. His lips brushed against hers, soft and insistent, as his thumbs stroked the hot skin over her temples and cheekbones. She opened for him without thought, welcoming the slow sweep of his tongue over her bottom lip. Strawberries. He tasted like the strawberries on the snack table, with a hint of the chocolate that had covered the fruit. His tongue ventured further into her mouth, coaxing her own tongue to play and twine around his.
Vaguely, she could hear the cheers and singing from the Times Square celebration. With one last, lingering press of his lips against hers, Jack released her mouth. He kept her face cradled in his hands, though, and he looked down at her with an expression she’d never seen in any other man’s eyes. At least not directed at her.
Wonder. Desire. Intent. Anxiety. It was all there, shouting at her from his eyes and face. He looked determined, but also . . . vulnerable. As if he were waiting for her to hurt him.
But that made no sense. How could she hurt him? And why would she, even if she could?
A nearby throat cleared, and she jerked away from Jack. His hands fell from her face, and her cheeks suddenly felt cold, even though she knew she was blushing.
“Now seems like a good time to make my exit,” Cologne Guy said. “But you should expect to see me around the library. If things don’t work out . . .” He trailed off, and bent to kiss her cheek.
Unable to speak, she watched him give her a sad little wave and leave the library.
“Yarrrrr, it be another lonely night for this buccaneer,” Pretend Pirate Clarence said before gathering his coat and turning for the door. “But thank ye kindly for ye
She was projecting television coverage of the New Year’s Eve celebration in Times Square on the wall of the library. The one-minute countdown had just started, and the ball slowly began to drop. Avoiding the eyes of all the men, she stared at the wall. Her thoughts raced. Would Jack stay after the others left? And if he did, what would she do? Had he managed to convince her to break her resolution before it even began?
She didn’t know. Ever since they’d posed together for the photo, she couldn’t sort out her thoughts. Couldn’t tell if the tension building between them was compromising her judgment and leading her to do something rash. Something that could hurt her. Something . . . hot. The image of him kneeling before her, his hands behind his back and his head pressed to her center, flashed in her mind. She fanned herself with her hand. So very hot.
Thirty seconds until midnight.
In her peripheral vision, she could see movement. Red Tie was reaching for her hand, while Cologne Guy had lifted an arm to place around her shoulders. Pretend Pirate Clarence had pulled on his eye patch, and the one eye she could see was looking her way and getting closer.
Really, her New Year’s resolution to swear off men seemed to be having some sort of paradoxical effect.
“Back off,” Jack told them, his voice rough with command.
Cologne Guy and Clarence obeyed, but Red Tie took her hand before she could pull it away.
“Julian.” Jack moved, putting his body between Red Tie and her. “Let her go. Now. Or we have a problem.”
Ten seconds.
With a muttered grumble, Red Tie released her hand.
Jack put down his champagne glass and stepped in front of her. As the crowd on the television counted down and cheered, he cupped her face with both his hands and moved closer. She was drowning in his scent, a combination of soap and something else she couldn’t identify. Something delicious. The skirt of her dress brushed his jeans, and his boots nudged her flats. If she tilted her hips upward just the tiniest bit.... Yes. She could feel the heat radiating from him. The tense muscles in his legs. The growing hardness behind his zipper.
One second.
Jack bent his head. His lips brushed against hers, soft and insistent, as his thumbs stroked the hot skin over her temples and cheekbones. She opened for him without thought, welcoming the slow sweep of his tongue over her bottom lip. Strawberries. He tasted like the strawberries on the snack table, with a hint of the chocolate that had covered the fruit. His tongue ventured further into her mouth, coaxing her own tongue to play and twine around his.
Vaguely, she could hear the cheers and singing from the Times Square celebration. With one last, lingering press of his lips against hers, Jack released her mouth. He kept her face cradled in his hands, though, and he looked down at her with an expression she’d never seen in any other man’s eyes. At least not directed at her.
Wonder. Desire. Intent. Anxiety. It was all there, shouting at her from his eyes and face. He looked determined, but also . . . vulnerable. As if he were waiting for her to hurt him.
But that made no sense. How could she hurt him? And why would she, even if she could?
A nearby throat cleared, and she jerked away from Jack. His hands fell from her face, and her cheeks suddenly felt cold, even though she knew she was blushing.
“Now seems like a good time to make my exit,” Cologne Guy said. “But you should expect to see me around the library. If things don’t work out . . .” He trailed off, and bent to kiss her cheek.
Unable to speak, she watched him give her a sad little wave and leave the library.
“Yarrrrr, it be another lonely night for this buccaneer,” Pretend Pirate Clarence said before gathering his coat and turning for the door. “But thank ye kindly for ye
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