The Christmas He Loved Her (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 2)

His teeth were bared like an animal’s as his gaze rested on her exposed breasts. Her fingers lingered, teasing the nipples, and she swelled beneath his hunger, smiling wantonly as he took a step toward her.

“Touch me, Jake.”

Oh, God, did I just say that?

And yet, as his hungry gaze was riveted to her aching, swollen breasts, she grew more bold.

Raine cupped her breasts and offered them up like offerings to a god. “Touch me,” she breathed, her thumbs caressing her nipples.

“Since when did you become such a fucking tease,” Jake growled, taking a step toward her.

“Since I decided I was going to take what I wanted, and to hell with everything else.”

A slow grin tugged the corners of his mouth. “And when was that exactly?”

He was now inches from her.

“About ten minutes ago,” she whispered.

Before she could say another word, Jake’s large palms covered her breasts and held them as he bent low and took one turgid nipple deep into his mouth.

Everything fell away except Jake.

And his hands.

And his mouth.

And his incredible body.

Raine’s senses filled until she was dizzy with the heaviness of it, her head spinning at each pass of his tongue across her nipple. When he tugged and gently began to suck, she yelped and ground her hips against him, frantic to feel him everywhere.

Her hands reached for his jeans again, and for one split second she froze, wondering if she was in fact doing something she would regret.

But then he blew on her wet, aching nipples, and all thought flew out of her head except one.

Jake.

Chapter 17

Jake had a moment, one pristine and clear moment, where he could have put the brakes on and stopped things cold.

Halfway between the taste of her in his mouth and the low moan that hung in her throat—right in that sweet spot—he could have taken a step back.

But he didn’t.

How could he? The one thing he’d wanted his entire life was right here, right in front of him, and she was his for the taking. He wasn’t going to think about it as a temporary thing. He wasn’t going to go there. Because there, back where all the pain and shit was—that was a place that had no room in here.

Not in here, in this warm haven that Raine had created—a cocoon that existed only for them. And for once in his sorry-ass life, he was not going to do the right thing. He was sick and tired of the right thing. He wasn’t going to step aside and consider the big picture.

He held Raine prisoner, his lips worshipping her mouth, his tongue staking a claim as he tasted her forever, it seemed. When she groaned into him, the sound f

ired him up and left him weak in the knees. The thought that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her did crazy things to his head.

And this wasn’t the alcohol talking. Or the anger.

It fueled all sorts of fantasies, which he pushed away, because the only fantasy he wanted to deal with at the moment was getting her the hell out of the rest of her clothes.

Impatiently he scooped her into his arms, striding toward the fireplace, and grabbed the bubblegum-colored blanket off the sofa along the way. He tossed it on the floor and broke their kiss, aware that her fingers were still tangled in his open fly.