“So when this Justin guy kissed you at the party, did he touch you anywhere?” He reaches for me, his hand settling on the outside of my thigh, his fingers perilously close to my butt. “Like here?”
“Yes,” I whisper, sucking in a breath when he tries to drag me closer.
It’s a little awkward in the front seat of his car, the console in between us, but he’s managing.
“And I’m guessing he didn’t just kiss you here.” With his other hand, he touches my lips, his index finger dipping in between them for the briefest moment before he removes them. If I were quicker, I would’ve bit him. “But maybe…right here?”
Jackson leans into me, and I go completely still when he presses his face against my neck. I can feel him inhale, his mouth moving against my sensitive skin, feather light.
“Y-yes,” I say, because I can’t stop continuing the lie.
He kisses me, his damp lips clinging to my neck, making about a million shivers course through me. What is he doing?
“Did he touch you here?” he whispers against my neck, his hand coming up to gently cup my breast.
I close my eyes, falling under his spell. I have him all over me. Right where I want him. His fingers tighten around my breast, his thumb lightly tracing along the top edge of my bra, over my T-shirt. This is by far the most intimate a guy has ever had his hands on me. And it’s Jackson.
Of course, it is.
“Ellie,” he whispers, close to my ear. “Did he do this?”
He releases his hold on me to slip his hand beneath my shirt, his fingers skimming up my bare stomach. A jolt runs through me at first contact of his fingers on my skin, and I brace myself for more.
“Jackson.” My voice breaks. My breath quickens.
“Did he?” His fingers trace the underside of my bra slowly, back and forth. Putting me in a trance. “Tell me. What did he do next? After he touched you here?”
“He kissed me,” I say because that’s what I want Jackson to do. What I want to feel.
Jackson’s mouth on mine. His tongue sliding against mine. I want to swallow his groans and feel him press his body against me. I want all of that.
Even if he ignores me the next day, or treats me like I’m the same ol’ Ellie for the rest of my days, right now, that’s what I want.
I want it.
I want him.
He lifts his head and is so still, so quiet, I have no choice but to open my eyes to see what he’s doing.
Watching me, his hand still under my shirt. “Has anyone ever made you come before, Ellie?”
I slowly shake my head, my gaze never straying from his. My body starts to tremble at his words, at the promise in them. It’s in his eyes too. I know he could make me come. He just does it for me. I am completely caught up in him. No other guy has this kind of effect on me.
No one else.
Just him.
“Then you’ve been with some real shitty guys.” He removes his hand from beneath my shirt and shifts away from me, plastering his back to the driver’s side door. As if he needs the space.
From me.
“Yeah,” I say, staring right at him, anger slipping into my veins, making my blood boil. “I have.”
I’m referring to him. He’s the shittiest one of them all.
“Want me to walk you to your door?” he asks.
I gape at him. What the hell was that just now? Feeling me up and then pulling away like he never touched me in the first place? I don’t understand him. He toys with me because he knows he can get away with it.