Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas #10) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,42

Although, in all fairness, guys’ anything had never really been a thing for me.

After a thorough inspection, he stood and pushed the cabinet back into place. He glanced over his shoulder and I felt my cheeks heat from embarrassment at getting caught ogling him. I wondered if what I was doing would be considered workplace harassment. Technically, he did work for me.

Although, he wasn’t getting paid. He was doing this as a favor. So, did he actually?

“You’re all good.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, holding my towel in place as I scooted off the counter.

He must’ve taken a step forward because when my feet hit the floor, I was looking down and I saw that they were almost touching his feet. I could feel heat radiating off of his body. As much as I wanted to look up, I couldn’t. Fear kept my eyes cast down. I was scared that if I lifted my head and made eye contact, he would lean down and kiss me. But…I was even more scared that he wouldn’t.

“Josie.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a thrill racing down my spine, but I did my best not to react to it.

As I stared down at our feet, I noticed how different they were. The delicateness of my size five feet tipped with pink, painted toes in stark contrast to the masculine ruggedness of his size fourteen feet with hair sprinkled on the tops of his toes, was oddly erotic. I was still riding the adrenaline high from my scare causing the arousal and vulnerability I was feeling to be amplified.

Or maybe I would’ve felt the intensity of those things without the aid of the chemical reaction seeing the scorpion had provided. Who wouldn’t feel exposed and turned on wearing only a towel, standing in front of a half-naked Jackson Briggs?

“Josie,” he repeated my name.

I knew that I had to face the music, which in this instance was, “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and lifted my chin. When I opened my lids, I was struck by the potency of Jackson’s stare. His aqua blue gaze held me captive, and apparently, I had Stockholm syndrome, because I had no desire to be freed from it.

“I’ve wanted to do something since the first time I saw you.”

I was 99.9 percent sure he was talking about a kiss. But since I was so rusty with my triple Fs—flirting, foreplay, and fornicating—I breathlessly asked, “What?”

“This.” His hand reached up and cupped my jaw.

He paused for a second, I assumed giving me time to reject his advance, before he lowered his mouth to mine.

His lips were soft, yet firm as he masterfully moved them against mine. I’d only kissed a handful of people in my life, and no one since Gio, so I knew I was out of practice and maybe not the best person to judge, but this was the best kiss I’d ever had.

The pad of his thumb traced my chin as he tilted my head back, giving him even more access. Automatically, my lips parted and when they did his tongue slid inside. The moment our tongues met my knees went weak. I reached out, grabbing onto him for balance and strength. My fingers dug into his shoulders and I felt the whoosh of my towel dropping to the floor.

If this would’ve happened pre-“fuck ’em” conversation, then I would’ve definitely broken the kiss and retrieved the towel and covered myself, retracting back into my turtle shell, as Mia had put it. But that one talk had given me an entirely new outlook on things. Instead of retreating, I advanced.

With a newfound confidence, I rose up on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around Jackson’s neck, and closed the distance between our bodies. As my breasts pressed against his torso, a primitive groan vibrated from his chest and he deepened the kiss, exploring the recesses of my mouth.

Between the passion in the kiss and the friction of the skin on skin contact, my core was pulsing wildly with need. My nails dug into his muscled shoulders as his arm wrapped around my waist and his hand gripped my backside. He flexed his fingers, kneading my bare flesh, causing the pulse between my legs to turn into a throb. With a desperation I’d never felt before, my hips rolled into him, searching, seeking relief from the growing ache in my sex.

The next thing I knew, my feet left the floor and my

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