Savor the Danger
Page 47
She nodded. “Yes.” But she didn’t move.
Jackson smiled at her—and stood. Keeping her gaze locked in his, he unbuckled his thick, heavy belt.
Her eyes flared wide.
Reaching to the small of his back, he held the holster and slid the black leather belt from the loops on his jeans. He took the Beretta from the holster so he could keep it with him, but put the holster and belt, along with the knife from his boot, on her nightstand.
Her gaze traveled all over his body, but she asked, “What are you going to do with the gun?”
“Nothing, I hope. But where I go, the gun goes.” Bare-chested and barefoot, he closed the space between them. This near to her, he could smell the lotion she’d used, and the subtler, sexier scent of her skin and hair, and her growing arousal. He let his gaze wander over her, from her smooth, narrow shoulders, over her upper chest, still dewy from the shower, down to her cle**age, enhanced by her white-knuckled grip on the towel.
He’d had a lot of wants in his lifetime, some basic, some frivolous, many carnal. But nothing compared to how he wanted her.
Keeping the gun away from her, he reached up with his free hand and, with the backs of his knuckles, brushed a few escaped tendrils of hair away from her temple. His hand shook. With her hair up, he could see the wild thrumming of her pulse in her throat.
With one finger, he touched her knuckles. “You okay, darlin’? You look like you might faint on me.” He trailed that teasing finger up and over the exposed swells of her br**sts. “I’d sooner you be wide awake and participating, you know? Maybe giving me a nice moan or two.”
“I was just… I forgot to bring a robe with me into the bathroom, so I didn’t…”
Little by little, he pried her fingers loose. He imagined those soft, graceful fingers circling around his cock, holding him tight, and his stomach took a free fall while his muscles contracted.
Locking down his iron control, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Let’s lose the towel, okay?” He put her hand on his upper arm and, going slow, unwrapped the towel, holding it out at her sides, drinking in the sight of her nudity. “Damn, woman, you make me salivate.”
She swayed toward him, but he stepped back, keeping enough space between them that he could look his fill. “Not yet.” She wanted to protect her heart against him, she wanted “no strings.” Fine. He’d manage it. Somehow.
But it wouldn’t be easy when he had the overwhelming urge to gather her close and promise insane things, when he wanted so much in return. Lust surged through his veins, but it wasn’t at the forefront of what he felt.
Instead a mishmash of sensations threatened to lay him low.
She shivered, so he asked, “You cold?”
Face downcast, she shook her head.
“Your ni**les are tight.” He wanted to feel them against his chest; he wanted them in his mouth so he could draw on her, tugging and sucking… He dropped the towel and put both hands on her br**sts, closing his eyes a moment as he absorbed the silken feel of her, her shuddering response and his own.
He thumbed both puckered ni**les, lightly pressed them between finger and thumb, gently pulled—and heard her gasp. Holding her like that, with her ni**les caught, he murmured, “Still sore?”
Again she shook her head and, if anything, turned her face farther away.
He forced his attention up from her br**sts to her averted face. “Alani?”
Her fingertips bit into his biceps. She said nothing.
Jackson cuddled her br**sts one last time and released them. That caused her to gasp, too, and again she swayed.
The easy way she fired up could burn him alive.
Using the edge of his fist, he raised her face so she had no choice but to look at him, to let him see her thoughts and her reservations.
Her eyes were velvety soft, heavy. “I need to know, honey. Is it bad memories, or are you just feeling shy?”
“No bad memories. It’s just that I’m not…” Her tongue slipped over her upper lip and she took several breaths. “I’m not used to being naked in front of anyone.”
“So shy, but not uncomfortable?”
“No.”
“Good.” He smiled with determination. “You’ll get used to me looking at you, because you’re going to be naked in front of me a lot.” And because he felt bitter over her stipulation that they keep things impersonal, he added, “It’s part of experimenting.”
She looked distressed for only a heartbeat.
“I’ll push you.” Hell, he pushed himself with this insane sensual torture. “But I’ll make certain that you love every second of it, and that’s a promise I can keep.”
Nodding in acceptance of that, she pressed in close to him, her arms going around his bare back, those stiffened ni**les teasing him. Knowing she couldn’t see him or his over-the-top reaction to holding her like this, Jackson closed his eyes and folded his arms protectively around her.
Possessiveness rode him hard. He couldn’t see the future, he didn’t know how she’d deal with Arizona once he got around to telling her, but for now, for this moment, she was his and his alone.
“If at any point you get uncertain about things, I want you to tell me.” After what she’d been through, after living a nightmare, bad feelings and memories were bound to surface, triggered by God knew what. “This is for pleasure. Your pleasure, Alani. Understand?”
Jackson smiled at her—and stood. Keeping her gaze locked in his, he unbuckled his thick, heavy belt.
Her eyes flared wide.
Reaching to the small of his back, he held the holster and slid the black leather belt from the loops on his jeans. He took the Beretta from the holster so he could keep it with him, but put the holster and belt, along with the knife from his boot, on her nightstand.
Her gaze traveled all over his body, but she asked, “What are you going to do with the gun?”
“Nothing, I hope. But where I go, the gun goes.” Bare-chested and barefoot, he closed the space between them. This near to her, he could smell the lotion she’d used, and the subtler, sexier scent of her skin and hair, and her growing arousal. He let his gaze wander over her, from her smooth, narrow shoulders, over her upper chest, still dewy from the shower, down to her cle**age, enhanced by her white-knuckled grip on the towel.
He’d had a lot of wants in his lifetime, some basic, some frivolous, many carnal. But nothing compared to how he wanted her.
Keeping the gun away from her, he reached up with his free hand and, with the backs of his knuckles, brushed a few escaped tendrils of hair away from her temple. His hand shook. With her hair up, he could see the wild thrumming of her pulse in her throat.
With one finger, he touched her knuckles. “You okay, darlin’? You look like you might faint on me.” He trailed that teasing finger up and over the exposed swells of her br**sts. “I’d sooner you be wide awake and participating, you know? Maybe giving me a nice moan or two.”
“I was just… I forgot to bring a robe with me into the bathroom, so I didn’t…”
Little by little, he pried her fingers loose. He imagined those soft, graceful fingers circling around his cock, holding him tight, and his stomach took a free fall while his muscles contracted.
Locking down his iron control, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Let’s lose the towel, okay?” He put her hand on his upper arm and, going slow, unwrapped the towel, holding it out at her sides, drinking in the sight of her nudity. “Damn, woman, you make me salivate.”
She swayed toward him, but he stepped back, keeping enough space between them that he could look his fill. “Not yet.” She wanted to protect her heart against him, she wanted “no strings.” Fine. He’d manage it. Somehow.
But it wouldn’t be easy when he had the overwhelming urge to gather her close and promise insane things, when he wanted so much in return. Lust surged through his veins, but it wasn’t at the forefront of what he felt.
Instead a mishmash of sensations threatened to lay him low.
She shivered, so he asked, “You cold?”
Face downcast, she shook her head.
“Your ni**les are tight.” He wanted to feel them against his chest; he wanted them in his mouth so he could draw on her, tugging and sucking… He dropped the towel and put both hands on her br**sts, closing his eyes a moment as he absorbed the silken feel of her, her shuddering response and his own.
He thumbed both puckered ni**les, lightly pressed them between finger and thumb, gently pulled—and heard her gasp. Holding her like that, with her ni**les caught, he murmured, “Still sore?”
Again she shook her head and, if anything, turned her face farther away.
He forced his attention up from her br**sts to her averted face. “Alani?”
Her fingertips bit into his biceps. She said nothing.
Jackson cuddled her br**sts one last time and released them. That caused her to gasp, too, and again she swayed.
The easy way she fired up could burn him alive.
Using the edge of his fist, he raised her face so she had no choice but to look at him, to let him see her thoughts and her reservations.
Her eyes were velvety soft, heavy. “I need to know, honey. Is it bad memories, or are you just feeling shy?”
“No bad memories. It’s just that I’m not…” Her tongue slipped over her upper lip and she took several breaths. “I’m not used to being naked in front of anyone.”
“So shy, but not uncomfortable?”
“No.”
“Good.” He smiled with determination. “You’ll get used to me looking at you, because you’re going to be naked in front of me a lot.” And because he felt bitter over her stipulation that they keep things impersonal, he added, “It’s part of experimenting.”
She looked distressed for only a heartbeat.
“I’ll push you.” Hell, he pushed himself with this insane sensual torture. “But I’ll make certain that you love every second of it, and that’s a promise I can keep.”
Nodding in acceptance of that, she pressed in close to him, her arms going around his bare back, those stiffened ni**les teasing him. Knowing she couldn’t see him or his over-the-top reaction to holding her like this, Jackson closed his eyes and folded his arms protectively around her.
Possessiveness rode him hard. He couldn’t see the future, he didn’t know how she’d deal with Arizona once he got around to telling her, but for now, for this moment, she was his and his alone.
“If at any point you get uncertain about things, I want you to tell me.” After what she’d been through, after living a nightmare, bad feelings and memories were bound to surface, triggered by God knew what. “This is for pleasure. Your pleasure, Alani. Understand?”
