Home To You by Robin Kaye Page B

kiss was so soft, if not for the warmth of her lips, he could have believed he’d imagined it—until he breathed, dragging in the tantalizing scent of her. It wasn’t perfume; maybe it was her soap or shampoo, but her scent was just like her—light and fun with an unexpected hit of seduction that sneaks up on a guy and grabs him bythe throat. Her next kiss was less tentative, but no less innocent. God, she was sweet.
    His arms wrapped around her, dragging her up and over him as he lay back on the bed. When her hand fisted in his hair, he growled, and when he felt the weight of her body cover his, her breasts pillowed against his chest and her long legs straddling his hips, he lost his tenuous hold on the last frayed thread of his control. Jax took possession of her mouth like he’d dreamt about since she’d come crashing into his life. He cupped her head, changing the angle, and returned the kiss, which went from innocent to incendiary with one deep, hard stroke of his tongue. She tasted of coffee and toothpaste and desire.
    He slid a hand along her back, beneath the flannel shirt, amazed by the heat and softness of her skin. Had he ever paid attention to the feel of a woman’s skin before? If he had, he couldn’t recall. His hand explored each bump of her spine, the dip of her waist, and the dimples right below the loose waistband of her jeans. He wished he could trace the same path with his mouth.
    She slid higher, ground her pelvis into his, and damned if his dick didn’t jump for joy. It didn’t seem to matter that he might very well end up with a permanent zipper tattoo. All that mattered was the sweet sound she made and the way her eyes shot open in surprise and what looked like amazement. Her breathing came in gasps as he kissed her neck, tugging down the collar of her sweatshirt and surging against her heat, swallowing back a groan of his own. God, he didn’t think he’d ever been this hard with clothes on. He cursed the layers and layers of clothing separating them. All he wanted to do was touch,kiss, and lick her bare skin. Okay, that wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted all of her. He wanted her now. And he wanted her with a fierce, mindless urgency that rattled him and left him panting and shaking.
    Kendall rose above him, and, with one swift move, pulled both her shirt and sweatshirt off.
    For the second time in one day, all the air burst from his lungs. He stared and realized he’d never seen a woman as intrinsically beautiful as the one offering herself to him now. “God, you’re breathtaking.” And she was. Dark, almost black, hair fell over her beautifully shaped pale shoulders, teasing her collarbones. The baby-pink lace bra was incongruous with the outfit—but, then, he wasn’t sure if there were bras that would reflect denim and flannel. Her skin was opalescent, so pale; he could see the faint blue veins on the inside of her arms. Although he knew it was a mistake, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her just once more. But he knew all the same that if they went any further, she’d regret it, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her regretting a second of their time together.
    “Jack?”
    It was all he could do not to cringe. He felt more like Jack than he did Jax or Jackson Finneus Sullivan, but he doubted she’d understand the subtle difference. If she knew the truth, she’d see him as a man just like her ex. Maybe she’d have been right before the accident, but that’s not who he was now. “Kendall.” He took a deep breath and sat, taking her hips in his hands and sliding her toward his knees and away from his straining erection.
    Kendall stared at him a moment and then practically vaulted from his lap, grabbed the inside-out ball of herwadded shirts off the floor, and hugged them against her chest. “I’m sorry. I . . . I thought that you wanted . . .”
    “I did. I mean, I do. It’s just that you’re on the rebound—as cliché as that sounds, that’s where you are