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

“Please,” he finally said, “tell me that qualified as really fucking.”

She laughed, wincing at the strange feeling of his penis still inside her. “That definitely qualified.”

“Thank God. I was going to have to write in for advice if it didn’t.”

She squeezed her eyes closed as he slid free of her and rolled to the side.

“Dear Veronica,” he said, “I gave it everything I had, and still...”

Her laughter dissolved into giggles, and tears wet her eyes. She pressed a hand over her mouth to try to stifle her hilarity, but it took a few moments.

Gabe kissed her shoulder and got out of bed. Right. They were done now. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around, regretting that they hadn’t gotten under the covers before they did it. Now she was just sprawled naked and wet on the bed with no defenses, and that was not the position she wanted to be in when he left.

When she heard the water in the bathroom come on, Veronica scrambled up to climb to the head of the bed and pull the covers back. Unfortunately, the bedding was caught under her knees. She shifted several times from one knee to the other, trying to tug the blanket down, and she’d just barely gotten it free when Gabe walked back in, looking lean and hot and very, very naked.

She froze, kneeling and half-bent on the bed and feeling very, very naked herself.

“Good idea,” he said. “I’m freezing.”

He took the blanket from her hand and held it a little higher so she could scoot in. She did, if only to get her naked body underneath something. Gabe followed her and even though she scooted over as far as she could, he was still pressed against her side when she stopped. She clutched the blanket tight under her chin and stared at the dark space of the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She could feel him watching her and she felt acutely embarrassed about the whole thing. He knew too much about her, and right now she just wanted to play it off as nothing. Just sex. Just an orgasm. Because now she felt convinced he was treating her as if she were fragile. If she hadn’t revealed her secrets, would he still be here? Would he be cuddled so close? Would he be reaching up to gently tip her face toward his?

“Veronica?” he whispered.

She hoped that her expression was as hard to read as his was, but she was facing the light leaking in from the other room. He could probably see every anxious thought written on her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is weird.”

He frowned. “What’s weird?”

“Pillow talk?” she guessed.

His frown vanished and he kissed her. She could feel his chuckle against her mouth. “I guess it is weird. Do you want me to go?”

“No! I mean, only if you want to. It’s just such a weird shift. To be so utterly intimate, to be at your most...animalistic...”

“Grr,” he growled.

“And then it’s over and you have to be...just...normal again.”

“You don’t have to be normal,” he said. “You know I like it when you’re weird.”

She laughed and smacked him on the arm. “Did you just call me weird?”

“Yes. But you called me weird first. You’re supposed to tell me I’m amazing and I did a good job.”

“You need reassurance? I’m the beginner here!”

“You’re right.” He propped himself up on his elbow and watched her, his hair flopping forward in a way that was already precious. “I don’t need reassurance, but I’m just a man, and we like to be told what good boys we are.”

She shook her head in exasperation, then reached up to stroke his beard. “You were a very, very, very good boy tonight.”

He grinned, looking like a kid swelling up with praise. “Thank you.”

“And me?”