“I’m sure they won’t care.”
“Well, I would.” I smile up at him. “I hate asking people to move their plates. And Howard is a poultry frying legend. I want to pick his brain on how he brines his turkey.”
Jake cocks his head. “I don’t know. Howard will talk your ear off if you let him, and I’m not really in the mood to share you tonight.”
My mouth goes dry and my smile falters as I confess, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Good,” he says in a soft, husky voice that makes my nipples pull tight inside my bra.
My tongue slips out to dampen my suddenly dry lips. “So…what should we do?”
“We could find another table,” he says. “Or…”
“Or?” I wet my lips again, but the moisture does nothing to cool my heated skin.
I swear, it feels like my lips are on fire.
“Or we can step outside for a few minutes.” Jake leans his head closer to mine before adding beneath his breath, “Because if you lick your lips one more time, I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep from kissing you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Naomi
Holy fried turkey and mashed potatoes…did he just say what I think he said?
I swallow hard. “Is that right?” I ask, my heart pulsing in my throat.
“That’s right,” he confirms, the look in his eyes making it clear that he’s serious.
Dead serious.
If I lick my lips again, Jake’s going to kiss me.
So really, what choice do I have?
Slowly, deliberately, I slide my tongue from between my lips, tracing the curve of my upper lip while I hold Jake’s gaze and the air between us sparks and crackles.
We’re still for a beat, both holding our breaths, waiting to see what will happen next and then Jake is in motion. He takes my hand and turns, pulling me back through the door.
A part of me wants to ask where we’re going and suggest options for places to hide from prying eyes, but I don’t dare say a word. I don’t want to do anything to risk breaking the spell Jake is under tonight or keep him from making good on his threat to kiss me.
Kissing Jake.
The thought is…dizzying.
By the time he pulls me into a janitor’s closet around the corner from the hall and tugs the door shut behind us, the world is spinning.
And then he pulls me into him and covers my mouth with his and the spin becomes a whirl.
My knees buckle and I might have fallen, but Jake’s there to catch me, one strong arm wrapping tight around my waist as his hand drives into my hair, cradling my head as he draws me closer, fitting me against his warm body. His tongue slips between my lips, into my mouth, mating with mine with a hunger that makes it clear he wants me every bit as much as I want him.
And God, the man can still kiss like nobody else.
The kiss is hot and sweet and as familiar as my face in the mirror, even after all these years, but…different, too.
There’s no hesitation or caution in the way his mouth claims mine, no doubt that he knows what he wants and what I want and that he intends to make sure we’re both satisfied. He kisses like a man now, not the boy I knew, but I have zero complaints.
I want the man he is. I want to make new sweet and sexy memories as the people we are now, not the kids we were back then.
I just want…him.
Jake.
So, so much.
I arch closer, clinging to his shoulders as the kiss grows deeper, wilder. He tastes like salvation and second chances and a kind of hope I’d all but given up on before coming back to Bliss River. Within seconds my chest is so tight I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Instead, I moan into his mouth and twine my arms tighter around his neck, giving as good as I get, dying to be even closer to him. I want his hands on me, everywhere, and his skin bare against mine.
“You feel so damned good,” he whispers against my mouth as his hands grip my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh through my dress.
As he pulls me closer, pinning my hips to his, a jolt of raw desire shoots out along my every nerve. Silently, I celebrate my decision not to wear curve-imprisoning panties. As Jake’s hand slides up my thigh, I’m so grateful that only a scrap of silky fabric separates me from his touch and praying that soon my easily removed underwear will be in a puddle on the floor.
Jake discovers the lacy top of my stocking high on my thigh and groans, a sound I echo as he cups me through my damp panties. My fingers dig into his shoulders and my head falls back with a soft cry as he draws the fabric to one side and slides two fingers inside where I ache for him. He pushes to the end of me and pulls slowly back, again and again, establishing a teasing rhythm that builds the tension fisting low in my body, making me tremble.