Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,52
a beat, but I ignore it and reach for the bowl of popcorn. When my fingers come back greasy, I purse my lips before popping the kernel into my mouth.
“It’s buttered,” I point out.
“It’s popcorn,” he returns just as quickly. “Of course, it’s buttered.”
“Not all popcorn needs to be buttered.”
“It does if you want it to be edible.” He grabs a handful then shoves it into his mouth but keeps his eyes glued to the television. “What do you feel like watching? Sitcom? Rom-com? Action? Thriller? Horror? Basketball? Throw me a bone, will ya?”
Gah! He’s so damn irritating!
“Jack,” I seethe. “Will you just look at me?”
He glances over at me, then tosses another handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“What?” he asks through a mouthful of snacks.
“You’re not gonna…say anything?”
His gaze bounces around my face but doesn’t linger on my cheek before he turns his attention back to the giant-ass screen on the wall. “I like your hair up like that.”
I touch the lazy, messy bun I’d piled on top of my head, shocked that that’s what he noticed.
“Oh.” Reminding myself to breathe, I drop my hands back to my lap and twist the fabric of my worn, red T-shirt like a wet dishrag. “Thanks?”
“You’re welcome. How ‘bout a sitcom? I think we could both use a good laugh tonight.”
Just like that, my nerves melt away, leaving a regular girl next to a regular guy who is about to waste an entire night in front of the TV. I settle into the couch and grab another greasy, overly-buttered handful of deliciousness while ignoring the foreign elation that pulses through my veins. “That sounds…that sounds perfect, Jacky Boy.”
And it really does.
A warm, hard chest is pressed against my cheek as the world sways around me. Confused, I lift my heavy eyelids and find myself in Jack’s arms.
“What are you doing?” I croak, my voice rusty from sleep. He must’ve turned off the tv after I fell asleep on the couch. And now he’s taking me to my room.
Pushing my door open with his shoulder, he carries me toward the bed before gently setting me down on the mattress.
“I was putting you to bed.” His deep voice hits me in all the right places as the blanket is pulled up to my chin. Like he’s tucking me in for the night. The gesture makes me smile but leaves me more confused than ever.
“So we’re not going to fuck?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Is that your guilty pleasure, Bianca? Good sex?”
“Didn’t used to be, but you might be changing my mind on that.”
With another breath of laughter, he teases, “Is that all I am to you? Good dick?”
“I’m not sure what you are to me anymore,” I admit, surprising us both with my honesty.
His calloused fingertips scrape against my cheek as he tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear that’d fallen from my messy bun earlier.
“Ditto,” he murmurs.
With a soft, contented sigh, I grab his wrist to keep him from pulling away. “Thanks for tonight, Jack.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he returns. “I needed a break from…everything.”
“Is that all I am to you?” I counter, using the same tone he’d perfected from a minute ago. “A distraction?”
Dragging his fingers along my jawbone, he studies me carefully, and I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.
“I’m starting to think the rest of the world is the distraction.” He bends closer, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he tilts my head to meet his lips. The kiss is…everything. It isn’t fueled by lust or built-up frustration. He isn’t trying to prove anything with his touch. And he isn’t taking like every other man who’s touched me in my life.
“Tell me I’m more than good dick, Bianca,” he whispers against the column of my throat before peppering open-mouthed kisses along my jaw.
I lift my chin and close my eyes, savoring his touch like a glass of red wine. Like it’s an indulgence. One I rarely allow myself to taste. I know how much I could regret it in the morning, but I’m too weak to torture myself any longer by resisting it.
“Tell me,” he pleads. His hands brush against my bare arms and leave goose bumps in their wake. Their promise to deliver a heady pleasure I’ve only experienced with him threatens to turn me into a puddle if I weren’t already lying down. But it’s more than physical with him. More than good dick. And that’s terrifying as hell for