Chasing The Sun (Angel Sands 7)

er in no doubt how damn needy she made him with one simple kiss.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, tracing circles against her spine.

“Yes,” she gasped into his lips.

“And tomorrow night.”

Her mouth curled against his. “You want me for two nights in a row?”

“I want you every night until you leave,” he said, his voice certain. “I know you want to spend time with Autumn and Skyler, and we’ll make that happen. But I need you in my bed. It felt empty without you last night.”

“I didn’t sleep well without you,” she admitted. “I kept reaching out and hitting my hand against the wall instead of your warm ass.”

He slid his lips along the delicate skin of her throat. “I promise to make up for lost time tonight.”

“Just don’t shut me out again,” she requested, her voice soft. “Not when we don’t have much time left.”

“I won’t.” He kissed her jaw, her cheek, the thin skin on her eyelids. “I’ll be an open book. You can ask me anything and I’ll answer.” And he meant it. Wanted it, even. Wanted to share everything with this woman. Yesterday, alone with a sick dog, he’d felt like he was at rock bottom. He didn’t want to feel that way again.

At least not until she left. He pushed that thought away, because it was a grey cloud that threatened to settle over them both.

Sliding his hand beneath the hem of her t-shirt, he curled his fingers around her waist, pressing into her warm flesh.

“God I’ve missed you.” He kissed her again. It wasn’t soft this time. Instead, it was full of hunger for her, so deep he wasn’t sure he could ever satisfy it. “You smell so good,” he murmured, pulling her closer. She arched her body against his, the pressure making him harder than ever. He slid his other hand beneath her top and softly stroked her skin. Her breath shortened against his mouth, her cheeks flushing as he moved his hands upward. When he brushed his thumb over her nipple, she let out a gasp.

He was going to take her in his office. There was no choice. He couldn’t wait until tonight. That was for sure. The need for her throbbed through his veins, making his thoughts fuzzy and his movements sure. Sliding his hand down her thigh, he hitched her leg around his hip, grinding against her until her hips were moving with a rhythm of their own.

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured. She didn’t answer, she didn’t have to. They both knew what they were doing, after all. Kissing at lunchtime in his office, their bodies full of need, the bagels and coffee she’d brought for them both long since forgotten.

With her eyes on his, Lydia pulled out of his hold. For a moment, he felt bereft. She took his hand and looked up at him, her expression full of mischief.

“Why don’t you show me your meeting room? I have an agenda I need you to fill.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Jackson was pulling her across the office, his hand tight around hers as he kicked open the door to the meeting room, tugging her inside.

The door banged closed as he pushed her until the back of her thighs hit the thick oak table. His hands curled around her waist and he lifted her up until her backside was firmly against the surface.

Something about him had changed. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he was different. More certain. The closed off Jackson of yesterday had been replaced by this dark-eyed, masculine sex god, who was setting her whole body on fire with just a brush of his fingertips against her thighs.

She sent a prayer of thanks to the pleasure gods that she’d worn a skirt today. Jackson’s hands were firm as he pulled her legs apart. He stepped into the space they’d left, deftly pulling her t-shirt over her head and exposing her skin to the cool air.

She glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. His lip curled as he followed her eye movements. “Are you worried about us being disturbed?”

She shook her head. “Not in that way. I just don’t want you to start something you can’t finish.”

Flashing her a wicked grin, he dropped to his knees and pulled her panties down, pressing his lips against her inner thigh. “Lisa takes an hour for lunch,” he told her, kissing his way up to the crease at the top of her legs. “I can probably make you come five times before then.”

“Promises…oh!” He slid his finger along the neediest part of her, making her whole body contract with need. Tiny pinpricks of pleasure danced through her abdomen, her thighs, and right down to her feet. He dropped his head until his lips were against her, moving his tongue in a long, languid lick.

Her head dropped back, a sigh escaping her lips as he licked her again, this time circling her nerve center in the most delicious of ways. Her hips gyrated on the table as the pleasure built up inside of her with every lick of his tongue and every suck of his mouth.

“Jackson, I…”

“Hush,” he murmured against her, sucking and licking until stars were bursting behind her eyelids. “Relax.”

She was trying, she really was. But it was impossible to relax when a Californian god was kneeling between her legs, pushing two teasing fingers inside her. The movement intensified everything, making her toes curl tightly, as she felt the pleasure coil and whip at the bottom of her belly.

He curled his fingers inside her, and everything exploded, her sweet moans filling the air as he coaxed the pleasure from her. Her body contracted around him, and she reached for him, raking her fingers through his hair as he slowly brought her down from the peak.