Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Sydney Somers Page 0,68

Freddie Hall during the opening game of the season four years ago.”

Jackson frowned. “What did you do, keep a scrapbook?”

She shrugged, making a last-minute decision about her cards. “Stone’s was full every game night you played, so Matt often needed the extra hand.”

“How many games did you miss?”

“Only a couple.” She smiled innocently.

He searched her face, finally realizing that the more riled up he got, the more he tipped his cards just enough she could see them. “You cheater.”

“Sorry, not feeling myself. Must be the flowerpot I took to the head.”

He tossed the cards aside. “And you even managed to say that with a straight face. You’re clearly feeling better.”

She started to laugh, but the sound quickly died away as he reached out to touch her cheek.

“How’s your head?”

“Pain meds are a beautiful thing.” Mostly. She had a mild headache, but it was manageable.

“Still dizzy?”

“No.” Not unless she counted the spinning in her head when he was only inches away.

“Good.” Jackson slid two fingers beneath her chin, guiding her forward to meet his mouth.

Chapter Ten

Hayley whimpered, the sound hungry and needy, and stifled by a kiss soft enough to melt her into the chair.

It was like they were back in high school and he’d just taken her by complete surprise all over again.

Getting caught with the mascot costume would have spelled disaster, but being outed by Jackson would have made it that much worse. Not giving herself away when he’d crushed his mouth down on hers had been difficult. But not nearly as difficult as trying to act like the whole thing was no big deal. She’d failed horribly at that, clinging to him, taking as much from the moment of mistaken identity as she could for as long as it lasted.

She was about to repeat history, teetering on the edge of falling hopelessly into a kiss that was shaking her to the core. And she couldn’t make herself care.

His palm slid along her jaw, moving slower than the teasing drag of his teeth across her bottom lip. His other hand roamed up her thigh, kneading and tugging her closer until he finally gave up on that and hauled her into his lap.

She planted her hands on his chest, marveling at the strength beneath her palms. And the hardness pressing into her hip. Her eyes slid shut, and she arched against him, aching to rub herself along his shaft.

Jackson pushed her hair back from her face. “I don’t want to stop this time, so if this isn’t what you want…”

How did he look so sexy and vulnerable at the same time? Was that part of his charm too? Or was her grandfather right about it being far easier to hurt him than she realized?

“I don’t want to stop,” she whispered. Stopping would mean sacrificing the taste of him on her tongue, the sweep of his fingers up her back. And stopping sure as hell wouldn’t satisfy the hunger licking across every nerve ending in her body.

He waited, his gaze holding hers.

“Do you want me to sign a contract agreeing to it?”

He laughed. “No.”

She brushed her lips across his, letting her tongue slide into his mouth. “Then you need to get back to the part where you were kissing me.”

“Whatever you say, Detective.” He caught the back of her head, holding her to him as he ravaged her mouth.

Her breath stalled in her throat. Jackson pulled at her shirt, gathering the material in his hands and dragging it up her body. His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, and her nipples hardened to aching points.

He tugged the shirt off, drinking her in. She shivered beneath the wicked scrutiny that seemed to log every inch of her. The intensity of it threatened to turn her into a molten pool at his feet. All with just a look.

“You have that expression again, like you’re thinking too hard.”

“I didn’t expect this…” The words surprised her as much as the desire flooding her, filling every cell in her body.

“Didn’t expect what?”

“That it would be like this,” she admitted, feeling more than a little drugged on the buzz she felt when she was this close to him. She waited for some slick or sarcastic response, something to keep the mood light and playful.

“Neither did I.”

She felt his hands at her back, traveling up her spine. When he reached the ends of her hair, he wrapped them around his fingers, using the sexy grip to lean her back. One strong hand spanned her hip, keeping her

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