Be Careful What You Wish For by Jade C. Jamison Page A

way I was consuming his lips, but I had to have him.  It felt like it had been far too long.  I moved my hands down and wrapped my fists around the opening of his leather jacket, holding him close, and I could feel a few snowflakes land on my eyelashes and cheeks.  He was taking the brunt of the snow, but I wouldn’t have felt cold anyway.
    Still, he said, “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
    I smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from his truck.  He was barely able to close the door, because I was in a hurry to get him inside so I could rip his clothes off.  As we approached the door of my ground floor apartment, I said, “We have to be quiet, because one of my roommates will be home and she is more than likely asleep.”
    I heard a throaty chuckle come from behind my right ear as his arm slipped around my waist.  I was trying to guide the key in the lock but I was finding him to be damned distracting.  His voice was low in my ear when he said, “I can be quiet, but I can’t promise not to make you scream.”
    I couldn’t stop my eyes from closing as I sucked in a breath, warm air from his mouth tantalizing against my neck.  My nipples tightened again, begging for his touch, whether it would be rough or gentle.  I swallowed, trying to concentrate, as the key found the hole and I slid it in…but all that did was make me hungry for him, a poor metaphor for what I wanted him to do to me.
    We made it in the apartment.  I could see the tiny lights of the DVD player and cable box and a little light spilling in through the sheer living room curtains, and, as we headed toward my bedroom, I saw that there was no light coming from under Steph’s bedroom door either.  Either she was out or she was asleep.  I knew Lindsey was gone as well.  For all I knew, we had the place to ourselves.
    The tiny nightlight we kept in the bathroom was on, and it helped guide me to my bedroom.  I opened the door and felt for the light switch, flipping it on.   And then I began attacking him.  I couldn’t resist him anymore, and my kisses were frantic, desperate.  I felt him wind his fingers through my hair and then he made a fist at the back of my head.  The hairs that were coiled in his hand tightened and weren’t quite painful but would be if I struggled and pulled.  He said, “We have all night.  No need to rush.”  His emerald eyes drank me in and he leaned over to kiss me, his fist still tangled in my hair.  He sucked on my bottom lip and then released it as the breath flowed out of my body like a lazy river.  His lips moved to my chin and traced my jawline before moving down my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake.
    My breathing, though—it was ragged as my body begged him to put me out of my misery.  As his mouth tasted the flesh at my neck, his free hand worked on the buttons on my blouse, already gaping at the cleavage.  His fingers worked masterfully on the buttons in spite of using his non-dominant hand, but I supposed playing bass helped with that.  He was used to using his hands in conjunction to accomplish some greater task.  His lips found my breasts, covered by a bra that was barely there, and my fingers tightened around his jacket.
    He trailed his tongue back up to my neck and breathed, “Think we can be patient now?”
    I smiled and then bit my lip.  As his eyes rose to meet mine, I said, “I can’t make any promises.”
    He smirked and took me in a kiss, releasing his hold on my hair but picking me up off the floor by sliding an arm under my ass.  I clenched my legs around his torso, hoping the friction and heat of my underside against his musculature would offer some relief, but he lay me on the bed in seconds, depriving me of that fantasy in short order.  I lifted my head off the bed to meet his lips, but he shied away, smiling.  What a tease.  He moved in slowly and then kissed me, and I hesitated to respond, but when I knew his kiss was sincere, I took him