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

A few heartbeats passed. Veronica wanted to kick herself.

“You were that turned on?” he finally asked.

“Oh, my God, don’t pretend you didn’t feel it.” Her crotch was still cold.

Even his chuckle was sexy. She was starting to hate him and his sexiness. “It’s different to hear you say it, though. It’s nice.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled. At least her face wasn’t cold. Her face felt hot enough to melt steel. If she turned off her flashlight, maybe she’d see the red glow of her face reflecting off the leaves.

“Listen.” His hand settled on her shoulder. She was glad she couldn’t see him in the dark. He was close, though. Close enough to slide his hand over her hair. “I’m not planning to show up with candles and champagne. I just don’t want to rush it.”

“I turn twenty-seven tomorrow. This hasn’t been a rush.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked. “It’s your birthday?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, and I’ll still be a virgin for some reason I don’t understand.”

Even in the dark, she could see his smile. “Okay, I’ll be blunt. I want to wait because I want you squirming for it.”

The vulgarity of his words hit her square in the belly. “Oh,” she said.

“I want you thinking about what we did tonight. I want you so turned on you can’t stand it. I want you dying for it. Because I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten you there before.”

She shook her head, speechless.

“Guys rush things. I was like that for a few years, too. We all are, I guess. And I think you’ve been with those guys. Guys who get you turned on just enough so you’ll give in and let them kiss you, touch you, see you naked. Give them what they need to come. I don’t want it like that. I don’t want you to get it over with. I want you to come. In my mouth. On my cock. I want you to come for me, Veronica.”

“Oh,” she said again. The words getting inside her, tightening around her pussy. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “And when we’re done, I want you very clear on whether you’ve been fucked or not.” His mouth was so close to her now. She could feel his breath on her lips. “I don’t want any ‘pretty much’ about it. Okay?” he asked.

She had to swallow to wet her mouth enough to let her speak. “Okay,” she croaked.

He kissed her. One quick little peck. “Okay,” he repeated. “But I’m hard as hell again. Does that make you feel better?”

Yes, it did, because it was warm between her legs again. He could get her wet with just words. And he was going to fuck her. He’d made that clear. She didn’t have to doubt that anymore. But she didn’t say yes. She just shrugged and started down the trail. “Hope you can walk with that thing,” she called over her shoulder. And if she had a spring in her step, she tried not to let it show.

CHAPTER NINE

SHE COULDN’T STOP thinking about Gabe.

Veronica had spent 90 percent of her day thinking about what they’d done the night before, the words he’d whispered and exactly what they might do the next time they were together. She’d wasted hours. She’d fantasized. She’d squirmed. Just the way he wanted her to.

But she hadn’t made herself come. Honestly, she hadn’t even been that tempted. There was nothing new about her own fingers, and she’d broken in her shiny new vibrator two years ago. It was old hat now. But Gabe... Gabe might call at any moment. And she’d be damned if she’d preempt their first night together with yet another solo orgasm.

So she’d waited. But she had no idea when Gabe would get in touch.

He’d gone out for a full day of climbing today, but that hadn’t stopped her from checking her phone every five minutes.

Squirming. She was squirming in every way possible. And she was very afraid that this was the start of a long wait.

“Not if I can help it,” she muttered as she stopped in front of her fridge to look at the notes one more time. Her advice was actually working out so far. If she could pull off “Ask your friends for help,” she’d have to move on to number three. She just had to figure out what that was.

Baby steps.

The 10 percent of her day she hadn’t been daydreaming about Gabe had been spent on work. She’d roughed out answers to a couple of emails she’d received and line-edited two articles her editor had sent her, but she couldn’t stop going back to that letter from Torn. It called to her, yet she’d flinched away every time. If she couldn’t figure it out by Monday night, she’d use one of the other letters. If she did figure it out, she’d publish the other letters on the web-only version of her column, where her editor allowed her a few hundred more words of advice every week.

She grabbed a coat and headed out for the night, and for once she didn’t feel like a complete fraud as she stepped into the real world. She might be almost a virgin, but not for long. Tonight she felt sexy. She felt desirable. She had let a man lick her nipples on a public trail while the sun set behind her, and goddamn if that wasn’t something.