“I’m ready for the killer ham,” she said and sampled a wafer thin slice of Iberian jamon. “Gosh, that’s amazing!”
Britt ate two more pieces before moving on to the toasts with different toppings. Jack ate a bit but seemed more involved in watching her discover it all. They talked and laughed and he told her about the first time he went to Spain and didn’t realize you had to order food, because he thought that free tapas would feed everyone at the table.
“They were in a recession that year and you couldn’t even get free bread in most places, much less clams or anything awesome. It took a couple days of thinking I was going to shitty, cheap places before I figured out how to order. Then I had to learn where to order from. I spent some quality time learning about food poisoning that summer. Here’s a tip to take with you...never buy the cheapest razor clams you can find.” He cringed at the memory and she laughed.
At the next bar they tried mushroom croquetas and struck up a conversation with some locals about a place nearby that had live music. After the margarita and four glasses of wine, Britt was ready for the thick hot chocolate and churros at the spot with live music. They shared a bowl of hot chocolate so dense and rich that the spoon stood up in it, taking turns dunking and biting the fried cinnamon churros. Then they danced, his arm looped around her hips, to the beat of the local band. Jack looked relaxed, gorgeous, happy, and Britt wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Their kiss was explosive. After so much time apart since his dad’s death, it felt as if visible sparks ought to shoot off of their skin right there on the crowded dance floor.
Britt anchored her hands in his hair and kissed him back with a passion so fierce she was afraid for a moment of being consumed entirely, burned up into ash by her desire for Jack Fitzsimmons. His fingers bit into her hips as he held her against him and there was no mistaking the fact that he shared her desire and passion. Within seconds, he had steered her to the exit and they were kissing, pressing up against the exterior wall of the bar with Jack’s hand traveling up her thigh. Laughing, she pushed his hand away and tugged him on toward their hotel.
“It’s this way. As endearing as I think your poor sense of direction is, now doesn’t feel like the right time to humor you. Go east,” Jack teased, pulling her along in the opposite direction.
Britt hurried as much as she could, tottering along in her foolish stilettos. Jack stopped to kiss her, his tongue devouring hers. Then she squealed as he swooped her up in her arms and carried her giggling back to their hotel.
“Jack, stop! Put me down! I can walk, I swear.”
“I know you can. You’re just too slow.”
“It’s not me. It’s these shoes. They hurt.”
“They’re hot. I’m not complaining about the shoes. I just need you now and you can’t achieve my desired speed so I took matters into my own hands, so to speak.”
“I’m happy you want me again.”
“Again? When exactly did I stop wanting you?”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressure after your dad...passed away. I’ve missed you, though,” Britt said.
“I missed you as well. I thought...with everything you were having to put up with, Charlie being in town, me holing up in my apartment with some bottles of booze and a bad attitude, that it would be too much to expect that you might find me attractive still. I hope to do better, by y
ou, for us both. I want to give you my full attention and hopefully show you a good time in Madrid. I know you said you’d never been to Europe before and there’s all kinds of things I want to show you here, but the first thing I want to show you is that I still love you. More than ever, in fact,” he said as he carried her almost effortlessly to the elevator.
Chapter 13
Britt was glad he was carrying her because she felt like she might have been unable to stand, her knees weak from his romantic pronouncement. Jack did have a way with words, with expressing his emotions like no other man she’d ever been with. By the time he set her gently down on her feet, sliding her along his body in the elevator, Britt was beyond ready for his touch.
In their hotel room, Jack barely took an instant to lock the door before he stepped toward her, looming over her in the sexiest way possible...his height, the width of his powerful shoulders, his sheer size and musculature dwarfing her until she felt small and feminine, and ready to be consumed. He licked his lips, looking for all the world like he was the big bad wolf and she gave a nervous giggle, wanting him so much but feeling almost shy. With one finger, he deftly slid down the strap of her dress and put his mouth on her bare shoulder. The heat of his mouth and his tongue on her flesh ignited her every sense, set her nerve endings humming with the thrill of his touch.
Jack slid down the zipper at the back of her dress, his warm fingertips brushing against her skin as he dragged the zipper down. He pushed her dress to the floor, the hot pink fabric pooling at her feet as he hooked his fingers in her panties and slipped them down as well. She stepped out of both, leaving her stilettos on as he covered her bare breasts with his hands. He palmed her nipples as she unbuttoned his black shirt and pushed it open so she could rub against his bare flesh with her own. Down went his jeans and boxer briefs in one and he kicked off his shoes. He was strong, lean, incredibly gorgeous, and the hue of his tanned skin reminded her of nothing so much as that dulce de leche ice cream she used to overindulge in back in her college days, with its rich ribbon of caramel. She licked her lips involuntarily and he captured her mouth with his hungrily. Together, their tongues danced as Jack’s ever so talented hands went to work on her already tight nipples.
She was panting and pulling him toward the bed, frantic and desperate. He pulled away from her, dipped down to take a condom from his jeans pocket. Then he rose back up part of the way, his lips on her stomach, working their way up to her breasts. She moaned loudly as his mouth closed over her nipple and he backed her up to the bed. Jack ripped open the foil and sheathed himself, wrapping her ankles around his neck as he stood beside the bed.
“You’re mine, Britt,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I’m never letting you go.”
He worked his hands down the length of her smooth legs little by little until he tugged her hips to the edge of the bed and thrust into her. Soon he was within her to the hilt and she was pushing her hips toward him, meeting his strokes. She couldn’t hold out long before the inexorable movement of their bodies together drove her over the edge of madness with a shriek. He soon followed her, collapsing onto the black silk cover beside her, easing her legs down with infinite care.
He kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek and her lips as if he could never get enough of her. He whispered half-understood words against her hair as she clung to him. Kicking off her shoes, she crawled to the pillows and slithered beneath the covers, chilled by the power of her release. He joined her, his arms going round her protectively. She trembled, burrowing close to him as if she might never get warm.
“I need you in my life, Britt. Thank you for being with me, for not giving up.”
Without a word, a tear slipped down Britt’s cheek. She hid her face in his shoulder, embarrassed by her outburst of emotion.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing I’m just...happy,” she said.
He laughed, cradling her against his chest and kissing the top of her head.
“I love you. I may have overestimated your ability to handle margaritas and wine and chocolate all on the same night, though,” he chuckled indulgently.