You Don't Know Jack (Page 14)

“Sorry, it’s just that you should—”

Jamie cut him off with another quick kiss. She wanted to hear what his last name was. But later. After they’d gotten naked and she wasn’t as likely to be adversely affected by the news that his name was something like Jack Daniels or Jack Grosse or Jack Yacks. Or something completely unpronounceable with twenty-seven letters, most of which were consonants.

She wasn’t vain, and while a regrettable name like Jonathon Huffheimer wasn’t cause for celebration, it would never stop her from dating someone. But later. “It doesn’t matter. Not yet. Tell me later. I don’t want to talk right now. I want to go upstairs.”

Before she lost the sassiness she seemed to have borrowed from Allison. Flattening her hands on his chest, she said, “I’m so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open.”

But it was his eyes that closed, not hers, and his hand pressed hard into her shoulder. His lips moved as though he was counting to ten.

Then he opened his eyes and said in a husky, urgent voice, “Then we should definitely get you right to my bed.”

What a gentleman. Always thinking of her needs.

“How sweet of you.”

Chapter 5

Sweet. Yeah, that was him.

Hell, he was thirty seconds away from taking her in the elevator.

Jack wondered if Jamie really understood the enormity of her appeal. She was an amazing mix of sultry and innocent, seductive and selfless. She was the sweet one. But she was also so damn sexy with her curvy hips, slow smiles, and rich, honest laugh.

He tried to tell himself he should wait—take her out a few more times before they took it to this level—but she had seemed so damn willing. She’d even gotten impatient with his attempted confession. He hadn’t intended to tell her he knew who she was, but wanted her to figure it out on her own just by hearing his last name. But she hadn’t wanted to hear even that, and all thoughts of waiting had flown out his mental window.

Why torture himself when she was perfectly willing to sleep with him?

Any idiot should be able to figure that out.

Gorgeous woman agrees to second date and hot morning sex. What do you do?

He didn’t need his high SAT score to answer that question.

Grab a condom and go for it.

They were barely onto the elevator and he was licking her bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth to suck gently.

He groaned.

She groaned.

His hands were itching to land on her breasts, but he forced himself to take it slow.

If ransacking her hair, grinding against her, and sliding his tongue into her mouth could be considered taking it slow.

It took a Herculean effort to pull back.

Then he wasn’t sure why he bothered. Jamie looked so frickin’ perky and ready, primed for him. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide, curls tumbling all over the place. Her breasts rose and fell, the flower on her shirt straining forward, its petals twining around her very obvious nipples.

“You are so beautiful,” he panted, like a thirsty Collie.

Without warning, or any instruction from her, his hand shot out and stroked her. Right at the tip. Of the petal.

The sound she made was a cross between a whimper and a squeak. He took it as a good thing.

“Jamie,” he said, trying to find some way to express himself beyond his obvious drooling in her presence. Without confessing that he had the sudden bizarre and almost frightening feeling that in the past eighteen hours he had lost his mind, his heart, his sanity.

That it was just possible he could fall in love with her. In the next five minutes.

Her lips parted. Her little pink tongue slipped out and moistened them, rolling around the plump flesh in a way that left Jack thinking there was a much better place she could put that.

Damn. Shoving her against the elevator wall so he could grind his hard cock against her thighs, he buried his hands in her glorious hair. He pushed his kiss on her, a greedy, selfish kiss, tongue hot and moist and anxious inside her. Part of him knew he was being rough, but that rationale was drowned under desperate lust, under fierce need to take what Jamie had offered so sweetly.

Before she changed her mind. Before he came to his senses and realized he could hurt her by not telling her the truth.

That thought had him crushing her against him, consuming her mouth, wanting to keep her close. He was shocked at himself, at the irrational intensity of his feelings, at the complete impulsiveness of his actions, not a usual personality trait.

But he was also a risk taker. As a businessman, he weighed the odds, took chances, rotated millions of dollars at the risk of losing it all, and he was good at that. He had killer instincts. And his instincts here told him, Take her, take her, take her, you’ll never regret it.

Her fingers had risen to grip the front of his shirt, but she jerked back when the elevator opened, breaking the kiss. “I can’t breathe, Jack.” Her lips were wet and glistening, her big green eyes wide, dark.

“Breathing’s overrated,” he told her, but he did let go of her, clench his fists, rein in his control. Counted to ten mentally. Pictured Jamie walking out if he didn’t ease up.

But damn, it was hard when she was so near, so perfect, so ripe.

“After you. Third door on the right.”

She gave him a closed-lip smile over her shoulder, and with one of the hall lights blown, half her face was left in a dusky haze. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe her, sensual an understatement. She was more than he had words for, lovelier than he could ever express.

It only took sixty seconds to open his door, usher her in, and slam it closed. Then he was on her, cupping her face with both his hands and kissing her with everything in him.

She gave a soft moan before lifting her arms to his shoulders, nails digging in. He moved in closer and closer, edging her feet apart with his legs, control shot to hell, the taste of her so tantalizing that he felt drunk with desire.

He kissed her deep, hard, again and again, their mouths slapping together.

Then her tongue slid along his lip in a sexy little lick, shocking him. Go, Jamie. He felt that show of aggression from her gave him the right to touch her breast in return.

So he fulfilled his two-day-long fantasy by spreading his fingers over the whole of her luscious breast and cupping it. It felt better than it looked.

It didn’t seem like that was possible, but it did.

Her head fell back, offering an inviting view of her long, creamy neck.

His hand still happy and full, Jack bent his head so that he could suck on her neck, pressing kisses everywhere, his tongue trailing along her clavicle. She shuddered beneath him, and he felt his own control further evaporating.