Page 61 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

I could do it.

I could do it right now.

“I wanted to give you something a little more personal than a LEGO.”

I slid my hand up his chest to loop around his neck. He let me pull him down until his warm breath ghosted across my lips.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered as he leaned in.

The kiss was light at first, tentative, unlike the last time we had found ourselves in this position. Just a brush, the barest graze of his lips on mine.

Then I slipped my fingers up into his hair and pulled him down to me, so I could plant my lips firmly against his. This time, he did not hesitate to reciprocate.

We were doing this again.

Our empty champagne cups dropped to the mat, unwanted and forgotten. Now free, his hands found my hips and slowly began to roam up the curves of my body. Mapping. Exploring.

He pulled away for a moment, long enough to speak a few words. “This thank you seems like more than I deserve.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” I replied, lips pressing against his jaw. He groaned as my teeth skimmed down his neck, and a blast of molten heat dropped straight into my core at the sound.

He wrapped my hair around his fist and gently pulled so my face tilted back up to his. He kissed me deeply, leaning into me as I arched back.

My brain switched off. Just completely powered down, and my hormones took the wheel. My hands, driven by pure oxytocin, trailed down his body. When they reached the bottom of the sweater, one dipped underneath, sliding back up across the flat of his stomach.

He gasped, and his head jerked back.

“Is this okay?” I asked, suddenly afraid I had overstepped.

“Princess, anything you do is okay.”

His eyes caught the dim light and shone like fire. He meant what he said. He was okay with this. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like I wanted him. I decided to test my theory.

I hooked my thumbs under the hem of his sweater and slowly lifted, revealing inch after stunning inch of skin until his entire chest was exposed. I found his eyes again as I leaned in, asking once again for silent permission to taste.

He answered by squeezing my hips.

I could feel the rumble through his chest as I pressed my mouth to his sternum, peppering him with open-mouth kisses. His pleasure was fuel to my fire. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to get a little relief from the ache.

I worked my way lower, kissing and biting down his abs, past his navel, and to the top of his jeans. I popped open the button and was just about to pull down his zipper, when he spoke.

“Stop,” he rasped, and I froze.

Fuck. I had fucked up. He didn’t want this. I misunderstood. I broke the rules. He wanted to be professional. I had pushed too far. I should have just bought another LEGO. I was so aroused it hurt. I might start crying—

“I should be pleasuring you,” he said.

I shook my head, unsure if I had heard him right. My smile returned as I replayed the words in my head.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Unequivocally,” he said.

My smile was blinding. Only Jack would say something like that at a time like this.

“Okay,” I replied, without a hint of hesitation.

Then, I stood and peeled my shirt over my head before dropping it at his feet. I stood before him in the dim light wearing only jeans and a sheer, lacey bra the color of ripe cherries. Fuck being professional. It was a stupid rule.