Gee, maybe it was because Jack was the embodiment of every midnight fantasy that had ever kept her awake. Maybe it was because he lowered his hand to the part in her towel and swirled his palm across her stomach, over the curve of her hip, then moved in to press an impressive erection against her. Certainly, he and all that testosterone…diverted her mind from the whacked-out stalker issues.
Her mother had always said, You make your choices in life and live with them. Could she live with herself if she walked away from the forbidden allure of Jack Cole without one taste?
He curved his hand over the rise of her ass and began to stroke his way down—fingertips lightly toying with the crease between her cheeks. A new rush of tingles filled her. Clever move, she acknowledged. If she arched into his touch, he had a handful of ass. If she arched away from it, she pushed herself right against his erection. How could he lose?
How could you? a little voice inside her head dared her.
In the next moment, his fingers stroked the cleft between her cheeks again, this time a little harder, deeper. A dark thrill zoomed up her spine. Without thought, she gasped and arched right into his hand.
“Good girl,” he murmured into her ear, sending the shivers back down her spine.
His thumb toyed with her nipple, now so hard she could feel every brush of skin, every callous. She moaned again.
“Cher, drop the towel. Montre-moi ton joli corps.” His breath came hard and fast, his voice strained but still in control. “Show me your pretty body.”
“You’ve already seen it, you peeping Tom.”
“Show me,” he growled.
Oh, God. The command in his voice turned the ache between her legs into a throb. She wanted to obey…so bad. Sizzle coursed through her. Blood rushed everywhere, swelling her clit. Already wet from orgasm, she felt moisture pooling in her most intimate recesses, threatening to overflow. Jack’s spicy, earthy scent was scattering rational thought. The parts of her body aching for his touch were in control.
What’s the worst that could happen if you gave in? a voice inside her asked.
More disappointment and frustration. More rejection and ridicule.
Then again, it took her at least a dozen pairs of shoes to find the right fit. Were lovers the same way? Maybe three hadn’t been enough.
Confusion spun in her head.
“Jack,” she managed to murmur in between his wicked touches. “I talk to people about sex for a living. I don’t need to have it to do the show.”
“Forget the show. You need what I can give you. Stop denying yourself.”
“I’m not denying myself anything.” Stupid! Morgan bit her lip, sure that her flushed cheeks and hard ni**les made her words an obvious lie.
He grabbed her jaw in one hand. “You lie to me again, and I’m going to spank you so hard you won’t sit for a week. Tell me why you’re resisting what you want.”
“Don’t touch me.” She tried to jerk from his grasp.
Jack held firm. “Cher, I’m going to do more than touch you. Way more. And the longer you hold out on answering me, the more I’m going to make you beg.”
Oh, God. His words alone made Morgan hot as she weighed them and the relentless demand in his eyes against her fears. He could do it; he could make her beg. And the thought raced a shiver down her spine. “Fine. If you have to know, I’m not some femme fatale. I don’t respond much to sex.”
Cajun charm softened pushy arrogance with a mere curl of his sin-inspiring lips. He placed hot kisses on her neck, nibbled at the curve to her shoulder. “You responded just fine to everything I threw your way in Lafayette.”
Surprise. That’s all it had been. She’d been too shocked to really react. To want, then bow to the pressure of self-doubt. Then clam up until, tense and frustrated, her body gave up. Besides, she might be curious about his…lifestyle, but participating committed her far more than simply wondering. And she had a bad feeling that one taste of Jack Cole would be as addicting as heroin to a junkie.
“We don’t really know each other.”
Jack’s fingertips cascaded over her shoulder, leaving nothing but anticipation and a fresh crop of goose bumps in their wake. “I know enough to know how to make you scream. But that isn’t what’s stopping you.”
He kissed her neck, her jawline, inched up toward her mouth. She melted under his mouth. God, that felt good. And his smell… Did it contain some ingredient that was like Kryptonite for her restraint?
“We don’t like each other much,” she pointed out in a desperate gasp, evading his kiss—a kiss she wanted so bad, her gut clenched with desire.
Again, he smiled, a flash of white teeth visible in the room bathed with predawn light. “I’m liking you just fine right now, cher. I liked you the first time we talked online. I like that you’re smart and gutsy and sexy as hell.”
He whispered the words against her mouth, and Morgan felt her resolve fraying around the edges. Back in Lafayette, Jack had touched her br**sts, stroked her clit, fondled deep inside her, yes. But his kiss lingered, haunted her. Like the smoothest wine, all wrapped in sin and velvet, with a kick of lust that promised pleasure. His kiss gave her a preview of his strength and selfcontrol. Almost against her will, she leaned toward him.