Taking the Heat (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 3)

“I’m serious. They’re every

thing I always imagined about other people’s families. When I was, like, eight years old and watched too much television.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t sass me, Gabe.”

He groaned and made a lunge for her, pulling her down on the bed beside him. “I’ve never made out with a girl in this bed,” he said, rising up on his elbow above her.

She wanted to tell him no. She meant to. But he looked so sweet above her, his hair flopping down to shade his eyes. Eyes that were looking at her mouth as she licked her lips.

This was a terrible idea. Even now she had no idea what she’d come here to say to him. That it was over forever. Or that maybe—just maybe—they could see what happened long-distance.

Whatever her decision, it wouldn’t be made clearer by making out. But...

“You have dimples,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. Of course he did. She should have known. It would’ve been strange if Gabe MacKenzie didn’t have adorable dimples. They flashed when he smiled, but then he kissed her and she closed her eyes.

Oh, God, he tasted so good. So right. She tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him tighter to her. She was instantly aroused, despite their weeks apart, despite her anger and hurt. She wanted nothing more than to pull up her skirt and tell him, Hurry, shh, hurry. Just be quick before somebody knocks.

She’d never sneaked up to a boy’s bedroom before, never let him run his hand over her breasts with his family only one floor away. She’d never groaned into his mouth and hoped that the sound was soft enough that his parents wouldn’t hear.

“God, I want to fuck you,” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t know if I should say that or not, but I do.”

She didn’t answer, because she was thinking the exact same thing, but her lack of objection seemed to encourage him. His eyes darkened and he kissed her again.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” he growled. “We should have gone to your hotel. Will you take me there later? Will you let me touch you again, Veronica?”

His fingers sneaked down her leg and under her skirt and he pressed his hand to her panties.

She gasped and pushed up toward him.

“I know you’re mad,” he whispered. “I know you’re pissed, but you feel so good.” He stroked her through the material until her hips rocked in time with his touch. His fingertips dragged over her clit.

“Will you take me back to your room, Veronica? Let me fuck you? Make you come?” He slipped beneath the fabric and she groaned at the new brightness of the pleasure.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” And then she was saying the things she’d imagined. Things she’d never say to someone else. “Here. Do it now. Just hurry. Before someone comes up.”

“Now?” he rasped as his fingers pressed inside her and she arched up to meet him.

“Yes. Please. I missed you.”

“Yes,” he agreed. He rose up and frantically unfastened his belt and pants, but before he could do more than tug his underwear down, a knock thumped at the door.

They both froze. She was sure her eyes were as wide as his.

“Gabe?” his mom said through the door. “Come on down—the coffee is ready!”

“Okay,” he said, the word unnaturally bright.

“We’re going to walk to the restaurant afterward, show Veronica around.”

“Uh,” he croaked. “Sure.”

Her quiet footsteps moved away.

Veronica and Gabe stared at each other until she looked down to see half of his cock exposed. She couldn’t help it. She started laughing again.

“Oh, Jesus,” he groaned.