Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)

God, the pressure against his cock felt good. And her hands felt good as her fingers dug a little into his muscles, making him aware of his body. Of his strength and size and the way that might turn her on.

He backed her up to the flat wood planks of the railing. He could let go of her hips now and stay pressed to her. Her waist was a slight curve under his hands, and then her long, delicate back, and that arching neck. Then, finally, he cupped the back of her head and held her for a deeper kiss, his tongue working slowly against hers, letting her know exactly how he’d fuck her.

Her moan let him know she might like it.

But not tonight.

He was startled by the thought. He didn’t know where it came from. Not from her, but from some dark part of his brain. Not tonight. Not even if she’d let him. He felt...deviant, touching this woman, making her moan. He felt perverted and he liked it. He wanted to draw it out. Expose her secrets like layers of hidden need. They were there. He could feel it in the way she stretched up to take more of his tongue. More of him.

He’d give her more if that would make her happy.

Alex raised his head, pulling back from the kiss even as she tried to follow. He kept his hand cupped to her neck, holding her still as he feathered a kiss over her top lip. Then her bottom one. Then the crease of her mouth. The tip of her tongue licked at him, and he chuckled and tasted her again. He couldn’t resist it, but the kiss was quick this time, then he raised his head to look down at her.

Her face was silver in the moonlight, her pupils black as the sky when she opened her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be doing this with a stranger,” he said.

“This is a small town. You’re not really a stranger.”

Alex shook his head, knowing that wasn’t true. “No one here knows me anymore.”

She closed her eyes and raised her mouth, and when Alex kissed her again, she whispered against him, “No one knows me either.”

He could believe that. He understood that. She was a secret, right here among people she’d known all her life.

Alex bunched her skirt in his hand and raised one side of it, sliding it up her leg, waiting for her to stop him. She didn’t. His hand touched bare skin, then the warm strap of her garter belt. Jesus.

“Do you wear these to drive men crazy?” he growled.

He felt her smile against his jaw. “I wear them to drive me crazy.”

Damn. He’d thought he was hard before, but now he was in pain. Yes, she was a secret, and his hand was on the hot skin of her thigh.

He gripped her there, and her knee rose, just a few inches, just enough for her to curl her foot behind his calf and make space between her legs for him. His cock notched into place. He groaned against her neck and felt her throaty laugh vibrate through him.

“But...” she murmured, “I’m glad they drive you a little crazy, too.”

“A little,” he rasped, sliding his hand over the back of her thigh. The slippery fabric of her panties teased his thumb. He slid his hand low again, dragging it over the stocking, memorizing the wicked feel of bare flesh above silky material. His rough hand caught at the delicate threads. “Sorry,” he whispered, trying to make himself feel that, but he couldn’t. Her hips tipped up a little, like she liked it. Did she? That his hands were rough against her perfection? Did she want that?

He let his fingers curl all the way behind her knee, then up again, up. Over silk stocking, and the bump of the fastener and then sweet bare skin. And then...

“Oh,” she whimpered as the edge of his hand grazed between her legs, slipping along the fabric of her panties. His thumb edged beneath them as he cupped the bottom of her ass and hauled her tighter to his cock.

Her hips rocked against him. Alex closed his eyes and tried not to moan like a boy dry-humping his first girlfriend. But it felt that good, and his heart pounded with the shocking pleasure of it, just as it had in junior high.

Maybe it was something in the air. A perk of returning to the same sights and smells he’d hit puberty with. Or maybe it was that his whole hand was under her panties now, cupping her naked ass while she slowly, slowly worked herself against his torturously covered shaft.

For a moment, he imagined it. Unzipping his jeans, setting his cock free, pulling her underwear to the side, then just plunging deep, feeling her pussy drag hot and wet over him as he sank into her body. She’d love it. She’d arch up and ride him and come all over him, screaming and bucking.

And then they’d be done.

Somehow he knew that, and he didn’t want this done. Not that quickly.

So instead of setting his throbbing cock free, Alex edged back and eased her leg down. Her eyes opened slowly as a confused and nearly grumpy frown took her mouth, but when he slipped his hand down the front of her panties, her lips parted on a sigh.

His did, too. There was nothing but bare skin under that little triangle of satin fabric. Bare skin, and plump lips, and sweet, hot wetness that led his fingers right where they wanted to go.

Taking it slow or not, Alex now wished they were inside. In his sad, anonymous hotel room, in the dreary light of that bedside lamp, on worn white sheets, so he could strip off this dress and these panties and fucking see her. God. The stockings and garter belt and perfect, parting legs and the pinkness of her, shining with wetness, begging for his mouth, his hands, his cock.