Holding my arms behind my back, I grinned at him, “Oh, nothing. Just teasing Kate. She was being awful so I told her she was going to be the ugliest bridesmaid ever. Then I hung up on her.”
Jack grinned as I giggled. He dropped his gear and walked back toward me, draping his hands around my waist, he pulled me close, “Abby, that was evil,” he said totally deadpan, then added, “and hysterical. Kate’s still crazy, right? She’s still the anti-dress, I-hate-girlie-crap girl that she used to be, isn’t she?”
I burst out laughing, nodding, “Yup!” My phone buzzed. Kate’s number lit up the screen.
Watching me, he asked, “Are you going to answer that?”
I shook my head slowly, my fingers trailing along his collar, feeling the skin underneath. He blinked slowly, as if trying to focus, “Then let’s do something else. I can find out what’s missing in the morning.” With that he swept his hand under me, and cradled me in his arms. I could feel every curve of his strong chest pressing against me. Jack moved out of the studio, through a door that connected to the outside. He held me, kissing me softly, as he rounded the studio to a small cottage—his home.
He fumbled with the knob, but got it open and carried me inside. “Stay with me tonight? No work, no studio. Just me and you, in my bed?” His voice was deep, his words traveling through me and making me feel weak.
I nodded. The cottage was like a studio apartment. It had a kitchenette and a big white bed. Everything was white. White on white on white. Jack lowered me onto the bed, kissed my head, and stood. Looking down at me, he pulled his shirt over his head, saying, “This was supposed to be the studio. I flipped things because I wanted the gallery and the studio together. It’s kind of small for the two of us, but we can do anything you like to it. This is your home now, Abby. This is our bed. And you’re going to be my wife.” As he spoke, he removed his clothing all the while keeping his hot gaze on mine. When his eyes slide over my prone form, he smiled like he couldn’t help it.
“It’s perfect, Jack.” And it was. The cottage felt like the perfect beach house. I loved that I could see the ocean and hear the waves. I loved the light linens and the softness of the room. As Jack undressed, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
“There’s one thing I’d like to add,” he purred. My heart kicked up the pace, beating faster.
“What’s that?” my voice hitched. Jack was completely naked and very turned on. I couldn’t take my eyes off the hard temptation on his lower body. I sucked my lower lip without realizing it.
Jack leaned down, kissing me deeply before he pulled away and said, “There’s a painting that I want to hang up in here. And maybe a few of those photographs of you, my goddess.”
Glancing up at him, his words broke through my lusty haze. “The painting is done? The one of me from before...”
He nodded, “From before you tempted me and ensnared me in your wanton ways?” A sexy smile lined his full lips. “Yup, that one. The canvas is rolled up in a tube under the bed. It’s yours, Abby. And it’s stunning.”
Smiling fully, I reached for him and embraced Jack, feeling every inch of his smooth skin against mine. The little dress I was wearing suddenly seemed very restricting. I moved to take it off, but Jack stopped me. “Let me be the one to do that,” he leaned in close, kissing my neck, his hands pulling me tightly against him.
I groaned, feeling heat building inside of me, my knees growing weaker by the moment. “What do you like, Jack? Tell me...”
His lips pulled away from my neck. He took me by my hands, throwing a few pillows on the floor, and said, “Kneel.” I did as he asked, my breathing growing more ragged by the moment. His smooth, firm length was in front of my mouth and I wanted it. I wanted to taste him and suck on him. My lips parted, my tongue licking my teeth as I openly stared. “Kiss me, Abby. Any way you want. Anything that feels good, do it.” I glanced up at him, wide-eyed. He reached for my hair, stroking it gently as my face neared his most private parts.
Leaning my head against his stomach, I closed my eyes and breathed. The scent was divine. It filled my head, making me want him in my mouth even more. Brushing him over my lips, I kissed him gently. Holding onto his length, I rubbed him across my face, my eyes, my cheeks, before taking him in my mouth. Jack gasped as my lips closed around him. The heat that was building in my belly was so intense, so hot, that as I wrapped my tongue around Jack, I could feel the dampness between my legs. Jack’s hands were in my hair, holding me, tugging gently as he moaned with each kiss. My lips slid over him, around him, up and down until Jack gasped, pushing me away, saying, “Oh God. Abby, I won’t last long if you do that.”
With his hands on my shoulders, I fixated on his beautiful erection before my eyes. “I want to taste, Jack.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips to him again, then took him in my mouth. His fingers threaded through my hair as we fell into a rhythm, rocking and moaning. Every part of my body felt alive and hot. I wanted his hands on me, but I wanted to taste him more. Gently sucking and twisting my tongue around him, I moved my lips over him, loving him, tasting him. The grip on my hair tightened as Jack filled my mouth. The salty-sweet flavor slid over my tongue and down my throat. I devoured every last drop, licking my lips when there was no more.
Jack watched me, his dark eyes wide and sated until I licked my lips like I wanted more. With that, he bent down and lifted me, picking me up in his arms. “Abby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he breathed heavily in my ear. His perfect body was pressed against me, but I wanted him closer.
“I want to feel you against me.” His eyes met mine, shining like twin lakes. His fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped, as he pushed away fabric, revealing pale skin beneath. Every touch of his hands made me want more. I moaned, my head hanging back.
Jack lifted me onto the bed, “Tell me what you want, Abby.” But I didn’t know. I wanted everything, everywhere. I writhed as he watched me; his breath slipping over my hot bare skin. A single thought broke through the haze. More than anything, I wanted to feel him between my legs.
“Ride me, Jack. I want to feel you inside of me.” Jack lowered his body next to mine on the bed, whispering in my ear, kissing my neck as his hand was splayed across my stomach, drifting slowly south.
“Anything you want,” he breathed. His fingers lowered, touching between my legs, stroking me gently. My bottom rose off the bed, wanting to feel his touch as it disappeared, “You’re so wet.” His hand moved over me again, stroking, touching, pinching and rubbing. My head was spinning. Jack made me so lustful that I couldn’t think.
Again his hands moved over me, in me, around me. I reeled, spreading my legs further, calling his name, “Jack.” His fingers thrust inside me, pushing hard. Then he slid them up, touching my stomach, passing over my breasts, forming a line that went to my mouth. When he reached my lips, Jack ran his finger over my lips and then lowered his head, tasting me as he kissed me. His tongue swept over my lips, licking it all away. As I kissed him, I could taste it and something about him doing that made me hotter. My legs ached to hold him against me, but Jack moved slowly, teasing and tasting. His lips touched every inch of my body, lingering on my breasts, gently pinching my nipples, making me cry out. By the time he climbed on top of me, I wanted nothing but to feel him sliding into me, hard—over and over again.
When he said, “Be still, Abby. Let me feel you,” I nearly died. Body rigid, I laid on the bed, fingers clawing the sheets, trying to control myself when I had no control left. Eyes shut tight, I felt Jack, hard and long, pushing into me. He’d do it slowly once, then withdraw and do it again. My chest thrust up toward him as I tried to remain still, aching, wanting to be touched. Jack’s hands kneaded me gently, tugging my nipples when he pushed into me. His voice cut through the haze, “Look at me, Abby. I want to see your eyes.”
Peeling my eyes open, I looked up at him. His hands were on my breasts, his hard body buried deep inside of me. I arched my back, trying not to move, watching him straddling me, looking down at me like I was everything he ever wanted. “I want you, Jack. Please, please...” I whispered, gazing into his eyes. The plea seemed to shatter him. My loving, teasing, Jack, suddenly withdrew and slammed into me hard. Gasping, I moaned, holding tight to his hips with my legs. He repeated the motion several times, each time faster and harder than the last. When he paused, I gasped, “More. Please, don’t stop.” Things blurred together, our intertwined bodies moving as one. Jack’s glistening skin and dark eyes watched me. I could feel his gaze on my face as I cried out every time he pushed into me. Deeper and harder he pushed, taking me higher and higher.
“Come for me, Abby,” Jack said, not stopping, thrusting into me hard and fast. His words, his voice, Tingling and wet, I could feel the gentle pulsating increase until I shattered into a million happy pieces. Jack felt it, moving harder, faster. He arched his back, pushing into me slowly, one last time, ready to pull out, but I asked him to stop.
Hands on the small of his back, I said, “Stay,” and he did. Every small throb clung around his spent body, feeling him and making me happier and happier. Looking up at him, he watched me as the perfect pulses dulled.
Sliding next to me, he pulled my sweat soaked body on his chest, kissing my head. “I love you, Abby.” And I fell asleep in perfect bliss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The sun shone through the windows, waking me. Jack was awake, looking down at me, his hands playing with a stray curl. “Good morning, lover,” he smiled. I smiled, snuggling closer to him when I heard something. Turning, I glanced at the door.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I did.” He slid out of bed, and pulled on his jeans. I watched the denim slide over his perfect ass, admiring the view as Jack walked to the window, peeking between the shutters. “Shit,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked back at me, worry in his eyes.
