13. Jack
Jack
“Careful, Sinclair, when you hold something that close to your mouth, it’s impossible for me to focus on anything else.”
“You’re such a flirt.” Izzy sways into me, laughing, before she takes another bite out of the caramel apple I bought her at the party.
I lean down, wrap my hand around hers, and draw it to my mouth.
She gasps. “Don’t you dare!”
“Don’t want to share?”
“No.”
She tries to tug it away, but I hook my arm around her back, and we stumble, bumping into a car parked on the street.
“This would be easier if you gave me a taste.”
She raises an eyebrow, then shoves the apple into my mouth, knocking against my front teeth.
“Maybe you’ll be quiet for a minute.”
“Hey,” I mumble around my bite.
It’s late, almost midnight, so the trick-or-treaters have gone to bed and the sleepy streets of Merritt Point are quiet.
Caramel hits my tongue, then the strong, bright tang of the green apple.
“Want more?” I hold it out to her.
The streetlights wash over Izzy and that incredible costume. Fuck me. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind all night. What was it about sirens? They lured sailors to their death, right?
I’m just a dead man walking.
She grins, blissfully unaware how she’s spun me up just from swaying in the crisp night air.
“Izzy?”
It’s meant to be a question, but it’s more of a dare.
She twirls back and tugs the caramel apple from my hand, locking her eyes with mine as she takes a bite.
Suddenly, I’m racking my brain for a reason not to kiss her.
Rules, right?
“You know, you’re not as charming as you think you are, Jack.”
“No, I’m exactly as charming as I think I am. It’s working on you, isn’t it?”
She shrugs, taking another bite of her apple. Her house is just a street over now, and I’m not ready to say good night.
“Come on, you thought my costume was funny. You laughed.”
“I was being polite.”
“Bullshit.” I nudge my elbow against her as we turn onto her street. “You thought it was hilarious.”
Izzy rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting a smile. “Fine. It wasn’t bad.”
“I’ll take it.” I pull my fingers beneath the collar of my dumb costume, ready to get it off. “And for the record, you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”
She falls back a step, forcing me to turn around to face her.
“Who said I was pretending? I think you’re annoying, cocky—”
I stand toe to toe with her, peering down. “So earlier, when I put my hand on your hip and you froze, that was nothing?”
“I didn’t—” She stops herself, jaw tight. “We were dancing. You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” There’s a shake to my voice that I hate. “Because you’ve been looking at me all night like you’re trying to decide something.”
“Oh?” That tiny question comes out breathless.
Like whether you’re going to let me kiss you.
But I don’t say it. Instead, I lift my hand and gently tuck a curl behind her ear. I can’t stop staring at her lips. “Nothing. Forget it.”
She’s quiet for a minute, and when she speaks again, her voice is smaller. “I’m not good at this.”
“At what?”
Izzy shakes her head, but there’s something raw in her expression. “Doesn’t matter.”
My heart kicks hard. “Izzy—”
She reaches for my hand, laces her fingers through mine, and tugs me forward. “It’s freezing. Come on.”
But she doesn’t let go the rest of the way. If anything, her grip gets tighter.
She picks up the candy bowl once we’re at her front door. I reach inside, pulling out a ghost treat bag stuffed with candy and crinkled colored paper. There’s a cute face drawn on each, with little pink circles for the cheeks.
“You made these?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah.” Izzy drops my hand to fish for her keys in her clutch. “Well,” she says, not looking at me as she unlocks the door, “no one’s watching now, so I guess we’re off the clock. You can go back to being annoying, and I’ll—”
“How many did you make?” I interrupt, still stuck on how much time she must have sunk on making treat bags for the neighborhood kids.
“Just enough, I guess. Not too many left. Took me all night.”
I rub my hand over my face, trying to distract from the smile tugging at my lips.
“What? Want one?” Izzy shoves a ghost at my chest.
I lean against the railing, tucking it away for later in my pocket. “Want me to leave?”
She stills, key in the lock. “I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t ask me to stay either.”
She pushes the door open but doesn’t go inside. Just stands there, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Finally, she says, “I don’t know what I want.”
Yes, she does. But I’m not going to push her.
“Izzy.” I wait until she meets my eyes. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you’re asking me to stay…”
She swallows. Then steps inside, leaving the door open, so I follow her.
Izzy immediately starts buzzing around the kitchen, setting her clutch on the table, reaching into the cupboard for glasses.
“You want something to drink?” she asks. “I might have some wine—”
“Izzy.”
She stops, hands on the counter, her back to me. “Yeah?”
I close the distance between us, stopping just behind her. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Stall.” I reach out, fingers barely grazing her hip, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”
She turns around, pressing back against the counter, pinning me in place with narrowed eyes. It’s impossible to think straight. “You staying is not a great idea.”
“No, probably not.”
“We have rules. We agreed.”
“We do… we did.”
“And if we break them—” Her voice cracks. “Jack?”
I plant my hands on the counter on either side of her, not quite touching but close enough that she’d have to duck under my arm to escape. Giving her the choice. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want…” She closes her eyes. “God, I don’t know.”
My heart is drumming in my ears. “Yeah, you do.”
“Jack—”
“Say it. Because I’ve been losing my mind since I went back to Boston, and if you don’t tell me to leave right now, I’m going to—”
“That sounds like a dare.”
“If you need it to be.”
I should back off. Make a joke. Give us both an out. Instead, I cup her face in my palm, my thumb dragging across her cheekbone and the glitter dusting across her soft skin.
Her breath catches. “We said no kissing,” she whispers, but her eyes drop to my mouth.
I lean in, lips brushing against her ear. “So I won’t kiss you.”
“You won’t?”
“Not on your mouth.” I trail down the side of her neck, slow and deliberate. She shivers beneath me. “If you’ll let me.”
Her fingers tighten, bunching the cheap fabric of my costume. “Jack—”
“Tell me to stop.” I pull back enough to look at her, making sure she understands. “Any time. You say it, and I stop. That’s the deal.”
Her hands slide up my chest to the back of my neck, until she draws me down so our foreheads touch. “I don’t want you to.”
“Fuck. I was hoping—” I cup her perfect ass in my hands and lift her onto the edge of the lower kitchen counter. I slide my palms up her thighs, pushing aside her skirt. Her fingernails rake against my skull. My cock presses against my jeans. Fuck.
“Tell me yes, Izzy.” Need frays any illusion of control I have. “Tell me I can taste you.”
Her lips part on the most delicious little gasp. For one terrifying second, I think she’ll push me away, but then she whispers, “You’re begging, Murphy.”
I knead her thigh with my fingers, dropping my lips to the base of her throat for one more taste. “You’re the only one I’ll drop to my knees for. That’s a fucking promise.”
“You say that to all the girls.”
I can tell she’s trying to joke, but I don’t want to think about anyone else right now.
“You don’t really want me. I’m convenient, and you just want to get off.”
My eyes snap to hers. Later, when we’re both thinking more clearly, we’re going to talk about that. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy since you opened that door tonight. I’ll beg, but don’t lie to me. I’m going to ask one more—”
“Yes, please.”
Thank fuck. I trail my fingers against the soft, warm skin of her inner thigh until they meet the wet lace of her panties.
“You’re making a mess on the counter already, Izzy. So wet.”
She shifts her hips, pressing herself against my hand. “Stop talking. Fuck me already, Jack.”
“Greedy girl.” I drag my lips against the lace, grinning as she bucks against my mouth with another gasp. “How long has it been since someone made you come?” I ask, pulling away.
“Too long.”
“I’ll make sure you remember.”
I part her legs farther and set my mouth against her lace panties, tasting her against my tongue. She shudders, guiding me closer.
“Don’t be a fucking tease, Murphy. You have a reputation to live up to.”
I don’t want to talk about anyone else, including their ideas of me. I sure as hell don’t want to piss her off either. I wasn’t kidding when I said she’d driven me nuts from the second she opened her door tonight.
I want her, here, and I want it to be my name on her lips when she’s shaking and coming all over my fingers.
I hook her lace panties aside, finally brushing my fingers across her bare pussy.
“We can’t kiss, but what about here?” I slip the pad of my thumb against her clit and draw a slow circle. “Can I kiss you here?”
She bites her bottom lip, fingers digging into my scalp. “Fuck… oh god. Okay, yes.”
I hum against her skin, sliding one hand up to the swell of her stomach. I love the way she quivers, how her breath catches in little staccato bursts.
“You taste too good,” I growl, the words low in my throat. “So fucking perfect.”
Izzy’s head falls back against the counter, hair spilling around like a black inky halo. She’s soft, hot, needy, and I’m lost in it, everything gone but her.
“Jack… please…” Her voice cracks, ragged, desperate. “I need—”
Her shivers are like a spark under my hands, and I follow them, every buck of her hips, every gasp and moan, drawing me deeper.
“You feel… so good,” I murmur against her. “So perfect, Izzy.”
“Jack…” Her voice cracks, half laugh, half plea. “I—oh god, I—”
I slip two fingers inside and thrust gently, curling them forward until I hit that spot. Her muscles coil tighter around me. I slide one hand along her thigh, squeezing gently, giving her the friction she wants, while my mouth devours every inch of her.
Every breath she takes, every shaky moan, every tug of my hair twists something deep in me. I’m dizzy with it, drunk on her.
“Please,” she whimpers. “Don’t stop…”
I press harder, drinking her in until she’s trembling. When she comes on my fingers, my tongue is still against her clit. And even as she trembles, I stay, lingering, tasting, making sure she feels how much she owns me tonight.
Finally, I straighten, dragging her with me, lips trailing up her throat, her hair tangled around us. She’s breathing hard, chest heaving, as she falls forward and rests her forehead against my shoulder.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
She sways, catching herself by bracing her hands on the counter, eyes hooded. “Down that hall… on the right.”
I scoop her up.
“Jack!” It’s halfway between a giggle and a frustrated groan.
“Do you have a monster dildo stashed somewhere we should try out?” I whisper against her ear.
“You’re unbelieve—”
“That was just the start, sweetheart.” I kick her bedroom door shut and grin like the cocky bastard she believes me to be. But inside, I know I’ve really messed up because once with Izzy isn’t going to be enough, no matter how much I tell myself it will be.