inked arms.
"Lace, baby?" he asked again and, this time, I looked into his eyes. Deep brown eyes that were heated, almost glowing, and I realized that he was on a different level than I was operating on.
As that thought scored my brain, I felt the air in my tiny bath fill with tension. A tension, oh heavenly blueberries, a sexy tension that mirrored what I'd felt earlier. The same tension that had filled the hall when he came in.
Then he reached for me.
His hand snaked out and caught me around my waist yanking the tie of the robe, letting it fall off before he hauled me into the shower stall, his large body blocking the flow of water.
"You're overdressed for the party you've dragged me to, baby," his smooth, deep voice mumbled thickly. I felt his hands catch the hem of my camisole, drawing it up, over my head and completely out of the shower to land with a wet thud on the floor.
Without pause, he went to shove the boy-shorts down as well, yanking the fabric at my waist, but I quickly crossed my legs and twisted away preventing any further movement. I think he got that I wasn't down with getting naked, with his fumbling of my shorts, because his hands slowed before coming to rest on my hips.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded as I copied his move of hands to armpits, but it must be noted that my voice was high and breathy as I tried to speak and cover my breasts with my hands at the same time.
To his credit, he moved his hands to his head and looked at me, running his fingers through his now wet locks, pushing them off his forehead and out of his eyes.
"Trying to get you as naked as you got me," he said finally before bending down, his eyes catching mine. Only now he was frowning in confusion.
"Aren't you burnt?" I asked, using one hand to shove my, again, wet hair off my face as I tried to hide my bare chest at the same time.
He stared at me before slowly lowering his head even further as he growled, "Only by you, Lacey. Goddamn. Only by you, Baby."
His lips hit mine with a heat, a bone melting kind of heat that you often wonder about; wonder if there really is a body-fire that could liquefy your very bones.
I already knew he could kiss, from all the activity of the night before. I was already aware of the flames his hands generated when they moved over me.
But when we pressed together and were bare-skin to bare-skin, I would've been surprised, should've been shocked. That is, if I could've thought. My legs wobbled and his hands slid under my ass, a cheek in each of his large palms, pulling my body up until I had no choice except to wrap my legs around his waist, my arms twining around his neck.
It must be noted that throughout the whole maneuver, his tongue and mouth never left mine.
I'm here to say, that heat, that special kind of hotness you hear about, that you read about?
Yeah, it's real.
It's good.
Very, very good.
I only became aware of the doorbell when we changed position so Jax could twist the hot water on enough to prevent us both from freezing.
"Uh, doorbell," I whispered against his lips, my arms holding on for dear life since the hands on my ass, levering me up against the shower wall, were slowly releasing as he moved.
"Do you need to get it?" Jack asked pulling his head up, to look me in the eye.
"It might be a delivery," I admitted regretfully.
"Shit," he said as I slid down his body, feeling every bump, every indentation of his muscled form on my inner thighs, between my legs, as I moved. Especially against the hard length behind his wet briefs.
"Agreed," I said, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel, rubbing it over me before slipping into my robe. "Be right back."
I walked quickly to the stairs and bounded down, tying my robe firmly, determined to shoo whoever it was that was leaning on the doorbell as quickly as possible.
Before I was even halfway down, though, I heard it.
The voice.
"Goddamn it, Lacey. Get your motherfucking ass down here, now," I heard my
"Lace, baby?" he asked again and, this time, I looked into his eyes. Deep brown eyes that were heated, almost glowing, and I realized that he was on a different level than I was operating on.
As that thought scored my brain, I felt the air in my tiny bath fill with tension. A tension, oh heavenly blueberries, a sexy tension that mirrored what I'd felt earlier. The same tension that had filled the hall when he came in.
Then he reached for me.
His hand snaked out and caught me around my waist yanking the tie of the robe, letting it fall off before he hauled me into the shower stall, his large body blocking the flow of water.
"You're overdressed for the party you've dragged me to, baby," his smooth, deep voice mumbled thickly. I felt his hands catch the hem of my camisole, drawing it up, over my head and completely out of the shower to land with a wet thud on the floor.
Without pause, he went to shove the boy-shorts down as well, yanking the fabric at my waist, but I quickly crossed my legs and twisted away preventing any further movement. I think he got that I wasn't down with getting naked, with his fumbling of my shorts, because his hands slowed before coming to rest on my hips.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded as I copied his move of hands to armpits, but it must be noted that my voice was high and breathy as I tried to speak and cover my breasts with my hands at the same time.
To his credit, he moved his hands to his head and looked at me, running his fingers through his now wet locks, pushing them off his forehead and out of his eyes.
"Trying to get you as naked as you got me," he said finally before bending down, his eyes catching mine. Only now he was frowning in confusion.
"Aren't you burnt?" I asked, using one hand to shove my, again, wet hair off my face as I tried to hide my bare chest at the same time.
He stared at me before slowly lowering his head even further as he growled, "Only by you, Lacey. Goddamn. Only by you, Baby."
His lips hit mine with a heat, a bone melting kind of heat that you often wonder about; wonder if there really is a body-fire that could liquefy your very bones.
I already knew he could kiss, from all the activity of the night before. I was already aware of the flames his hands generated when they moved over me.
But when we pressed together and were bare-skin to bare-skin, I would've been surprised, should've been shocked. That is, if I could've thought. My legs wobbled and his hands slid under my ass, a cheek in each of his large palms, pulling my body up until I had no choice except to wrap my legs around his waist, my arms twining around his neck.
It must be noted that throughout the whole maneuver, his tongue and mouth never left mine.
I'm here to say, that heat, that special kind of hotness you hear about, that you read about?
Yeah, it's real.
It's good.
Very, very good.
I only became aware of the doorbell when we changed position so Jax could twist the hot water on enough to prevent us both from freezing.
"Uh, doorbell," I whispered against his lips, my arms holding on for dear life since the hands on my ass, levering me up against the shower wall, were slowly releasing as he moved.
"Do you need to get it?" Jack asked pulling his head up, to look me in the eye.
"It might be a delivery," I admitted regretfully.
"Shit," he said as I slid down his body, feeling every bump, every indentation of his muscled form on my inner thighs, between my legs, as I moved. Especially against the hard length behind his wet briefs.
"Agreed," I said, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel, rubbing it over me before slipping into my robe. "Be right back."
I walked quickly to the stairs and bounded down, tying my robe firmly, determined to shoo whoever it was that was leaning on the doorbell as quickly as possible.
Before I was even halfway down, though, I heard it.
The voice.
"Goddamn it, Lacey. Get your motherfucking ass down here, now," I heard my
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