JAX (The Beckett Boys #2) - Olivia Chase Page 0,12
I can see the arousal in his eyes, how dark they are, how intently he’s staring at me. Like he wants to consume me bit by bit. And God it’s stupid, but I want it too, because I’ve never had a reaction to another human being like this before in my life. My nipples are hard and aching, my hands are shaking, and I’m insanely turned on.
My body is pulsing with need.
“I’m saving you,” Jax retorts in a low tone. “And if I’m not mistaken, you seemed to love it.”
Irritation wars with arousal. I thump one fist against his chest. “God, you’re so arrogant. I didn’t need saving.”
“That guy is a serious asshole,” he lobs back, capturing my hand in his big fist and then flatting my palm along his chest. His fingers stroke mine and his other hand slides down to caress my hip in a possessive grip. He begins swaying to the music, bringing me right along with him. “Trust me on this. And you’re welcome, by the way.” His cocky grin is over the top, like he’s actually proud of himself.
I can’t help it. I laugh. A shocked, stunned sound that erupts from my lips. This man is just too much. I don’t even know how to handle it. He’s everything that’s wrong for me, but every ounce of my entire being wants him to kiss me again.
The cockiness fades from his eyes and he laughs, too.
“You’re crazy,” I declare with a shake of my head. “Absolutely crazy. I can’t do this with you, though.”
“Do what, kiss me? Dance at a wedding?” His voice drops, and his fingers stroke the top curve of my ass, the thin string of my panties, through my fabric. “Get sexually aroused around a group of people?”
My whole body burns and pulses in response to his wicked words. I need to fight this. He’s dangerous. Heaven help me though, I want to taste him again right now. “Why are you doing this to me?” I manage to ask.
“Because I fucking want you so badly I can barely breathe,” he says so honestly that it locks the air in my lungs. This isn’t Jax the player. This is him, the real him, beneath the veneer—I don’t know how I know, but I do. I feel it in my bones. “And I got jealous seeing you dance with that polished turd. You deserve better than him.”
“And I suppose you’re the better option?”
“No, you deserve better than me, too.” And there’s the charmer again, dancing in his eyes, and my nipples tighten and pussy throbs.
I’m growing so wet. The swirls he’s making on my ass are getting lower and lower. He releases my hand on his chest and slides it up my side until the thumb brushes the underside of my aching breast. I shudder in response.
“You’re too good for me, but fuck if I don’t want to taste you anyway,” he continues. “I want to drop down right here and shove your dress up and lick that wet pussy. In front of everyone.”
His words are so naughty, so unreal. They make me shiver all over, and I feel myself get impossibly wet, my panties soaked through the crotch. It’s clear this man has done sexual things I’ve never even dreamed of. Don’t go down this road, my brain tries to scream, sounding suspiciously like my sister.
His hand moves down, and when his fingers dance along my bare thigh, playing with the hem of my skirt, I feel my body tighten with need. We’re in the middle of the dance floor, and this man is touching me like he possesses me, and I don’t know why but I’m dying for him to slip his hand beneath my panties and make me come right now. Despite people being around.
Maybe even because of it.
I’ve never had these urges before. It must be the alcohol talking, I sooth myself. The alcohol and the environment, which combined can make people do crazy things. It’s a one-time event.
Maybe I can let myself give in a little bit to whatever he’s offering, I rationalize. Have a taste of the wild side—nothing too far, of course. I’m not going to have sex with him, after all. I’ll still have my virginity intact, but I’ll be a fraction more knowledgeable about how things work in bed.
I ignore Della’s voice in my mind and shift up on my tiptoes, letting my mouth brush his. Nothing more than a soft sweeping of lips.