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

“What?” he finally asked.

“You have a nice laugh.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“I like it. You look so dangerous and dark with your tattoos and your scruff.” Her hand rose to stroke his jaw, her fingers scraping softly over his stubble. His skin tingled. “And then you laugh.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice already rough with need for her. He curved his hand around her knee and felt the soft warmth of her stocking. God. “I like your laugh, too,” he said. “It sounds so sweet and innocent. Just the way you look.”

Her eyes crinkled with mischief.

“Tell me again how you’re shy,” he challenged, sliding his hand up her thigh.

“I am,” she said, just as his hand touched bare skin. He pushed higher, bunching her skirt up until her stocking was revealed, half a shade darker than her skin, clipped to a pale pink ribbon that was decorated with swirls of tan. His skin looked impossibly dark against all that pale, and far too rough to touch such sweetness. They both watched his blunt fingers spread over her thigh. “I’m shy,” she repeated, her breath coming faster now. Something dangerous uncurled in Alex’s gut.

“Right. You’re shy. You’re a nice girl.”

“I am,” she insisted, but her words ended on a gasp when he tugged her leg closer, pulling her thighs apart. He pushed her skirt up into a crumpled pile, exposing pink panties. Lust spread through him like a drug as he slid his hands along the line of that delicate fabric until his fingertips slipped between her legs. Her plump lips were a sweet cushion under his touch. He stroked her through the fabric, tracing the seam of her body until she was panting.

“I guess nice girls like this,” he growled.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“What else do they like?”

“I don’t—” He brushed her clit and she drew in a quick breath. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I bet you know. You just can’t say it. Because you’re shy.”

“Yes.” He barely heard her this time. The delicate, innocent pink of the panties was getting darker under his touch as her wetness soaked through the fabric. That was getting to be one of his favorite sights.

Alex reached for the row of tiny buttons that started at the collar of her dress. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t touch his arm. She just ducked her head and watched as he unbuttoned them one by one. Feigning patience, he made it all the way to the last button, just at her waist. Then, instead of shoving the dress off and fucking her right there against the arm of the couch, he very slowly spread one side of her dress open and

down her arm. The bra was pink, too. He wanted to see all of it together.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

She uncurled her legs and stood, the skirt of her dress falling to cover her thighs. Not for long. He opened the other side of her dress and tugged it farther down her arms. It caught for a moment, and he liked that, Sophie half undressed, arms restrained, and her nipples pushing against the scraps of fabric that covered them. But he only paused for a moment before tugging the dress all the way down. He let it fall to a heap on the floor, and he took her in. The bra, the panties, the garter belt, the stockings, and all of it still sweet and innocent. All of it cut modestly in muted colors of pink and tan. Like she was just a nice girl on her way home from school in the 1940s.

He was so hard it hurt.

“Do nice girls like to show off?” he asked.

Her chest rose and fell with every nervous breath. She nodded.

“Yes, they do,” he murmured, raising one hand to cup her breast. He flicked a thumb over her nipple and watched the muscles of her stomach jump.

He dragged the fabric aside just enough to expose the hard nub of her nipple, then circled it slowly with his calloused thumb. It grew harder against his touch. “Take down your hair.”

While she reached up, he leaned forward and caught her nipple between his teeth.

“Uh,” she gasped, but her hands were occupied with the knot at her nape. He heard one pin fall to the floor as he scraped his teeth over her and made her jerk. Then her hair fell and brushed against his head. He leaned back and took her in.

Now she looked violated and vulnerable. Hair wavy and tumbling, the bra shoved aside, her nipple wet and reddened. Alex hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and slipped them down. They were quite conveniently put on over the ribbons of the garter belt, so once he let the panties fall, her sex was framed by pink ribbons and the tiny strip of tan lace that decorated the edge of the belt. Pale, plump flesh and the slightest hint of pink lips peeking from her slit. He could see how slick and wet she was already.

“Yes.” He didn’t try to keep the violence from his voice. “You like showing off, don’t you, Sophie? You like walking around like this all day, knowing what a hot little piece you are if someone would just fucking look.”

“Yes,” she gasped.