this moment for two straight days.
Raising her hands, she cupped his jaw and pulled him closer, her breath jagged with anticipation and need. “Got it.”
His lips weren’t gentle and tentative this time. They crashed down on hers, urgent, impatient, and greedy, his fingers plunging into her hair and tilting her head to the side so that he could seal his mouth over hers. She moaned, her fingers clutching at his face as his tongue licked the seam of their lips and slipped into her mouth. She arched forward, meeting the touch of his tongue, tasting, twisting, swallowing the low groan that rose from his throat and was offered to her in surrender. Nibbling her lips, he tilted his head the other way, then kissed her again. Her breasts strained, aching for the firm pressure of his chest pressed flush against her throbbing nipples.
But the bolster. The goddamned bolster wasn’t going to let it happen.
She whimpered with frustration, pulling away and looking up at him—at his midnight-black eyes and slick lips. His chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathing, and she couldn’t look away, panting in time with him as he stared back at her.
“Glad we got that straightened out,” he said, his eyes fierce, his body taut. He slowly pulled his hands from her hair and cupped her cheeks, his gaze drinking her in for a thirst he couldn’t seem to quench.
She smiled at him—a tender, relieved grin accompanied by a wistful whimper. “Should we—maybe we should stay in tonight? We could watch a movie or…”
…make out for hours.
He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers again. “I promised you greasy fries and cold beer. Besides, don’t you want to know what I think about your script?”
Her eyes flared open, all her blissed-out dreaminess taking flight. The project! Wow, he’d distracted her so much, she’d almost forgotten!
“Yes! I mean, yes, I’m dying to know what you thought!”
Sliding his hands from her face, he punched the address of Club7 into her GPS, then leaned back into the supple leather and smiled at her. “Then let’s get out of here.” Lowering his voice as she pulled onto Blueberry Lane, he added meaningfully, “We’ll stay in another night, Duchess. I promise.”
A delicious shiver sailed down Jax’s spine as she put the car into reverse to head into the city.
Chapter 10
It was a forty-five-minute drive from Haverford to Northeast Philadelphia where Club7 was located, which would give Gard more than enough time to talk to her about her script. But first, he’d decided to tell her about what had happened on that fateful day two years ago. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly, forcing himself to stay calm as he prepared to recount the details of the worst day of his life.
“Jax,” he started, as she merged onto the highway, “I gotta tell you a little more about my eyes. Could come up tonight if we run into someone I know. I’d rather you…you know, hear it from me.”
She glanced over at him in surprise, but her voice was gentle. “Okay.”
He looked away from her, concentrating on the broken white lines on either side of the highway lane. “Two years ago, my partner and I were called to the scene of a domestic abuse situation. Mother and two children livin’ with her brother, who was high on meth and wieldin’ a loaded weapon.” He looked over at her and noted the set of her face—deep in concentration, no judgment, no repulsion. He continued. “My partner, Gil, he knocked on the door. We had our firearms cocked and ready. But when Miguel Santiago opened the door holdin’ a rifle, he was—he was hopped up and paranoid, and he discharged his shotgun immediately. Gil’s face was mostly blown off by the blast. Mine took a good bit of birdshot to the upper half.”
She gasped, wincing as her right hand released the steering wheel and reached blindly for him. He caught her fingers between his, lacing them together, holding on tight.
“Go on,” she said in a small, breathy voice.
“Paramedics tried to save Gil, but he died an hour later after endurin’ so much pain, it makes me…makes me…” He blinked against the sudden burn in his eyes, but her fingers squeezed his, giving him the strength to finish. He shook his head and sighed. “Ahhh. Anyway, I—I was relatively lucky by comparison. The skin of my face was peppered with shot, but somehow, by some miracle, I only got one pellet