Chapter 12 #3
My eyes lingered on him, the glasses he wore, and the few dark strands that had come loose from his tiny stub of a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
Combined with the slim-fitting white dress shirt and the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, the tattoos there, he looked positively sinful. The studious rogue. A wicked fantasy.
“You’re staring,” Jack accused, his lips twitching.
I resisted the urge to cover my face. “It’s the glasses. They . . . do things to me.”
“The glasses?” he asked incredulously.
I jolted as the hand beneath my skirt moved behind my knee. “Yes!”
“I didn’t realize you were into reading glasses, Clyde. These eyes are from the 1900s, you know. I need them to see.”
“You’re hot, okay?” I managed through my laughter.
He snorted.
“And, now,” I added, “I know what you look like naked.” I whispered the final word.
Jack rolled his eyes, but he was smiling widely. “Is that going to be too distracting for you?” He gasped dramatically. “Were you picturing me naked while we were playing softball yesterday?”
I laughed, and he grabbed my hand before I could cover my mouth.
“You’re out of control,” he teased. “I’m more than just slutty little glasses and a man-bun.”
My giggles had me bending forward, collapsing into Jack’s arms. “You’re ridiculous,” I managed through my laughter, suddenly amazed that he could draw out this happiness when I’d been so lost and adrift moments ago, trapped in a minefield of my own making.
Eyes alight, Jack encouraged me forward, onto his lap. I came willingly, straddling his thighs and draping my arms across his firm shoulders.
“That’s alright,” he said, the hushed words ghosting across my lips. “You can objectify me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I breathed as desire clenched low in my belly at our proximity and his teasing.
“Sure. It’s only fair. I’m imagining you naked right now.” He paired the admission with a firm squeeze to my backside.
He grinned as he leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss flared into existence, hot and incendiary in an instant.
I sucked on Jack’s tongue, groaning as his busy fingers worked their way up my skirt. Rough palms smoothed the length of my thighs before he cupped my center over my underwear.
Despite being locked in our own little bubble, I was conscious of being in a public place. I knew I couldn’t be too loud, and part of me worried about Jack.
After a firm bite to my bottom lip, he retreated. “What’s wrong? You got all tense. Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I panted, breath embarrassingly short after what we’d done. “I just don’t want you to get fired.”
Jack’s expression fought valiantly between confusion and amusement. “You—you don’t want me to get fired?”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble. You’re supposed to be working.”
He sighed, but his hazel eyes sparkled. Then, as he spoke, his thumb found my clit and started circling. “I can’t get fired. I’m in charge tonight, okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I nodded quickly, distracted by his thumb but also trying to focus on his words. He couldn’t get fired. That was good. I guessed he was managing Magnolia tonight or something. “Okay.”
He grinned. “Now, can I get back to getting you off? You are really ruining the naughty thing we have going on here.”
“Sure,” I replied, fighting a moan. “Sorry. I just couldn’t get into the moment if I thought you were going to get in trouble.”
“I know. You’re such a good girl.”
My lips parted at his words, a flush blooming beneath my skin.
“We’ll explore that later.” And then he was kissing me deeply, at the same time he swept my underwear aside and plunged two fingers deep inside me.
His mouth muffled the sounds fighting to get free as my hips pumped in time with his thrusts. And still, his thumb worked against that tiny bundle of nerves, driving me mad.
“Yes,” I gasped, breaking our kiss. I bowed my head and pressed my forehead to his shoulder as I moved on top of him, desperate and seeking.
The scruff on his jaw was rough against the sensitive skin of my neck and collarbone, but I loved the feel of it, making all my nerve endings come alive. So, so alive.
“That’s it,” Jack murmured, voice low and raw. “Take what you need. That’s my good girl.”
My inner muscles clamped down on his fingers while his thumb finally gave me the pressure I needed. I was coming, my mouth firm against his fancy white shirt to stifle the low moan I couldn’t stop.
After a moment, I leaned back and met his gaze. Eagerness was quickly replacing the loose, satisfied feeling in my limbs. I wanted to return the favor. So I reached for his belt, but Jack shook his head.
“You should get back before your friends come looking for you.”
“Oh, right.” I nodded awkwardly, disappointed that our time was up.
I wiggled back to try to stand, but Jack stopped me with a possessive hand on my thigh. “You want to stay over tonight? You could come with me to the soccer game in the morning.”
I pretended to consider. “Will there be Pop-Tarts?”
He paused to consider. “That could be arranged.”
I didn’t know how to say how thankful I was for the way he’d taken control tonight and saved me in my moment of weakness.
How he’d provided respite in the midst of my turmoil.
The way he always seemed to know just what I needed, and if he didn’t, he just came right out and asked.
Something that seemed so simple, but was rare all the same.
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t find the words. Jack didn’t want my gratitude anyway.
So I cupped his cheeks and kissed him instead. Something soft. A sweet press that lingered, saying what I couldn’t.
Minutes later, I’d straightened my skirt and cleaned up, leaving Jack in the powder room so we could stagger our return to the bar area.
My friends were still at the table, talking and laughing. It was Becca who noticed my approach first. She smiled brightly as I slid into the booth.
“Bonnie, you’re glowing.” Then her eyes slid over my shoulder before widening.
I turned my head and watched Jack slip behind the bar, his gaze meeting mine briefly.
When I faced forward again, Becca had a gleeful expression on her face, and my stomach dropped. I opened my mouth, unsure if I should say anything at all or if that would just draw more attention to myself.
Panic must have been plain on my face because Becca’s delight dimmed.
Before I could figure out how to salvage this, Mac called out, “Yeah, Bonnie always gets red-faced on wine. I’m the same way. I think it’s a curse from our mother.”
“Probably,” I offered weakly.
“Oh, I get that way with tequila,” Becca said helpfully, still smiling gently my way.
And knowing the friendly woman, it was more in support than anything else.
I had a feeling that if anyone could keep my secret, it would be her.
“But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying a margarita when the mood strikes. ” Then she winked.
I fought my laughter.
“Amen,” Larry said.
“We should get margaritas!” Candace added.
“Great idea,” Mac said, putting her hand up for a high five.
And I thought it was a very good thing that all of their significant others would be here soon to drive their drunk behinds home.
My gaze slid toward Jack at the bar.
After all, I had plans of my own.