Page 89 of The Treasure House

“I’ll let you know.”

He laughed. “I think you’re taking this harder than you need to.”

“Probably.” I slumped back against the couch. “I do that.”

“Tell me about that?”

“No.”

“Oh, you’re upset.” His blue-green eyes were kind.

“I have abandonment issues,” I blurted. Then I cringed, not knowing why I’d said it. “And I’m making a mess of tonight…”

“No, you’re not. No more than I am.” He took my hand and lifted it back to his chest. The flannel of his shirt was soft and his heart was still racing beneath it. “Let’s just be messy.” He rested his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes.

A frightening quivery feeling rose in my belly. This guy might be dangerous, I thought. I might actually like him. And then what would happen when things didn’t work out?

“I want to take it slow,” I told him.

“Okay.” He smiled. “Does that mean no kissing?”

“No. I like the kissing.”

I let myself surrender. It wasn’t hard. His arms wrapped around me, and he slid back into the couch, pulling me with him. Hazel woofed and scrambled out from under him, padding sleepily to her dog bed.

Jake’s hands slid down my back as he kissed me, his tongue lazily teasing. I felt his fingers brush the bare skin between my sweater and the waistband of my jeans, and then they were slipping under my sweater again.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered. “Are my hands cold?”

They weren’t but they made me shiver anyway. I fumbled his shirt buttons open, wanting to get closer.

“I thought you wanted to take it slow,” he mumbled against my lips.

“Not that kind of slow,” I breathed, as I kept unbuttoning. “Emotionally, I meant.”

“Oh.” He groaned as my hand ran over his chest. “Emotionally.”

I pulled his shirt open, revealing all that taut burnished skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you,” I admitted, running my hands down the ladder of his ribs and over the planes of his stomach. His muscles clenched under my touch.

His head fell back against the arm of the couch. “This isn’t emotional?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Hush.” I pressed my mouth to his. I didn’t want to talk anymore.

I ran my hands over his exposed chest, enjoying the way he shivered at my touch. He smelled so good: pine and salt and that unique Jake scent that made me weak at the knees. I lowered my head to press a kiss to the column of his neck, where his heartbeat leapt beneath the skin. He melted into the couch, his eyes fluttering closed. Under my fingertips his nipples hardened. I circled them as I kissed his neck, letting my tongue flick over his galloping pulse. I wanted to kiss every inch of him, and I wanted to do it slowly, and thoroughly.

I felt Jake’s hands under my sweater, and then I felt the material lifting. I helped him pull it over my head and I heard his indrawn breath as I sat, half-astride him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said thickly as he stared at me. Feather-light, his fingers ran up my spine and over my shoulders, tracing my collarbone before dropping down the curves of my breasts in their scallops of lace. I was so hot for him my nipples were pushing through the lace hungrily, my breasts swollen and aching.

“Touch me,” I whispered. I took his hands in mine and pulled them to cover my breasts. I arched into his touch, which was hot and firm. He squeezed me and we both moaned.

“What do you want?” he asked as he ran his thumbs over my jutting nipples. I felt it like a shock.

“Everything,” I admitted.

“Lucky for the both of us, that’s all I think about when it comes to you.” And he set out to prove it.

We woke up when the lights blazed on.