Bad Girl Lessons by Seraphina Donavan, Wicked Muse Page A

buttoned placket gaping and offering a tantalizing glimpse of her lush breasts.
    “That shirt has never looked better,” he said, as he began to unbutton each button. Every inch of skin that was bared was teased and tormented by his fingertips. He skated the callused pads of his fingers over every inch of her, except the parts that ached for his touch. His touch on her breasts was light, grazing and he deliberately avoided touching her pebbled nipples.
    “God, you make me so crazy!”
    He laughed softly, his breath hot against her skin. “In a good way?”
    She slid her hands into his hair and arched her back, offering her breasts to him. “Sometimes.”
    Jackson eagerly accepted her invitation, taking one taut peak into his mouth and scoring it gently with his teeth. He might have though her answering hiss had been one of pain had she not arched her hips against him in a blatant offering. He gripped her arms, bringing them over her head and clasping both her wrists in one hand. “You are supposed to be still and rest... Doctor’s orders.”
    “Make me.”
    “Witch,” he murmured, turning his attention to her other nipple, treating it to the same sweet torment.
    “Slut is probably a more accurate description at this point.”
    He laughed then, “Jesus, you say some things! Slut isn’t a very poetic term... How about Jezebel?”
    “You can call me anything you want as long as you do it with your cock inside me,” she said with a taunting grin.
    With that simple statement, she sent every drop of blood in his body straight to his cock. He didn’t even take off his clothes, he simply unzipped the jeans he’d tugged on that morning and took her. It should have been more gentle. He should have been more careful with her, but his emotions were running too hot and so were hers. They clung to one another, riding out the surge of passion and adrenaline. As she came, her body shuddering around him, the words were just there. He wanted desperately to tell her how much he loved her, but it was too much and too soon. So he bit them back and contented himself with holding her while they both trembled together in the aftermath.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
    Evie strolled through the Oak Room of the country club. Her back ached, her feet were killing her, and she had smiled so much she felt like Jack Nicholson in Batman. Fundraising was a part of her job and she normally enjoyed it, but given the events of the past week, it was hellish to be the center of the gossipy crowd’s attention. It was not exactly how she’d wanted to spend her evening. Not only was she fielding questions about the wedding that wasn’t, but she was having to field the questions about Lisa’s murder and all the questions about what had happened to her face. Then there were the hungry eyed cougars who kept talking about how wonderful Jackson looked in a suit and tie.
    Cass approached her with a glass of champagne. “How the hell do you get al these rich people to just open their wallets for you?”
    Evie chuckled, “I appeal to their love of Gone With the Wind. Everyone in this room secretly fancies themselves as Scarlett, Rhett or Ashley.”
    “And you’re their Melanie.”
    “Say what you will about Melanie, she managed to get all of them to do what she wanted,” Evie replied. “Let’s step outside for a minute. I need to stop smiling before my face breaks.”
    Cass led the way to the terrace. The humid air actual felt good after the chilly air conditioning. “So, Jackson looks good enough to eat in that suit. How’d you convince him to come here? He hates the country club.”
    “I just asked,” Evie responded. They were alone on the terrace. Most people, especially those that had been partaking heartily of the champagne, preferred the indoors. “I think I’m in trouble, Cass. I’m in so far over my head, I can’t even tell which way is up.”
    With an eye roll, Cass responded, “Honey, you’ve been