and braced her back up against the door, held her upright with an iron grip. “Would you prefer ‘Coz’?”
The man had no idea how lucky he was she didn’t have a gun. Cait wondered if her expression looked as murderous to Jackson as it felt to her. If it did, he ignored it—or more probably enjoyed it. A wicked glint lit his eyes as his hands slid down to her waist. His grip on her tightened. Terrific. On top of everything else, he was wrinkling her designer suit! She squirmed in his hold, but squirmed more—inside—at the electric tingles his touch always sparked in her. Damn him.
“So, anyway,” he continued, as though they were chatting about the weather. Like they ever chatted about anything—hah! “With everyone off, it’ll be just the two of us here. A nice cozy little reunion, huh?” A sinful smile appeared on his face, and Cait realized, too late to even try to fight free, she was in deep shit. “Now why don’t you give your new ‘cousin’ a proper hello.”
Oh, God…
His mouth ground down on hers, muffling her scream.
* * *
Jackson, you are making a big, big mistake.
The voice of his conscience, and probably right. Jackson knew that. What he couldn’t figure was why he kept on making it anyway.
He hadn’t really meant to kiss her—just pretend to because he’d known how royally it would piss off Her High and Mightiness. But feeling her shiver under his hands, seeing her eyes widen and glare at him like he was some kind of rabid beast… Hell, the urge to act like one—to prove her correct—had been too damn tempting to resist. Cait always had brought out the worst in him. They were like two live wires. Touch them together and the sparks never failed to fly.
She wriggled against him in a weak effort to resist. But too weak to be serious—he knew her well enough for that. In reality, her “resistance” pressed her closer. She moaned as his tongue invaded her mouth. At the throaty sound, naked lust slammed through him, and suddenly all he could think of was getting her naked, too.
Bad move, Jackson , his conscience warned.
Yeah, real bad. So bad the zipper of his fly threatened to burst. His cock had its priorities straight even if confusion ruled the rest of him. How could one woman so infuriate and inflame him at the same time?
She’d filled out since he’d last seen her, but it looked good on her. Too good. God help him, it felt even better. Whoa, mama, what an armful of luscious curves. What fire and fury in the way she took his sensual assault and returned it with interest, straining up on her toes and squashing her breasts against his chest…her tongue dueling with his…her expensive manicure raking up his biceps, over his shoulders and down his back.
A big, beautiful blonde bombshell all set to explode.
How fast could he get her inside the house and out of her clothes?
You’ll be sorrrry—
Shut up, conscience.
In record time, and one-handed, he managed to unhook his keys from his belt, grope behind her, and blindly unlock the door. Speed was of the essence here because the more time he allowed for thinking, the greater the likelihood she’d stop him. Or he’d stop himself. From puberty onward they’d played this game, and it had always ended in a stalemate of steamy frustration.
The physical attraction was there in spades, but so was the personality conflict. Their contempt for one another had never let them get beyond kissing. The second either of them opened their mouth for anything else, the sexual bubble popped.
It almost popped now.
Cait came to her senses, slapped her palms against his chest and shoved away. “No! We’re not starting this shit. I—”
A heavy body hit the other side of the door, making a loud thud punctuated by a single bass woof.
She shot him a horrified look. “What the hell was that?”
Something that would drive her straight back into his arms and keep her there long enough to get her in bed, if he moved quickly.
The man had no idea how lucky he was she didn’t have a gun. Cait wondered if her expression looked as murderous to Jackson as it felt to her. If it did, he ignored it—or more probably enjoyed it. A wicked glint lit his eyes as his hands slid down to her waist. His grip on her tightened. Terrific. On top of everything else, he was wrinkling her designer suit! She squirmed in his hold, but squirmed more—inside—at the electric tingles his touch always sparked in her. Damn him.
“So, anyway,” he continued, as though they were chatting about the weather. Like they ever chatted about anything—hah! “With everyone off, it’ll be just the two of us here. A nice cozy little reunion, huh?” A sinful smile appeared on his face, and Cait realized, too late to even try to fight free, she was in deep shit. “Now why don’t you give your new ‘cousin’ a proper hello.”
Oh, God…
His mouth ground down on hers, muffling her scream.
* * *
Jackson, you are making a big, big mistake.
The voice of his conscience, and probably right. Jackson knew that. What he couldn’t figure was why he kept on making it anyway.
He hadn’t really meant to kiss her—just pretend to because he’d known how royally it would piss off Her High and Mightiness. But feeling her shiver under his hands, seeing her eyes widen and glare at him like he was some kind of rabid beast… Hell, the urge to act like one—to prove her correct—had been too damn tempting to resist. Cait always had brought out the worst in him. They were like two live wires. Touch them together and the sparks never failed to fly.
She wriggled against him in a weak effort to resist. But too weak to be serious—he knew her well enough for that. In reality, her “resistance” pressed her closer. She moaned as his tongue invaded her mouth. At the throaty sound, naked lust slammed through him, and suddenly all he could think of was getting her naked, too.
Bad move, Jackson , his conscience warned.
Yeah, real bad. So bad the zipper of his fly threatened to burst. His cock had its priorities straight even if confusion ruled the rest of him. How could one woman so infuriate and inflame him at the same time?
She’d filled out since he’d last seen her, but it looked good on her. Too good. God help him, it felt even better. Whoa, mama, what an armful of luscious curves. What fire and fury in the way she took his sensual assault and returned it with interest, straining up on her toes and squashing her breasts against his chest…her tongue dueling with his…her expensive manicure raking up his biceps, over his shoulders and down his back.
A big, beautiful blonde bombshell all set to explode.
How fast could he get her inside the house and out of her clothes?
You’ll be sorrrry—
Shut up, conscience.
In record time, and one-handed, he managed to unhook his keys from his belt, grope behind her, and blindly unlock the door. Speed was of the essence here because the more time he allowed for thinking, the greater the likelihood she’d stop him. Or he’d stop himself. From puberty onward they’d played this game, and it had always ended in a stalemate of steamy frustration.
The physical attraction was there in spades, but so was the personality conflict. Their contempt for one another had never let them get beyond kissing. The second either of them opened their mouth for anything else, the sexual bubble popped.
It almost popped now.
Cait came to her senses, slapped her palms against his chest and shoved away. “No! We’re not starting this shit. I—”
A heavy body hit the other side of the door, making a loud thud punctuated by a single bass woof.
She shot him a horrified look. “What the hell was that?”
Something that would drive her straight back into his arms and keep her there long enough to get her in bed, if he moved quickly.
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