I feel all those same emotions as I wait for him to say something. Anything.
“I don’t know,” he whisp
ers, dipping his head so his mouth hovers just above mine. “I know I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now. I want to sprawl you out on the hood of my car and strip you naked. I want to put my mouth on you and make you come. Make you forget that little asshole, once and for all.”
I’m speechless, my gaze ensnared in his. I can visualize everything he just described perfectly, and I want that.
All of it.
Every last little bit.
“Why do you do this to me?” he asks after I haven’t responded.
“Do what?” I whisper.
“Make me want things I shouldn’t.” He lightly strokes my chin with his fingers. “Tell me to go home.”
“Why?” I frown.
“If you invite me into your room, I might do something we’ll both regret,” he admits.
I cannot begin to imagine he’d do anything I’d ever regret. Not when it involves me with him.
God, he’s confusing.
“Maybe I want it,” I tell him, feeling bold.
He smiles. Kisses me. Far too quickly for my liking. “You don’t,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m in a bad mood. I might take it too far.”
A shiver slips down my spine at the promise in his voice. I have a feeling I’d like it when he takes things too far. “You don’t scare me, Jackson.”
“I should.” He takes a step backward, as if he needs the distance. “You should go to bed, Ellie.”
My heart rattles in my chest, as if it’s trying to escape its cage. I’m so turned on, I can barely think straight. “You’re coming with me?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” The disappointment is real. Slowly, I turn and start walking toward my apartment. I can feel Jackson’s heavy gaze on me the entire way, and it’s only when I’m actually at the door, my key in the deadbolt and turning it, that I glance up to find him still watching me.
I offer up my hand in a little wave.
He nods.
Climbs into his car.
And drives away.
Twenty-One
Jackson
I never thought I had it in me, but seeing Carson show up to drive her home, knowing Ellie lost all faith in me and actually had a backup plan, left me feeling out of sorts.
And that’s putting it mildly.
Truly? I became an enraged asshole.
This is where I admit I’m a jealous fuck. Girls don’t normally make me feel like this either, with the exception of…